The Written Word
for May 9, 1999

Yesterday was the 54^th anniversary of VE Day, short for Victory in Europe Day. I remember it well as a boy of 13 – I was at St Georges School and we all went into the chapel and sang Oh God Our Help In Ages Past. It was a poignant moment especially as I looked around and saw the boys who had lost their Dads … including my cousin Hugh Bardon.

On the 50^th anniversary Wendy and I went to London where we met my old pal and law partner, Stan Winfield, who had been in London in front of Buckingham Palace on that great day 50 years before. The evening before Stan, Wendy and I had a beer or two at my hotel and Stan and I, both being Churchillians, reminisced about the magnificent role played by our hero, Winston Churchill, leading up to the events 50 years before. And that discussion started a rather strange series of events.

All three of us went to the palace the following day and watched the re-enactment of the scene 50 years before as The Queen, the Queen Mother and Princess Margaret came out on the balcony. Missing, of course, were King George VI and Winston Churchill. I said to Stan as a squadron of Spitfires and Hurricanes flew past, "wouldn’t it be wonderful if God could permit Winnie to appear, just for a few seconds?"

After the event, the 250,000 who had jammed the Mall started to disperse and the three of us walked down Buckingham Palace Road to find a pub. I should add that Stan was resplendent with all his medals. I was using a cane from an injury I’d received playing squash and part way I said I would have to sit down on a doorstep and rest a moment. I had scarcely done so when a middle aged man with two young men in tow came out of the huge crowd and grabbed Stan by the hand and said "I see you’re Canadian. Welcome to London … my name is Winston Churchill and these are my two sons Randolph and Jack." It was indeed Winston Churchill, MP, and grandson of the great man himself. It was a tad eerie. But this wasn’t the end of the matter.

To digress briefly, Wendy and I that night went to the monster celebration at Speakers’ Corner in Hyde Park near Marble Arch where there was a wonderful show before a crowd estimated at well over 200,000 and which featured the Queen and the Sweetheart of the Armed Forces, Dame Vera Lynn. We were seated amongst some much older Londoners from the Eastside which had taken such a pasting in the Blitz. They, complete with picnic baskets and assorted liquid refreshments, were having the time of their lives. When Robert Hardy, of All Things Great and Small fame and an eminent Churchillian, gave Churchill’s speech on VE Day there occurred a pause and into the deathly silence came the voice of an old lady sitting next to me who, as she raised her clenched fist, shouted "and we stood alone." It was a great moment and it made the hair on my neck stand up. Shortly thereafter Vera Lynn sang "We’ll Meet Again" accompanied by 200,000 of us – there wasn’t a dry eye in the house.

Wendy and I went off to Wales for a few days and on the way back agreed we would stay in Stratford for our last night and see a Shakespeare play but that on the way I would show her Blenheim Palace where Winston, a direct descendant of the Duke of Marlborough, was born as well as the little rain shelter in the gardens where he had proposed to his darling Clementine. After touring Blenheim, we drove a couple of miles to the small churchyard in Bladon where Winston, Clemmie and other Churchills are buried. On his grave were many bouquets, commemorating VE day and there was one especially touching one, which simply said "thank you for freeing our country, from two very grateful Dutch friends."

As we walked out of the churchyard an older woman pushing a stroller with a baby was coming in. I looked at the little chap and said to the lady, "well, I guess it’s true that all babies look like Winston Churchill."

"Well he should", replied the lady,"because his name is Winston Churchill!"

No relation, apparently, but the parents had picked Winston as the lad’s Christian name.

Perhaps it doesn’t seem so spooky in the re-telling but for Wendy and me it seemed as if the great man’s ghost had been following us that past several days.