All change
Life back in the UK was still wine and roses although the
girl I fell madly in love with was in Durban South Africa whilst I was now back
in port in the UK. She was now anxious
to become a Salvation Army officer and so applied to go into the Salvation Army
Training College in Johannesburg, fully
expecting me to follow her as soon as I had extracted myself from the Navy. Alas life never turns out as simple as that.
My father had got himself a job as a Railway crossing keeper in Babworth
a small village near Retford. The
family now went regularly to the Salvation Army corp in Retford which turned
out to be quite disastrous for everyone all round. My youngest sister understandable was the
apple of his. Do anything for her and
you couldn't put a foot wrong. Upset her and you would never be
forgiven unfortunately the good folks
did both. First they gave her a cornet
and taught her to play a brass instrument. Dad beamed. Then when she had mastered the instrument sufficiently to be able to play
in the band, they took it off her and gave it to someone else. Dad was fuming and never went back again. But all that was still to come. The ship had now returned to Chatham, her home port and I had a letter summoning me
to the Salvation Army Headquarters in London.
By this time Brenda had gone into “training” and was now at the Salvation Army Training College in Johannesburg. In those days the Salvation Army was very
strict about their cadets (people under training) being engaged to someone who
was not either a fellow cadet or a Salvation Army officer so when they found out she was
engaged to me she needed to get permission for it to continue. As I was still a candidate for officership
she told them it was OK as I was a candidate and would shortly be
going into training as well.. So of
course we both needed permission for the relationship to continue from our
respective Training college principle.
Not a problem or so I thought. I
duly went to London and met the kindest, sweetest person I have ever come
across except she tore apart every argument,
every but, maybe going to.
Every argument I put forward as to why I was not rushing back to my ship
and requesting to “buy myself out” she
shot down in flames. Feeling now two
inches tall and with not a shred of clothing left to cover my modesty she sent me on
my way to think about it, pray and then
come back and tell her what I was going to do. It must have been the first and only time I have been left speechless, before or since. With every argument ripped to pieces even before I left the room I knew what I had to do. It was Christmas 1968 and I was on my way
home to my parents new home in Retford.
On leave with a lot of thinking to do.
Christmas is the season for carol playing. A time to go round the street telling
people the good news that Jesus had been born in Bethlehem and collect lots of
money in the process. Unfortunately, I have always been ambiguous about carol playing. I
have always enjoyed carol playing, going
round the streets with the Salvation Army band playing carols. I also had no problems collecting money, for
the work of the social side of the Army needed as much money as it could get. For in those days there were no money from the government and all the money needed
for the work had to be collected from donations. There was though a tension, where we out there collecting money and by
the way tell out the good news or out there to tell the world a Saviour was
born and if we raised lots of money in the process all the better. I was very much the latter. I did not though know it at he time, Retford Corps was
the opposite. They wanted to buy a
complete new set of band instruments and therefore was raising the several thousand
pounds needed by doing as much caroling as possible that year. The rush to go round every street in the
town hardly taking time to draw breathe in order to cover as many streets as
possible in the shortest time as possible was something I found very difficult
to come to terms with. But when on
the next Sunday the bandmaster stood up and pleaded and cajoled even more collectors
to go knocking on the doors it was
too much. I downed my baritone and refused to do any more carolling. Nothing was said and I didn't think any
more about it. Until I got back to
London that is. This time as soon as
I walked through the door I knew there was something amiss. This time instead of the nice friendly
Brigadier lady there was a cold frosty
Major and the first thing I was greeted with, was him saying “I gather you are not happy with some things
in the Salvation Army” Taken aback by
the abruptness and hostility
especially after the last meeting I struggled to
think of what he was getting at and what to say in reply. After a few moments I said "Yes I suppose I
do as no churches are perfect and I would find I would disagree with some
things in whatever church I belong to.
After further conversation it became obvious he was referring to my
objection to the way they had been carolling in Retford. I tried to explain that I had no
objections to carolling or collections per say but the focus had to be playing
enough carols in the street for people to hear the reason for Christmas is the
birth of Jesus Christ not to raise enough money for a double bass and euphonium. But it was not too be. I had gone into the meeting planning to say
I was going back to the ship to request my discharge but I left with the ringing tone of “Come back when you've
changed your views. Until then don't call
us, We'll call you." They never did and little did I know it but
God had closed the door on full time ministry and my girlfriend in South
Africa. A few months later I got a
letter from Brenda to say she had met another Salvation Army cadet. A few months later they married and our
relationship was over. 25 years later
I was to learn the marriage was disastrous almost from the start. They both shortly after getting married left the Salvation Army and
despite having two children he started playing around.. As she now had two small children to look
after and there is no social services or other financial support she had to put up with it and stayed with him until the children had grown up 18 years or so later. But God,
despite all my failings, prepared something much better for
me. Less than a year after my
encounter in London I was posted to Malta,
met Julie and 44 years later still with her and with 3 great children. Life is still good and God still is
providing for all my needs. Occassional I would like a few greeds as well but He said I had to work for them if I really wanted them. As I am too lazy for that I just stay content with my needs. Despite all
the bumps and twists on the road, life
is still full of wine and roses.
As for my dad, sadly
all the family left the Army 6 months
after that Christmas in Retford and in 1969 he died. My mother and three sisters moved to
Barnsley to be near his side of the family and they lived there for another 40
years until she died. My mother did go back
to the Army but my sisters never did
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