大象传媒

On reflection, I suppose my boyhood and youth were substantially affected by the war. At first, I took for granted the freedom to explore by foot and bicycle the great estates of Hopetoun and Dalmeny, without being challenged by gamekeepers or estate factors, although as a law-abiding young citizen the only mischief I got up to was gathering horse chestnuts from around trees facing Hoptoun House, but perhaps I was merely discovering the Scottish freedom from the restrictions of trespass which seem to be such an issue in England. Anyway, the estates seemed to be unpopulated and that suited me and my dog Lassie, who was allowed to run freely through the woods and over empty pastures, but always responding to the piercing whistle which I practiced to perfection, using two fingers between teeth and pursed lips, not a skill to be used in more confined spaces. At weekends and in school holidays these explorations covered the entire parish and beyond and I got to know roads and bridle paths, remote cottages and places like Society, Blackness and Champany Corner to the west and Cramond to the east, mostly from the shore or from paths not very far from the shore, sometimes with great views of the Firth of Forth. (Incidentally, I was once privileged to see, from beyond the platform at Dalmeny Station, the Home Fleet at anchor between the Forth Bridge and Rosyth, the most impressive assembly of battleships imaginable, at least to a boy of ten.)

The Army Cadet Force had a platoon at Queensferry, which seemed at the time a very appropriate training, especially as it was affiliated to the Royal Scots, in which my father had served in WW1 (joining under false pretenses at the age of 14). I started at the same age and became so enthusiastic at map-reading, infantry training, rifle practice with my Lee Enfield, etc., that by the age of 16 I managed to score what I was told were the the highest marks in West Lothian in War Certificate "A" , the junior version of the OTC's War Certificate "B". In the meantime, I joined also the JTC at school, which was affiliated to the 9th Battalion of the Royal Scots and was provided with my other uniform, a tunic, with a wide web belt of WW1 pattern, a kilt, hose tops and puttees, a single-breasted greatcoat and, to top it all, a Glengarry with the Royal Scots badge. This uniform was worn one day every week during term, while the ACF uniform was on twice a week (midweek and Sundays). I confess that by the age of 16 my interest in the army was such that I could describe the organisation of a British infantry brigade (manpower and equipment) and that of a German infantry battalion.

The platoon commander, with the rank of lieutenant, was a well-known, middle-aged postman, who smoked a pipe, who was always smoking a pipe, whose face I remember clearly, never without a pipe, but he was was as fit as a fiddle and exercised close control over his boys, making them into a smart body of well-trained, would-be infantrymen. I will always be grateful for his encouragement, especially for teaching me to drive his post office van when I accompanied him on his rounds at the age of 14, mostly on the Hopetoun and Dalmeny estates, but on one occasion on a road into Dalmeny then called the Dark Entrance (possibly on account of large, overhanging trees) when it was empty of traffic. The wartime (and pre-war) postmistress was also well disposed to me, employing me during school holidays as a telegram messenger, part-time postman (at Christmas) and mail sorter, in which employment I learned the whereabouts of most places in the U.K. and how to flip envelopes into pigeon-holes with some speed. The nearest I came to wartime service was when I accepted another part-time job as a telephone operator at the local ARP headquarters, but the war was nearly over and fortunately I was never called to take up my post, as I had no experience with the telephone, except for taking down an occasional telegram message.

Having heard that my father could not afford the fees, I promptly left school during the war, very prematurely (made up for it afterwards, in a crammer), and worked as a junior law clerk for an old Edinburgh firm who had advertised on the school notice board, learned very quickly and was given a variety of work some of which in peacetime had been undertaken by solicitors or adult clerks. On one or two occasions I was sent off to other law firms to wind up estates, never exactly sure of what I was doing, but following instructions to the letter and being received with great courtesy by senior partners whose junior colleagues were in the services.

In my first report I suggested that my experience of boyhood and early youth was scarcely touched by the war, but I really had in mind the absence of any real hardships or bad experiences, for the war certainly presented me with choices which were unique and with experiences which were almost Dickensian in nature.