Citizen Survivor Tales (The Ministry of Survivors)

by Denham, Richard

  ‘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.

  ATTENTION!

  ADVANCE WARNING.

  PORT ISAAC IS NO LONGER ACCEPTING outsiders. WE DO NOT HAVE ENOUGH FOOD TO FEED OUR OWN! MOVE ALONG.

  GO BEYOND THIS SIGN AT YOUR PERIL.

  - PORT ISAAC CIVIL COMMITTEE

  ‘Wathmere calling, Wathmere calling. A betrayal, a betrayal I denounce, of the most despicable. Where words and noise clang like iron and steel, forged into weapons on the great anvil of lies. To make a mockery of the great halls and pull back the curtains and for what? Do you wish to applaud you fools? Applaud the masks and the dances and think not on their meaning or their purpose. Parade me then like a perverse Aesop, parade me and let me be your whipping boy. Let the blood on the cobbled streets be my signature, let the ash and smoke rise in my likeness if that is what you must believe. Peace, peace is the sound that cannot be overheard by jeering mobs and screaming babes. Vile and odious it must seem, dire, dire, and may clarity reach you when the moans have quietened and the raging seas calmed. Are we the architects of our own design, or but pathetic and pitiful reeds that blow and bend in violent storms? - Earl Wathmere, BUS Radio

  THE ENTREPRENEUR

  Name: Sir Montgomery Brown

  Location: London

  Occupation: [omitted]

  Threat level: [omitted]

  Article clearance: [omitted]

  Case file: [omitted]

  Interviewing Sir Montgomery Brown is not easy. First, one must get past his small army of minders and secretaries and then into his home in Kensington, which is fortified to an extreme and some may say excessive degree. I was marched, at rifle point, into his presence having been searched by a none-too-gentle woman guard. The following interview has been checked by Sir Montgomery’s staff, although I have since been able to add back in things which I had managed to jot down on my cuff. To avoid unduly influencing my readers, I have not indicated these sections – see if you can tell for yourself. Finally, if I disappear, or anything happens to me, I would like to tell my entire readership that Sir Montgomery and his entourage should be where any investigations, should any be allowed, must begin.

  Sir Montgomery, what attracted you to the British Union of Survivors?

  Before I start it is important to remember that the BUS in the early days compared to what you see now were very different animals. The Black-shirt thugs, who are fortunately now a minority, are unrecognisable in their ideals and methods from the BUS’ foundations. As often happens to well-meaning ideas, as history teaches us, it was hijacked by violent men.

  After the Battle of Crawley, there was a national outcry for peace, myself included; I wanted peace with the Reich. The war was clearly a lost cause; how many more men would have to die before we sued for peace? How much unnecessary suffering would there be before the inevitable defeat?

  We must remember that the British government were the aggressors in this conflict. We started the war. I don’t believe that the Reich would have fought Blighty at all if our warmongering politicians did not instigate it. After the siege of Redhill, well, that was the last roll of the dice wasn’t it and Westminster truly had its tail between its legs after that.

  Fortunately, diplomacy of a sort between Westminster and The Reich continued. The Reich knew all about the BUS and was well aware there was a movement among the populace for an end to the war. Many of the party members, including Earl Wathmere, had meetings with the German High Command, which I believe was a great aid to the later peace and ending of any further aggression.

  As for me, at the time all this was going on I was a City banker, and an extremely successful one at that. If there is one thing the world of finance needs, it is order, and calm, and war, although profitable in its way, wasn’t good for business. I had served in the Great War, and have experienced first-hand the absolute madness of it all. I was mortified when my sons were called up. Whatever the costs and sacrifice of peace, it was better than war. Whatever it took to pull my children out of that would be worth it.

  I had friends in high places, and they introduced me to leading figures within the BUS. Their message of peace resonated with me and I was soon attending party rallies and became a paid-up party member. Due to my fortunate financial position I became one of the party’s most generous donors. I was soon awarded a position on the committee as a result.

  Sir Montgomery, how well did you k
now Earl Wathmere?

  I wouldn’t say I knew him, not on any personal level. He was one of those sorts who stood out in any room, one of those charismatic men who became caricatures of themselves. Such an articulate and amusing man; well, his were speeches that everyone wanted to hear. In terms of his political stance, he was a moderate, but his way with words would convince anyone of anything, I believe.

  How did Earl Wathmere become involved with the BUS?

  There was of course a growing faction within Westminster sympathetic to the BUS and hoping for peace with The Reich. To the warmongers in government, this was most divisive and infuriating. After Operation Sea Lion this minority of Ministers simply became too large and loud to ignore. Earl Wathmere left the incumbent government and joined the BUS, much to our delight, and it was Wathmere’s defection that really made us a force to be reckoned with. Do remember though, Wathere was simply a well-known and recognisable member of the party, not the party itself, as others may have you believe. People seem to forget the party had been around a long time before Wathmere joined. With him, the BUS ranks swelled, the Black-shirts, as they had been nicknamed, were well and truly here to stay.

  I don’t believe he had any desire or ambitions to become Party leader. I believe it was something that just happened. He was far too powerful and admired by the public not to be. Wathmere was very much caught on the tide of success rather than being master of the seas directing those waves. Earl Wathmere was also a very influential media mogul, he owned the Southern Herald newspaper among many others, so he became a very effective cog in promoting the BUS machine to the nation.

  I remember Wathmere was always quite uncomfortable about being coerced into saying and championing ideas that were not his own. I don’t believe he was ever comfortable with the particularly militant style the black shirts of the BUS had adopted. He had grave concerns that the Black-shirts were in his words ‘A ravenous wolf that grows in strength, our tether weakens and soon it shall snap. And that wolf will no longer be under our control. It will be feral and deadly, so please, let us not feed this beast any further’.

  Tensions between the Government and the BUS party grew more and more strained. It wasn’t until the second battle of Cable Street, and all that nasty business that followed with the police, that civilities well and truly broke down. Earl Wathmere was declared an enemy of the crown by Downing Street and the BUS party were banned as a treasonous faction. A national amnesty was declared but those who ignored this would be dealt with in the harshest manner. The party continued to meet, albeit in more clandestine ways. Wathmere went into hiding, and there were more than enough powerful people sympathetic to him that he was able to continuously move from place to place, out of the reach of the Government and always one step ahead of the police.

  This outlawing of Earl Wathmere didn’t have the effect the Government planned, though. Actually, it was quite the opposite. He wasn’t viewed as an outcast, a criminal or a deviant. Instead he became somewhat of a martyr figure, a persecuted hero, a Robin Hood character of sorts. A champion of peace against a perverse and warmongering Government that was marching Britain into oblivion.

  The Black-shirt movement continued to grow, and as Wathmere prophesised, the tether snapped. Now, to reiterate, it’s important to distinguish between the BUS party and the Black-shirts, no matter how hard that seems. The Black-shirts were an unruly mob, a beacon to the most violent, thuggish and criminal sorts. They had a couple of nicknames that did amuse me, ‘the red bus’ on account of their violence, and the ‘double deckers’, again a pun on the acronym.

  As a party member of the British Union of Survivors, how did all this affect you?

  With the dissolution of the BUS, there was no control over the Black-shirts, none at all. Obviously, BUS had been banned, and the Government could enforce this among the politicians. However, on the street, against the Black-shirts, they simply didn’t have the manpower or resources to effectively police this, and there were too many men at all levels sympathetic enough to turn the other way. The Black-shirts saw themselves as an heroic and persecuted faction against a corrupt government and the tit-for-tat attacks and reprisals simply escalated the violence and anarchy. The Black-shirts were beyond the control of both the BUS and the Government. Westminster really began to take this matter very seriously indeed. After the riots and the Battle of Westminster Bridge, the Government began to negotiate with former members of BUS in secret to try to find a way to end the madness.

  Could you explain what was discussed at these secret meetings?

  No, no, never.

  Did you meet Earl Wathmere again?

  Yes, on several occasions, in fact. His time on the run had changed him drastically, though; he was unrecognisable, both in appearance and temperament. He was clearly very distressed about what was happening, despairing almost. It affected him greatly, he had sleepwalked into becoming the symbol and figurehead of the Black-shirts; a messianic figure for a cause that not only did he not agree with but actually opposed. The riots of Liverpool and Glasgow, the great fire of Lincoln. He was demonised by the government for this, who were always quick to lay the blame at his door, but he had no involvement, none at all, he had no part in any of it.

  He pleaded with the committee to allow him to stand down or resign, but they refused, he was simply too entrenched in the movement now to be allowed to walk away. Over the following months, Wathmere became increasingly isolated, hiding away, going days, weeks without seeing anyone. He turned to drink, and some would whisper to madness, in his grief and despair.

  What happened next?

  That’s the darnedest and most confusing thing. The Government had realised he was losing his mind and they used this to their diabolic advantage. I don’t really know what or how it happened, only the Government at the time do, but somehow one of their men was able to infiltrate the BUS movement and befriended Wathmere. The agent pretended he was sympathetic to him. He told Wathere that he was part of a faction within the party that wanted to turn away from violence and disassociate themselves from the Black-shirts and they arranged to move Wathmere to a secret estate.

  Wathmere eventually agreed, and travelled at night with the Agent to the estate, the location of which no one except that Government knows of course.

  And here is the most despicable thing in my mind, the Government prayed on his deteriorating mental health, grief and despair. They announced they were creating the British Union of Survivors radio, and Earl Wathmere was to be the host. This was despicable for two reasons, firstly, Earl Wathmere genuinely believed these men were on his side, they would encourage him to ramble and spurt nonsense and applaud him for it, allowing and I suspect encouraging him to be in drink and making him think that they and the public were on his side. Secondly, the whole purpose of this was for his broadcasts to show the country what a nonsense he was, and to cheapen the BUS at the same times.

  It worked didn’t it?

  Yes, yes, very well, in fact, way beyond the Government’s wildest dreams, I’d imagine. Earl Wathmere became a laughing-stock, countless people would tune into his drunken broadcasts. The BUS tried to distance themselves from him but it didn’t work. Over time, BUS gradually fell apart into various local factions and began to crumble from within. There was, and still is, a fanatical element who remained loyal to Wathmere, but this dwindling minority remain well and truly on the fringes.

  The Ministry still operate BUS radio to this day, and Earl Wathmere must be nothing more than a prisoner to them. I have heard rumours that he lives his life in his study, with his radio equipment, locked away from the outside world. If this is true I don’t know, but it wouldn’t surprise me and as you know, Wathmere is undoubtedly beyond the ability to understand or escape his situation.

  Do you regret the fall of the BUS?

  I’d be so bold to say I believe you’d be surprised to know how many former BUS members made up the XXII committee and the Ministry from there. So, in a bizarre way, with the pe
ace, the BUS, and particularly Earl Wathmere, got what he wanted after all. The tragedy being though I doubt the Earl is even aware…

  What is your current situation?

  Come now, that’s not what we are discussing is it? Let’s just say I’ve remained very pragmatic with my loyalties. I’m very comfortable still here in London, and I have enough fingers in different pies for that to continue for the foreseeable future. Gentleman such as I will always endure. Money still talks, and always will…

  You say the Black-shirts were disbanded and the BUS distanced themselves from them, but aren’t the men guarding your house Black-shirts?

  Be careful, I don’t want you asking questions you don’t want to hear the answer too. Anyone who has the sense and money has personal security don’t they? And their uniforms my men wear, there not really black are they? More of a dark navy…

  Anyway, I’d like to end this interview now. I have a soiree on Great Smith Street to attend tonight.

  ‘Just smile comrades and hopefully no one will mention Wind-bag at our party conference in Margate…’

  - Southern Herald

  MOS Archives, ref. INF9/909 (endorsed)