Twentieth Century Men E-Book

Richard Wilson

• Herausgeber: novum pro Verlag
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 483

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

Twentieth Century Men is a family saga that traces the lives of the Wilson family starting in 1888 and continuing through three generations of Wilsons until 2006. It describes how the men survived two World Wars in which they served their country gallantly and how they prospered in business as well as excelling in sporting activities. Dick, the eldest son, was involved in actions taken to quell the Mau Mau uprising in Kenya where he participated in the vital intelligence work that led to the early capture of the main instigators. He was also involved in organising the visit of the Queen Mother before continuing his service in Borneo, Zambia and South Africa.

Leseprobe

Contents

Imprint

Dedication

Disclaimer

Part 1-Leonard6

Chapter One

India 7

Chapter Two

Muriel 23

Chapter Three

1924–1940 35

Part 2-Leonard and Dick52

Chapter Four

The Second World War 53

Chapter Five

1945–6 Malaya 80

Chapter Six

England and Demobilisation 96

Chapter Seven

Kenya – Early days – District officer 101

chapter Eight

Kenya – Emergency 121

Chapter Nine

Kenya – Government House 141

Chapter Ten

Wind of Change 155

Chapter Eleven

Borneo and Back 179

Chapter Twelve

Central Africa 197

Chapter Thirteen

Southern Africa 230

Chapter Fourteen

England – Final Years 271

Sourcesof Background Information

Imprint

All rights of distribution, also through movies, radio and television, photomechanical reproduction, sound carrier, electronic medium and reprinting in excerpts are reserved.

© 2022 novum publishing

ISBN print edition:978-3-99107-612-4

ISBN e-book: 978-3-99107-613-1

Editor:Hugo Chandler, BA

Cover images:Hyotographics, Anna Artamonova, Lalam Mandavkar, Joe Sohm, Alptraum | Dreamstime.com

Cover design, layout & typesetting:novum publishing

Images:Richard Wilson

www.novum-publishing.co.uk

Dedication

This book is dedicated

to my sons

Strahan, Christopher.

Nicholas and James.

Disclaimer

The contents of this book have been sourced mainly from correspondence between Leonard Wilson on the one hand and various others including his father, his son, Dick, Dick’s guardian Miss Cooper, Dick’s wife Dorothy, and various papers in the possession of Leonard and Dick which were passed down to me at the time of their respective deaths. These have been supplemented by a selection of documents in the public domain and excerpts from a selection of books. Reference to these books and their authors, and my gratitude, therefore, is noted in the addendum.

Copyright © 2021 Richard Wilson

First Printing Edition, 2021

Part 1

Leonard

Chapter One

India

In 1888 Liverpool was a thriving port city with a population of about 600,000 and a rapidly growing trade through its port, based largely on the import of raw cotton, dead meat, corn and cereals, and the export of cotton goods and iron and steel products. George Richard Wilson, born at 2 Rose Hill, Liverpool in July 1852 later lived at 98 Whetstone Lane, Tranmere in the Wirral with his wife Louisa, born in Macclesfield, and their three children, Louisa (born 1880), Arthur (born 1884) and Elsie (born 1885).

In 1888, Leonard was born at a house in Whetstone Lane, on 12 March and he was later followed by Frank (born 1891) and Alexander. Their father, George, was the manager of a fruit broking business, a business which was to occupy him for many years to come.

This was a fairly typical, moderately wealthy, Victorian family of the time, in the world of traders and businessmen. There was a long-term expectation that the girls would all meet and marry eligible and moderately wealthy men, and that the boys would all find work in industry or the financial sector. The advent of the first world war was to dramatically alter all their expectations.

In the short term however, trade continued to be satisfactory for George Wilson’s business of fruit trading and he was able to afford the private schooling and sporting facilities available at the nearby Birkenhead School that had been founded in 1860, which was close to where the family lived in Birkenhead. Leonard, and shortly afterwards Frank, were both sent to the school where they enjoyed successful careers, both in the classroom and on the playing field. Leonard’s collection of leather-bound book prizes included the Modern 5th Form Prize, in 1903, signed by the Headmaster, G. Griffen and entitled “Napoleon”, and the Form II, First in Form Prize at the Birkenhead Institute, at Christmas 1906, signed by the Headmaster W.S. Connachie, who founded the Institute and was its first Headmaster. The book was entitled “The Life of Nelson”.

Sport, for Leonard, was an important part of his life, both at school, and subsequently when he was at Liverpool University. He enjoyed all sports but particularly rugby union, at which sport he played for Birkenhead Park and Cheshire. At Liverpool University he studied for, and earned, his Bachelor of Engineering (BEng) degree, and on completion, he applied for and was given employment with Marsland Price and Company, initially on a large project in Bombay India, which involved travelling to India at the earliest opportunity as the project had already commenced.

After a series of farewells to his family and friends in Cheshire, including some golf at the Wirral with his friends the Smethursts, whose daughter Muriel had caught his eye, it was time for Leonard to make his way to London to catch the SS Oceana bound for Bombay, under Captain J.D. Andrews RHR. These P and O (Peninsular and Orient) sailings were already beginning to earn the description of “the fishing fleet” as single daughters were sent out to India to find husbands. The “list of passengers” for Leonard’s trip showed that there were a total of 243 passengers on board (plus infants and maids), of which 82 were single men (including Leonard), 35 were single women and there were a further 22 married women who were travelling alone. Between leaving London on Wednesday 2 November and the arrival in Bombay approximately three weeks later, there was much social activity on board ship.

In Bombay he joined up with his employer, Marsland Price and Company, where he was an Assistant Engineer under Mr Price, working on a project for The Standard Oil Company of New York. The project involved “The erection of factory – storage sheds, Managers Bungalows and extensive enclosure walling costing between two and three lakhs of Rupees … on their new Buick Oil Installation Works.” Interesting though the project was, Leonard sought longer-term work and as the project reached its conclusion, he was given a strong reference from the Attorney at the Standard Oil Company, which confirmed that Leonard “took charge of the work at the most critical stage and I am glad to say he brought everything to completion most satisfactorily. He has good organising ability and is a capable engineer.” It had also been a good opportunity for Leonard to settle into life in Bombay, while starting to learn the local language.

In the short period between leaving Marsland Price and Company in March 1912 and starting work with the GI & PR (Great and Peninsular Railway), Leonard continued to stay at the Villa Ghita in Bombay and spent a few days getting to know this bustling city. He also needed time to buy the furniture necessary for his unfurnished bungalow in Kalyan. A visit to Alabur Sonji Dossa at 5–7 Chuckla Street enabled him to acquire, for a total of R157/- (£ 11.80), a good starting pack, the main elements being:

Rs

Dressing table with glass attached

25.0

Easy chair

15.0

Dresser with two drawers

15.0

Commode with pan

5.0

2 armchairs

14.0

2 camp tables

16.0

Towel stand

3.0

Writing table

15.0

Bathtub

8.0

Washing stand

3.0

Cupboard

30.0

Other

11.0

160

Less

3

Rs

157

Plus, Coolie Hire

2

Writing to his friend Muriel in England, Leonard noted that the weather was already getting very hot, particularly up country at Kalyan, prior to which he was going to treat himself to “dining at the Taj Mahal Hotel here in Bombay, and as the mail has just arrived there will be many fresh people there … and a dance. PS I have become an expert digger driver.”

Shortly afterwards, on 24 April 1911, Leonard joined the GI & PR Railway as an Assistant Engineer, just after his twenty-fourth birthday, at the “Kalyan Remodelling Works”.

The Great Indian Peninsula Railway Company was incorporated in London on 2 August 1849 with an initial share capital of £ 50,000. Later that month, the Company entered into a contract to build a thirty-five-mile railway line, the first stage of which was between Bombay and Thaka. This line, built for the East India Company which at that stage administered the country on behalf of Britain, under the Government of India Act, was the first passenger railway line to be built in India. The management of the GI & PR was taken over by the government in July 1925 and ultimately, the business was incorporated into the Central Railway in 1951.

Leonard’s starting salary on this Kalyan project was Rs400 (£ 30.00) per month, including free accommodation in his small, unfurnished bungalow. Writing to Muriel from this bungalow, he noted on 12 May that: “I have a splendid job and hold a most responsible position, working from seven a.m. to seven p.m. with an occasional Sunday off (going into Bombay to see my old friends there).” He was keen to maintain his personal discipline despite the solitude, saying, “I always dress for dinner, just to pretend I am still in civilisation.” Six weeks later, writing on a Friday he noted that it was “English mail day and the home letters arrive here and are read and re-read with much interest.” But the sense of loneliness was increasing. “After dinner I lie on a long chair on the verandah very close to a long drink and watch the moonshine on the Palace and listen to the pie dogs howling as they do here all night long. Also, I can hear the monotonous chanting of the natives in camp in the neighbourhood of my bungalow.” The weather was extremely hot and not due to break for another week or two. It was all a real challenge, and so different from life in the Wirral.

At work, he was now an Assistant Engineer on the Kalyan Junction Station remodelling project for the GI & PR under Mr F.J. Preston. “Costing about £ 470,000 (1911 value) the project involved heavy earthwork, the construction of a loco shed, up and down receiving and departure lines, and a shunting yard. The work also included the erection of a new passenger station building with platforms and overbridges; twenty-five miles of track we’re laying (sic) and one overbridge for a public road, one 20’ span overbridge carrying two tracks, a 30’ underbridge for the public road; also two stonework arched culverts – across the full width of the yard; also construction of a hospital with one hundred and ten sub-quarters and one hundred and twenty menial quarters with a service road.”

By the end of this happy, if lonely year, Leonard was well settled into a routine of busy weeks, occasional Saturday night dances at the Taj Mahal Hotel in Bombay with friends, writing weekly letters home, tennis at the Recreation Club in Bombay and working to pass the test of proficiency in Hindustani which was the prerequisite of becoming a “Permanent Cadre” employee.

He remained in charge of the Kalyan remodelling scheme throughout 1912 and 1913, until he was granted three months leave as from July 1914 – a massive project for a young man who was still only 27 when he boarded the SS China which left Bombay on Thursday 11 July 1914, bound for London, via Brindisi, Marseilles and Plymouth, arriving on 1 August. This time the passenger list was predominantly male, many of them military.

The England to which he returned was coming to terms with the implications of the assassination of the Archduke Franz Ferdinand of Austria, in Sarajevo, on 28 June. Britain declared war on 4 August, three days after Leonard’s arrival home in the Wirral and the mood in the country was sombre. His holiday was spent almost entirely at home, although he briefly met up with his friend Muriel Smethurst and her parents. During a joint family trip to Chester, Leonard and Muriel “disappeared” and “our respective parents though we were lost.” He saw her again when she “came round for a picture of Frank which was printed in the news. I hear he is a great fine man now – finer than before but I can hardly believe such to be possible. You know I always admire Frank – he is such a splendid man in every way.” They also managed a game of golf together.

He had little opportunity to travel more widely and, because she was anxious about Leonard’s health, his mother encouraged him to stay at home and rest, with his brothers visiting when they were able to. Very soon it seemed to all, he had to return to India, back to the Kalyan project, at a salary of Rs500 but still not a permanent employee of the GI & PR.

In December 1914, he was transferred to Harbour (Bombay Works District No. 1) but his work at the Kalyan Station was such that, throughout his ongoing career in India, and even in retirement he was known to his friends as “Kalyan”. The Superintending Engineer, R.V. Symons; wrote to the GI & PR Chief Engineer, Mr P.E. Keene, that: “Mr Wilson has done a very good work for the Company and is never sparing in his efforts to do his best and to be thorough. He has had no increment since 1 May 1913. The good work done by him deserves special recognition and I have much pleasure in recommending him for an increase”.

As the year ended, Leonard settled into his new job and his new accommodation at 14 Cuffe Parade, Bombay, away from the heat and dust of Kalyan. His mother, writing on 31 December 1914 stated, “This is New Year’s Eve and I hope we shall see a happier ending than the beginning is, and a victorious one with the foes beaten … I do long for you to be well and strong. We have not seen Frank … Arthur went away last Thursday and has not written since.”

Leonard’s father wrote on the same day, noting that: “the uppermost thought in one’s mind is the future of the boys serving their country. We do wish their protection and good fortune in returning to us at the end of the war, safe and sound. Frank is moving to Cambridge … I feel he will be the first to go to the front. The near outlook is far from cheery for an early termination, although the final issue is pretty safe from our point of view now.” And finally, back to business, he noted that: “we are actually to have Jaffa mangoes through growers in Turkey – by undertaking to pay the proceeds to the government till the termination of the war when they will return the money to be given to the shippers.”

As ever, Leonard embraced the challenge of the Bombay Harbour project with all his energy and determination, buoyed by the news that, on 11 July 1914, his request for “Permanent Cadre” in the Grade of Assistant Engineers’ was granted, albeit without any increase in salary which remained at Rs500 per month. The project itself was another large one with “a cost of about £ 500,000. This two-mile extension of double track passed through a densely populated area of Bombay and was carried over five public roads and Wade Sundi goods yard … The work included the lengthening of three public overbridges, the construction of three new stations and an additional island platform under the existing station.”

Being in the centre of Bombay greatly improved his social life which continued to include dances and dinners at the Taj Mahal Hotel, and activities social and sporting, with “my old friends”. That continued until May 1916 when he was transferred to Shahabad, by which time he was in charge of the Bombay section as well as the Harbour section. He began to develop a long-term interest in horses. Writing to his friend Muriel in December 1915 he congratulated her “on being a nurse in these times. Women in all forms of work are showing up well in this war, but one always thinks that as a nurse, a woman does the finest work, …” He also notes that in addition to his usual job, he was “a volunteer in the Bombay Light horse as we are able to do this in the early morning. I have just finished a fortnight in camp; up at 5.30, work till 8.30 then bath, change and come to Bombay for the everyday railway work … I ride every morning now and find the exercise does me much good.” Two days later, he wrote that: “I have joined the Jackal Club and hope to get two days hunting a week. We have a new pack … and hunt from December to March … our substitute for the fox is the jackal. How long it is since I saw you and yet so many things have happened since …”

Two months later he wrote again to Muriel, on 26 February 1916, noting that she had had a three-day holiday in Cairo. On the other hand, he had been out hunting where “my horse came down at a jump … but fortunately did himself no damage. I skinned my face and had to have my chin stitched up, so temporarily spoiling my beauty, but no joints were damaged.”

Leonard’s brother Frank, who he so greatly admired, wrote to him almost weekly, in pencil on a small piece of paper. Inevitably, there was no complaining about conditions in the trenches.

Writing on 17 May 1916 from his trench at First Kings Regiment, BEF, France he wrote that:

“We finish our months tour of trenches in a day or two …”

Writing again on 30 May he wrote that:

“… we are living in an old Hun dug-out – though our one mattress (apologetic and far from clean) causes many sanguinary contests each night; it can just hold two (human beings), so they refuse to let me near it, as there is only room for me alone. After stopping up all the rat holes, there is always a ‘strop’ – one man objecting to having someone else’s feet up against his face or some other absurd triviality. One man woke the rest of us up last night by trying to do for a rat which had burrowed out under his head – shouts for his ejection!”

Both of these letters to Leonard were overtaken by the telegram from his father on 6 June:

“Frank has died for his country” – Wilson

This telegram followed on immediately after the delivery of a telegram to 70 Grosvenor Road, Claughton, Birkenhead where the family now lived.

It was sent from Buckingham Palace, and read:

“The King and Queen deeply regret the loss you and the Army have sustained in the death of Second Lieut. F. Wilson in the service of his country. Their Majesties truly sympathise with you in your sorrow. Keeper of the Privy Purse”.

His school thereafter published the following obituary which was mirrored by a much longer obituary in the local press at home. It read as follows:

“Frank Wilson, third son of George R. Wilson of Birkenhead was killed in action on Vimy Ridge on 3 June 1916. He entered the School in 1902 and left in 1908, being a School Prefect in his last year. He played for Birkenhead Park and Cheshire Football XVs. After leaving school he was with the firm of T  &  J Harrison, Shipowners, until the outbreak of War. In August 1914 he joined the ranks of the 4th Cheshires and after attaining his commission he was drafted out to the Western Front, attached to the 1st King’s Liverpool Regiment. He was ‘mentioned in despatches’ in January 1917.”

His Commanding officer wrote (to his parents):

“I was very grieved at your son’s death and send you some particulars of how it occurred. The Germans exploded a camouflet in which were four miners and men, and your son immediately descended, and was the means of saving all, but at the expense of his own life, being past human aid when brought to the surface. Our medical officer attempted artificial respiration for two and a half hours, but your son was too badly poisoned. I consider your son behaved very gallantly, and I have recommended him for the VC which in my opinion he deserved, and which I hope he will get. His death is a great loss to the regiment: he always did his work particularly well.”

In the event there was no VC, but, after the war ended a certificate was issued from the War Office, Whitehall SW, on 1 March 1919. It read as follows:

“In the War of 1914 – 1918

Liverpool Regiment

Second Lt. F. Wilson, Third Bn (SR) (Killed)

was mentioned in a despatch from General Douglas Haigh GCB, KCIE, KCVO, ADC

dated 13 November 1916

for gallant and distinguished services in the Field

I have it in command from the King to record His Majesty’s

high appreciation of the services rendered.

Winston S. Churchill

Secretary of State for War.”

Frank was buried at the British Cemetery at Cabaret Rouge.

However proud he felt about his younger brother Frank and his courage and bravery, Leonard was devastated by his death. Writing to Muriel on 20 July 1916, by which time he had been transferred to Shahabad, and away from the comfort of Bombay, which he knew so well, he was honest about his emotions. “I admired Frank and loved him, he was a splendid man, mentally and physically and out of his strength he wrote me practically every mail during the past six years; letters of cheer which always did me good, his last letter was dated three days before his death. He died as he lived, for others, and as the good book tells us, this is the greatest thing a man can do.

“I was absolutely unbalanced on hearing of his death … I applied to the Chief Engineer to let me go as I felt unable to stay here any longer … but the Chief replied to say he would not let me go as we are about thirty percent short of staff and can’t reduce further. Before leaving Bombay I had the job of converting our new Bombay offices into a hospital for 500 beds after which I came down here to Shahabad as my work on reconstructing of the overhead line was stopped for want of steelwork from England and we were shorthanded here. Shahabad is three hundred and seventy miles from Bombay and is in the Nizam of Hyderabad’s dominions. I have a section to maintain, a hundred and thirty miles long … I spend about ten to fifteen days per month on the line trolleying one way and travelling by train the other … when in Shahabad the only thing I have to do besides work is horse riding. I have my bay horse here and am keeping the grey in Bombay until I can sell him … to get home in 1918 when I will have some seventeen months of furlough due. Some of the Mohamedans here have an idea that the Germans are Mohamedans and say that if the Germans win the war, it will be good for the Mohamedans in India.”

Leonard was, by now, the Resident Engineer in Shahabad and in addition to his role maintaining the mainline railway he was “also in charge of the one-mile-long diversion of the main line at Shahabad, including reconstruction of the underbridge … 3 x 60ft spans on masonry abutments with concrete below, water and steel above. Also, regarding the bridge over the river, 10 x 70’ spans, 5 x 60’ spans … located and prepared preliminary estimates for 8 new crossing stations.”

In his letter to Muriel dated 10 October, Leonard noted that while trolleying he had now taken to carrying a gun, a Martins.303, in the hope of shooting a game bird to take home, thus far without success. He was having to learn Canarese to speak to the local people in the Deccan, as opposed to Hindustani in Bombay and Kalyan. Above all, he was looking forward to some holiday time as he had only had the three months furlough in 1914, since arriving in India in 1910.

These thoughts of home leave were pushed aside by the news that, on 16 September in France, Muriel’s brother John Smethurst had been killed in action. In his last letter, to his sister Muriel on 11 September, he was proud to note that: “we just woke the old Bosch up a little last week as no doubt you saw in the paper. The GOC Division congratulated and thanked us after Church Parade yesterday … My servant was hit and the one I got in his place was killed too. A fine fellow too.”

John’s friend on the battle front, Fred Canley, wrote that: “we marched to the trenches at dawn on the sixteenth. Dear old ‘Smithers’ (his battalion pet name) was very happy and cheerful, and I think he was looking forward to another scrap, despite the fact that only ten days before he had received a rough time at Guillemont. At about eleven a.m. I received word to send my Company forward, and he took command at the first attacking wave. Despite the heavy rifle, machine gun, and shellfire, he very bravely led his men on, but unfortunately, he never reached his objective, as he was killed by a machine gun bullet midway. He died where he fell, his death being instantaneous. We were compelled to leave him until dark, and a couple of men from his platoon volunteered, and went out to bury him. I have informed his parents how to obtain the spot of his grave.

“He was a man to be proud of and his memory should be proud. I really mean it, and probably I have seen him under circumstances strange to you. He never shirked a job, no matter how dangerous it happened to be, and his constant thought was for the care and welfare of his men, who loved him. I am sure of this as I heard many pathetic things not intended for my ears. I can’t tell you how much I Miss him.

“He has made the greatest sacrifice man can make – he gave up his life, his all.”

Back in the Deccan, Leonard continued to keep himself fit by riding out every morning before work, seven miles most days, with fifteen miles on Sundays. Christmas day in 1916 was spent with his friend Clapham in the jungle looking at the animal and bird life – trying to divert his mind from the sad events of the year. A letter from his mother dated 8 January 1917 brought news of a missionary friend in Nyasaland returning home after two years “as his health is somewhat impaired.”

“Gadzooks,” he responded “I wish my service allowed leave every two years when health is impaired.” That said, “we are having a most unusually severe year of plague and people are dying like flies. The villages are vacated, and the people live in the jungle, plague rats and I suppose other animals are dying in the villages, which are, in consequence stinking badly, and no one goes near to clean the passages or houses. The GIP is sending (or has been asked to do so) a Ry Corps for Ry work to France. I and most engineers applied … The difficulty is to get the coolie labour to volunteer, they are so scared by such news they hear of the war; they would prefer to stay here and die of plague rather than go to France on triple pay.” The plague Leonard refers to was, in fact, the ‘Spanish Flu’ epidemic with “a virus strain subtype H1N1” which is estimated to have killed over 50 million people worldwide, probably spread, at least in part, by troops returning from Europe to their home countries, at the end of the war.

In March, Leonard had to take ten days leave to attend a Bombay Light Horse camp, having sent his horses in advance. Staying at the Royal Bombay Yacht Club he enjoyed the camp, not least of all because the temperature was twelve degrees cooler than the Deccan and he was able to meet up with old friends. This volunteer force was disbanded on 21 March and absorbed into the Indian Defence Company, subject to call up at any time. This force came into being on 1 April.

Shahabad, in June, was “a desert of black mud, a station building and a few bungalows …” The tedious routine of his railway responsibilities was rudely and tragically interrupted by a bad train collision on his section, seventy miles south of Shahabad, in which five people were killed (another four died later) and forty-two injured when the driver ran through a signal at four a.m. in the dark. Rebuilding the line, clearing away damaged railway stock and re-establishing the train service occupied him for many days. He was also working hard on “surveying some days and working others in my drawing office getting out detailed plans and estimates for the eight proposed new stations.” He had also been to Poona “in order to attend the Bombay congress which was held in Poona and for which I had written a paper on Mortar.” He was by now a full private in the 1st Battalion GIP Railway Rifles, Indian Defence Force. When not occupied with these activities he played tennis in the evenings with his local Traffic Officer and two native officials at the Native Club. “I quite like Mohamed Habibuka, the Takundar of Shahabad though I curse him ‘some’ when I have to deal with him officially in such cases as land acquisition. He says he rides and plays tennis and bezique beautifully, but as regards the first he never comes out for a ride … he is rather a weak tennis player and I know nothing of bezique. He tells me he has three wives so he can’t be very well off or he would have several more.”

As 1917 came to an end Leonard was very busy preparing for days of a fete in aid of the Red Cross on the last three Thursdays of the month, and also for “the visit of the Viceroy who breakfasts in Shahabad on the 23rd inst. with some of HM the Nizam’s officials. A camp for this breakfast is being put up on the open ground opposite my bungalow.”

For Leonard, thoughts of home were always present, albeit with few real prospects of this happening in the short term. The problem was that, in his own words, “I think the Chief is glad to find a man who will stick the place without grumbling. Most of our engineers are married and no married couple would stick Shahabad. I wonder how long it will be before we meet again. I suppose not until after the war.” Routinely applying for leave, his requests were invariably refused to his great disappointment, particularly as, in late 1918, his mother’s health was a concern.

The death of his mother in November 1918, although not unexpected, was another blow to Leonard. “This is a great loss to us all. I have never met anyone who lived a more loving and unselfish life than Mother,” he wrote to Muriel. “I had hoped to get home to see Mother once more, but the war had effectively put a stop to all leave, except of course for those who had influence. I have applied for leave from April next for nine weeks.” By way of getting a break from Shahabad he took fourteen days casual leave over Christmas and New Year, “first visiting Bombay and spending five days riding over hunting country with my old friend Pearson whose guest I was. Then I went on to Agra and Delhi and visited all the world-famous buildings there. The Taj Mahal is a marble building, built by King Shah Jahan about two hundred and fifty years ago, as a resting place for his wife after her death. It is said to be the most beautiful building in the world.

“I boast I can stick a lonely life in a station like Shahabad when there are some of the amenities of civilisation, but I confess I enjoyed the luxury of fires, hot baths, good food and company in the best hotel in Delhi” with his old friend Cafferata – “he is a great man, and I found the usual pleasure in his company.”

Back in Shahabad he had an extra two hundred and fifty miles of main line track, to oversee due to Manson, the resident engineer there “having taken home a very sick wife.” Muriel too was extremely busy in England nursing and helping the injured and provided “splendid and continuous war service according to the Christ Church (Claughton) Monthly Paper.”

Leonard’s own health was beginning to suffer from a mixture of a much-increased workload, the lack of rest, and the extreme heat of Shahabad where the day temperature was one hundred and five in the shade, falling to ninety at night. The railway carriage he lived in had no air conditioning other than open windows. “I’m afraid I am not anything like as strong as I was,” he wrote. In July he “had an attack of dysentery which had left me absurdly weak, and the Railway had realised that a live Engineer on leave is more useful than a dead one in India.”

Planning to get away in August, he had to dispose of his horses and his two hunting dogs and put his furniture in storage before he could set sail. He was further concerned about his finances, given that his most recent salary increase on 14 August 1919 took him to Rs700 per month, but with depreciation compared with the pound and significant inflation in England, this was going to mean that he would not be able to afford a motor vehicle and may have to live at home if there was any space. Home by now was no longer in the spacious house in Birkenhead, but in Llandudno, his father having retired from his fruit trading business. On the other hand, with Leonard’s mother having passed away, his beloved brother Frank dead, another brother Arthur “put away in a home in Llandudno” and Alec in Germany, there could be a space in the house he had yet to see. He also needed to book his berth on a P & O liner to London or “with Anchor or City which I believe land one in Liverpool.”

On his return to Bombay on 15 August, Leonard stayed at Villa Ghita with his friend Person while booking his passage home to Marseille and then across France to London, hoping to arrive in London on or about 10 September. “Order some decent weather please, not too cold,” he wrote to Muriel. On arrival in Llandudno, he wrote to Muriel on 15 September having played golf with his father that morning. “Please think and fix up what we should do on Thursday, just anything you like will suit me. I am wondering whether you and I will find each other changed much and hope not.”

Things were to happen very quickly thereafter.

Chapter Two

Muriel

Writing to Muriel from his family’s new house at Albert Drive, Llandudno Junction, on the day of his arrival on 12 September 1919, Leonard sought to meet up with her as soon as possible. He noted that he was “most distressed to see the conditions” of his brother Arthur. In the event, his letter had crossed with one from Muriel and they agreed to meet up in Liverpool on 18 September before going to her home in Birkenhead where he stayed as a guest of the Smethurst family for five days. The visit was momentous, and his letter to Muriel, dated 25 September reflected this:

“My Dear One,

The Parish in which I reside is Llanrhos and I have written to Rev Foster-Carter informing him of this …

I am now going to visit the Padre to ask him to publish the banns

…

Thank you dearest for sending me the wine. I am happy that Mrs Smethurst approves.

My people are delighted and say such nice things about you … Lou … has known I loved you about as long as I have.

I have played golf with Father, Elsie and Nora this morning, trying to keep my mind occupied, but it would and did wander and I longed to be with you.

How sweet you are I have not fully realised, but this is well as even now I am hardly able to behave sensibly. My love! How beautiful you are, the five days in B’head have shown me a perfect paradise.

I long for your embrace, I dare not dwell in thought on your kisses, my sweet one,

May God make me fit for you.

What heaven is in your touch! What joy in your sweet eyes! My Muriel!”

The mood turned to music in Llandudno Junction. “I was practising some songs last evening which Nora played for us and which suited to partly express my love of you, but only partly as all of a long life will not suffice to show you my love which grows greater every hour I am with you.”

Both families, from their separate bases, began preparing for the wedding day, with daily letters from both Muriel and Leonard continuing to proclaim their love for each other. “I love you; my own Muriel and you don’t know how I long for your kisses that burn me so, the gentle touch of you melts me inside and makes me just yours to do what you will with.”

Various hotels were being considered for the honeymoon, and there was much discussion about the presents they would exchange. They finally agreed that they would exchange silver card cases embossed with the future initials of the recipient – “MW” for Muriel and “LW” for Leonard. Leonard claimed he had “had a busy day doing little or nothing, such as golf, haircutting, gardening and mending bicycle tyres.” Happily, Muriel’s father, away on holiday in Norwich, responded very positively to Leonard’s letter to him seeking his daughter’s hand in marriage.

“My dear Leonard

It was certainly a very great surprise when I received yours and Muriel’s letter telling me of your engagement to one another; I consent willingly and hope you will be extremely happy. Muriel has been a good daughter and ought to prove an excellent wife. My loss I hope will be her gain. You and your family are no strangers to us, and the only drawback is taking her away so far from us. I suppose you are now in a position to marry and will have to make plans. Life in India must be different to life in England; however, I shall see you on my return. I have enjoyed my visit here very much and feel much better for the change.

With my best wishes,

yours sincerely,

JM Smethurst”

Eventually all the preparations, licences and agreements were in place and the happiest of weddings took place at the Claughton Church on 14 October 1919 – just over a month after Leonard arrived in Llandudno for his holiday, having only seen Muriel briefly on four or five occasions, all in 1914, since he left for India in 1910. Leonard at that stage was thirty-one years old and Muriel thirty-five.

The wedding church published details of the wedding in its monthly paper:

“A Christ Church Wedding.

There is but one wedding in our columns this month, but it had a very special interest for Christ Church. The bride was very well-known and loved by us all as Miss Muriel Smethurst. By her lifelong interest in, and connection with us, by her selfless willingness to help, by her splendid and continuous War Service, she has endeared herself to us all. We shall miss her tremendously. But we certainly do not grudge her great happiness, and perhaps we are particularly glad that her husband, Mr Leonard Wilson is, in a sense, also one of us. His family though now alas, is no longer with us but in the more beautiful North Wales land, were also great lovers of Christ Church. We have had of late, more than ever, to chronicle our sympathy with them in their times of sorrow, when the great war took its terrible toll on their most gallant son, Frank, and when the hand of death took away their devoted mother. Mr Leonard Wilson has indeed, unlike his brothers, been long away from us, doing splendid service for the Empire in faraway parts of India. But we shall claim him still as ours, and we shall have another link with our Dependency, when we think of the house which he and his bride will shortly have in India.”

Their honeymoon was spent initially at St David’s Hotel in the Wirral at 16s6d per day however long we stay. “I had asked about fires in our room, but they say that this can’t be done without a Doctor’s certificate and now that you have made me so happy, I look too well to get such a certificate.” Thereafter, they travelled and stayed in the area of the North Wales coast before returning to stay briefly at the Carnavon Arms in Birkenhead, and then at either of the two-family houses.

Leonard’s home leave was extended by two months and fourteen days from 15 February 1920 to 28 April 1920, treated as an extension of furlough on half pay. This, together with his improved status as “Resident Engineer (Scale “A” Junior)” from 1 September 1913, meant that his salary was marginally increased. While the extra leave was much welcomed by both families, Muriel and Leonard had to prepare for their new circumstances in India, and that meant spending a week or two separately preparing for the journey and their new house together in India. During this period, they wrote to each other daily. For Leonard, the days were spent walking in the hills, taking Arthur and the ‘fair haired nurse’ out to lunch in the Grand Hotel, Llandudno, preparing for the journey back to India, repairing the shutters at the house, putting “father on the twelve fifteen p.m. to London,” and walking with his sisters to Colwyn Bay.

Above all he was distressed, in the early spring of 1920 by the fact that Muriel “felt sick every morning” but delighted at what this meant for them both.

Finally, the GIP Railway Board authorised them to sail for Calcutta, via Colombo on the City of Cairo leaving on 20 March. By now Muriel had been pregnant for about four weeks and, given the logistics involved in travelling to Calcutta, and then back by train to Bombay, Leonard was anxious to avoid any unnecessary discomfort for Muriel and arranged to disembark in Colombo and take a short break there before travelling onwards. Both of them referred to the delights enjoyed during this break in later correspondence. Eventually however, they arrived in Bombay in late April 1920, having made the decision; Leonard, very reluctantly, but putting Muriel’s comfort as a priority, to let Muriel escape to the cool climate of Kashmir while she coped with her sickness. Travelling by train from Bombay to Rawalpindi via Agra and Delhi, accompanied all the way by a Sepoy known to Leonard, she was met by Miss Barnett in ‘Pindi’. Miss Barnett then drove Muriel very slowly, over two days, via Srinagar to Baramulla on the west side to Lake Wular, on the Jhelum River, where she was to stay for the next six weeks on a houseboat owned by the Dorans, while she struggled with her morning sickness.

As ever when they were apart, Leonard and Muriel wrote to each other almost daily. Technically, Leonard’s home leave was only due to end on 29 April and he used the remaining weeks in Bombay, initially to recover from a bout of ‘flu’ and then to meet up with Mr Fraser, his new direct report in the Bombay Works Division. On 15 April he moved out of the Taj Mahal Hotel where he had been staying at Rs16/- per day, to the bungalow he had been allocated in Parsik, from where he was to work on the Parsik Tunnel. Prior to starting work officially on 29 April he sought to set up a comfortable home for Muriel in what was a relatively remote area in terms of European neighbours.

The key tasks he needed to accomplish were to:

build up his strength having lost 8lbs in weight while he was sick with “flu and eczema”.buy a Daimler “overland” car for R3,900/-.buy furniture for the bungalow to supplement his meagre resources from his bachelor days, at a total cost of R1,300/-.Take, and pass, the driving test which was now a requirement.recruit staff for the bungalow, including a butler, a cook, a dhobi (washing man), a sweeper and a night-watchman.buy a silk suit.collect his old furniture, en route from Shahabad.“dismember the carburettor of the car to learn its internal economy,”pick up a box of linen from England, which was found at Victoria Terminus in Bombay.welcome back his dog ‘Bess’ who lived with him in Shahabad.collect his chairs that had been sent to Bombay from Shahabad but got damaged when “the locomotive or carriage and wagon workshops of GIP Railway went on strike and stopped trains and smashed property as a result of which British troops were sent out to keep the strikers in order.”put up wall lamp brackets and curtain rails.purchase two iron bedsteads for R310/-.look at the need for curtains.

All of these activities were ongoing as Leonard officially started his work on the Parsik Tunnel on 28 April. Daily letters to Muriel spoke of the 96-degree temperature, ongoing difficulties with the servants, and as ever, of his passionate love for Muriel with all the details that came with this – “how wonderful that our physical love should be so perfect,”

The job itself involved being “Resident Engineer in charge of brick lining the Parsik Tunnel of GIP Railway mainline, which is 3700ft long and 36ft wide, originally constructed through fissured rock, without lining.” The work included rock excavation and enlarging the tunnel to take the brick lining throughout the whole length. He was also in charge of a mile-long diversion of a public road to convert a level crossing to an underbridge crossing. When construction of the tunnel had been completed in 1916, the year after it was commenced, the tunnel was the longest in India and one of the longest railway tunnels in Asia. During the course of the project, which was to occupy him until August 1921, his salary was increased from Rs850/- to Rs900/- with effect from 1 September 1920.

By this time Muriel had returned from Kashmir and was fully recovered from her morning sickness. She was also busily ‘feminising’ the bungalow and preparing for the arrival of their first child, due towards the end of October. Leonard had, on occasion, to stay away in Bombay while picking up spare parts and also to attend meetings with Mr Fraser at GI & PR headquarters. The project itself was progressing satisfactorily, despite the dusty conditions underground, and due to “the result of the war in India … an absolute lack of interest in work … I can’t even get the railway to supply high power lamps to light up the tunnel (leading to) … difficulty supervising work in the darkness.” His determination eventually prevailed. “I have now got my work going at half the speed I was aiming at, and even this is double the speed since I started, so that’s something accomplished, though I am far from satisfied.”

Muriel’s presence again in his life and their bungalow brought him great happiness and joy. The last two to three months of her pregnancy went as well as could be expected and finally on 26 October 1920, their first child was born, at the bungalow on Parsik Hill, attended by a nurse, and a little later, a doctor who had travelled out from Bombay by catching a lift on the first goods train with his bicycle and then cycling up the hill to the bungalow. The birth of the boy named Frank Richard (after Leonard’s beloved brother, and his father), was attested to by the village headman who confirmed, in Hindu writing, that a boy was born to Mrs Muriel Wilson and Mr Leonard Wilson. This document was to prove vital fifty years later when the boy, thereafter, known as Dickie or Dick, sought to prove that he was a white man to the apartheid government of South Africa.

The delight of Muriel and Leonard was shared by many of their relatives in Britain and East Africa, as well as friends in India. Muriel’s sister wrote that: “I do hope you didn’t have a very long time of it, it’s a rotten business at any time. I wonder who he is like and what you will call him. John wanted to know if he had got a pram. I do wish I could be with you and see him. I wonder what your nurse is like, also the Ayah. I suppose the nurse looks after you, and the Ayah the baby. I do hope he’s good. I suppose he’s fed on Glaxo, is he?” Another friend, Mary White, wrote of her delight at the birth of Muriel’s baby boy, “he’ll be such lovely company for you when Leonard is away, as he often is … I really couldn’t help feeling amused when I heard that you were going to have a baby, because do you remember our very intimate conversation, in the lounge of the Imperial Hotel, Llandudno? You told me you were going to be like us and not have any children for two or three years!” Given that Dick was born two weeks after their first wedding anniversary he was certainly well ahead of that particular schedule.

Dick’s arrival in October coincided with one of the hottest months of the year, with average temperatures of 28–29 degrees Celsius, cooling to the low twenties in November – February. In April 1921, Leonard was working briefly in Thane, “in a temperature of a hundred and five in the shade, or about a hundred and forty in the sun, measuring the Kulva Belapin Road diversion and instructing the contractor from A to Z all over again, as the supervisor he had until now had given up the job and the contractor does not know what is to be done. Or what has been done.

These temperatures were too much for Muriel and her baby in their bungalow in Parsik and so, in early April Leonard encouraged them both, together with their Ayah to go and stay in Matheran, a hilltop station forty-five miles north of Bombay, which was much cooler than Bombay itself and which was a car free zone with lovely clean air, and wonderful views. The journey itself involved catching the mainline train to Neral, where they changed to the narrow gauge (2ft) line for the last fifteen miles into Matheran itself. There they stayed, excluding Leonard who had to return to work, until early June, exchanging daily letters.

For Leonard, their absence was acutely felt, as it was for Joseph, in charge of the domestic team at the house in Parsik. “Joseph told me today that the bungalow was not nice, owing to the absence of the memsahib and the small son.” However, Muriel was meeting up with other mothers including Mrs Pearson, with children in Matheran, and enjoying her time in the fresh air, going for walks and playing tennis, although however much she ate, she was still not putting on weight. “8 stone won’t do my dear, you must make it more than that as quickly as possible. I insist on at least four pounds per week increase up to about 9st 8lb.”

A short weekend break in Matheran for Leonard in mid-May was much enjoyed by the whole family, although in Leonard’s absence there was “trouble in the tunnel last weekend” and so the next visit had to be delayed. It was further delayed by “a length of arch which is giving trouble.” This was one of a number of health and safety issues he had to deal with. “The foreman of the ballast train engine had two fingers blown off in an explosion yesterday. The train was standing near the tunnel at the Mumbai end, and it is thought that the fireman picked up a detonator and threw it in the fire.” Another incident occurred which, “on lowering the centering on which a length of arch had been built, the brickwork … showed signs of weakness, so I instructed that cement should be poured in and the centering left to stand until my further instructions, a fool pulled out the centering and only his maker knows why he and many others were not killed.”

On occasional breaks from the heat and dust of the Parsik Tunnel, Leonard would drive out to Belapur a “quaint place on the Panvel Creek … with a ruined fort … salt pans,” or more often, to the chemists to get the baby’s medicines. “I am sorry the baby continues to give trouble.” He was keen too to get back to Matheran to see the family, particularly as the heat in Parsik rose to uncomfortably high levels.

So, in early May, he travelled again to Matheran and had another joyful weekend with Muriel and the baby – “I hope you are not too tired after all our activities.” By now he was frustrated at the slowness of the train from Matheran to Neral, which normally took two and a half hours to cover the fifteen-mile journey, on uncomfortable seating. On this occasion he chose to complete the downhill journey in a rickshaw, leaving Matheran at seven fifty-five a.m., reaching Neral at nine thirty, despite a serious breakdown of the rickshaw – “the spring of my rickshaw broke, so I despatched the coolie to fetch a branch of the tree which we passed under the body of the rickshaw and over the springs and this worked quite well without further mishap. The rickshaw journey is much more comfortable than the train which arrived later.”

As so often happened, while he was away in Matheran there was “an accident in the tunnel. A centering was removed, which should not have been removed for seven more days, and the arch fell down but did not injure or kill anyone.”

The ongoing incidence of accidents in his absence forced Leonard to spend even more time on the project and therefore more time on his own away from the family. Of an evening, he would take Bessie out for a walk and occasionally shoot a brace of spurfowl. Bess also showed her worth when racing at and frightening away “burglars prowling around the bungalow.”

In mid-May 1921 Leonard was served with notice to quit the bungalow in Parsik with effect from August 1921 and it was later confirmed that he was to be posted to Poona with effect from 31 July. That news was well received by Leonard, who wrote to Muriel that: “Poona needs to be remodelled – Chief Engineer enquiring when I will be free from Parsik and I told him that I have to leave the bungalow by the end of July and hoped to finish the tunnel by then. As regards the place, the CE could not have done better for a married man, always providing we can get a bungalow. I feel you will like Poona. We can walk in and round Poona and there is quite a good golf course. The gymkhana is a sports and social club like the Bombay Yacht Club and gymkhana combined. There are boats on the river and quite good rowing. There are branches of the big Bombay shops and also a native bazaar.”

A short weekend trip to Matheran gave Leonard a break from the increasingly difficult working conditions on the tunnel and was enjoyed enthusiastically. “I hope you are now rested after the rather strenuous Sunday night,” he wrote, “I had nine hours in bed last night to make up.” He got back to the bungalow to discover that Bessie was on heat.

In the tunnel “work progresses steadily but the speed is reduced owing to shortage of labour, there are 500 feet of tunnel still to be lined of the total length of 4322ft”. Cash flow problems at the GI & PR meant that the workers were not being paid and on 25 May work stopped. On 27 May, workers started to leave, coinciding with temperatures of ninety-four degrees Fahrenheit. This became a serious issue for the GI & PR, and for Leonard, but by the end of the month the 500ft had been reduced to one hundred and twenty feet and the finish was in sight. Best of all for Leonard was the fact that Muriel and Dick returned from Matheran, and the family was together again.

When the tunnel was finally completed, Leonard and the family moved to Poona, which was to be their home until 6 October 1924. Muriel was very happy in this pleasant town while Leonard worked as the Resident Engineer on the “Poona station remodelling” which involved “bridge reconstruction, which work cost £ 400,000 and included a 2,000,000 cubic feet earthwork, eight miles of track in a new goods yard, one 80 feet under span, a public road overbridge in place of 20 feet span, one 50 feet span public road subway in place of overbridge, one new fifty feet span public road subway; a new station building double storied – four hundred feet long by forty feet wide with approach roads, five sub-staff bungalows with service roads. Double track girder, bridge over the river, 11 x 70ft spans on two cylinders of steel above and one below water, and cylinders sunk into riverbed inside temporary sited cuissons sealed to riverbed by divers.”