Tuesday 28 June 2011

Memories of Lawrence of Arabia



Ray Attwood kindly contacted me about papers that he'd found which had belonged to his father, Frederick Henry Attwood, who died in 1992.
His father had recorded his meetings with TE Lawrence. The story makes very interesting reading and I thought that I would share it here. I believe that it has never been published before.
The notes read:
'This I leave to the readers to judge for themselves, all I can do is to state the facts as I saw them at the time and which after 60 years plus is still clear in my mind.
The weather was fine, sunshine, wind south west force 5, the event was the Turnchapel Sailing Club weekly meeting of the 14 Dinghy.
The course was down the Cattewater past Mount Batten Pier out into Plymouth Sound. Around a mark buoy off the pier, then back up the Cattewater to the finishing line, which was a line ashore from the foredeck of the cable-ship C.S. Mackay Bennet (a vessel of world interest, having picked up 275 bodies from the S.S. Titanic) and on which I was raised.
Having been given permission by my father to sail his 14 footer, only under guidance of a very experienced yachtsman, Harry Higgins. I was laying along side West Lakes Quay, Turnchapel when Ted Sallows, a nephew of Harry's, came to tell me that Harry, who was a shipwright, would not be available that evening, having to work overtime. Somewhat disappointed at receiving such information and in complete contradiction to my father's orders, that I was under no circumstances to sail her without the second-hand being an experienced yachtsman. I looked up on the quay where a few locals etc were gathered and enquired if anyone would care to take a chance and sail with me.
It must be remembered that the dinghy was a Morgan Giles 14'  international and was a flighty hand-full for even a experienced helmsman.

Life-jackets were not used in the early 30's and in fact if one had been available I would have considered it to be unmanly to have used one.
My enquiry for a second-hand to take the fore-sheet, was answered by an airman who having caught my glance raised his arm slightly and said "I will", as he walked down the steps I pulled alongside, he stepped in saying "Good evening" took the fore-sheet and away we went to the starting line.
Between the time of his coming aboard and the start, I had time to look at him and although only a teenager, I had, having been raised on the C.S Mackay Bennett, come through a childhood where part of my education in the ways the world had been influenced by tough seaman from Novia Scotia - Newfoundland, l and a fair number of Outer Hybridis
es Scotsman, who had found their way to Halifax, Novia Scotia many years before and while not big headed, I have a fair idea of how to assess a fellow human being.
He appeared to be about 40-45 years of age, 5ft 3" - 5ft 5" tall, slight build and the little I could see of it, sandy coloured hair, yet there was an air of confidence about him, I was somewhat awed by him, for which having been with him only some 10 minutes or so I was somewhat at loss to understand.
None of my Blue-nose friends would have said that I was easily overawed, and certainly not my school head master Mr Rogers (father of Paul Rogers the Shackespearn actor), who, when I visited him at Newton Abbot while on leave from the army in 1940, told my fiancee that in all his years of teaching he had never come across anyone whose ideas were so fixed and could not be influenced and expressed the wish
that she had more luck in doing so, than he had had.
The one thing about my newly acquired shipmate was his eyes, at times they appeared to be startlingly blue and at others gray, steady, clear and confident. Having got off to a good start, by first of all sailing in toward Mount Batten Air Force station on a starboard tack, we came about on to a port tack, beat up toward Sutton Harbour entrance, hoping that by coming about on a starboard tack and with tide ebbing we could make Mount Batten Pier, we were however to fail to maintain way, because, while level on the Cattewater side of the Plymouth Citadel the wind dropped completely and we could only drift out into the Sound and toward our furtherest mark-buoy.
No words had been exchanged between us until I said that I did not like taking advantage of a tow back by the motor boat who was collecting all the other entrants and were being towed back to the committee boat (C.C Mackay Bennett).
My shipmate simply stated that I was skipper, so accordingly I told the steward in the motor-boat to inform the timekeepers that I intended to continue the race and being now the only competitor, would claim maximum points and first place on completion.
The race which started at 6.65 pm and normally took 2.5 - 3 hours, to complete the course twice, on this occasion, with the aid of a late light breeze, finished at 11.50pm.
A finish which was not at all popular with the time-keepers.
No beer at the Borindon Arms that night and I had to face my father's anger having disobeyed his order by sailing without an experienced instructor.
During this time my shipmate had been stowing away the sails
etc, and knowing that Harry Higgins, would for the rest of the
sailing season be working overtime, I asked the airman whether he would like to continue every Wednesday evening throughout the summer. As he stepped out of the boat he replied "Delighted, 6pm next Wednesday, good morning".
His good morning reply made me appreciate his grand sense of humour.
Apart from the first greeting and his acceptance to continue the race and his departing words, he had been silent for a whole 5.5 hours and yet I had no feeling that either he or I were the slightest bit bothered and we did not even know each others names.
The following Wednesday at 6pm he again stepped into the boat said "Good-evening", took over the fore-sheet and with a spanking south west force 4 wind we were away again to the starting line.
Coming out into the Sound, the wind had increased to force 5
and I was somewhat apprehensive, as no matter how close I brought her head up into the wind we were shipping water, should I come up head to wind and take in a reef?

At this stage I said to my shipmate "have you done any sailing"?
"A little, with this type", thinking his little was more than my little experience, it was with great relief that I brought up head to wind and we changed places, I to the fore-sheet, he to the tiller and mainsheet.
Having been raised at sea, I had seen some very good Skippers on both small and medium sized vessels, my shipmate was First-Class. By the time we crossed the finishing line I knew that I had been given a first class lesson on how to sail a small craft.
At the conclusion of the race I realised with a degree of guilt that we did not have a name for each other and having made known my name he replied "Shaw, aircraftsman, see you next Wednesday 6pm, good night".

Thus one can see our conversation on our second meeting was indeed limited, but at no time did I feel anything but confident and at ease in his presence.
Later that night when sitting down to supper, my father who had obtained his ticket in sail, inquired as to why I had disobeyed his instructions once again by sailing in a Force 4/5, accepted the part when I was not skipper and required to know who the Airman was and where he had obtained such expertise as a sailing master and expressed a wish to be introduced to him the following Wednesday.
At this stage my mother suggested that if on the following Wednesday, should it be convenient to Mr Shaw, to invite him to supper.
When we next, I passed on the supper invitation, but he stated that for an unknown period of time his duties would be such that he would be involved in late night operations, but that should it interfere with our arrangements at any time, he would let me know in time for me to obtain another crew member.
On the following Friday morning post, my mother received a letter from Mr Shaw thanking her for a supper invitation and that he would be pleased to accept as soon as duties permitted.
The sailing dates continued for a further 6 weeks, when an invitation to Sunday lunch was accepted, mother duly provided the roast beef etc, as usual with anyone who sat down at our table. He ended up uncomfortably full.
Following the meal, and when showing him my two recently purchased second-hand motor cycles, i.e 1924 belt driven horizontal twin Douglas, and Rudge Malti 600 cc single cylinder belt driven, Mr Shaw stated that he had a Solo motor cycle and invited me to a trip as a pillion passenger. This duly took place, but what a surprise, the Solo was a Brough Suprior, the journey was to Staddon Heights over the fairways of the United Services Golf Club out to the large wall that overlooks Plymouth Sound and Breakwater, into Saddiscombe, Brixton, Plymstock, Hove and back to Turnchapel.
The following Wednesdays included Mother's coffee and sandwiches as though we were going sailing for a week instead of 3-4 hours. She had expressed the view that Mr Shaw did not look as though he was well fed at Mount Batten Station.
Our conversation at all times was very limited, both feeling that the need for conversation was second to the job of dinghy sailing and winning.
At no time did my family think that Mr Shaw was other than an Aircraftman stationed at Mount Batten. Doubt was raised however when having spent a Sunday afternoon on Plymouth Hoe band-stand with my mother, listening to a Scottish Pipe Bank. As we were returning to the car, we looked up to the balcony of Lady Astor's house and there was Mr Shaw among the guests.
I made no mention of having seen him there when we met for the next race meeting, at the completion he stated that he would be unable to carry out any further sailing as he was leaving Mount Batten and he would like to say goodbye to my parents so the remainder of the evening was passed, my mother again doing the honours with the food and completing the ironing of some shirts she had washed and repaired , the property of Mr Shaw.
For a week following his farewell nothing unusual occurred, but one morning mother, who felt that she had to help any one in distress was approached by a very distraught wife of Sgt Carpenter who stated that her husband had been placed under close arrest and could mother obtain information from the Station C.O.
This was followed by national and local press reports of how R.A.F personnel were confined to barracks and some were under arrest for misappropriation of monies and the theft of petrol.
At this time it was made known that our Mr Shaw was in fact Lawrence of Arbia and had supposedly been investigating the alleged deficiencies at Mount Batten.
The reported death of Lawrence in the national press came as a surprise and to our family it was felt that for a man who was so quiet, gentle and unassuming it was indeed a tragedy.
The report stated while travelling at 70 mph he had hit a boy riding a butchers bicycle, the boy had been unhurt, but that Lawrence had been killed.
Following this report, for some obscure reason, a emergency meeting of the sailing club was called. Chaired by Mr Dort Pascho General Manager, Norrington Chemical Works Cattedown, it was decided that as Lawrence had sailed with the club, it would be a mark of respect to send a floral token.
Accordingly Mr Pascho did so, and attended the funeral in Dorset. It was thought by other members of the club, that to make a personal appearance seeing that apart from members of my family and Mr Pascho no other members had spoken to our Mr Shaw, it was somewhat surprising.
The visit was duly carried out, but on his return, Mr Pascho, when seen by my father, seemed perturbed and said that he could not reconcile himself with the press reports regard the circumstances of the death of Lawrence.
He stated that after the funeral he had actually taken photographs of the brough Suprior and that in his opinion a motor cycle traveling at the reported speed of 70 mph or even that of stationary motor cycle falling over, the damage would be greater than that shown on the photographs. Damage would surely have been, either handle-bars, wing, footrest etc. He had taken photographs from both front and rear offside centre view of tank engine etc. It was seen that apart from a slight dent on the top of the rear wing, no damage had occurred. Also that the whole service, which was attended by very notable personalities, seemed to be lacking in sincerity, some mourners wearing cloths not normally worn at funerals, ie, sports trousers and jacket and almost unkown, women mourners entering the church and not wearing hats or even a scarf.
My father having seen the photographs discussed some with Mr Pascho, suggested that in view of what such photographs conveyed, and the conflict they could cause it would be prudent to keep a low profile.
This proved to be sound advice, as Mr Pascho was to discover within a short period of time, while in his office he was visited by two men in civilian cloths, who identified themselves as Wing Commander Lloyd and the other, whose name he could not remember, but who stated he was from the Foreign office and that he had information to the effect that Mr Pascho had in his possession photographs taken of a motor cycle owned by Mr Shaw and the photographs, the negatives plus anything relating to this matter be handed over to him immediately and that he was to discuss this meeting with no one in future.
Furthermore. they wanted the names of any other persons who had seen the photographs and with whom he had discussed it. The result of which my father was visited by the same two men, he was also told that as a matter of national security he was not to discuss this matter with anyone.
My father recorded details of the interview immediately afterwards. This report together with the letter received from Lawrence to my parents, was given to me on the death of my father, both the report and letter was destroyed by fire at my home in Sussex on the 1st June 1950.
The reader is now left to decide whether Lawrence of Arabia was killed in a motor cycle accident, if so, why was it found necessary to send Wing Commander Lloyd and Foreign office official to visit Mr Pascho and my father or did he continue to carry out the outstanding work for which his country has so disgracefully ignored him.'

Wednesday 8 June 2011

Television



In the 1960s and early 1970s, if you were lucky enough to have a television it would have been black and white and there were only three channels to watch - BBC 1, BBC2 and Westward. In Plymouth, most tellies were rented from either Rumbelows, DER or Granada. There were no remote controls and tvs had a dial to tune them in. That meant if you were a kid, your parents were always asking you to get up and turn the channel over or turn the sound up or down. Remote controls were something you only heard of in American tv programmes. Because we had a black and white telly, mum used to take us to the cinema more and we'd see the latest Walt Disney or James Bond films. We'd always go to the local cinema in St Budeaux, 'The State' (it is now!), or travel into town to the ABC, the Drake or the Odeon in Union Street. One year, I remember, my gran visited us from her home in Seaham Harbour and took me to see 'Carry On Henry' at the ABC. She was embarrassed though because Barbara Windsor appeared in it with no clothes on. It seems tame nowadays. I suppose I was about 7 at the time.
We loved the tv then with shows like Randall and Hopkirk, Department S, The Champions, Land of the Giants, The Monkees etc.
I remember a family in the street getting the first colour tv in the early 1970s and all the kids were invited in to see it.
'What did you think of it?' asked my mum when I returned home.
'Rubbish!' I replied. 'Everyone's orange!'
The family who owned the telly didn't realise that you could adjust the colour and just left it at the highest setting!
Eventually, we rented our own colour tv and stopped going to the cinema. A colour tv seemed amazing back then and it was great to watch programmes like Kojak, Columbo, Hawaii Five-0, Kung Fu etc in full colour.
Nowadays, everyone has a colour tv and it's hard to imagine that people all had small black and white sets with legs that looked like they could walk towards you.
My old 20 inch tube telly has just gone kaputt so I decided to buy a new fangled 33 inch flat screen one. Wow!
Now, if only there was something on to watch...