Gillian In Gibraltar

Copyright Oggbashan October 2019

The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.

Some of the dialogue is assumed to be in Spanish but the meaning is given in English.

***

Gillian had adopted me, Geoffrey, as her younger brother when my sister Elizabeth died at age 14 suddenly from Polio. Gillian and Elizabeth had been best friends and academic rivals at primary school. They were the tallest pupils at that school and the most successful. Elizabeth was an inch or two taller and first academically in her year group to Gillian's near second. Both had won full scholarships to a local fee-paying independent girls' grammar school where they had been flourishing among their academic equals, consistently in the top third of their classes.

Gillian had often been in our house because my parents and their library could help with her studies. Our parents were upwardly mobile middle class. Her parents were skilled working class. My father was a civil servant working his way up the promotion ladder. Gillian's father had been a top-flight engine driver on the Southern Railway driving their largest engines, the Lord Nelson class, until a 1940 bomb had damaged his right eye and his stereo vision. He could no longer drive express trains at speed so was an engine driver in a London shunting yard.

My older brother Charles liked Gillian and she effectively became like the younger sister he had lost. He, I, and my parents could never replace Elizabeth who had been the brightest of the three children but we all could help Gillian in ways that her parents couldn't.

In the mid-1950s my father was appointed to a senior position in Gibraltar's garrison. My brother Charles, instead of doing his two year National Service, had signed up for three years in the Royal Navy. After training and a promotion he was now a Coder (educational) on a destroyer that was part of the Mediterranean fleet. He spent most of his time teaching some National Service ratings to read, write and do basic arithmetic, which skills they had failed to acquire at school. It could be frustrating but he managed with most and enjoyed their success.

The destroyer on which my brother was serving was scheduled for a one week engine overhaul in Gibraltar dockyard in three months' time. Almost all the crew would be on leave in Gibraltar but 48 hours was long enough to see all of Gibraltar's sights but my father could go into Spain with his CD plates. British seamen were told NOT to enter Spain because they might be harassed or arrested by Franco's Guardia Civil. But in my father's car, protected by the CD plates, Charles would have no problem if wearing civvies. He suggested to my father that it might be pleasant if Gillian, his informal adoptive sister, could come to Gibraltar at the same time.

There were a couple of problems. Gillian didn't have a passport, nor could she or her parents afford the cost of commercial air flights to and from Gibraltar. She was in her second year at university and the cost was barely affordable despite assistance from her parents and mine. She would be on vacation from university and later she would be working nights at a bakery but not until after the seven days that the destroyer would be Gibraltar. The passport was easily fixed. My father sent a cheque for the passport fees.

Transport was more difficult by my father was friendly with the RAF's Air Officer commanding, mainly because his son was my best friend at the preparatory school we were both attending. There would be an RAF transport plane coming to Gibraltar to arrive on the same day as my brother's destroyer. She could have free passage on that. At the end of the seven days an RFA small oil tanker would be going back to Portsmouth. My father was able to arrange for Gillian to be a passenger on that. Gillian, as the child, under 21, of an engine driver, had free travel on any British Railways train so she could get to the RAF base in England to catch the plane, and back from Portsmouth to her home with free train travel.

Gillian was the sole passenger on the RAF Dakota. She reported that she had been treated like royalty with an on-board meal and two RAF stewardesses to look after her. She was also startled to be whisked through Gibraltar's customs as immigration as a VIP and met by an official Royal Navy car to drive her to my parents' house. She hadn't appreciated my father's high status on Gibraltar. She was also surprised that we had a maid, Maria, to help her unpack and provide her with coffee. When she had visited us in England we had a small overcrowded mid-terrace house. Now we had a six bedroom official residence with a wing as maid's quarters.

My brother arrived a couple of hours later having travelled from the dockyard by local bus, wearing his naval uniform and carrying his kitbag. He had rejected my father's offer of an official Navy car from the dockside because he felt that might cause jealousy from the crew. Even the ship's captain didn't merit an official car.

He dropped his kitbag as Maria hugged him. He had visited us in Gibraltar before, and Maria liked him. He patted Maria on the head, which no other person was allowed to do. Maria accepted it because he was so tall.

"La Nina is nearly as tall as you, Charles," Maria said.

"Not quite," said Gillian, coming to stand beside Geoffrey.

It was true. With her high heels on, Gillian stood six feet three to Charles' six feet seven. Gillian kissed Charles on the cheek

"Even El Nino at ten years old is taller than me," Maria protested.

That was true too. At five feet three I was taller than Maria's five feet exactly.

"Is Gillian your intended?" Maria asked.

Both of them laughed.

"No, Maria," Charles answered. "She is my adopted younger sister, and older sister to Geoffrey."

"I was their sister Elizabeth's best friend," Gillian said. "and now I am their friend."

Maria looked disappointed.

My brother had changed into civvies by the time my father arrived home and we all sat down to a dinner prepared by Maria. Gillian expressed her thanks for the RAF flight and the official car.

"I've got the day off tomorrow and there is a festival in Tarifa, about half an hour by car from the border," my father said. You might enjoy it."

+++

The next day the five of us crossed the border from Gibraltar into Spain. Gillian was again startled that the Gibraltar border guards telephoned their opposite numbers in Spain when my father produced his official pass. We could see activity on the Spanish side. The border officials rushed out of their huts and stood by the side of the road, presenting arms, to which my father responded with a wave from the car window as we drove straight past with no check.

We arrived in Tarifa, a small town, barely more than a large village but the southernmost settlement in Spain and indeed the whole of Europe, about one o'clock. The whole town was decorated with flags and bunting. We sat down on tables outside a restaurant and ordered lunch. I had to order it, as my Spanish was much better than my parents' and very few people in Tarifa knew any English.

The town was thronged with people walking up and down in their traditional dress, the men in cutaway jackets and tight trousers, and the women in frilled long dresses with hair cover by a mantilla. We attracted a lot of attention because our car was the only one with Gibraltarian plates and even sitting down my father, Charles and Gillian were obviously much taller than any local.

After lunch, Charles and Gillian declined drinks, preferring to go for a walk around the town. We watched them for a long time because they were head and shoulder and more above all the locals. Eventually they disappeared out of sight, heading towards the church that would be the start and finish of the festival parade.

I ordered coffee for my parents and a Coca-Cola for me. Eventually I asked for the bill, which was very reasonable for five people. When we had paid it, and left a substantial tip, we set off to follow Charles and Gillian. The streets were much more crowded now but we should have been able to see Charles and Gillian standing tall well above anyone. We couldn't.

At last I asked a policeman if he had seen a very tall man and woman pass by.

"The Giant and Giantess? They are in the Church. The priest has asked then to be part of the procession."

That seemed odd to us but if they were in the church, that's where we would go. We had to push our way through the increasing crowds, particularly inside the church but we could see Charles and Gillian standing in front of a statue of the Virgin Mary placed on a massive carrying frame. A priest and two local were talking and gesturing at Charles and Gillian who obviously didn't understand what was being asked of them.

"Geoffrey!" Charles shouted. "Can you translate for us, please? I can't understand what this priest wants"

I spoke to the priest in Spanish. He was very relieved.

"It is a tradition," he said, "that the tallest man and woman in Tarifa carry the illuminated crosses in the procession to shine lights on the Virgin Mary. These two," he indicated the local man and woman standing beside him, "are the tallest locals and have been for several years."

I wasn't impressed. The man was about an inch taller than me, and the woman was my height.

"But your friends..."

"My brother and sister," I corrected.

"Are by far much taller than anyone else in Tarifa today except your father. I would like them to carry the crosses. So would these two. They would shine far better on the Virgin Mary than for many years."

"OK, father," I said. "I will ask them."

I explained to Charles and Gillian.

"OK," Charles said after consulting Gillian. "But we are both Church of England. We don't mind carrying the crosses but we don't want to take part in the service afterwards."

I explained to the priest who crossed himself at the mention of Church of England and the realisation that he had Protestants in his church. He swallowed visibly but was tempted.

"OK," he said. If you carry the crosses you can put them back in the sockets where they are now, and then leave before the Mass starts. Will that do? I really want them to carry the crosses because it will make the Virgin Mary much more visible during the procession, even if the crosses are carried by Protestants. God and the Virgin Mary will forgive me, I'm sure."

Charles and Gillian put on the leather harnesses to support the crosses. They had to let out to their furthest extent but even so did not come as far down their bodies as they had on last year's carriers. When they put the crosses into the harnesses the priest was ecstatic. They were at least two feet higher than they had ever been before.

We were approached by a cameraman. The priest explained, and I translated, that he was from the local paper. He wanted pictures of the Giant and Giantess, first on their own with the priest between them, then the three with me and my parents, and finally with the six of us and last year's tallest Tarifa people. My father asked me to enquire whether it was possible for a couple of copies of the local paper to be sent to him in Gibraltar. The cameraman, said, yes, for a fee, and prints of the photos. He quoted a cost of fifteen pesetas. My father gave him a fifty peseta note explaining he did not want change.

The cameraman wanted my father's address. I gave it. Three initials for my father's office and then just 'Gibraltar'. I assured him that address was sufficient from anywhere in the world. He also wanted our names. I asked my father to show him the official pass which gave his rank and office in Spanish, starting 'El Senor Don...'

The cameraman and priest were stunned and thereafter addressed my father very formally, but usually lost in my translation.

I had to join the procession too, walking between Charles and Gillian to translate any directions given by the priest. The procession took an hour before we re-entered the church, having walked through the total population of Tarifa and its surrounding villages. The illuminated crosses shone brilliantly on the statue of the Virgin Mary and there were many expressions of appreciation from the crowd. At the church, Charles and Gillian took off the crosses, fitted them into the sockets by the altar, handed the harnesses to an altar boy and left the church. It took some time for the three of us to leave because so many people wanted to express their thanks, all of which I had to translate.

We drove back to Gibraltar, were waved through customs and immigration on both sides, and back to a Maria-prepared evening meal.

The next three days were an anti-climax as Charles and Gillian went around the tourist sites of Gibraltar, including when accompanied by my father, many places such as the tunnels which were then off limits to non-service personnel. They were introduced to many of the senior officers of the garrison and their wives. Gillian was able to thank the Air Officer Commanding for her flight to Gibraltar.

The next day my father announced that we were all invited to the Port Admiral's Annual Ball. Charles protested that it was for officers and their wives only, not for ratings, no matter how senior.

My father replied that Charles and Gillian were going not as a rating but as part of his family, as was I. There would be a separate section of the dancing for younger children, but Charles and Gillian would be with the adults. Charles was still dubious, His ship's captain and officers would be there and that might be embarrassing.

It wasn't. The Port Admiral and his wife welcomed the guests. The Admiral said to Charles that he would like to talk to him later after all the gusts had arrived. I went to the children's area which was run by two school teachers from my school. I danced with several girls from my school and Miss Smithers, one of the teachers, who wasn't as tall as I am. Even so, I found her floor length ball gown impeding my feet.

I went into the main ballroom to get drinks for myself and my current partner, Christobel, one of the pupils from my class and the tallest girl. I passed Charles and Gillian who were talking to the destroyer's captain. I paused to overhear.

"Charles, I was easy to spot you. You are the tallest member of my ship's company and you seem to have found a young lady who is up to your height."

Charles introduced Gillian as his adopted sister. He turned to me.

"And this is our younger brother Geoffrey, Sir."

"You are here with your father?"

"Yes, he is over there, talking to your First Lieutenant, Sir," Charles said.

"And your father is? " The Captain mentioned my father's position in the garrison.

"Yes, Sir."

"I will have a word with him. I need a favour from him."

"I am sure, if he can, he will grant it to the captain of my ship. Sir."

"Thank you. I didn't appreciate the advantages of having you as part of my ship's company, Charles."

"My father has contacts throughout the garrison, Sir. If his department can't help, I am sure he will know someone who can."

"Thank you. I will bear that in mind."

At that point the Admiral's Flag Lieutenant approached and asked my brother to have a word with the Admiral.

"Goodbye, Charles. See you later," the destroyer captain said.

"I will introduce you to our father, Sir," I said.

"Sir?" He queried. "You're not part of my ship's company, Geoffrey,"

"No, Sir, but I have been taught to be polite to Naval Officers of whatever rank."

"Only Naval?"

"The Navy is the Senior Service, Sir. I am polite to the Governor and the Air Officer Commanding who is my friend's father but less respectful to ordinary army and air force officers. I still offer respect but not quite as punctilious, Sir."

"A very proper sentiment, Geoffrey."

I introduced him to my father and went off with Gillian to get drinks for me and Christobel. Gillian got herself a drink too and followed me into the children's room. I introduced her, as my sister, to the two teachers who had to look up a very long way. Gillian sat down beside Christobel and they talked about living on Gibraltar. I was able to add some things from time to time.

The three of us walked into the adults' ballroom. Christobel and I sat down to watch. My brother Charles was dancing with the Admiral's wife. Gillian left her drink with us and went to my father who was just finishing talking to Charles' captain. He asked her for a dance. He could just about see over her shoulder to lead. After their second dance he was tapped on the shoulder by the admiral who took Gillian for a dance. Or did she take him? He couldn't see past her at all and she had to lead.

Charles' captain asked Christobel for a dance and I was asked by one of our neighbour's wives. I could lead because I was slightly taller than she was. By the end of the evening Charles and Gillian had danced with almost everyone, and Christobel and I had been dancing with adults most of the time.

Christobel's parents collected her. Our parents were still talking to colleagues and friends so the three of us decided to walk back to the official residence. AQs we walked, Gillian asked Charles:

"What did the Admiral want to talk to you about, Charles, and why?"

"He wanted the view of an ordinary seaman. Normally he only gets to talk to them with a ship's officer hanging round so the conversation is limited. He wanted my views as a Coder (ED) on National Servicemen, and also on the future direction of the Navy, both as me and as my fathers' son."

"What did you say?"

"I said I thought many National Servicemen were a waste of Naval resources. Yes, I could improve their reading and writing etc., which would improve their employment prospects when they left the Navy, but we needed much more specialist skill than my students could ever have. A modern warship was far more technical than it had been and more vulnerable. I said that a machine gun bullet through a gunnery radar or navigational radar set would degrade a ship's fighting capacity far more than a six inch shell putting one gun turret out of action. The skills to repair that radar set were in very short supply and most National Service ratings couldn't be trained to that level.

He asked me whether I might re-join the Navy after university. I said that was unlikely even as an officer. There were two main reasons. The first and most important was that the size of the Navy's fleet was reducing and continuing to shrink. The prospects of promotion would shrink with the navy. The second was personal. I was very tall. I had, thanks to my father, a longer hammock than normal issue but there was only one place in the crew's quarters where I could sling it. I almost had to fight the previous occupant for that space but he took one look at my size and gave way. The bunks in the officers' cabin were all far too short for me and couldn't be extended. If I became an officer I would have real difficulty sleeping on any ship, and that would affect my performance.

He understood my reluctance and agreed with me about National Servicemen and the need for more skilled ratings in a shrinking but more complex navy."

"So, what are you going to do after University, Charles?"

"I don't know yet. Something scientific, I suppose. It depends on my final results. What about you Gillian? You're going back to your final year."

"I intend to do a postgraduate course to train as a Primary school teacher. That's a job I could do almost anywhere, depending on who I marry. Your parents and mine are going to support me for one more year."