Chapter 6: Sick leave

Three weeks after my landing I said goodbye to Joan and I was taken to Haslar Hospital near Portsmouth for a full medical. I had a chance to report to Captain S/M at the base, and renew some old acquaintances. My old boat Tenacious was out on patrol, and my ex First Lieutenant Bill had been made Lieutenant Commander in my place, and was now in permanent command. He had been very successful, and had been on a special operation, and sunk a couple of enemy ships in another patrol. However, it was wartime, and it was sad that several of my oldest friends had not returned from their patrols. Their boats apparently being the casualties of war as they were now long overdue.

I was quizzed by many friends and acquaintances on my so-called defection, but as I pointed out, we are all bound by the

Official Secrets Act and my adventures would have to wait until the war was won. After a very pleasant visit, I was free to go home on sick leave pending appointment. My kit would follow, being brought to my home by the Red CrossI

I arrived at the local station in Wiltshire, by the morning milk train. Fortunately, I had been able to get a message through to Jean, that I was on my way, and she had waited on the station all night. Anyone seeing our reunion would have thought that we were lovers, and not just cousins. She told me that she had received a visit, from some security people, and the local police, and that everyone was taking the issue of my security very seriously. She was quite concerned about all the fuss which was being made which quite rightly, made her think I was in some sort of danger.

It was good to be home, and despite the war my sister prepared a wonderful breakfast for me. It was good to come back to some real Wiltshire bacon and eggs and a proper mug of tea, in a proper farm house kitchen. I was surprised, and delighted to see a couple of new faces at the breakfast table. The ministry of agriculture had allocated two quite attractive land girls to us. They were both London born and bred, and had never seen a real cow in their lives before they came to work at the farm.

Jean was really pleased with them; they had taken to life on the farm like ducks to water. Rose the youngest one had lost her parents recently, in a raid on London, and Betty had come straight from an orphanage, and had no known family. They were both quite pretty girls, and worked well together.

Most of our male workers were past the age for military call-up, but we had lost three to the army. So the land girls were a useful addition. We had been promised one more girl, but she had not yet arrived.

I took the first couple of days quite easy, just helping with little jobs around the farm, when I felt like it I even got up for early morning milking, and quite impressed the girls with my skills in milking. I had been mucking out the cowshed one morning, and when I returned to the kitchen, I found a young attractive lady sitting there talking to Jean.

She was introduced to me as Mrs. Angie Drake. She was about 25 and slim with nice features, long blonde hair and quite a pleasant personality. Her and her husband was my tenants in Lower Hill farm which was the other side of the railway line. I was quite intrigued with her, and in talking found that she had been a second officer in the WRNS, but having married, and become pregnant, she was discharged. She did however subsequently lose the baby. Her husband was a serving naval officer, and had just started his submarine training at HMS Dolphin.

Later Jean told me, that her husband was not a very popular character in the village. He was frequently the worst for drink, and had upset a number of the local people at the local pub with his bombastic attitude. It was also thought that he was a wife beater, as Angie had been seen on occasion sporting a black eye, and several other bruises on her arms. I talked for quite a long time with Angie about her time in the WRNS, and I guessed from some of her responses, that she was quite nostalgic about the service and given the opportunity to return at some time in the future, she probably would.

The following Saturday morning, I decided that I would stroll over to Lower Hill farm I took the route, using the footpath across the various pastures. I crossed the railway line using the pedestrian bridge crossing and into the woods on the other side. Jean used Lower Hill farm, (my farm) basically for beef production. Keeping her farm upper hill farm for the milking herd. Currently the milking herd was in the region of about 125, so hand milking twice a day was a big task.

I had just entered the wood, when I heard a blast from a shotgun. I moved towards the sound, and came into a clearing. It took me about four minutes to arrive at the scene. There was a scuffle going on between a young man in the clearing, who was attempting to kiss a girl. I recognised the girl as Maria. She was the daughter of a farm worker called Pedro, who had worked for us, and in 1938 had been killed in a farm accident.

The family had come to the UK to avoid the civil war in Spain. Maria still lived free of rent, in the farm cottage. She had been brought up in England, and had elected to stay here after her father had died. She occasionally helped out on the farm, as a part time worker, especially, during hay making, and other peak times. She had been my very first love, when we were teenagers. Maria had the typical Mediterranean colouring and temperament. She was a pretty girl, and I could see that she had matured, although I had not seen much of her since the outbreak of war.

I shouted to the man to move off. He backed off, and as he did so, he pointed the shotgun at me.

" Mind your own f... g business" he snarled.

"What are you doing with that gun?" I asked.

"I'm shooting rabbits." He snarled.

"You do not have permission to shoot on this land, and I suspect you do not have a gun licence anyway, and if I am right, you have stolen that gun from the Lower Hill farm gun cabinet."

"So what in f... g hell is it to do with you? He retorted.

"For one this is my land, and secondly that gun was locked in the gun cabinet at Lower Hill farm when I last saw it. And thirdly, I advise you to put that gun down on the floor, and step back unless you want to be killed yourself. If you look at the label on the butt of that gun, you will see that it is currently marked unsafe for use, and is more danger to you than to any rabbits."

Maria had come to stand by me as I was speaking. She took hold of my hand.

As I had been speaking, I had noticed two men appear in the bushes just behind him. He was unaware of them and I was fairly sure that they were armed police, which like me, had been attracted by the shot and I presume were part of my security.

As he hesitated I said. "You can treat that as an order Lieutenant. I could have you court-martialed for being out of uniform in wartime."

For the first time I saw a flicker of uncertainty on his face, and he put the gun down on the grass.

The police stepped back without being seen, seeing the gun was being grounded.

"I presume you are Commander Nash, the traitor. Sir"

"Yes I am Commander Nash VC- I am not, nor never have I been a traitor Lieutenant."

"Then why sir may I ask are you also out of uniform Sir."

"For your information, I am requested by the Admiralty not to wear uniform, at this time for a specific security reason. Now