Mary Liddell was more than willing to watch the girls, who enjoyed playing with Jenny’s daughters. It provided Eric and Flo much-needed time to steal away for dinner or a film or simply to talk without interruption. The streets of Edinburgh were darkened due to fear of air raid bombings. But for the two lovers desperate to reconnect, the necessities of war provided an oddly romantic backdrop.
Sooner than either he or Florence liked, Eric had to return to his speaking schedule, but he managed to ease the pace a bit with his family near him. Flo spent her time away from her husband looking after the girls and following up on correspondence. Her letters revealed that not every relationship within the Camelot of the Liddells’ castle was without differences. In a letter she wrote to her sister Margaret, she penned,
Mrs. Liddell is fine and we get along very well together. She has failed a lot since we saw her ten years ago but she is really very energetic. She thinks I underclothe the children but we haven’t come to blows yet!! . . .
Eric goes away again this Sat. and then I’ll try and get some work done!! The children will hardly let Eric out of their sight. We’re all having the time of our lives and enjoying life immensely. . . .
Cheery-bye for now. Try and find a minute to send me a scratch.
Your ever loving sister, Flo.[67]
[65] D. P. Thomson, Scotland’s Greatest Athlete: The Eric Liddell Story (Barnoak, Crieff, Perthshire, Scotland: Research Unit, 1970), 163.
[66] Ibid., 168.
[67] Ibid., 217.
CHAPTER 18
KEEP CALM AND CARRY ON
God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.
Psalm 46:1
May 1940
Eric strolled behind his daughters, who skipped along the stone fencing in the estate belonging to his sister and her husband, drinking in the hills and glens around him—the bleating of sheep, the morning songs and twittering of birds, and the giggles of his girls.
They’d so needed this time, he and Florence. He and Florence, Tricia and Heather. When Jenny had suggested that his family come to Carcant—when she’d boasted of the thousand acres and the small family cottage perfect for respite—he’d not hesitated for a moment to say yes.
Every day, the girls ran wild through the green countryside, laughing and playing with their extended family. If he only gave them this time and nothing more during their furlough in England, he hoped it would be enough—enough to last them a lifetime.
A sudden stop in their playing drew his attention to a tiny creature a few yards away, bunny ears up, nose quivering. Tricia turned to him and whispered, “Daddy . . . a rabbit . . .”
A rabbit indeed. And that meant rabbit stew.
Like a flash Eric bolted, as did the rabbit, scurrying along the line of the fence. But Eric was faster, and within seconds he had the furry bunny clasped in his hands. “Daddy, you caught it!” he heard as one hand gripped its neck to snap it.
He hadn’t thought. He hadn’t anticipated what little girls might think of such an act. They didn’t mind eating meat, but they’d never seen it before it was butchered.
His head spun to meet their horrified gazes.
“Daddy!” Tricia cried. “You killed it!”
“Now, girls,” Eric said, struggling to find a way to ease their upset, “you should know that if you sprinkle a little salt on a rabbit’s tail, it slows them down, and you can catch them.”
Patricia turned to Heather with a start. “Hurry!” she squealed, turning back toward the house. “Let’s go get some saltshakers!”
DURING THESE WARM and lazy days, as Eric and his family enjoyed the sheer beauty of life together, Rob Liddell worked on a personal conundrum of his own. Young James Ralph’s health issues continued. For Rob, the thought of leaving his children again, one of whom suffered physically, was a tough call. World War II and the precarious situation in the Far East did not settle him or Ria. With remorse and exhaustion, Rob reached out to the London Missionary Society, asking for a quiet release from his duties. The LMS understood the difficult circumstances and reluctantly granted his request.
After returning to Edinburgh, Eric and Florence absorbed the unanticipated news. Eric lamented the impending result of his brother’s decision but could not argue with his reasoning.
Eric continued his deputation speeches on behalf of the LMS as his deadline to return to China approached.
At one such meeting, Eric clearly laid out the situation in China:
Even before the war, there was a considerable amount of illicit trade between Manchuria and North China. I have watched heroin runners in operation, not even challenged on the railways because of a desire not to give offence. Now that the Chinese Customs are controlled by the invaders, the cities are being flooded with Japanese goods at prices which no other nation can compete with.
When it comes to education, the Japanese have come to the conclusion that from education we will achieve the greatest sense of patriotism, which is something new in China. The Chinese give their loyalty to family rather than country. . . .
The Japanese feel that they must control the schools, while the universities suffered much worse. I, myself, saw one bombed to bits in Tientsin two and a half years ago.
We see a good deal of guerilla warfare along the railway lines. One day, a band of roving Chinese removed a few rails from the tracks—they believe they will win the war this way. The Japanese promptly replaced them and immediately sacked the adjacent village. Over such an extended territory there could be up to 100 fights like this every single day.
In Siaochang we gave the combatants medical aid, but
