by Brian Laidlaw

'Wait there,' said Don's grandfather. 'I've got just the thing for you. I've been saving it up for when I thought you needed it.'

He returned within a few minutes with a bulky letter tied up with string. Don took the package from him carefully. The wrapping was torn and yellowed.

'Take care of it,' Grandfather said. 'This letter was sent to me by your great, great uncle George many years ago. It helped me then and I hope it will help you now. You're so much like me when I was your age.'

The letter, dated July 1941, was handwritten on twenty or more sheets of paper. The quality varied in places as if it had been scribbled hastily on different occasions. Don took it to his room and started to read, slowly at first as he tried to make sense of the unfamiliar writing.

"Dear Billy," the letter began. "Would you believe that at this very moment I am in Soviet Russia? The German troops attacked without warning and things are now looking a little dangerous.

"Nobody took any notice of me when I told them this would happen. Our only hope is that the Russian forces can resist long enough for the onset of their winter to hold the enemy back. I am, as you might imagine, doing my best to help.

"But I'm jumping ahead too fast. You will want to know what I've been up to since we last met - five years ago now, isn't it? Well, you've probably read at school about the start of the Spanish Civil War in July 1936, just after we had enjoyed ourselves at the seaside on your seventh birthday.

"Remember that holiday? Your very first? I asked you to pick up a handful of sand. I told you not to let life slip through your fingers. I hope you won't. I didn't.

"You will know that I was a millionaire by the time I was thirty five but lost everything in 1929, just after you were born, because of the great Wall Street crash. I realised then that money wasn't important. I soon realised what was.

"After reluctantly leaving you I happened to find myself in Spain just as the Revolt was getting under way. I was convinced the Left Wing Popular Front had taken on too much and that the war would soon develop into an International Affair. I was certain Franco's Nationalists would win - which they did - aided as they were by the Germans and Italians. Once again my advice was ignored.

"I have often come near to death, never closer than in April 1937 when our car was attacked just east of Guernica by six Heinkel bombers. I will tell you later of some of the other miraculous escapes I have had all over the world.

"Many times I have been afraid but always more than fortunate. Until now. That is the reason for this letter. I want you to understand why I have been absent from your lives for so long after your mother rejected me. This might be my last opportunity to explain."

'Don!' Don had only read the first few pages when his mum's shout reminded him that he should have been down for his tea. He folded the letter slowly and placed it safely in his drawer.

'What've you been doing?' Mum asked. 'I called you ten minutes ago.'

Don's grandfather raised his hand. 'I gave him Uncle George's letter to read. He probably got too involved in it.'

Don opened his mouth to speak, but his mum's attention had been diverted. She shook her head reproachfully at his grandfather. 'What on earth did you give him that for? You should have asked me first.'

'I thought he needed to read it. I thought it would help.'

Mum nodded and no more was said about the letter until Don had left the table and was going upstairs to his room. As he climbed the stairs he could hear the argument continuing.

'He's going through a hard time at school just now,' his grandfather was saying. 'Puberty's a difficult time. He's small and he's waiting to fill out a bit. Uncle George had the same problem at that age. So did I. It's in the genes.'

'You know,' said Mum, 'what a liar your uncle was. You can't believe anything he said. That letter will fill Don's head with a pack of lies.'

'Uncle George had a good imagination,' Grandfather agreed. 'But he was an adventurer, a man of action. Much of what he said makes a lot of sense.'

'He was a crook, a criminal, a philanderer,' Mum insisted, and Don was surprised at the emotion in her voice. 'Do you really think he was in all those places he wrote about? I'm quite certain he was rotting in some foreign gaol when he wrote that letter.'

'I don't agree with you,' Grandfather said gently. 'Your opinion of him may be a little bit coloured . . .'

But Mum interrupted him with anger in her voice. 'Don't go into that! I've managed to forget it all these years. I've no wish to remember it now.'

Don didn't want to listen to any more. He went to his room, closed the door and took out the letter again.

He scanned the next few pages that told of experiences in Spain until the end of the Civil War in March 1939 as General Franco took Madrid .

Page ten began: "I have recounted all this to you, Billy, - and I hope it has been of more than a little interest - so that you will remember who I am and what I am and why I am. I have always tried to do whatever I could to help the causes I believed in.

"I am no hero. I have often been very scared. It is the way you act when you are scared that matters. You are old enough to know what I mean.

"I was twenty eight years old in 1911 when I joined Captain Scott in his attempt to reach the South Pole. As you know, he made it in January of the following year. I had been forced to pull out early because of a broken leg. Others, more courageous and less fortunate than I was, didn't survive. I should have died then.

"Even going down with the Titanic in April 1912 while I was recuperating from my experiences at the South Pole didn't change my luck. (I was 'lucky' to get a cabin at the last minute. It would have been safer to have stayed in London to see the total eclipse of the sun - but less exciting). I should've drowned then with fifteen hundred others.

"I should also have died in 1916 along with half a million when I fought the Germans at the Battle of the Somme . And again in 1918 when 2000 people a week were dying in London of Spanish 'Flu. But I didn't, and from then on I was determined to put my life to some use.

"I am pleased to have met many brave men and women who have done what they had to do in spite of being very afraid.

"Perhaps I didn't mention that in Spain I had the good fortune to sail with a ship's captain, a Welshman, known locally as 'Potato Jones'. He really did exist. He became a national hero after running a blockade of Italian submarines. His name will, I am sure, end up in the history books.

"He taught me a great deal about bravery, determination, dedication, humility, modesty, self-belief and much more. Luckily I also learned enough about boats from 'Potato Jones' to enable me to assist in the evacuation of troops from Dunkirk on the first day of June 1940. (The Thames froze over in that year - do you remember?) Over a third of a million men were rescued. Just think about it. You would have been just eleven years old by that time. We had to endure magnetic mines, air attacks, U-boats and desperate overcrowding.

"'Potato Jones' would have been proud of me. I hope you are, too, just as I expect to be proud of you."

The letter went on into some detail of the suffering endured by the men during the voyage back to Ramsgate and Don found it almost impossible to take it all in. He remembered hearing his mum speak just once of his great, great uncle George but what she had said had not been flattering. It had not prepared him for the kind of life-style he was reading about now.

He was only half way through the letter but he skipped to the last page, curious to find out how the story ended.

"So here I am, another year gone by, in Soviet Russia, once more facing the enemy, the Germans who have already overrun many Countries; Finland, Czechoslovakia, Denmark, Norway, Holland, Belgium and, of course, France.

"My experiences have taught me that we must stand up to bullies and aggression wherever they are found. I am thankful I have had the strength to do that in my small way. I know that you, too, have that inner strength even if you don't realise it yet. I have seen it in your eyes. Sometimes things will seem dark, but most times you will come out on top.

"I would not lie to you. You know that. My reason for telling you about my life is so that you will remember your uncle George with love and pride.

"But the past is the past and it is the future that matters. Your future, because mine is now very limited although, as you can see, I have packed much into my fifty eight years. I have no regrets about the past or what is likely to happen to me now.

"I must finish quickly. I trust with all my heart that this letter will reach you. I am entrusting it to a very good friend.

"I think this may be the very last you will ever hear from me. Please give my enduring love to your daughter. I never intended to hurt her. Please . . ."

The letter ended abruptly and had no signature.

Don stared at it for some time as if trying to see into the past. Then he folded it carefully and went down to speak to his mother and grandfather. There were so many questions he had to ask.

© Brian Laidlaw

Brian Laidlaw is a member of Lanark Writers, an established group of people who enjoy writing and who offer encouragement to others. Their latest Anthology of stories and poems, A Lot of Hot Air, has just been published and is available at £4.95 from several local outlets. Another anthology for children is in the course of preparation. The Group meets in the ALVO Rooms at 2 Hope Street, Lanark on Mondays from 7 - 9 pm. Anyone interested should contact the Lanark library.