Tracks and lives

I see our lives as mousetracks through the long grasses on a great plain. Weaving hither and thither, crossing and re-crossing, always of course with a start point on another's track and always with an ending, most often with other tracks starting out from our own along the way.




Yesterday we were glad to welcome new arrivals to our Kirkhill B&B. They'd not previously been to this area, in fact we'd never met before.In the evening I was able to obtain seats for them in Aultbea Village Hall. There we listened to talks on Russian Convoy matters; specifically the 'export' of a complete R.A.F. wing of Hurricanes fighter planes when Stalin came in on our side in 1941 and secondly the famous Enigma code-breaking machine at Bletchley Park. Our lady guest was especially interested. Her father, recently passed away, had served in the war on convoy duties and in fact had brought with her his wartime autobiography. This morning Dee and I were both very interested to read it. When Dee finished she looked up, wide-eyed. 'This is amazing,' she said. Why? Well, this is the note she wrote. She's left it for our guests when they come down for their breakfasts ....

 




"I do believe that our fathers were serving on HMS Duke of York at the same time. I
was born December 1944 and I was presented with a Teddy Bear on which was
stitched a small piece of material with the words ‘ To Delia Mary from the
Officers and Men of HMS Duke of York’ Reading through your Dad’s story I am
sure they were both on the ship at the same time. At that time my Dad was
Gunnery Officer.




However your Dad was born in 1925 whereas mine was born in
1908. He joined the Royal Navy as a 14 year old boy."




As I say, tracks .... crossing, criss-crossing ...