大象传媒

In 1964 I was employed by a leading Football Pools company here in Liverpool. Part of my responsibilities included customer service. In this role I would help clients who had difficulty in filling in their weekly football forecasts. Depending on the degree of difficulty this would be done by letter or a personal visit to the client鈥檚 home.
It was about this time that Viscount Montgomery of Alamein wrote to my employers. In his letter he admitted that football coupons were not 鈥渉is form of war鈥� but felt that the challenge of forecasting the results of football matches would be an interesting pastime that would occupy his time during the long winter evenings of the football season.

At that time 鈥淢onty鈥�, as he was affectionately known throughout the land, had retired from the Armed Forces, and had taken up an active role in The House of Lords. Monty is remembered more for his exploits as the Commander of the 8th Army in North Africa, better known as the 鈥淒esert Rats鈥�, and the never to be forgotten victory in the Battle of El Alamein against the German Afrika Korps led by Field Marshall Rommel. Later he led the British Armed Forces in the invasion of Europe and eventually accepted the surrender of the German Army at Luneberg Heath in May 1945. In 1946 he was awarded the title of Viscount Montgomery of Alamein for his outstanding services to the British People.

It was against this background that I was asked to arrange to visit Viscount Montgomery at his home in Hampshire. With apprehension I rang him on the telephone. The great man himself answered, 鈥淢ontgomery speaking鈥�. I recognised his voice immediately for I had heard it many times previously on the radio, television and newsreel films. He welcomed my suggestion that I should visit him at home on the following Thursday.

I travelled to London on the Wednesday and, as arranged, I phoned Monty to finalise arrangements for our meeting on the following day. He told me that his diary was entirely free for the following day and that he was looking forward to our meeting so that he could plan for 鈥渢he tactical battle ahead鈥�. It was agreed that I should get the 9.00am train from Liverpool Street Station and that he would meet me off the train when it arrived in Alton Station.

On the train journey to Alton Station I wandered about the etiquette of how I should address 鈥淢onty鈥�. He truly was a legend in his own lifetime. He was a much respected National hero. He had been an inspiration not only to the troops under his command but also to the people of our Country. I was 10 years of age when he led the invasion of Europe and I can distinctly remember that we all considered that Monty was invincible and with him leading our troops victory would be assured. I decided that on meeting with him I should address him as 鈥淟ord Montgomery鈥� and thereafter as 鈥淪ir鈥�. Such was my respect for the man.

As the train came into Alton station I lowered the window of the train exit door. I saw him standing on the platform. For a man of near 80 years of age he looked remarkable fit. Tall, slim and erect. He wore brown shoes; cavalry twill trousers, fawn shirt with a tie that was obviously regimental in its origin. He had no jacket or coat but wore a fawn worsted waistcoat. He was dressed appropriately for a warm summer鈥檚 day. I was about to meet this great man.

I walked up to him with outstretched hand. 鈥淟ord Montgomery鈥�, I said, 鈥渕y name is Suffield.鈥� He took my hand in both his hands and shook it firmly. 鈥淭hank you for coming鈥�, he said. He led me out of the station into the parking area and opened the car door for me. The car was a Daimler 鈥� made in Germany. I thought to myself that he was obviously making a statement in his choice of car. I felt that it was not appropriate for me to comment. It was not a new car and could well have been of pre war vintage. 鈥淲e will be home in 5 minutes,鈥� he said.

Isington Mill, where Monty lived, is a beautiful restored water mill. It stands in its own grounds with the mill stream flowing vigorously. The rooms were low beamed. The walls of the rooms contained photographs of personalities who would now fall out of our history books. Some I didn鈥檛 recognise whilst others were of Franklin D. Roosevelt, King George 6th and Queen Elizabeth and our present Queen and Prince Philip. Monty shared his home with a housekeeper who soon brought in a tray of sandwiches and pots of tea and coffee.

Monty asked about Liverpool telling me that he had visited the City on a number of occasions and clearly remembered St. George鈥檚 Hall and the impressive waterfront. He was aware that the docks had been a target for German bombers and that during the May blitz of 1941 terrible damage had been done to our City with a consequent heavy loss of life.

He added that he had been privileged to have under his military command many Liverpudlians and would always remember them for their resourcefulness, their leadership, their sense of humour and their dedication but above all he remembered them for their comradeship. He commented that if you were ever under heavy bombardment and in need of a cup of tea you could always rely upon a scouser to have tea and dried milk in his backpack. He marvelled at the ability of scousers to cut hair. With nothing but a comb, a pair of scissors and an open razor they would readily set up a lucrative business cutting hair.

He had other good reasons for remembering Liverpudlians. He said that their presence at Church Parades was always a dominant feature amongst the congregation and their ability to answer prayers and lead in the singing of hymns highlighted the strength of their Faith. He recalled another feature of Liverpudlians was that they invariably came from large families where 6 and more children were not uncommon. He became more than aware of this fact when Liverpudlians became casualties of the war, whether or not they were military or civilian casualties. He felt that the impact of death had to be greater among such families.

After our tea and sandwiches we walked through the grounds of his home. He continued to reminisce about the consequences of war and the tragic toll of death and tragedy. He remembered thinking that as soldiers were moved forward to the front line, to replace the wounded and the dead, the replacement soldiers invariably seemed to get younger. Sometimes he considered they were not old enough to shave.

He also commented on the war that was being fought on the 鈥淗ome Front鈥� by the mothers, wives and children of the men in the front line. He had always been aware of their individual courage and bravery but their resolve and determination to play their part in the war effort encouraged him. They were struggling to rear their families despite food rationing and severely restricted supplies of everyday household items. Coal was in desperate short supply which frequently meant that they were denied the only form of heating and hot water for their homes. They were further handicapped by constant air raid warnings that meant they had to seek refuge in shelters for possibly hours on end.

He related to me an incident that occurred some years after the war when an Italian father unexpectedly arrived at Monty鈥檚 home. The father鈥檚 two sons had been killed in battle during the North African campaign. He had come to England to seek retribution for their deaths and he challenged Monty to a 鈥渄uel鈥� claiming that honour would then be satisfied. Instead Monty invited him into his home, against the advice of the local police.

Monty told me that they had talked for the best part of 2 hours. The father had brought with him photographs of his 2 boys, as children with the family and in later years as young men proudly wearing their Italian Army uniforms. Monty said he had great compassion for the 2 boys and their family and compared their deaths with the inevitability of war. It was noticeable that in recalling this incident Monty constantly referred to the causalities as 鈥渢he 2 boys鈥� and not 鈥渢he enemy鈥�, or 鈥渢he soldiers鈥�. Monty said that when the father left they embraced each other and added that it was not so much in friendship but more in a mutual understanding of the other鈥檚 position.

He pointed out to me that all information regarding the conduct of the war was restricted in case it proved to be of benefit to the enemy. Families would not know in which theatre of war their husbands and sons were serving. This necessitated the censoring of all mail from a war zone to families back home in case the letters betrayed some restricted information. He referred to one particular case where a soldier from Liverpool sent a letter to his family. The letter contained the sentence, 鈥淚 saw Napolean this morning but before I could get his autograph he road off on his bicycle鈥�. The censors claimed that this sentence contained a cryptic clue that the soldier was now stationed in France and was therefore reasonably safe as the war had now progressed into Germany. The sentence was deleted from the letter by a heavy blue pencil.

By now it was time to get down to the task in hand 鈥� how to make an entry on a football coupon. The next few hours were spent in explaining how this was done. Monty was a keen pupil and asked many questions before he felt confident that he could submit an entry. It was now time for me to return home to Liverpool.

We left his home, Isington Mill, shortly after 4 pm. Again Monty drove me to the station in his Daimler car. On our arrival he led me into the station and we stood together on the platform awaiting the arrival of the train to London. As the train approached he again took my hand into his two hands and wished me a safe journey home.

On boarding the train I again pulled down the window of the door to wave good bye.
I felt rather sad leaving him to return to a home surrounded by memories. I felt he had enjoyed our time together. I certainly did. I gained the impression that he was lonely in his declining years and the prospect of passing the forthcoming long winter evenings forecasting the results of football matches excited him. Is this how we treat our National heroes? Viscount Montgomery of Alamein died in 1976 aged 89. His war was finally over.

John Suffield.
23rd May 2005.

Footnote.

The following day I returned to my work at Littlewoods Pools. Later I heard that a letter had been received from Viscount Montgomery in that morning鈥檚 post. The letter was addressed to my manager and was written and signed by Monty in his own handwriting. I was allowed to photograph the letter and retain it as a keepsake. I still have possession of that photograph copy. Below I have detailed the contents of that letter.

Tel: Bently 3128 Isington Mill,
Alton,
Hants.

25-8-66.

Dear Endicott,

I must thank you for your very kindly help over my introduction to the Pools. Mr. Suffield called here on Wednesday with all the pamphlets and papers, but I was in London all day and did not return until 6.00pm.

I then got down to trying to fill in the coupon for Saturday 27th August and got completely involved. I couldn鈥檛 understand it. Then Suffield telephoned from London later that evening and offered to come along here today 鈥� which he did. He was most helpful and courteous, and if all your staff are like him you are well served.

My coupon, and Postal Order, for Saturday 27th August has been posted today and I am well set to carry on.

Thank you so very much.

Yrs. sincerely,

'This story was submitted to the People鈥檚 War site by 大象传媒 Radio Merseyside鈥檚 People鈥檚 War team on behalf of the author and has been added to the site with his / her permission. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions.'

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