Philippa Carr: We'll meet again

“It does no good to keep silent,” he went on. “It is something which is on our minds whether we talk of it or not.” He smiled at me. “I can talk to you, Violetta. In fact, it helps in a way.”

I was a little taken aback. I had not thought of his needing help. He always seemed so self-sufficient. But how upsetting it must be, even to the most self-reliant person, to discover that his mother is a murderess.

“It is hard to see her so,” he went on. “Her poor lost mind wandering, trying to grasp reality. And, Violetta, I can only hope that she never does. It is better for her to go on like this than remember the truth.”

I nodded. “And she did it all for you, Gordon. All that plotting … all that obsession grew out of her love for you.”

“I do not forget it,” he replied. “I never shall. If only she had confided in me. I hoped, with her, that my father would recognize me. It was true that I had improved the estate, that I was the one who cared for it. But my mother was not his wife, and there was Dermot … and then Tristan. I wanted a place of my own. I could have found something, I suppose. It would not have been an estate like Jermyn’s or Tregarland’s, of course. But there is something about a place of one’s own, however small.”

“You are part of Tregarland’s, Gordon. You love it. It has been your life.”

“If only…”

I touched his hand lightly.

“It is no use looking back. We have to go on, and we are in the midst of this dreadful war. None of us knows from one day to the next what is going to happen. It isn’t going very well, is it?”

“Grim,” he said. “The Germans are flooding into Holland and Belgium. Next it will be France.”

“They seem to be succeeding all along the line.”

“They were prepared. We were not. All during that decade when the Labour and Liberal parties were preaching disarmament, Hitler was laughing at our blind folly and building up his weapons, waiting for the moment to attack. It came. They were ready and we were not.”

“But we are preparing now.”

“Ever heard of shutting the stable door after the horse has run away?”

“Yes. But we are going to fight now.”

“We shall succeed in the end, and I believe that, now we realize the danger, we are of one mind. But we have to suffer for the blindness of people in the past. But for them, there might not have been a war at all. If only we could go back and do it all again! What we can do is face the facts. If only I had been wiser, I might have seen what was happening to my mother. Alas, the power to see into the future is not given us. I think we should always be ready to look at the truth and not delude ourselves to gain a little comfort temporarily.”

“Is it really very bad, do you think?”

“As bad as it could be, short of defeat, I imagine. But there is a fine spirit in the country, no doubt of that, and when we have our backs to the wall we can stand up as well as any. But let’s face it. The Germans have trumped up a story that Britain and France intend to invade Holland and Belgium, and Germany is going to ‘protect’ them. The Dutch and Belgians have different ideas and are standing out against them, but, of course, they are small and unprepared and the Germans are well equipped and disciplined. One can have no doubt that with little difficulty they will soon subdue them.”

“Our men are over there,” I said with a shudder.

Gordon’s eyes did not meet mine.

“Oh, Gordon, what can be happening?” I asked.

“Those people are fighting for the homeland. That gives them extra strength,” he said. “The tide will turn one day. Sometimes I feel I should be there, but we need to keep the estate going. Some of us have to stay. You will know, of course, that there is a fear that Germany might not only subdue the Netherlands, but France as well.”

“There is the Maginot Line.”

“That has not been tested yet, but the situation looks very bad. You know there is an organization being formed to protect our own country?”

“Is it the Local Defence Volunteers?”

“Anthony Eden is the new Secretary of War and he was talking about it the other day. You know what it means?”

“To protect us against invasion?”

“If France falls …”

“Surely that can’t be!”

“As you say, there is the Maginot Line. But Belgium and Holland, in spite of the bravery of their people, cannot be a difficult conquest, and as France, like ourselves, was not prepared beforehand … we must be ready for anything.”

“Surely Hitler could never succeed in invading England?”

“It would not be easy. There is the Channel.”

“Thank God for the Channel.”

“Well, we are preparing now. That is why the Local Defence Volunteers are being formed. You know how I feel about being at home, so … I have joined.”

“I do know. But you could not have been spared, Gordon.”

“That was pointed out to me. So I have joined this new organization. It will be run like an army. I am to be in charge of our group in this area.”

“I am glad, Gordon. I know you will do it very well.”

“I hope it never comes to invasion. But perhaps it is best to be realistic and look on the dark side, as well as the bright.”

“I agree with you. Just because we are preparing for an invasion does not mean that it will come.”

“The more prepared we are, the less likely it is to happen.”

I fell silent, thinking, as always, of Jowan and Edward who were out there. I tried not to imagine the hardships they might be suffering, what danger they were in. But that was not possible.

Gordon knew this. It was typical of him that he did not attempt to make light conversation as many would have done. He understood too well that that would not turn my mind from my anxieties. Instead, he went on to talk of the new organization and how enthusiastic were those men who were too old for, or were otherwise not eligible for, active service.

And when we came out of Smithy’s, Samson was ready and we returned to Tregarland’s together.

There is no need for me to say much of what happened during the rest of that beautiful May month. It is well known that disaster followed disaster. The Germans passed the much-vaunted Maginot Line quickly. They made their way across France and were in Boulogne by the last Sunday of the month.

We all went to church on that day. It was a day of prayer throughout the country and the Empire; the King and Queen, with the Queen of the Netherlands, who had sought refuge in England when her country was invaded, attended a service in Westminster Abbey.

The British Expeditionary Force and other Allied troops had been driven towards the town of Dunkirk by the advancing Germans and were cut off from the rest of the armies; the historic rescue had begun. The navy sent all available ships to bring the men home and hundreds of civilian boats joined in the rescue.

There followed a time of deep anxiety and a fierce determination among all who could be of help to bring our men home.

What happened in those never-to-be-forgotten days was little short of a miracle. The sea was calm and it was as though our prayers were being answered. The Germans were broadcasting that the British Army had been annihilated and victory was in their grasp, and that the British Isles would soon be under their domination as well as France, Belgium, Holland, and the whole of Western Europe.

The story of the determination and valor, the fight against desperate odds, is well known in our history—and the name of Dunkirk will always be remembered with reverence.

There was subdued rejoicing when the Prime Minister told us that nearly three-quarters of a million men had been brought safely back to Britain. It was no victory, he told us in somber tones. It was a miracle of deliverance. But we had to face the facts. The French were collapsing; eventually they would give way to German dominance to ensure peace. The Netherlands were in the hands of the enemy, and the battle for Britain was inevitable.