大象传媒

In early 1940, I was three and a half years old and my sister Gillian was a baby of about 3 months. My father, George Morrison, was at that time a Metropolitan police officer serving in the East End of London. His home was in the Isle of Lewis in the Outer Hebrides. He decided that my mother Ellen should take us two children and go home to Lewis to live with his mother and sisters where we would be safe.

My mother undertook the journey by train from London via Inverness, and travelled onwards to the Kyle of Lochalsh to catch the ferry across to Stornoway, quite a feat with two such young children at that time.

My mother has always told the story of how, on reaching Achnasheen Railway Station in the Highlands, the train was stopped and she, my baby sister and myself were removed from the train by the Army, she was told on suspicion of spying.

We were taken to a house somewhere near Achnasheen she thought, where after telephone calls to London the Army established that she was in fact the wife of a serving Metropolitan Police officer and that his home was indeed in Breasclete in Lewis. And we were then taken by the Army in a car to Kyle of Lochalsh to catch the ferry boat to Stornoway.

One of my earliest memories, and the only memory I have of this incident, is the car journey to Kyle, through trees in pouring rain and through puddles of water which threw the water over the top of the car.

I have always wondered about the story, and three years ago on a visit to Inverness, my cousin and I stopped at Achnasheen on our way to Inverewe, and I asked an elderly lady in the post office whether this story could possibly be true. She confirmed that there had indeed been a check-point at Achnasheen Station and that the Army did make some sort of check on passengers while trains were stopped there.

Apparently there were secret goings-on at unknown places between Achnasheen and the coast.

My mother now (approaching her 100th birthday!) has no memory and I cannot question her in more detail about the event, but I have my own memories and the story is famous within the family! I cannot imagine that even in the days of the phoney war, a young woman spy would travel with a three year old and a baby.

Within weeks my mother had to return to London with the baby who was not thriving in the climate in Lewis, but I remained in Breasclete with my father's family and did not see my mother and father again until I also returned to London when I was almost seven - by which time I spoke more Gaelic than English!

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