Ron

I had an email a day or so back from one of the ISIS pollsters. He said that his partner had died, and he no longer had it in him to do any survey stuff.

This was really bad news, because he was one of the best. He hit the streets running back in June, and had got 40 completed questionnaires before I’d even printed off my first one. He’d been an inspiration. Because I thought that if he could do it, then I could do it too.

I didn’t know what to write back and say. There have been very few deaths in my life that have hit me hard. The death of Cat was one. And a few others. Those deaths had consequences in my life. What do you say? I don’t know. In the end I expressed my condolences, and asked him to mail me the completed questionnaires he’s got. Because we need them.

And today I remembered Ron.

I met Ron one day in the River. He was sitting on a stool at the bar when I went up to buy myself another beer, and we got talking. I was about 55 back then, and he was about 75. I liked him instantly. And after that we talked a lot. It was back in the days before the smoking ban, when the bars were still friendly places. He came from Southend. Or Sarfend, as he called it.

Somebody told me one day that Ron was not well thought of. A few years earlier his wife had died, and he’d used to come to the pub, and burst into tears in front of everyone. And he did it over and over again. And this was, I was also told, very bad form. I was told that, when you go to a pub, you have to leave all that sort of baggage behind you. They were probably the same people who told me once that there were some things that shouldn’t be talked about in pubs. Politics was one of them. Religion was another. I can’t remember what the third one was. So WTF can you talk about in a pub? The weather? Maybe even that was off limits. Stiff upper lip, and all that. It reminded me of an article by Ian Hislop about how British stoicism was comparatively new, and it was the French who used to have all the sang-froid.

I never saw Ron burst into tears myself. He was one of the cheeriest people I met in the River. And I had a hard time even imagining him bursting into tears. But I didn’t think less of him for crying over his dead wife. I’m sure that I’d have wept too. After all, if I could shed tears over a dead cat, I’d have surely wept buckets over a dead wife.

Ron was usually good fun, but one day he got very serious. “You people,” he said to me, looking me right in the eye. “People of your age. They haven’t got any fight in them. They haven’t got what it takes. They’ll just let people walk all over them, trample all over them.”

I didn’t agree. I said that people of my age had never faced any terrible threat like his generation had. There wasn’t anything much that needed to be fought. So why should we need to have any fight in us? And I added that, if any such terrible threat emerged, we’d fight just as hard as his generation had.

Ron just shook his head.

“Nah,” he said, derisively. “They haven’t got it in ‘em. They just haven’t got it in ‘em.”

And if anyone would know something like that, it would have been Ron. Because Ron had been a submariner during the war. He’d operated the boat’s hydrophones, which is what are used to listen underwater.

Unlike most servicemen I’ve encountered, Ron talked very easily about his wartime experiences. He said that on his boat, the crew worshipped their captain. He’d led them through many dark and difficult experiences, and they had complete faith in him.

I think anyone who climbs into a little steel hull, and sinks hundreds of feet underwater inside it, is a hero. I think anyone who climbs into a airplane and flies one is a hero, particularly if it’s armed with machine guns. And I think anyone who drives a tank is a hero too. Because I don’t think I could do it. And maybe that’s what Ron could see.

I got talking to a Navy veteran of the Falklands conflict a while back, who’d been on one of the Royal Navy ships that had been hit by an Exocet missile. People who’d been standing 25 feet away from him had been killed. And I told him that I wouldn’t be brave enough to do something like that. And he replied that it wasn’t courage, but training. People had been trained to do a job, and they just did it. It was just what happened when you had a well-drilled crew. But I still think it takes courage to do that.

One day Ron’s submarine did something that no other submarine had ever done: it torpedoed a U-boat underwater. It was in the North Sea, just off Norway, towards the end of the war. They’d been tipped off about this particular U-boat, and they’d lain in wait for it for days, submerged most of the time. And then one day they heard the sound of its engines. It would have been Ron who heard those engines, of course. And because they were electric motors, they must have been very quiet. So I guess that what he heard was the sound of the propeller of the submerged U-boat, creeping northward underwater.

They followed it for a long time, both of them underwater, until the captain of Ron’s submarine managed to get into a position where he could fire some torpedoes. They fired about 6 torpedoes. And one of them hit the U-boat, and it sank. How on earth the captain managed to do that, I don’t know. How did they know how far below the surface the U-boat was?

“They were submariners on that U-boat, just like us,” Ron told me. “We knew what it was like for them. We felt for them. But we were at war.”

It’s a famous incident, not just because of the underwater torpedoes, but because the U-boat was actually carrying heavy water needed for atomic weapons to Japan, and a few scientists as well. And there have been fears in recent years that, as the sunken U-boat corrodes, it’ll start leaking out. So I think that they’ve been trying to bury it under concrete.

But as far as I was concerned, Ron was a hero. And yet, this heroic man had kept bursting into tears in the pub after his wife had died. Which isn’t exactly heroic, I suppose. It had brought strong disapproval.

Ron lived alone in a little village in Devon, and he didn’t have enough money to keep his home heating on all the time. And one day, in the depths of winter, when he hadn’t come to the pub like he usually did for a couple of days, people in the pub got worried, and went looking for him. That’s what pub communities used to be all about. They found him dead in his bed.

I think Ron could see what was coming much better than I could. I think he could see the gathering storm. After all, he’d lived through one. And perhaps he could see the signs that I couldn’t see. I was half asleep back then.

Because the Nazis are back. Only this time they’re not Germans. And they wear suits rather than uniforms. And they’re armed with lies rather than tanks. And they’re everywhere.

I still wonder whether Ron was right about my generation. If he was here now, I think I’d still disagree. I don’t think human nature changes much, or even at all, from generation to generation. I think everybody’s capable of fighting. But they’ll only do it when they have to.

But maybe Ron was right.

About these ads

About Frank Davis

smoker
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

7 Responses to Ron

  1. Touching post, Frank. Do we have it in us? I often think we’ve never really been tested, but the day may come.

  2. margo says:

    Very sorry for the man whose partner’s died. I hope he sends the questionnaires but I understand that everything might seem too much just now.
    I’ve had lots of experience with grief, ever such a lot (cat and a friend last year) and it never gets any easier.
    Our generation – maybe what we’ve got is the guts to say ‘No, we’re not fighting your wars just because you tell us to’? Personally, I think that’s what we need.

  3. c777 says:

    The battle…
    http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/German_submarine_U-864
    The U-864 crew.
    http://www.ubootwaffe.net/crews/crews.cgi?uquery=1;boatnum=864
    Interesting reading ,a few of the Uboat crew had served on the Graff Spee and Scharnhorst previous to this battle on that date, these two men must already have been survivors of previous engagements.
    That’s courage, going back for more like that, even if they were posted..
    The UK is in no strategic position to fight another global conflict we no longer have the necessary industries required ,shipyards,steel works,aluminium smelters.
    Anyone who thinks that a global conflict is no longer possible is probably going to be proved wrong.
    WW1 the war to end all wars eh?
    China Japan at loggerheads ,the invasion of China by Japan in the 1930′s was among the first major action of WW2, tensions in the middle east,tensions on the Korean peninsular.
    And the idiots running the country are trying to sell off BAE to ,China not to mention the scrapping of heavy industry to placate global warming schisters, ,ha ha ha, we have no chance with the traitorous scum and congenital idiots we endure for a government now.
    On the years precursing WW2 there where many commentators warning of the coming storm but most comforted themselves in the misplaced notion it could never happen again eh?

    Puts down coffee, lights rollup ,well that’s my pennies worth!

    • Frank Davis says:

      Thanks a lot for that. And it seems that Ron had a key role, because they’d switched off their ASDIC and were relying only on the hydrophone operator.

      Venturer’s hydrophone operator noticed a strange sound which he could not identify. He at first thought that it sounded as though some local fisherman had started up a boat’s diesel engine.[2] Launders decided to track the strange noise. Then, due to poor adherence to proper periscope usage protocol on the part of the German crew, the officer of the watch on Venturer’s periscope noticed another periscope poking up above the surface of the water.[2] Combined with the hydrophone reports of the strange noise, which he determined to be coming from a submerged vessel, Launders surmised that they had found U-864.[2]
      Launders tracked U-864 by hydrophone (in itself a difficult feat), hoping it would surface and allow a clear shot. However, U-864 detected the presence of the British submarine and remained submerged and started to zig-zag. This made U-864 quite safe according to the assumptions of the time.

      I got some of the details wrong. The U boat wasn’t carrying heavy water, but mercury. And 4 torpedoes were fired, not 6.

  4. smokervoter says:

    I think Ron has it right. Our generation is pretty much gutless. What gets them fighting mad are non-existent combatants such as smokers and stout people. They prefer to fight silly intellectual wars with businesses that are trying to keep the lights on and the cars running. They strike out at imaginary GM food villains and airplanes supposedly spewing chemtrails. They’re scared to death of hamburgers and soft drinks. Not much of a real fight going on there. The exception to the fact are the brave men and women in the armed forces, 35% of whom smoke I might add.

    One of the few fighting voices I hear is Alex Jones, but it turns out he’s just another yuppie anti-smoker. When the story broke the other day on the Drudge Report of the outrageous WHO proposal to tax cigarettes at 70% I decided to tune him in that night, expecting to hear genuine outrage against tyranny and the New World Order, and there wasn’t one word out of him. I did hear him say that he and his wife have been shopping at Whole Foods in Austin, Texas for the past 10 years. Some street fighting man. Sorry, but men who shop at Whole Foods are not my idea of real tough guys.

    On his infowars or prisonplanet website that finally picked up the story there was a measly 13 comments, mainly from jelly-spined, apologetic smokers publicly wishing they could quit. Not one simply said, hey you’ve got a lot of nerve, I bloody well smoke and will fight you to the bitter end

    It is the lack of pushback anger from our generation that empowers these real enemies of the people; the legislators, the doctors, and the faux-toughie professors who dare tell us how we will pursue life, liberty and our personal ideal of happiness.

  5. Robert the Biker says:

    I suppose when you hit a submerged submarine, what you technically do is sink it a bit more! Oops, innappropriate humour alert,fire up the black helicopters and the men in the cheap suits!.
    My Dad was likewise in the Navy on MGBs, I often wonder if the policy wonks and antis (of whatever form) would have tried their crap on if that generation had been young instead of old.

  6. Pingback: Living A Lie | Frank Davis

No need to log in

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s