England – Cousin Neil's Bren gun

In July, I spent three days with Cousin Neil at his home in West Sussex, in the south of England. Neil’s mother, Annabella, and my father, Charlie, were first cousins, which makes Neil and me second cousins, but I always call him Cousin Neil. (He and I have a shared interest in our family heritage, the MacKenzies of Lochcarron, but we have not got far, as MacKenzies are numerous up there).

Cousin Neil is unused to house guests, and I am out of practice with sharing meal preparation, but once we had worked out some menus – Neil is traditional British in his tastes – we settled into a good rhythm. At breakfast time, I made porridge in the microwave while Neil took care of the tea and toast. For lunch, we had poached eggs the first day; a country pub meal of battered cod, peas and chips washed down with a cider shandy the second day; and sandwiches of egg and cress, and roast beef and pickle, accompanied by a pot of tea, at a country café on the third day.  The first evening, Neil prepared a dinner of mackerel from his well-stocked freezer, accompanied by cabbage, and potatoes boiled in their skins and served with plenty of butter; and for dessert, there were plump canned blackberries and vanilla ice cream. I enjoyed this meal so much that I requested an exact repetition the second evening.   On the third evening, we went out for a roast beef dinner at a pub.

Back in May, I had ordered eight paperback copies of my novel Deserter to be sent c/o Neil. 

“I was hooked as soon as I read the passage on cleaning a Bren gun,” Neil said. “How did you get it so authentic?”

It had been nearly five years since I wrote that passage, and I had to stop and think. “Research.” I said, “Far too much research – on the internet, in books, talking to people.”

Neil has a large collection of World War II books, weapons and memorabilia. He exhibits annually at the War and Peace show in Kent and has found that visitors are particularly attracted to his Bren guns (he owns two). We talked about why Bren guns arouse such interest, and I told him about a retired doctor friend of mine who, on reading an early draft of Deserter, became animated when discussing the Bren gun passage. It reminded him of his army cadet days in Christchurch just after World War II; the teacher was a veteran who fired the boys’ imaginations by darting from tree to tree with a Bren. 

My brother, Paul, also handled Bren guns – he dismantled and reassembled them when he was a cadet in the Air Training Corps in the 1960s. "The Brens were used by the ATC because they were interesting and available", Paul said.  He remembers being tested on use of the Bren and enjoying the technical challenge.  The cadets also fired Brens on the rifle range. “You lay down on the ground behind them, and under rapid fire they had the tendency to pull you forward.”

On my second day in West Sussex, Neil and I had just returned home from a visit to Weald and Downland Living Museum – and my mind was full of oak timbers, conservation builders and Elizabethan cottages – when Neil appeared with a Bren gun, and placed it on the floor. “Here, you can take this apart. Someone who has read your novel might ask how it’s done.”

Photo: Ann Barrie

Bren guns were the last thing on my mind at that moment, and I felt less than enthusiastic, but Neil was encouraging. “I’ll help you. We’ll lay a towel on the carpet for you to spread the parts, because there’ll be some grease. But get the feel of the gun first.”

Photo: Ann Barrie 

With Neil's help I dismantled the gun:

Photo: Ann Barrie

And got it back together again:

Photo: Ann Barrie collection

My only previous experience in handling guns was when, towards the end of writing Deserter, I went to some introductory sessions at the Wellington Small Bore Rifle Club. After the compulsory safety talk, I was allowed to choose a rifle, and shoot at target under supervision. Here are the guns that beginners can borrow – I chose Neville, of course.

Photo: Ann Barrie

After a few weeks at the club, I decided I lacked the patience to continue with the sport, but those sessions helped me appreciate the power of guns and the need for strict safety precautions. 

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I would imagine that Neil is popular with the public when exhibiting at shows, as he is knowledgeable and patient, and has memorabilia and models to suit all ages.  

Photo: Ann Barrie

Another thing he organises is a memorial corner featuring his family's military history:

Photo: Neil Rowland

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Neil had a long career as a railway signalman. I'll conclude this post with three of Neil's photos of signal boxes, along with his description of the first one: 

"The photo with me at the frame is Gatwick, where I was the box boy. My job was to book the times of the trains, answer the phones and keep the place clean. Once the signalman had taught you the frame, you would work the box most of the time unless a manager or someone else came up, then you would just do your job & make the tea. You were not meant to work a box until you were 18 and had passed at the school." 

Gatwick signal box. Photo: Neil Rowland

This second box interior is Hove, where Neil worked for many years:

Hove signal box. Photo: Neil Rowland

Photo of Hove signal box looking down the line to the railway station:

Hove signal box. Photo: Neil Rowland

Blog by Ann Barrie

Fort Myers FL – Happy 94th birthday, Aunt Vee

Vee Andree – New Zealand-born, war bride of World War II – will turn 94 on November 18, 2017. My cousin, Su Scognamiglio, tagged me on this recent photo of her Mom, my Aunt Vee.

Vee Andree, October 2017. Photo: Tami Scognamiglio-Diglio

I had the pleasure of spending four nights with Vee at her home in Fort Myers in July of this year. I did not take her to the hair dresser, or to Mass, even though her Oldsmobile was parked outside her condominium, as I don’t drive in America, but the two of us pottered around happily together. Here is a photo I took of Vee enjoying the sunshine in her courtyard: 

Vee Andree, Fort Myers FL, July 2017. Photo: Ann Barrie

I'm going to tell you a little about Vee’s family history. Her parents – Margaret MacKenzie, a Scottish nurse from Lochcarron, and New Zealand sergeant Charles John Herbert – were married in Queen’s Park parish in Glasgow on June 6, 1919, and they travelled to New Zealand on the Corinthic in August 1919.  

Charles John Herbert and Margaret MacKenzie, Glasgow 1919. Photo: Herbert family collection.

Charles worked with the Public Works Department, and so the family moved around New Zealand, settling first in Cromwell, Central Otago. This was where Vee’s older brother, Charlie, my father, was born. 

Vee was born Violet Margaret Herbert in Matata, which is on the east coast of the North Island, on November 18, 1923. She was a frail baby – her Aunt Chrissie and Uncle Jack, who minded her while her mother recovered from the birth, had to carry her round on a pillow – but she proved very resilient. 

Violet and Charlie Herbert with their mother Margaret, 1925. Photo: Herbert family collection.

Sadly, Margaret MacKenzie died when Vee was only thirteen and Charlie was fifteen. Their father purchased a house in Riccarton, Christchurch, and arranged for a housekeeper so Vee and Charlie could finish their high school education. 

After the outbreak of World War II, Charlie Senior knocked eight years off his age, enlisted with the N.Z. Railway Operating Company and sailed off to war again. He and Vee were very close, and he wrote to her from Egypt.  He died there on February 1, 1941. 

 Sergeant Charles John Herbert, Egypt, 1941. Photo: Herbert family collection

Charlie Junior joined the R.N.Z.A.F. and went to Canada to train as a navigator, and Vee joined the W.A.A.F. in 1943. She used to attend the U.S.O. in Lambton Quay, Wellington, and there she met Douglas R. Andree from Iron River, Michigan. The two were married in Auckland on February 11, 1944, and then Doug returned to active service with the U.S. Navy in the Pacific.

Douglas R. Andree and Vee Herbert, Oriental Bay, 1944. Photo: Vee Andree collection.

Charlie Junior returned home from his overseas service in early 1946, and brother and sister were photographed together in Wellington shortly afterwards.

Vee Andree with her brother Charlie Herbert, Wellington 1946. Photo: Herbert family collection

Later that year Vee sailed alone to America to join her husband. Her new life was a steep learning curve. “I had never learned to cook and so I bought a cook book and found someone to teach me.”

Vee and Doug lived first in California, where my Cousin Su was born on November 4, 1947. Doug’s naval career then took them to Havana – Cousin Richard was born in Key West in 1950 – and later to San Francisco; Kodiak, Alaska; and then Staten Island NY for twenty years. Vee has five grandchildren, all of whom adore her, and she has great grandchildren too.

Vee has lived in Fort Myers FL since the late 1970s. She has always embraced life with both hands. “I belonged to everything – always have.” Vee has had careers in several fields including real estate in New York. She has always done voluntary work – Girl Scouts, the American Red Cross, the Edison Museum and more. She enjoys the arts and is very creative. Vee visited New Zealand several times to visit her beloved Aunt Lettie, who lived to be 107, and also her friends Ngai and Jock Ainsworth, all of whom lived in Christchurch. 

Vee Andree with Lettie Herbert and Ngai & Jock Ainsworth, Christchurch. Photo: Vee Andree.

For years Vee would telephone my husband Bill and me every month. “Hello, Miss Ann,” she would say. It would be the early hours of the morning in Florida, and I would quiz her about family history, and we would chat at length. 

My son Charles and I visited Vee in Fort Myers in 2013. I presented Vee with the R.N.Z.A.F. flag that I had, at her request, ordered from a New Zealand flag maker (she had been doing some advance planning for her funeral). We enjoyed Vee's lively company. Just before I took the following photo, she instructed Charles to say, “Sex”:

Charles Barrie and Vee Andree, Fort Myers FL, 2013. Photo: Ann Barrie

Then Charles flew to Jamaica, and I stayed on with Vee. She took me with her to visit the “elderly” at the Assisted Living Facility, and also to St Luke’s Episcopal Church where she is an active member, and she hammed it up for me in her Halloween costume. 

Vee Andree, Fort Myers FL, 2013. Photo: Ann Barrie

Vee Andree, Fort Myers FL, 2013. Photo: Ann Barrie

We also talked of many things – how her mother was a career woman at heart, for instance – almost as if I was Vee’s contemporary.

My visit to Vee in July of this year was poignant, as she has had some health set backs, but her spirit is undimmed, and she is elegant as ever. And I found it rather nice, at age 70, to be given a mild scolding by my Aunt, “Ann, I’m wondering if I should speak to you about your drinking.” No, darling Vee, there’s no need. It was just so good to be sharing a single malt with you.”

Vee Andree, Fort Myers FL. Photo: Vee Andree collection

Happy Birthday, Aunt Vee

Buon compleanno

Feliz cumpleaños

Blog by Ann Barrie