Arriving at the US naval base in Norfolk Virginia, my ship was relocated to Chesapeake Bay to await orders to sail through the Panama Canal, for service in the Pacific. The view from the ship was nature at its very best. but we were confined to the ship, I could not resist, broke the rules, and was captured by the US Military
My ship had been in Newport News nearly two weeks and I had managed to visit Richmond to see a rodeo show, as well as Norfolk and Virginia Beach on quite a few occasions, but just when I was getting used to travelling around the area to see the sights, enjoying what a country, free of wartime restrictions could offer, when orders were received to move up river, to a place called Cheatham Annex, finally tying up at a quiet landing, completely surrounded by the most beautiful countryside I had ever seen to await further orders.
The cook John Simpson, appeared at the ship’s rail alongside me “What a God forsaken hole this is, I'll be glad to see the back of this place!” He looked across at me expecting a response. A typical city man’s shallow view of nature, I thought.
“This place is heaven on earth John, enjoy it while you can.”
“Enjoy what? There’s bloody nothing out there!” I felt sympathy for the man as he departed, grumbling as he went.
Arising very early next morning I went immediately out on deck, and the scenery was even more overpowering. The sun was up in a bright blue sky and the waters around the ship resembled a sheet of glass, reflecting the images of the shoreline. The abundance of pine trees appeared to practically surround the ship, making it an insignificant item in the overall scene.
Scanning the area for signs of life, I noticed a movement at the end of the pier and became aware of a small wooden hut that had previously escaped my attention, from which two American soldiers had emerged. Obviously guarding the end of the pier.
Making my way towards the G.I.’s who, observing my presence, had moved to the center of the approach. I heard the voice of the third officer calling from the ship.
“Come back on board, Bonner.”
I turned and gestured inquiringly. “I’m only going to the end of the pier Sir.”
“You’ll get instructions, but for now, stay on board.”
We were told later that we were situated in the middle of a U.S. Military establishment consequently, no one would be allowed past the end of the pier without special circumstances, or without a U.S. escort.
The scenery and weather were magnificent and I could at least walk along the pier. The only significant restriction was not being able to walk amongst that beautiful countryside. As each day went by however, I became more and more obsessed with the possibility of getting ashore, which began to dominate my thoughts.
Always rising very early in the morning, I noticed no movement from the guard post at the end of the pier until around 7 a.m., but was aware that the possibility of getting past them via the pier, at any time of day or night, would be impossible.
My plan was simple. I would go ashore through the water under the pier, and return during the early hours on the following morning, via the same route.
Wearing gym shoes and my work gear, and moving my arms and legs just enough to keep afloat, from one pier support to the next. I waited each time to listen for any movement from the guard hut, but heard none.
Once clear of the water I was able to sit on the grassy approach to remove my shoes and empty out the water. From that point on, the going was quiet and easy. I soon found myself amongst the pine trees, the sun just beginning to appear through the trees and across the ground. I headed towards where I thought the main road to Williamsburg would be. After a while it became quite warm, and with my clothes now almost dry, I was beginning to enjoy my new found freedom from the confines of the ship.
The road appeared quite suddenly; its presence masked by the density of the trees which continued to its very edge.
Looking in the direction of the sun I turned my back to it and began to walk towards Williamsburg, but after walking for quite a while I saw nothing but forest.
There had been no motor vehicles or any other signs of life on the road, and approaching a fallen tree on the side of the forest I sat down to decide whether to go on, or return to the ship
Preparing to move off, I became aware of a motor vehicle approaching. It may be a local, and I could find out more about the area, or even get a lift I thought. As the vehicle came into view, I realized the mistake I had made.
It was a military jeep with four American servicemen inside and within a few seconds it pulled up amid a shower of stones on the side of the road, some yards from me.
They were military police and I swallowed in nervous anticipation. The driver and front seat passenger were young men around my age, but the two in the rear seat were much older, wearing sidearms and batons.
The two older men leapt from the vehicle as though a state of emergency existed, both were short and heavy types. One had a face that looked as though it had been trampled on, heavily jowled, with a flat broad nose that resembled a gorilla. The other looked handsome in comparison, but it soon became apparent who was in charge. The gorilla man spoke in a rich southern American accent.
“What are you doing here?”
“Just walking,” I replied, but was taken completely off guard and had no time for defense as I felt the blow of a baton striking my head, Stepping aside, I felt blood trickle down my neck and the sensation prompted me to reach up and wipe it away with my hand.
“Don’t be bloody smart with me!” It was the gorilla man again. “You goddam Pommies need to be taught a lesson. I’ll ask you once again, what are you doing here?” I hesitated, the anger was beginning to mount inside me and I was doing my best to quell it, at the same time my instinct was preparing me for more blows.
“I’ve told you, just walking,” which prompted further blows from the baton across my body and face. Reeling backwards, I fell to the ground on my back and looking up I saw the young driver stand up.
“Steady on Sarge!” he called out, “I think he’s telling the truth.” This brought a violent rebuke from the gorilla man, and the young driver promptly sat down with a sheepish look on his face. Picking myself up, I felt as though my body had been trampled on by a herd of cows, but I now concentrated all my attention towards the gorilla man and my rage was beginning to surface.
“You’re nothing but a pig and a bully!” I shouted, as I positioned himself defensively. The gorilla man lunged forward again with his baton, but I was now ready to fight back. I saw the surprise on his face as I stepped forward instead of retreating. Wrenching the baton from his hand I thrust it into his stomach, then stepping backwards I threw the baton with all my force at him, momentarily watching it bounce off his upper body. Instantly turning, I ran into the forest knowing that I could easily outdistance the older men, and very soon found myself dodging between the trees at breakneck speed
Pictures of the Aden affair kept flashing into my head and my heart was pounding As I ran, the birds were scattering amongst the trees, and the forest had now changed from a scenic pleasure, into a nightmare. Stopping to catch my breath, I strained to listen for sounds of the soldiers Another quick look at the position of the sun convinced me that I was heading in the right direction back to the ship, but within minutes I burst into a grassy clearing. Keeping undercover, I scanned the area.
A small shack, with outbuildings and sundry farm equipment, could be seen on the opposite side of the clearing. Taking one last look over the open area I was about to take off when suddenly the jeep appeared at house. I froze, and then stepped back deeper into the cover of the trees.
The two young soldiers got out and approached the house. Thank heavens I didn’t go! I thought, as a man appeared and obviously engaged the soldiers in conversation, occasionally pointing around the clearing towards the trees. Disappearing back inside he reappeared carrying a shotgun, and getting into the jeep with the others, they drove back up the road into the forest. I shivered at the thoughts that were going through my mind. What provoked the farmer to get his shotgun? With my heart pounding, I strode out into the open, feeling with every step that I was being watched by a thousand eyes, but I knew that it would be fatal to start running, which would only tend to highlight my position.
At the point of no return I was practically a nervous wreck, furtively looking in every direction as the tension continued to mount, the desire to run almost engulfing me, but each step was now taking me closer to my objective and I slowly began to take control of my panic.
Approaching the vicinity of the outbuildings, I stopped to take a final look around when the still air was shattered by the loud barking of a dog coming from inside. Rooted to the spot, I knew that I should be on the move, but it was as though rigor mortis had set in.
The banging of the shack door shocked my system back to reality as a man appeared running outside, carrying a shotgun. I took off towards the cover of the forest, but not before I heard the roar of the gun and a sound that was familiar to me, which were dozens of fast fizzing sounds of the lead shot as it spread out behind me. I had heard it many times before, during the pheasant and partridge shoots, as a boy back in England. Now at top speed the distance between me and the edge of the forest was closing fast, and looking behind, I could still see the man running with his gun at the ready, but to my relief he had not had time to let the dog out.
Within yards of the trees an instantaneous bang and a more intensive cacophony of fizzing sounds erupted and this time, I felt a biting sensation in my left leg. I knew that I had picked up a stray pellet or two, but it was not impairing my ability to run, and very soon I was amongst the cover of the trees. Getting enough cover behind me I stopped to inspect my leg, and found four reddish marks, two in the lower thigh, and two in my calf.
Blast! I’ll have to get medical attention before any poisoning sets in, and starting to run again it seemed only minutes before the banks of Chesapeake Bay appeared and I drew a sigh of relief. I knew that all I had to do now was follow the shoreline to my right, which would take me back to the ship, but before I had time to move a large dog bounded through the trees towards me and I recognized the breed as a pointer, or an American bird dog.
I knew what I had to do to prevent getting bitten. Stand perfectly still, show no fear, and try to exert some authority. Keeping my hands high I shouted, “back, back!” as loud as I could. The dog moved back some three feet or so with its head thrust forward in typical pointer stance.
“Goddam it, he knows how to handle my dawg!”
I looked up to see the farmer with his shotgun now pointed at me, accompanied by the two elder MP’s, gorilla man and his associate, both with their service pistols drawn. The farmer took charge of his dog and gorilla man spoke, making a menacing movement with his pistol.
“Get on your knees and put your hands behind your head,” he ordered. I did as I was told, as I felt the pinpoints of shot in my leg burning, and I was quickly checked for weapons. “What do you have to say for yourself now?”
“Just one thing. What’s it feel like to have less intelligence than a bird dog?” - referring to the dog’s ability to track him down. I felt the full force of gorilla man’s army boot in my side, sending me rolling in pain amongst the pine needles. I rolled over and looked up.
“You’re a bigger pig and bully than I called you before!” I shouted, rolling over again to try to avoid another kick as I felt the boot glance off my shoulder and across my cheek, followed by several more blows as I lay on the ground. They were sharp and short on contact and I realized that I was being hit with the pistol and I was scared stiff that the gun would go off. Finally, crawling temporarily out of harm's way, I half sat up in a daze as the farmer spoke again in a rich southern accent.
“They Limey’s are sure divils for punishment, ain’t they?” But his voice was hesitant and uncertain, indicating that he was not too happy with what was going on. The young driver of the jeep appeared, and looking at me turned to gorilla man.
“Sarge, this man is injured!”
I interjected. “I’ve been shot in the leg by him,” pointing to the farmer.
The farmer was taken aback and pointing to gorilla man, shouted. “You told me he was a spy!”
Gorilla man went berserk, and shouted profanities at the jeep driver. “Get back to the jeep, I’ll deal with you later!”
“Yes Sir.” The young soldier disappeared quickly down an incline nearby.
The MP’s took me by the arms and pulling me to my feet forced me in the direction that the jeep driver had taken. Every step was a painful experience and trying to negotiate the incline I fell once again, rolling down to the bottom of the slope, stopping only a few yards from the jeep, which was parked on a track leading to the water’s edge.
I was picked up and thrown into the well section face downwards, between the front and rear seats. The two older MP’s jumped into the back seat using me as a foot rest. The jeep reversed, turned, and made its way up the rough track towards the road.
Every once in a while, I could feel the weight of gorilla’s boots, rising and falling like sledge hammers, on my neck and back, as he vented out his anger. The pitching and rolling of the jeep changed to a steady vibration, indicating that they were now back on the tarmac road. I was constantly bracing myself against the hammering from the boots, determined not to let one single cry escape to give pleasure to the gorilla man, but it seemed to be unrelenting.
The jeep skidded and came to a halt. Feeling a grip around my ankles, I steeled himself as I was pulled out of the jeep like a log of wood, my chin striking the doorstep, snapping my head backwards as I fell on to the roadway Trying to get up on my knees, another kick in the side of my ribs. Eventually, getting on to my hands and knees, the scene which confronted me was familiar. I was back at landing and the ship!
Unable to get to my feet at that time, I continued to crawl past the guards. What was happening seemed unbelievable to them and they remained rooted to the spot. Even though I felt sick and exhausted, the mere fact that I was within sight of the ship gave me new life. Finally managing to get to my feet, I staggered uncertainly down the wooden planking of the landing towards the ship, when I became aware of someone staggering towards me in the opposite direction.
It was the second officer, and as he passed me, I could see the fixed look of anger on his face. Turning to see where he was going, I lost my balance, and fell into a sitting position where I watched him making his way down the landing, and saw to my amazement that he had a large caliber service revolver in his hand.
The jeep with the MP’s inside was at that time reversing to make their exit, but the second officer raised the gun, and fired two shots into the air. The MP’s in the jeep jumped out and took cover, and the two guards ran into their hut.
It was like watching a movie, but now there were several crew members gripping my arms and legs, lifting me into the air to carry me back on board to my bunk. The activity around me was now intense, I could feel my body starting to shake, and no matter how I tried, it seemed impossible to stop. I was not aware that I was going into shock.
A doctor from shoreside arrived quite soon. He was a small, thin, quietly spoken man, carrying the usual black bag. The severe shivering, had by now subsided into a mild tremor. After an examination and first-aid to the various cuts, it was ascertained that the shotgun pellets were only just under the surface of the skin, and they could be removed on the spot.
My body was covered in red weal's from the baton, gun and army boot, but the skin under my clothes had not been broken. I was going to have multiple bruises for some time to come. The cuts on my lip, face and ear had swollen, and looking in the mirror I resembled a prize-fighter that had taken a heck of a lot of punishment in the boxing ring! It hurt to laugh or smile as my sense of humor began to return.
“There’s nothing broken,” the doctor concluded, “I’ll need to see you again in a couple of days. Do you wish to file a formal complaint?” I hesitated; it had not entered my mind. After a prolonged pause the doctor continued, “You have genuine cause, but in any case, I I have to put in my medical report for the record.”
“No, I don’t think I will. I was at fault for disobeying orders in the first place.”
“But that didn’t warrant the beating you received,” the doctor countered, “in the meantime, should you have any problems, don’t hesitate to call me.”
Directly after the doctor had gone the second officer appeared, and I soon concluded why my step had been so uncertain when they passed on the landing. The smell of whiskey permeated the cabin.
“How are you faring Bonner?”
“I’ll survive sir, but I disobeyed orders. What’s going to happen to me now?”
“Nothing, unless the American military brings it up and under the circumstances, I don’t think they wilI. Your escapade has created quite a stir out in the community, and I think it wilI result in us being allowed ashore from now on.”
“Perhaps threatening them with a loaded revolver might have had something to do with that sir!”
The second officer smiled. “Just you take things easy for a day or two, but you can rest assured that we won’t be taking the matter any further, as far as you are concerned.” “Thank you, Sir!”
What a relief! I thought, as the cabin finally became silent. My aches and pains were now coming to the fore but the feeling of exhaustion soon took over and I fell into a deep sleep.
Awakening abruptly the following morning, I soon discovered that my body had completely stiffened up. Painfully and slowly, I made my way through to the dining-room for breakfast, where I was inundated with questions. The chef John Simpson, came through from the galley.
“Have you heard?” he called out loudly, “it’s fairly definite that we wilI be allowed ashore for the remainder of our stay here. Sorry you had to get beat up WilI, but we all think it was worth it!” Everyone roared with laughter
Back in my cabin I decided to write a letter home, but I was interrupted. “There are people from ashore to see you, they are in the captain’s cabin.
” What now? I thought. I hope there’s no further trouble as I would dearly like to see the whole affair behind me.
I knocked on the captain’s cabin door, not knowing what I would encounter. I felt the same sensation, I had experienced prior to my interrogation in Gourock. I tentatively opened the door and stepped inside.
Everyone looked up as I entered.
The second officer was busy talking to two ladies, and a wiry looking man, he recognized instantly as the farmer who had shot him in the leg, standing to one side, dressed in his Sunday best for the occasion.
The two ladies, one of large stature, the other petite, both I estimated, were in their late forties or early fifties.
“These people have asked to have a word with you Bonner,” and the second officer gestured towards them as he left the room. I was totally unprepared for what was about to happen next.
The petite woman looked across the room at my swollen face and burst into tears. She was quickly consoled by the other woman as I stood transfixed, not quite knowing what to do next. But the farmer approached me.
“I’ve come to say how sorry I am for what happened, and to ask what I can do to put things right.” I knew that the Sergeant I called Gorilla man had instigated the violence in the whole affair, and the farmer had been caught up in the fever of the moment.
“It must have taken some courage for you to come here, that puts things right for me. I’ve already put the incident behind me and I won’t be making any complaint.” Both men shook hands and the farmer left.
By this time the petite woman had composed herself and I thought she was about to speak, but the larger women took over the ongoing conversation.
We saw what happened at the end of the landing yesterday, and we are all ashamed. The doctor told us about your injuries and that you would not be putting in a complaint to the military.
” She hesitated for a moment and then carried on, “We have all been up to the Military Police barracks early this morning to complain, and the sergeant involved has been disciplined and transferred. The young jeep driver told his superiors what happened.”
I was surprised how quickly these women had responded to the situation, and in such a positive way. She had more to say.
“Arrangements are being finalized today, giving all the ship’s crew permission to go ashore wherever they want. My house is the one closest to the ship, the one with the swimming pool and I invite you to use it whenever you want, but first would you come over for a visit and a meal?”
“I’d be delighted.” The petite woman finally spoke, and in a faltering but firm voice, she reinforced her friend’s statements.
“We mustn’t let you go back home to England thinking badly about us.”
Back in my cabin I lay on my bunk, the recent happenings going around in my mind. The local women had brought things to a conclusion for me. I now felt relaxed and contented in my mind, and looking forward to the remainder of my stay in Chesapeake Bay.
The following afternoon and evening was spent at the house with the swimming-pool. I asked if I could bring Ted along, and his vivid Gordie accent delighted everyone. On the ensuing days I would arise each morning around 5 a.m. and run across to the pool for a swim and coupled with my walks through the forest and countryside, they were happy days.
A visit to the old colonial town of Williamsburg was a memorable occasion, one I would never forget. In comparison to before the incident with the military, the days now seemed to fly by, and in no time at all, extra activities on board, indicated that the captain was coming aboard the following day, and they would be sailing the morning after.
I went over to say goodbye to the locals I had met, and to thank them for their hospitality. My injuries were now well on the mend and I decided to walk over to visit the farmer.
Breaking into the clearing in the forest I could see him working on a piece of machinery, and as I approached the bird dog started to bark, but this time ran forward wagging its tail. The atmosphere, in comparison to my previous visit was serene, and I spent a pleasant hour chatting with him.
Early next morning my ship pulled away from the landing. I stayed on deck until the beautiful scenery of Chesapeake Bay receded out of sight, then set about my normal shipboard duties. The weather was to remain bright and sunny, and in a few days, they were passing through The Windward Passage to the Panama Canal.
The day to day routine was giving me plenty of opportunity to look back at my visit to the U.S.A., and prior to that, my experiences at Gourock, Algiers, Aden and Bombay, which were all connected. I felt relieved that every mile westward seemed to take me farther away from those influences, but this latest affair was also an incident with violence, although brought about by my own actions.
With the Panama Canal behind me the ship set course for Honolulu. I found it hard to comprehend how fortunate I was that I would soon be in Hawaii, and amongst other things be walking on the famous Waikiki beach.
If only it were tomorrow.