Did I Catch a Spy?

This is my mother's story. I am typing this from her own handwriting dated 22 January 1990. She died at the age of 93in 1998:-

The scene is Wandsworth 1939. I remember the announcement on the radio that shocked me as I was preparing to evacuate with my two children aged nine and three on our way to the assembly point, i.e. Alfarthing Lane School. The first sirens of the war went off and a warden told us to hurry up off the street. This we did.

Later we were assembled on a nearby station. I was issued with a Southern Railway ticket, I still have it, No.46O89, and it was with some trepidation that we boarded the train not knowing how long the journey would be, in fact we landed at Godalming and were herded into a local school and collected by the ladies who were to be our hostesses for duration of the war. So we ended up in a Lagonda driving up the Portsmouth Road to the house named Garden Cottage.

And so it came to pass that I was sitting in the lounge waiting to hear the 9 o'clock news when a knock came to the door. Mrs Hanning answered it and there were two Australian officers looking a bit embarrassed. They were invited in and they revealed that they were recruiting volanteers to help at the hospital, but not for nursing.

Apparently, there was a contingent of Australian nurses due at the King George V Sanitorium near Godalming. The Australians had set up a hospital in a nearby annexe and volanteers were needed to help in the nurses dining quarters.

We were in a quandary. I had two children, the youngest aged 3 and Mrs Hanning was expecting her first, but she kindly offered to mind them so that I could go and help.

There was no bus service down those lanes so she bought me a bicycle and then in a short space of time,and after having been given directions,I appeared at the dining hall ready for duty.

There were some locals already there and, after introductions, I was given the scheme for working which consisted of table clearing and washing up for the nurses who had been given the title of Sisters on landing here.

Then there were rules. The locals had decided that the last comers were to do or help with the washing up.

The sink was situated at a large window and as I took my turn I could see soldiers in Hospital Blue strolling around the grounds. Their Unit was stationed at Colchester.

One morning a racy sports car squealed to a halt under the window. It was our latest recruit. It was a lovely day and the window was wide open and this person announced in an impeccable County accent that was so so British, "My name is Zelma and I have come to help, just call me Zelma", she said and zoomed off to park her car. She did not mind taking her turn at the sink and, in fact, insisted that it should be her regular job. So far so good.

The weather was lovely and occasionally a soldier would stroll over to cadge a cup of tea or a piece of pie. That was O.K. but they did not seem to understand the seriousness of the situation and they talked too much and, to Zelma's apparant delight, answered her questions. She would ask them which ship brought them over and had they brought their own armaments? In fact, questions that I did not like.

I spoke about this to one of the ladies and she had noticed it as well.

One afternoon between meals Zelma asked some of us up to her place for coffee and so we all piled into her car and drove to a detached house which we entered by a small wicket gate, and what a wierd house it was.

If I remember rightly we toured the ground floor while coffee was being made. It was pretty strange, to say the least. I can remember rooms being painted in colour wash distemper in very distateful colours and there was a parrot in a cage.

I remember slipping out the back door onto a veranda and decided to do a bit of exploring. It was a large garden, very neglected and amid the tall gross I came to what looked like a grave, but longer, wider and deeper, at least that was the impression I got at the time.

I returned to the house and continued to chat. I don't think that I had been missed. In fact,I certainly did not linger after having spotted the hole as I prefer to call it.

Soon after that, when Zelma was having a day off I sneaked round to the C.O's office. I think he was called Major Maughen. I went in rather diffidently and stated my case and suspicions. I remember saying to him that I did not want to waste his time.

The major said that he had received complaints about this person before and arranged for me to meet him outside on the road so that I could show him what I had seen. This I did. All was quiet and in a few minutes an army truck appeared. When we arrived at the house he sent the driver up the road and told him to come back later. After waiting for the truck to disappear round a corner he said "wait here out of sight for a few minutes because I am going to the house openly, knock on the door and if any one answers I will say I am looking for temperary quarters for officers who have just arrived in England".

No one answered his knock and through the hedge I saw him go round to the back. In a few minutes he came back and asked me to show him what I had seen. When I showed him the hole he said "let's get out of here".

The driver had re-appeared and we were driven back. After dismissing the truck driver he asked me to follow him into his office and after thanking me he asked me not to mention our visit to anyone.

I met the major only one more time and he told me that men were being posted in the bush and it was the first time ever that I had heard the word 'bush' spoken in that context.

I often wonder what the end of it all was. Zelma was not seen again at the hospital. Maybe she was a Fifth Columnist, I dont know and I did not think it good policy to ask.

I am now 84 and I thought the story would interest someone at Australia House.

Yours sincerely

Mary Morris

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