Gone Fishing

GONE FISHING



Percy Morris used to visit me once every six months when I was curator of the South Wales Borderers museum in Brecon. He was a dear old man, slightly confused in old age, but quite harmless and very proud of his South Wales Borderers roots. Even though I was editor of the regimental journal, he used to cut out certain passages and paste them in a scrap book I told him once not to bother as I had plenty of spare journals, but it made no difference; it was a labour of love and he had no intention of giving it up.
He never married and when he was discharged from the Army some time after the war, he went to live with his sister in Brecon. Life for him could have been quite comfortable if it had not been for his brother-in-law - Alf Dewsnap. Alf was sanitary corporal in Dering Lines during the war and was of lower rank to Percy who wore two stripes on his arm. Like the proverbial 'elephant who never forgets', Alf waited for his fortunes to change; this they did when he married Gloria, Percy's sister.
Gloria Dewsnap was catapulted as a teenager into the role of matriarch of her family when her mother died before the war. It was natural, therefore, that Gloria, who had no children of her own, should offer Percy, her only male sibling, a home when he retired. Alf was opposed to this arrangement and did all he could to sabotage his wife's plans. But Gloria was strong willed and Percy was allotted a bunk at the back of the house.
Alf won an important concession: his brother-in-law had to vacate the house after breakfast and not return until he (Alf) had finished his tea at six o'clock. Percy, who never attempted his Army Certificate of Education 1st Class, might well have qualified for a retrospective award if the books he read in Brecon library, which was his daytime sanctuary, had anything to do with it. A change from his routine came once a month when he went to the Infantry Training Camp at Crickhowell, twelve miles away from Brecon, and acted as a server in St. David's Chapel when recruits passed out. One commanding officer thought so much of him that he invited Percy to stand alongside him on the saluting dais at his last parade.

My secretary in the museum was well versed in Percy's routine. One chocolate biscuit, a dash of milk in his tea and two spoons of sugar would start him going with stories that were more implausible than those he told on previous visits. He often spoke about the close relationship he had with the Prince of Wales which went back to the years when he taught Prince Charles how to fish.
One day, he told me about the time he spent in London attending the wedding of the Prince of Wales to Lady Diana Spencer. My eyebrows must have shot up when he said: "The reception in Buckingham Palace the night before the wedding waswonderful," and then went on to tell me about the conversations he had with the Duke of Edinburgh and other members of the Royal family. After ten minutes, or so, of pleasant intercourse, Percy picked up his scrapbook and said it was time to see the General.

Major General Lennox Napier, an old friend of mine, was the General Officer Commanding the Army in Wales at the time. More importantly, as far as Percy was concerned, he was a South Wales Borderer whose grandfather had been killed at Gallipoli while serving with 4/SWB - the same unit in which Percy's father served. I rang the General's PA and told her to have another cup of tea and a chocolate biscuit ready.

I saw the General a few days later and asked him if Percy had spun him the story about being invited to the reception in Buckingham Palace. "I don't know about that," said Lennox, "but he had a ticket and was sitting two rows behind me in St. Paul's Cathedral for the wedding."