The Broadsword and the Englishman

By R. G. Harmon

Growing up in a devout, middle-class English family in China during the Sino–Japanese war leaves its mark on Bill and sets in place a series of events that leads him to join the war effort as a teenager, go down the coal mines of Wales and to eventually migrate to Australia to start afresh. But Bill is tortured by his past. A story set against the backdrop of war, the growth of a nation, the betrayal of a father and the influence of good friends, Bill traverses adulthood as a flawed man. With the support of his loving Welsh wife, Myfanwy, and the influence of his Chinese friends, Bill is forced to face his fears by revisiting the place of his childhood, Shanghai, China. Here, he eventually faces his demons and farewells a good friend, who leaves him with a symbol of peace and strength, his Chinese broadsword.

R. G. Harmon has also written The Missionary’s Son and The Prequel to The Broadsword and the Englishman.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley
• Release date: May 13, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463305812

R. G. Harmon

Rod was born in Geelong, Australia in 1958, the youngest of five children. After a seven year stint in the Australian Army as an Officer in the Royal Australian Engineers including two years with Commandos, he entered private enterprise. After his two children left home he and his wife realised a lifelong dream and undertook a lifestyle and career change. Now living in country Victoria, Rod has begun to write and establish himself as an author.

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About the Author

Dedication

R G Harmon

The Broadsword And the Englishman

Copyright © R G Harmon (2018)

The right of R G Harmon to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781788480512 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781788480529 (Hardback)

ISBN 9781788480536 (E-Book)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published (2018)

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd™

25 Canada Square

Canary Wharf

London

E14 5LQ

Acknowledgements

Chapter 1

Southampton Naval College

Bill, have you seen my glasses? Doctor Scobey called out from the sitting room. Poor old thing. He was as blind as a bat and a little doddery.

Two years ago, after the declaration of war by England against Germany, Father and my step mother, Marjorie, went back to China to continue their missionary work for the London Missionary Society, returning periodically on furlough. I hadn’t had any word from them for months. Father had deposited my three sisters and me in boarding schools and appointed Doctor Scobey as my guardian. Father respected Doctor Scobey and had chosen him based on his religious views, making him an obvious and convenient solution as my guardian in his absence.

It has been four years since I left Shanghai and my Chinese nanny, Amah. She had cared and loved me for my entire life, and I loved her like a mother. The day she died has haunted me since and I have suffered with nightmares: the blood seeping down her face from a wound inflicted by a bullet from a Japanese sniper.

Oh dear! I’m forever losing my glasses, Doctor Scobey said with a well-educated, middle-class English accent.

Doctor Scobey was sitting in his favourite well-worn leather chair. It had the familiar comforting smell of age, moulding to his body like a glove. He was a man of routine, and I was not entirely sure that Doctor Scobey was pleased to have me as his ward. He found it very inconvenient that the routine and order of his life was interrupted. Despite this, he had a gentle, kind soul and in an odd way, I liked him.

They’re on your head, Doctor Scobey, I replied, smiling to myself.

Ah, so they are. Thank you, Bill, he mumbled. Now young man, what is it that you want to talk to me about? he asked.

He fumbled with his glasses until he’d successfully placed them back on his nose and peered at me with a vacant look, like he had just met me for the first time.

Well, I said taking a big breath, all the boys at school are joining up and doing their bit for England. The other week the recruiting men came to the school from the Southampton Naval College, I replied cautiously.

Yes. Go on. Go on, he urged impatiently.

I’m sixteen and I can sign up as a cadet, I added quickly.

Wait on Bill. You should really finish your schooling first. We shouldn’t let a war interfere with your education. After all, wars end, and then we need to carry on with our lives. You should put this notion completely out of your mind, Doctor Scobey said dismissively as he peered over the wire rim of his glasses.

I was having none of it. I was determined to talk him into it. While a little doddery, he would listen to a good argument.

I chose my next words carefully. I understand your point of view, but I will never be a scholar. I am better suited to less academic pursuits. Joining the merchant navy as a cadet will provide me with the best opportunity for a worthy career while doing my bit for the war effort. The Southampton Naval College has an excellent reputation, and I need your permission to join up, I replied, giving it my best shot.

Yes, yes, yes! I can see that you’re keen, Bill, but this is a serious decision. I need time to think on it, he paused and cradled his chin with his thumb and third finger while tapping his lips with his index finger before continuing, you have already tried to run away on two other occasions to sign up to the armed forces, so I do know how keen you are. It hasn’t gone unnoticed that you’ve been struggling with your school work, and I understand that you see this as an opportunity for a worthy career. Well, I suppose all I can do is promise you that I will give it my serious consideration and will let you know my decision in due course. Bear in mind, young man, that I need to consider what your father would want as well, he concluded.

I thanked him for his time and left the room. At least he didn’t say no.

I wanted to do something better with my life and I—like so many others my age—was keen to join the war effort to fight the Nazis . It wasn’t that I disliked school, I just didn’t see the point of it, and I was barely passing my subjects. After all, the thought of going to sea to support the war effort was something that was far more exciting in comparison to school. I had watched all the senior students at college join up. Many would come back in uniform to say goodbye. They saw it as their duty to defend king and country and it was only natural that I was eager to do my bit as well. I had already witnessed what man was capable of. I’d seen the Japanese at work through the Japanese Sino war and knew that they, as well as the Nazis, needed to be stopped.

I spent the rest of the weekend hoping that Doctor Scobey would agree. It was Sunday morning and I was scheduled to catch the train back to Eltham College at 12 o’clock.

Bill! Could you come here please, called Doctor Scobey from the library.

My heart missed a beat. I reached into my pocket and felt the small wooden Buddha I always carried with me since I’d left China. The feel of its well-worn timber always calmed me. I was given the Buddha by the Chinese cook at our holiday house. Chen cared and protected me from the Japanese when I was separated from my family. I can recall every bit of his face and all of his mannerisms; while being a master broadswordsman, he was a wise, gentle and caring man. The last time I saw him was just after he’d been shot by a Japanese soldier when we were trying to make our way to Shanghai and back to my family in England. He wasn’t able to continue, and I’d left him to heal in an old barn we’d taken shelter in. Amah and I completed the journey to Shanghai alone.

He had given me the small wooden Buddha as a reminder of him and for it to be a source of comfort and guidance when I most needed it. I have kept it close by since then and it has helped me deal with the trauma I suffered during the Japanese Sino War. It has been this and Chen’s words of wisdom that have remained with me on my return to England, being a source of continual comfort as Chen had predicted.

Yes, Doctor Scobey, I replied.

Please sit, Bill, he said as he pointed to a chair opposite him. He cleared his throat and stared at me before he continued. As I promised, I have considered your request. It is not an easy decision, made even more difficult by the lack of contact with your parents. Nevertheless, I’ve given your request a great deal of thought and believe that the Navy may just be the thing you need. Therefore, I have decided that I will give my permission. But you must promise me that you will do your very best and graduate near the top of the class. Do we have an agreement? he asked.

I couldn’t contain my excitement. Oh yes. I promise, I replied as I jumped to my feet and grabbed his hand, shaking it briskly and saying, thank you so much! I won’t let you down.

I will write to your parents to let them know. Perhaps it will get through to them, he said.

After successfully convincing Doctor Scobey of the merit of joining the war effort, I returned to boarding school full of excitement and anticipation. I imagined myself as Lord Nelson sailing the seven seas. I sat the entrance exam for the School of Navigation and four weeks later received notification that I had been accepted. I obtained written permission from Doctor Scobey, accompanied by a lecture on the perils and temptations of sea life. I had to solemnly promise that I would resist the temptations of drink and women before he would sign the forms.

A few weeks later I boarded a train to London to be fitted for my uniforms. I was so excited that I could hardly sit still in my seat. I was peering out the window at the passing scenery, imagining what it would be like aboard the ship. I was deep in thought when a row of destroyed homes came into view, jolting me back to reality. The scene of destruction, the result of the German blitz on London brought back disturbing memories of our life in Shanghai. The death and destruction I had witnessed still haunted me. I plunged my hand into my pocket and instinctively felt for the wooden Buddha. I could feel my anger rise recalling the wanton destruction of life and property. I still struggled with accepting mankind’s capacity to be so cruel, but I knew that there was only one way of stopping the Nazis and Japs, and I would do my bit to defeat them.

Several months later, all my equipment arrived in a large wooden sea chest, wrapped with steel corner bands and brass locks. It was like Christmas. The other boys at college were envious, I enjoyed the additional attention and for the first time in my life I felt special.

The day had arrived for my departure. I said my farewells to my mates and Doctor Scobey and boarded a train to Southampton for my 12 months of training. Doctor Scobey never did receive a reply from Father, and we assumed that my parents had no idea of what I was about to embark upon.

Full of excitement, my stomach churned as the train pulled into Southampton Station. I eagerly waited on the platform with four other new cadets for a senior cadet to meet us. Each of us had our sea chest and other luggage. There was an awkward silence between us; all of us eyeing each other off, unsure what to do next. We were all about the same age and I felt reassured by the fact that the others appeared as uncertain as I was. I’m sure we all looked like startled rabbits caught in the headlights. Eventually from around the corner of the station, a confident and serious looking uniformed cadet pusrposely marched towards us.

Come on boys, grab your kit and follow me. I’m Senior Cadet Fuller, he barked at us.

We loaded our trunks onto trolleys, followed him out of the station and into the car park where a bus was waiting for us. We stowed our gear and boarded, each of us taking our own seat, not ready to share our space just yet.

Come on boys, no need to be shy. Move to the front of the bus. Two to a seat. Move, barked Senior Cadet Fuller.

We all reluctantly moved from our chosen seats and shuffled to the front.

My name is Simon. What’s yours? asked the cadet seated next to me.

Hello! I’m Bill, I replied.

I wanted to join up with the Royal Navy (RN) but failed the entrance test so this is the next best thing. It should be fun, although I’m not too fond of the haircut, Simon said as he ran his fingers over his jet-black hair.

I know what you mean. It feels a little breezy on top. I’m too young to join the RN but I could get into here. So here I am. What school are you from? I asked.

I went to Watford Grammar. How about you? Simon replied.

I was a boarder at Eltham College. My father is a missionary in China, I added. I felt I had to explain why I went to Eltham as it wasn’t known as a school for sons of missionaries.

Our conversation was interrupted by the bus coming to a screeching halt. I peered out of the window; we’d stopped outside a very old, grand manor house in the Queen Anne style of architecture. Near the entrance was a sign which read ‘South Stoneham House, Cadet Block’. The red brick building had three storeys, and was surrounded by immaculately manicured lawns overlooking the river Solent; it would’nt have looked out of place to find a member of the Royal family sauntering around the grounds.

Off the bus boys! Grab your kit and line up outside, Senior Cadet Fuller bellowed at us.

We shuffled off the bus and after collecting our trunks lined up facing the house and a very stern Naval Officer.

I’m Chief Petty Officer Walker. When I call out your name you will answer ‘Yes Chief Petty Officer’, he barked out.

As he proceeded to call out our names we all responded loudly with, Yes Chief Petty Officer. We were then allocated to a Senior Cadet who escorted us to our assigned rooms.

Simon and I were assigned to Senior Cadet Fuller.

We were shown to our rooms which were small but comfortable enough. Each contained three double bunks which housed six cadets. Each cadet was allocated a foot locker and wardrobe. I, along with five other junior cadets, waited in our room, aimlessly mingling, unsure what we should do next. It felt like the first day at boarding school.

Senior Cadet Fuller walked in so sure of himself and full of bravado while we on the other hand were all at sea.

Right boys! I need to get you squared away by tomorrow morning on how to wear your uniform and identify ranks. Get all your uniforms out and lay them out on your bunks. Hurry up, we haven’t got all night, he yelled.

Do we salute? Simon asked.

We don’t salute in the merchant navy, but you are the lowest of the lowest. As far as you’re concerned, you show respect to anybody in uniform, Cadet Fuller replied rather roughly.

We immediately snapped into action and spent the evening sorting out each uniform of which there were several. A stepping out uniform with brass buttons and shoulder flashes, cotton blues for everyday wear, patrol jacket and trousers, boiler suit and PT gear. We were at it until 12.30 and I was feeling overwhelmed, the unfamiliar types of uniforms and ranks became a blur by the time we’d finished for the night.

By lights out I started to think that I had dropped myself well and truly into it.

Rise and shine! Up and at it, you lazy sods, Senior Cadet Fuller yelled as he barged into our room turning the lights on, jolting us from our sleep.

It was 5.30 in the morning and still dark. I could hear the moans of protest from the other cadets as we crawled out of our bunks. I sat on the edge of mine rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

Beds made and into your PT gear. Be out at the front of the building in ten minutes, MOVE! he yelled.

We had practiced hospital corners on our beds the previous night, and the proof of a well-made bed was being able to bounce a penny on the cover and catch it. We were all struggling in getting our beds perfect, but thought I’d made a fair go at it.

Since my return from Shanghai, I’d gotten into a routine of placing my wooden Buddha under my pillow at night, in an attempt to keep the nightmares away. I couldn’t do that here as I didn’t want to attract any unwelcomed attention, and run the risk of being ridiculed by the other cadets. Instead, I had placed it in my foot locker and looked at it before going to bed each night, and again first thing in the morning. I hoped that knowing it was close to me would be enough to stop the nightmares which would disturb the other cadets, alerting them to my weakness.

I dressed into PT gear and rushed out into the corridor, and jostled my way towards the front of the building with 25 other cadets. There was pushing and shoving as none of us wanted to be last in line. To my relief, I made it outside well ahead of the last cadet. We all looked fresh and wet behind the ears in our new pristine PT kit of white shirt, black shorts, white socks and white shoes, lined up like ducks in a shooting gallery.

Petty Officer Walker and three Senior Cadets were waiting for us.

Who was last? Petty Officer Walker bellowed.

A short, scrawny, timid cadet replied, Er, um……Me, um, I was, Petty Officer.

Down and give me 20 pushups, came the stern instruction.

We all watched as the poor cadet struggled to do five pushups let alone complete 20. With a huge effort, and screaming encouragement from Petty Officer Walker he eventually finished the last one and then collapsed exhausted. He lay sprawled out on his stomach sucking in air as though it was his last breath.

Don’t be last, or you’ll get more of the same, Petty Officer Walker yelled addressing all of us, and then addressing the poor cadet laying on the ground bellowed, On your feet, Cadet!

Poor Cadet Jones got to his feet, and then looked sheepishly back at us; I was glad it wasn’t me and promised myself from here on in I wouldn’t be last for anything.

Form two lines. Come on gentleman, we haven’t got all day. Move it! Petty Officer Walker barked out.

No one wanted to be the first to move, then finally one brave cadet jostled into position with the rest us of clumsily falling in behind him.

Come on lads. You look like a herd of lost sheep. On your backs. Flat as you can. No talking. On the ground, DOWN! he ordered.

Taking us by surprise, we stood there stunned and rooted to the spot.

Are you lot fresh from nursery school? Can’t you understand the King’s English? Move it! I said on your backs gentlemen, or should I say ‘runts’, Petty Officer Walker yelled.

We all immediately dropped at his command and lay flat on the ground looking up at the sky wondering what this was all about.

I could see that being constantly yelled at would be something I needed to get used to.

This is good for your backs gentlemen. Cadets need a stiff, straight back. You never slouch. Feel the rocks under your back. Push down hard until it hurts and then hold it. Stop your smiling. This isn’t play time. God help me, I’ll make officers of you yet, Petty Officer Walker yelled as he patrolled up and down the line.

He continued to yell abuse at us for a further 20 minutes. By now my back ached and the cheeks of my backside were numb.

Up on your feet, he barked. Staying in two lines, follow me, double time. Left, right, left.

We broke out in a jog. All of us struggling to stay in step. By the end of the 30-minute run, and constant harassment of the Senior Cadets and Petty Officer Walker we had just about got it.

Over the first week, each morning was the same followed by class room work, marching practice, and gas mask drills; all accompanied by someone continually barking orders at us. We were issued webbing, helmet and 303 caliber Le Enfeild Rifles. At first I thought this very strange; after all we were in the Navy not the Infantry. We were informed, that while we were under training we also formed part of the home guard, and therefore would be required to be fully kitted up to join patrols off the coast looking for downed German pilots.It was like being back at the start of school. The Senior Cadets worked with us after class, teaching us how to recognise different ranks, how to march and how to stand to attention even how to eat like a gentleman.

We marched double time everywhere we went. A junior cadet would be appointed the roster cadet for the day and be responsible for keeping time. If we were caught marching out of time or slacking off, the roster cadet would get extra duties as punishment.

We were confined to barracks for the first four weeks, waking at 5.30 in the morning and working through to 11.30 at night, seven days a week always under the watchful eye of instructors and senior cadets. There wasn’t a moment when we weren’t being yelled at, being told what to do, and when and how to do it.

The first term covered elementary navigation, seamanship, astronomy, mathematics trigonometry and similar subjects interspersed with basic military training. What I liked most was practicing on the rifle range and I discovered I was a pretty good shot.

There was no time for anything else. Who’d have thought that my time with Chen as a child would be of such a benefit to me during this time of intense training. He would have me up early and working on his farm all day until last light only stopping for short meal breaks, then finally I’d fall into bed exhausted.

The term passed quickly and by second term we were old hands. We were now Senior Cadets and the staff treated us with some respect. We knew the drill and in addition to our classroom studies, we learnt basic sailing on 14 foot sailing boats and Jujitsu, which I took to like a duck to water; I was the best in my class.

Each month we were assigned to a unit of the home guard; we would go out on patrol looking for downed airmen. It was very exciting. We were fully kitted up, rifles loaded.

Although only 16 years of age, we had the enjoyable experience of being taught the art of drinking like gentlemen. We were required to frequent three of the local pubs. It was necessary for us to learn how to behave like an ‘Officer and a Gentleman.’ We would be observed by a Captain to ensure that we showed the appropriate restraint. This was easier said than done and on more than one occasion a cadet drank more than what was good for him.

Summer had come and on one particularly warm day we were given the task of building a jetty for the newly acquired 24-foot sailing boat. Simon and I, along with two other cadets were hard at it.

Bill! Grab that hammer for me, will you? asked Simon.

Sure thing. It’s bloody hot out here. It must be nearly lunch time. I wouldn’t mind a break, I replied lifting my arms above my head giving my back a good stretch.

Come on gentlemen, no slacking off! Ten more minutes before the lunch break, make the most of them! Petty Officer Walker yelled.

I wondered if Petty Officer Walker ever talked normally, I had only heard him bellow.

Can’t wait, Simon replied.

We’ll nail this last plank in and take a break, I added.

We got the last plank in place and stood giving our backs a good stretch. Our shirts were soaked in sweat and our eyes stung.

Ok Gentlemen, time for lunch! There’s a hot box over there. Help yourselves. I’ll be back later in the afternoon to see how you’ve progressed, Petty Officer Walker said.

He stood and made his way inside to enjoy his lunch in the shelter of the mess out of the hot sun while we remained exposed, out in the heat of the day.

We were seated on the jetty eating bangers and mash. It tasted just as bad as my Aunt Mabel’s. The mash was lumpy and the sausages full of gristle. I ate it anyway; I was too hungry not to.

What do you reckon we take one of the boats out for a quick sail? Simon suggested.

Sounds like a good idea, I replied enthusiastically.

The four of us got into the boat and sailed out on the Solent River. We felt the welcomed drop in temperature once on the water.

The water looks fantastic, I wouldn’t mind a swim. We can drop anchor here and jump in. There’s nobody around, Simon suggested splashing water in our direction.

We all enthusiastically agreed, dropped anchor without hesitation, stripped and plunged naked into the water. It felt cool and refreshing and mischieveous too, just like with my Chinese friend Jay and the time we swam naked in the river near his home. Jay lived next door to Chen’s farm and we became the best of friends during my stay there. He was a great companion when I most needed it. He was cheeky, but loveable. We had great fun together and I would never forget him.

Look over there, Simon yelled. He was pointing to a row boat. They’re girls! he yelled out.

The boat was full of school girls having a sailing lesson.

What are we going to do? I replied.

We can’t get out. We’ll have to stay in the water until they leave, Simon said.

We all laughed. I was sure that they could see below the surface of the water.

I waved at them. They waved back laughing and giggling.

They know we have no clothes on. See! They’re standing up to get a better look, I said.

Go away! Simon and the other boys yelled back waving them away.

Thankfully, they didn’t get any closer. Once they were out of sight we were able to get back into the boat, dressed and sailed back to shore.

We were falling over ourselves in laughter and suddenly stopped when we saw Petty Officer Walker standing on the jetty looking very stern.

We’re in for it. Petty Officer Walker would have seen it all, I said.

Oh bugger, Simon replied.

We pulled up alongside the pier and tied off. There was no doubt from the look on Petty Officer Walker’s face that we were in a world of trouble.

Line up Gentlemen and I use that term loosely, Petty Officer Walker snarled at us.

We lined up in front of him, standing to attention and unflinchingly looking directly forward. The joy we had just experienced quickly became a distant memory, replaced with a sense of dread and foreboding.

Is this the way that Officers of the Merchant Navy behave? he menancingly asked.

None of us were brave enough to reply.

I can’t hear you! he yelled cupping his hand to his ear.

No Petty officer! we all replied in unison.

No, it is not! You’re to get into full kit, helmet and webbing, and be back here in ten minutes. You are going to learn what it means to be an Officer and a Gentleman. Go! He yelled.

The four of us ran as fast as we could back to our rooms. It was a mad rush to get kitted out and back in time. There was no way that we would risk being late.

We made it back just in time ensuring that we lined up in front of him together, so no one was last, dressed in boots, webbing and helmets.

Petty Officer Walker was looking at his watch, timing us as we scrambled into formation.

Ten seconds to spare, he said glaring at us. Given that you enjoy the water so much, you are going to spend the rest of the day and the night if necessary, standing at attention waste deep in it. I don’t want to hear a sound. This will be a day for you to remember what its like to be an officer in the Merchant Navy. Left turn. Quick march, he ordered.

We