Raucous cheering broke out when an announcement came over the public address system to confirm the new record and this was followed by repeated singing of ‘Rule Britannia’, which was conducted with great gusto by a huge, red-haired Scot standing on top of one of the lifeboats with his kilt swirling in a lively breeze.
Two ear-splitting blasts from the ship’s horn put an end to that, however, and signalled the start of an endless procession of hundreds of men from ship to shore that ended when they were marched to a demobilisation centre where they were issued with rail tickets.
As time wore on Basil became more and more frustrated because he had dreamed for days on the voyage from Singapore of how quickly he would phone his parents and Madge after setting foot back on English soil for the first time since 1943. He had even changed money on the Andes to ensure he would have coins for the call, but there was a problem. The queues for the phones were enormous and he became increasingly worried that by the time he did get through, her shift at the nursing home would be long over, so he simply got the train from Southampton Central to Woking. When he arrived at his front door, he gave his mother and father the nicest of shocks because the letter he mailed to them hadn’t arrived and the boat had docked almost a week early anyway.
Almost as soon as he had greeted his parents and dropped his bags in the hallway, Basil picked up the phone to Madge, who ran to the telephone when she was told she had a call.
‘Hello? Basil? Is that you?’
‘Yes, it’s me, darling Madge. I’m home!’
Madge held a hand over her mouth to suppress a sob of delight. ‘Oh Basil, that’s the most wonderful news ever! When can I see you?’
It seemed there were yet more obstacles in the couple’s way when Madge remembered that she was supposed to be working all weekend. Grace, however, came to the rescue.
When Madge put the phone down from Basil, looking forlorn at not having been able to arrange when they could see each other, Grace asked her what was wrong.
‘Oh, stop worrying, Madge,’ Grace said once Madge had explained the situation. ‘After what we’ve been through together, the least I can do is change my days off and fill in for you. I know you’d do the same for me.’
Madge practically squealed with delight as she threw her arms around Grace to thank her.
Madge called her mother and Basil and the big reunion was scheduled for late Friday afternoon at the Graves’ family home in Union Road, Dover. However, it didn’t turn out to be the big romantic scene Madge had had in her mind. When Lily told Doris that Basil was coming she arranged to leave the farm in East Grinstead early so she would be home when he arrived, and Doreen held top-level discussions with her school friends about the situation! The result was that when Basil knocked on the door just after 6 p.m. on the Friday evening there was an unholy scramble between the sisters to give him the once-over. He gave Madge a great big hug in spite of the audience, and that was that. They all loved him!
Basil had arrived at Southampton to a dry if somewhat chilly spell, but by the middle of January 1947 it had turned into the coldest winter of the twentieth century with heavy snow, and blizzards in the Channel. A month later there were three-foot-deep snow drifts and it became officially the coldest ever February, with March being the wettest.
Snow was the biggest worry in Kent, which was particularly badly affected, and because Madge and Basil could meet only every other weekend travel was a major problem. But whenever they were able to spend time together, the couple made the most of it, going on real dates where they talked and spent time getting to know each other in a normal environment, and during this time their love really began to blossom.
In a bizarre twist of events, however, an opportunity arose in which they would end up staying under the same roof. It happened when Basil was being medically examined at Aldershot Garrison in connection with his discharge from the army. He was told that if he wanted an A1 discharge to show on his demobilisation papers, he needed to have his infected tonsils removed, otherwise it would be B2.
His biggest problem, however, was that he couldn’t find a doctor to carry out the operation. A specialist surgeon connected to the maternity home in Birchington, where Madge was nursing, said he would remove the tonsils if he could use their medical facilities. The result was that Basil had his tonsils out in the maternity home’s main delivery room, and because of a complication he wasn’t released for ten days, much to Madge’s delight!
Dr Bowie, the anaesthetist, told Basil the day after the operation that he had had such a problem getting him under that he had left the theatre and asked if anybody had a mallet! What he had actually done was to drip ether directly onto the mask.
‘Isn’t it wonderful to be able to spend time together after so many months apart?’ said Madge, who had slipped away from her duties for a quick chat with her beloved.
‘I’m far from a pretty sight, though, aren’t I?’ laughed Basil, who then winced in pain. The ether in the general anaesthetic had burned his lips and he had ended up with a big and very painful red ring around his mouth. ‘I’ve been told all I can eat for the next ten days is ice cream, but I suppose that’s no real hardship,’ he said with a wink. He couldn’t help thinking of the
