Clonakilty, Cork, Eire
Dear Mom, Dad & All:-
May 30, 1942
It's Saturday morning and I'm here at Charley
Dullea's really enjoying my vacation, or holiday as it's called here, to
the utmost. While I have the time and the inclination I'll write
a review of my trip to date so that you can enjoy, mentally at least, the
things I did.
Cheerio, 'til the next installment,
Bob
I came off duty at one p.m. last Friday and
after having dinner, packing my bag, and cleaning up a bit I started for
town at two-thirty accompanied by Park Riggs, the other American CTC on
the station. The first stop was the laundry where I got everything
fresh and clean for the trip. Then to the tailors where I had left
my suit to be sponged and pressed. Donning this I left the uniform
I was wearing with him for cleaning and pressing and we went over to Strathdee's
restaurant for tea. It sure seemed queer to be wearing civies again
and become just one of the crowd.
After tea we headed for the depot and I procured
my ticket in exchange for the government warrant. Inquiry revealed
the train was due to leave for Glasgow in fifteen minutes, so I said Au
Revior to Riggs, procured a paper and magazine to read and got aboard.
The train was packed and I wandered from end to end looking for a seat.
I finally found one in a compartment with three women of middle age, a
sailor and a soldier. After we got started the women started up a
conversation and soon everyone was joining in. They were all very
curious about me, of course, and I told my story for the ten thousandth
time. After a while one of the women brought out a bag of candy and
passed it around and another bag of cookies. It was all very cozy
and pleasant listening to their Scotch accented chatter and to hear their
opinions of the war, politics, the food situation, prices and the like.
We rode together until we reached Perth when I had to change trains for
Glasgow. After doing so I found myself in company with an RAF Pilot
Officer who wasn't particularly communicative and a couple other civilians.
Except for a very few words with the officer, the rest of the journey to
Glasgow was made in gloomy silence, everybody reading or looking out of
the window. The scenery all along was well worth looking at.
The rugged countryside was never flat for more than half a mile and the
mountains reared up in the distance. The stone fences that separated
the fields still gave me that impression of fairyland and with the fields
now a bright green it was very attractive.
We arrived at Glasgow at nine o'clock at the
Buchanan St. Station. As I was going by plane from Glasgow to Belfast.
I had to be at the Central Station in the morning so I thought I'd better
get over there at once and check up on my reservation, etc. Coming
out of the station into a city I'd never seen, I hadn't the slightest notion
where the Central Station might be, so I asked a bobby for directions.
After having them repeated about three times to enable me to translate
his thick dialect into understandable English, I set off with about a mile
to walk through the heart of town. I could have taken a bus or tram,
but as you don't learn anything that way, I chose to walk.
I wound my way through the busy streets with
little difficulty and in my civvy clothes appeared to be enough of a native
to not merit more than a passing glance from the hundreds walking about.
It was still broad daylight of course. In spite of the clock, and
I was able to see all the points or interest as I went along. It
didn't require more than half an hour to reach the station and inquiry
at the airway office revealed that my reservation was okay and I was told
to be there at 8:45 in the morning. Well, that was that; and now
all I needed was a place for the night. Without any idea of where
to go, I approached a window marked "Information for the Forces" and after
stating my position and showing my identification card the young lady said
she had a fine place in mind for me and would call up and see if there
was a vacancy. There was, so she wrote the address on a card and
directed another woman to take me out and get me started right. These
woman wear a blue uniform with Women's Volunteer Service on their hats.
She took me out and across to where I would catch the tram and waited with
me 'til it came. As I was getting on a gentleman told the woman he'd
see to it that I got off at the right place as he was going farther along
the same way. We climbed to the upper deck and as we sat down he
offered me a cigarette and then paid my fare when the conductor came around
to collect. If that isn't hospitality, I don't know the meaning of
the word. We had quite a little chat on the war and the U.S. as we
rode along and when we came to where I got off he told me just how to go
to find the hotel, which I did in a few minutes walk.
I went up to the door and looked for a bell,
but didn't see any, nor any knocker either. However there was a sort
of knob at one side and I took hold of it and noticed it was attached to
a cord which held it against the wall. I was trying to puzzle it
out when the door opened and a women looked out at me with a big smile
and said, "Just give it a good pull and let it go," and laughed.
Of course there was no need to, then, so I followed her in. "Would
you like a cup of tea and a bite to eat?" she asked me and I accepted.
She then asked me my name, and led me into a large room of about 14 x 30
feet with a long dining room table in the center and many chairs about
it. "This is Ed Martin," she said to the bunch there, "meet everybody."
Sure shook me. There were about twelve fellows and girls there, some
in uniform and some not. They all said hello and one of the girls,
a Winnepeg native serving with the ATS invited me to sit next to her and
poured me a cup of tea. We had a bit of conversation while I ate
a couple sandwiches and a piece of cake which had come in a package one
of the Canadian soldiers had received that day. The group with whom
I was associated were billeted there and it certainly was a homey democratic
atmosphere with none of the formality of the usual hotel. After I
had finished eating the proprietress showed me my room, which was a large,
one with three beds in it. I and one of the other fellows went to
bed right away and the third fellow came in later. It was a good
bed and I slept like a rock.
They awakened me at seven-thirty next morning
and after having breakfast and a shave, I thanked the landlady for the
cordial welcome I had received, paid her the five and six pence ($1.10)
for the room and breakfast and set out for the station.
Arriving there I filled out an embarkation
card, secured my tickets, and boarded the bus which would take me to the
airport. It was soon filled with passengers for Belfast and Campbelltown
and we headed out toward the field. It wasn't a very good morning, the
clouds were thick and heavy, and the sun shown but dimly. Arriving at the
airport we had to face the police and immigration inspectors, my passport
was inspected and stamped, and I was ready to go. The small plane for Campbelltown
took off first and then they warmed up the four motored plane which we
were to take. I was much disappointed to find the windows covered over
with translucent but not transparent paper in accordance with the defense
regulations. I had hoped to look over the great shipping centers and the
islands along the river Clyde, but such was not to be. Finally the plane
was ready and we got aboard. There were twelve passengers in all. The motors
roared and after taxiing to the end of the runway, we were off. It's rather
a queer sensation at first, you feel the plane bumping along as it gathers
speed and then suddenly you realize you're in the air without knowing just
exactly when you left the ground, because you can't see a thing with the
windows covered. I read the morning paper and a Reader's Digest while we
soared over the Irish Sea and in an hours time felt the plane dropping
out from under me as we lost altitude coming in to land. It was a perfect three-point landing without a bump and as I climbed out of the plane
I was rather disappointed to find it pouring down rain. Again there was
the immigration authorities to contend with, which didn't take long and
we were bundled into seven passenger sedans and set out for the center
of Belfast, the capitol of Northern Ireland. We were set out at the central
airway ticket office, so I inquired about my return trip, but found everything
reserved for the next tnree weeks, which meant I'd have to return by boat.
I had them put me on the waiting list in case someone cancelled and then
set out to find the American Consulate and get my passport fixed up for
another six months. I had intended going to Edinburgh on the way down,
never having got there before, to have it done, but Saturday was the only
day I could get a seat on the plane so had to change my plans.
A bobby, this time with an Irish Brogue, directed
me to the consulate wnere I was given a hearty welcome by Mr. Fuess, the
American Vice Consul. We talked for an hour or more on the usual subjects.
He was a great fellow about my own age and we got along well. One of the
girls filled out the forms which I signed and I was O.K. for another six
months. I asked him where I should go for a good dinner, and he said such
a thing wasn't to be had, but the Bonacorn Restaurant was about the best
bet and he told me how to get there.
I took off again in the rain and found the
place. The headwaiter showed me to a table, called another to bring me
the menu, and departed. I had a fine meal, lobster soup, half a roast chicken,
mashed potatoes, fresh green peas, apple tarte (pie), and coffee (six shillings,
$1.40). Feeling satisfied with the world in spite of the rain as I came
out with a full tummy, I decided there was no use hanging around as it was
too wet to do any sightseeing. I started out to find a railway station.
I did after a tram ride costing a penny, but it was the wrong one, so I
had to board another one and go clear across the city to a second station.
I hadn't any idea when I'd catch a train (they don't print time tables
any more), but I found on my arrival that I had just ten minutes to get
aboard for Dublin. Dame Fortune was really good. The train was packed to
the guards and there wasn't a chance to get a seat in the third class so
I got into a first class compartment with another fellow and away we went.
The conductor didn't collect the extra fare since the train was so full,
so once again I had the best at no extra cost.
At the Eire border we once again had to go
through the immigration and customs inspections, once by the British and
once by the Irish. They're still mighty particular about these things,
since Eire is neutral. After a three hour journey during which I spent
the time conversing with the Irishman in the compartment with me about
Ireland and the problems of the Free State. It was very pleasant and we
shook hands at parting in the depot at Dublin with mutual respect for each
other. I went into the depot restaurant and had supper and then set out
to see Dublin and find Tom Shelly.
I've reached the Air Mail limit and as I've
been writing for nigh onto three hours, I'll sign off and continue in another
letter about how I had the wrong address for Tom, how by coincidence I
finally found him, and the fine time I had in Dublin.