|
 Monty came for tea
by Chris Snowdon
Part One
The Ferry Boat did its bit for the war effort. Mrs. Harrison, the landlady, provided four sons to serve at sea - three in the Merchant Navy and one in the Royal Navy. When her youngest son left The Ferry Boat to join the Merchant Navy regular Herbert Porkess stood on the step with tears streaming down his face. He was going to miss the young lad but he also knew, only too well, the perils war was to present.
For an outlying village Winteringham had its fair share of service personnel and The Ferry Boat always guaranteed them some respite during their off-duty hours. There had been the guards of the mysterious railway wagons, parked in the siding at the railway station, who always found time for an occasional drink or three. As the Army Camp on the road to Winterton became busier the officers and men posted there discovered the pleasures of the village pubs.
As ever amongst The Ferry Boat's clientele some struck up more of a friendship with the landlady and her family than others. Sometimes it may have been officers at other times it would have been the other ranks as various personnel passed through the camp.
Three officers in particular became friendly with Mrs. Harrison and she invited them to join the family for tea the following Sunday. Now Sunday tea was the main meal on the Sabbath at The Ferry Boat. Breakfast was taken late in the morning, after church, so there was little call for the usual Sunday Dinner. Instead 'high tea' was served at about 5 o'clock in the afternoon. There would be cold meat - from the joint that was used on Saturday, ham and boiled bacon together with home grown salad and pickles. Then there was always a large jam tart and a large lemon curd tart for it was one of Mrs. Harrison's golden rules when setting a table for tea that there had to be something red and something yellow on the table.
All of this called for some preparation so the invitation to tea would have been given to the officers early in the week to allow time for produce to be gathered and cakes to be made - not forgetting the bread that had to be baked.
Part Two
Friday evening arrived and the officers managed to find themselves off-duty and so made their way to The Ferry Boat. So too did Maurice, a private at the camp. All were welcome together with the regulars including our old acquaintance Herbert. The slightly warm beer was appreciated by all and sundry. Eventually, at closing time the arrangements for Sunday Tea were confirmed between Mrs. Harrison and the officers.
On Saturday afternoon, just as the towels were about to be put over the beer pumps, Maurice pelted into the bar, having parked the communal camp bicycle at the door. He was out of breath but managed to order a pint anyway. Once he had slaked his thirst and caught his breath he demanded to speak to Mrs. Harrison. She emerged from the family quarters behind the bar.
"What is it Maurice?" she enquired.
"It's the Sunday Tea m'am" replied Maurice, "they can't come."
"Why ever not?"
Maurice finished off his pot of beer, "... 'cos Montgomery's coming t'inspect camp on Sunday - that's why." explained the private.
Herbert and the two farmers who were just about to leave the bar were gobsmacked. A quiet whistle of disbelief came from one of them.
Mrs. Harrison thought for a second ... "Maurice, tell your officers that they must bring Mr. Montgomery along too."
Now Herbert and the farmers were incredulous. They all gently exhaled and the trio of whistles they produced formed quite a close harmony.
Saturday evening was quiet in the bar. There were no army members present. They were all preparing the camp ready for Monty's inspection. However there was only one topic of conversation amongst the regulars - the impending visit.
Part Three
|
A Christmas party in one of the upstairs rooms at the Ferry Boat during World War II
|
|
Sunday arrived. The Harrison Family attended Church, came home for breakfast and opened the pub for the Sunday lunchtime session. Once the pub had emptied preparations began for Sunday Tea at The Ferry Boat with a very important guest.
The table was set with even more care than usual. There was a silver decorative centrepiece with a rose in the middle. Best cutlery and china were used even though it wasn't Christmas. It was a large table and it needed to be. There were to be about a dozen sat around it and it needed to accommodate the cruets, the pickles and the beetroot - not forgetting the deep red jam tart and the bright yellow lemon curd.
It looked a picture.
One minute before they were due the deputation from the army camp arrived complete with visitor. They were all shown into the dining room and seated for what was, in wartime, quite a feast.
Mrs. Harrison's husband Ralph sat at the head of the table. On the sideboard behind him rested the magnificent Scunthorpe District Cricket League Cup. It had been there for years with Winteringham C. C. proudly etched upon it. Montgomery sat at the opposite end. It was where Mrs. Harrison usually sat but she had deferred to her guest.
Once the two senior members of the tea party had taken their seats so did everyone else. One of Ralph's daughters circled the table with a large tea-pot filling everyone's cup. Ralph put a miniscule drop of fresh milk into his cup and stirred it thoughtfully. Ralph had a reputation, all too rare these days, of never saying anything unless it was worth saying. So when he looked up towards the honoured guest silence fell upon the room.
"Mr. Montgomery," said Ralph, "do you ..."
He paused when he realised that all eyes were upon him, indeed at least one forkful of ham had paused midway on its journey from plate to palate.
Ralph realised that serving army officers deserved to be addressed by their rank, so he corrected himself,
"Major Montgomery," said Ralph, "... do you often get mistaken for Field Marshall Montgomery?"
|
