Citizen Survivor Tales (The Ministry of Survivors) (4 page)

One: Hello skipper

Two: Hello navigator, half a minute to go

Two: Hello engineer, will you put the revs up please

Three: Yes, yes

One: A lot of fighter planes skipper, keep weaving, that’s, that’s it

Four: Bomb doors open

Two: Ok bombardier, ready when you are

Five: A lot of Jerry behind us

(Sound of machine-gun fire)

Two: Where is he rear gun, I couldn’t see him

(Sound of a crew member crying out)

Five: No, no, we’ve had it I’m afraid

Two: Try, try, try to land in the sea, get ready to-

(Sound of machine-gun fire)

(End of communication)

MOS Archives, ref. INF9/854 (endorsed)

THE HOUSEWIFE

Name: Anne Routy
Location: Port Isaac, Cornwall
Occupation: Homemaker
Threat level: 1
Article clearance: Silver
Case file: 76/9564/GBW

I travelled with some difficulty down to Port Isaac to interview Anne Routy, a widow with two children. She lives in what some would consider idyllic surroundings, the archetypal cottage with roses around the door. Her garden is full of flowers and vegetables, with not an inch wasted. Down in a corner, screened from the house, there are chickens and – when the wind is in the right direction – it is clear that there is also a pig. With the sky a bright and cloudless blue and the cries of seagulls filling the crisp air from the sea, it is easy to forget the occurrences of recent times. Mrs Routy is not a native of these parts and her story is an interesting one.

Mrs. Routy, thank you for talking to me. I understand you and your late husband were originally from London? How did you end up in Port Isaac?

Oh it was terrible wasn’t it, what was ‘appening in London, we knew we had to get away from it all. After The Battle of Crawley, we knew we ‘ad to get out while we still could. Robin and I were extremely lucky you see. ‘e had family ‘ere in Port Isaac and ‘e ‘ad a promise of work as a fisherman from ‘is cousin under the very kind Mr. Shipham, so we left as soon as we could with the kids. I wasn’t scared really, I suppose I was actually quite excited, the kids saw it as an adventure and that rubbed off on me. Oh, me and Robin ‘ad our problems, as all couples do and Cornwall was a fresh start for us all.

Did it take you long to adapt to your new life?

Oh not at all; Robin ‘ad worked in a factory and always talked off ‘ow much ‘e ‘ated it, so in some ways this work was like a ‘oliday to ‘im. The lads in the village were very kind and ‘e was paired up with his cousin who taught ‘im the ropes, pardon the pun!

We were assigned to a vacant cottage, this place you’re in now as a matter of fact. The owner ‘ad died with no next of kin and it was all part of the Ministry’s re’ousing initiative. I’ll always be grateful that we were one of the early lucky ones, we struck gold really. Obviously our ‘ouse in London was forfeit, but that’s probably rubble now anyway, isn’t it? We were very lucky, the teachers at the school insisted on carrying on as normal so that kept the children busy too.

For me, it was more of the same really, a woman’s work is the same anywhere. The women-folk of Port Isaac are a different stock to those in London but we soon became friendly enough and good neighbours. They even baked us cakes to welcome us and taught us some tricks on ‘ow to manage our allotment and garden.

The children loved it too really, some days they’d complain it was quiet or they were bored, and there was none of the brouhaha back in the East-end but they soon adapted, when they were told stories of how other children ‘ad it they soon became grateful.

Have you been able to sustain yourself and your family?

Oh, yes, my love, of course. The good thing about fishing is there is something to fish all year round, Pilchards from July to November, ‘erring from November to January, January to July is mackerel and up until April you’ve got flatfish, ray, conga and skate, you get the idea. Port Isaac is a fisherman’s dream, Robin never ‘ad to worry about ‘auling up his boat on the tide, the ‘arbour wall kept it safe from the rough seas.

Mr. Shipham often discussed the changes to ‘is suppliers and I suppose the lack of them, but it certainly didn’t seem to affect anyone in the village too much. Things became more local, money stopped being such a concern and things were often paid in services or bartered rather than paid for, but I suppose unless you are well off you wouldn’t notice the difference much.

How has the community here responded to national events?

Oh yes, there’s be some ‘orrible stories elsewhere hasn’t there? People starving in the cities, riots, looting. Makes you wonder why the government can’t get their act together. At first, most of Port Isaac’s catch was requisitioned by the government, which was fine, the men didn’t mind doing their bit. Gradually though, these trips got less and less, and we certainly weren’t going to go out of our way to ‘and it over unless we were asked too. Sometimes the men did go into town to find out what was going on but would often appear to come back more confused than when they left.

The town ‘all was also concerned about attracting too many evacuees too, the first waves we could put to work on the boats or on the land, but gradually we ‘ad to start turning people away, which could often end up quite unpleasant as you can imagine. We formed a town watch after the first few scuffles, eventually we found it easier to turn folk away before they got too near the village. This did make me and Robin feel very guilty really, the only difference between them and us was the fact we ‘ad got ‘ere a year or so earlier.

Could you explain the circumstances before the incident involving your late husband?

Robin was such a good ‘onest man, oh, ‘e enjoyed his drink, but what man doesn’t? ‘e was just doing his shifts for Mr. Shipham, funny old name that isn’t it, for someone who works with boats. It was shellfish season, I remember that, summer it was, Robin would always take an extra crab pot for luck, not that ‘e ever ‘ad much, mind! The potting grounds were about a mile from shore. ‘e had a good ‘aul though, three dozen crabs. ‘e’d always return ‘ome late afternoon when ‘e ‘ad been with the crabs. ‘e did ‘ave a temper on ‘im, so I’d always ‘ave to make sure ‘is dinner was ready for ‘im on time or it could cause quite the upset.

Sometimes, and it’s awful to say, but I’d like it when ‘e was doing pilchards, because that’s a night-time job, and it’d give Robin a chance to calm down and sober up. ‘e’d leave just before sunset in pilchard season and not be back until morning. Mr. Shipham would come and visit me now and then, just to check in and make sure everything was alright. It was a lovely sunny day; the village was bustling with daily life. The men were drying out their fishing nets on the ‘arbour wall ready for tanning. I was ‘anging out the washing, a woman’s work is never done is it? Each day a trip to the market and a rummage through the allotment and I wasn’t expecting Robin until the morning.

I remember one morning there was a terrible commotion by the front door, I was still in bed and Robin ‘ad come in with a couple of other lads and some injured chap who was ‘alf drowned and ‘alf naked, unconscious too. They explained they’d pulled him from a life raft a few miles out. We reported this to the town ‘all but they didn’t really seem to take much of an interest, believing him to just be another refugee and, I’ll always remember this, they gave us ‘permission to do as our conscience and the current circumstances see fit’.

‘e was a young man, more of a child really, ‘e ‘ad a lovely smile on him. We nursed this man back to ‘ealth in the spare bedroom, over several weeks, ‘e couldn’t say more than thank you to us, bless ‘is ‘eart. ‘ere is the thing though, we eventually realized, he was a Jerry, if you can believe it! ‘e couldn’t communicate with us and no one in the village spoke German. Robin didn’t know what to do, ‘e reported it again to the town ‘all but again, for reasons I’ll never understand, they didn’t seem interested, they suggested giving him a row-boat to make ‘is way back across the Channel but the poor blighter was in no condition for that. We nicknamed him Jerry and despite what was going on, we trusted him, he helped out with the allotment and was always willing to work. The neighbours thought it odd that we ‘ad ‘im, like some sort of pet, but we explained we had reported it and were waiting to be told what to do, we thought the army would come to collect him at some point but they never did.

I remember one day Mr. Shipham came over, ‘e thought the whole thing was quite amusing really, and brought round some paper and pencils. I think Jerry must ‘ave knocked ‘is ‘ead though or was still ill as ‘e never seemed quite there. Mr. Shipham gave Jerry the pencil in the ‘ope ‘e could draw or explain what ‘ad ‘appened to him. Eventually Jerry drew what we could tell was the English Channel, with a big boat where we were. ‘e then drew a line around the map with the words ‘Ring Aus Stahl’ and what we think were battleships and landmines. An arrow pointed to one of the battleships near us.

‘Well that’s it’ Robin said, ‘e’s obviously from the German navy. I don’t think we’d be doing ourselves any favours if anything happens to Jerry, we should return ‘im. Who knows, we might even get rewarded.’ Mr. Shipham and Robin had a ‘eated debate about the blockade, but Robin thought, if he took ‘im out, in a rowing vessel, with a big white flag, everything would be ok. Jerry was obviously oblivious to this conversation. Eventually, Mr. Shipham agreed to let Robin take one of ‘is rowing boats out.

Robin didn’t waste any time, ‘e dressed Jerry up for the journey and took ‘im to the ‘arbour and out into the boat, ‘e’d brought with ‘im a white-bed sheet as a flag and Mr. Shipham and I saw ‘im off. Mr. Shipham said ‘e’d stay at mine that night to make sure I was ok until Robin returned.

What happened next?

I don’t know really. As they set off, Jerry seemed to be protesting and trying to grab the oars as if to turn round but Robin overpowered ‘im; then I remember the drone of a fighter plane some minutes later. Robin and Jerry were soon turning into a dot on the ‘orizon but I remember the plane circled several times, we guessed ‘e was checking out the boat but then, would you believe it, it began firing its machine guns onto the boat! The poor men didn’t stand a chance and the boat sank, the bodies were never recovered.

That must have been awful, I’m sorry.

Oh it was years ago now love, this sort of thing ‘appens in war. There were lots of guesses by the men at what ‘ad ‘appened, but I’ll tell you this, the men are careful about going too far out to sea now! Anyway life for me is fine, and we’re doing well, Mr. Shipham is looking after us – in fact, I better run soon, ‘e’s taking me to the dance tonight!

Like so much of life these days, it seems down in Port Isaac, it is a case of least said, soonest mended. And I did come home with a lovely hamper of fresh vegetables, newly laid eggs and some bacon. The pilchards were a nice thought, but I swapped those in the first pub I came to that was still open on the way home; they could do with something to supplement the bar snacks and I was just desperate after all that fresh sea air for a nice stiff gin.