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How might a Honduran serviceman have experienced the cold Scottish winters far away from home, during the Second World War? Inspired by the stories of members of the Honduran Forestry Unit, the collections of The Devil’s Porridge Museum and of children living at nearby Springkell House while their fathers were fighting in the conflict, writer Nicola Baldwin imagines their lives colliding during a cold, snowy night near a Scots Pine forest...
This content was created during COVID-19
Eduardo:
That’s it. Stand back!
Get out of the way of the tree!
How many times do I have to tell you? You can’t run in snow. When the tree falls you’ve got to be quick thinking, not quick running.
It’s getting dark. You need cut logs to light a fire, and take it in turns to dry off.
Wait? What are you doing?
You want to go back to those pig-sties and shiver all night?
I’m not going to order any man in the Forestry Unit to stay… It’s up to you…
Alright, Tree, everybody has gone back to the camp to be cold all night.
You and me, we’ll stay warm together.
Sylvia:
The window!
Dorothy? Did you get out of bed and open that window? What have I told you?
It’s very naughty climbing on the chair, not to mention dangerous, with the wind and snow. Do you want us to catch our deaths?
I brought you a glass of warm milk; Matron said you refused to eat your tea. I’ll put it here. You’re almost 6; one of the big girls at Springkell, and Matron expects you to set an example. I know you’re awake.
Many tots in this dormitory have no mothers or fathers. Your Father is a soldier. He’s proud of you, being strong. I can help you write to him tomorrow. Would you like that?
Dorothy:
Yes…[inaudible]
Sylvia:
You can draw him a lovely picture of Springkell House in the snow. Or a Christmas tree? Oh hen, are you crying?
When I first came to Eastriggs I was always being told off. I was much bigger than you. Let me stoke the fire. I’ll tell you my story if you drink your milk.
Eduardo:
Know what, Tree? I think you’re getting heavier.
You’re not even a Tree anymore, now you’re all cut up into logs.
I’m going to call you the Scots Pine Timber Unit.
I’m Eduardo Sylvestre, if we’re going to be properly introduced.
In a way, you and me could be related; Sylvestre is a common name in British Honduras, and the Latin name for the Scots Pine tree, is Pinus Sylvestris.
Not many people know this.
What am I doing, standing in the snow teaching Latin to a pile of wood?
Over 300 hundred men applied to lead the British Honduras Forestry Unit for the British War Effort, but the welcome here is damp and cold as the weather.
Younger men in my unit, they’re hurting, they’re angry. They want to go home.
I don’t blame them.
We build their railway tracks, and we power their stoves… No one sees us.
So, I’m going to leave this….to show I was here.
Sylvia:
That nice?
Dorothy:
Mmm...
Sylvia:
So… what brought me to Gretna? A lost hockey ball and the Devil’s Porridge! I was sixteen, mad on hockey. I used to help the Western Wildcats and I was looking for a ball when a representative from His Majesty’s Factory Gretna turned up. My brothers were fighting at the front, but she was the first woman I saw in uniform. And her hands were yellow! She said:
This is what you get mixing the Devil’s Porridge!
Dorothy:
(laughs)
Sylvia:
She made cordite for army munitions in big vats, with her bare hands… She said, our fathers and brothers at the Front rely on the Gretna Girls for their lives. Come and join us and be as strong and brave as a soldier.
She said HM Factory Gretna was 9 miles long and paid better than regular factory work. They were building a whole new town, with a hockey pitch and a clubhouse…. (laughs) I signed up!
Mother was beside herself. But with my brothers at the front and three we’ans, when I told her my wage, she agreed. So, I came to Eastriggs. I made friends.
The last War ended; I stayed.
But those first few weeks, Dorothy, I cried every night….You asleep, hen?
Sylvia:
Hello? Who left that treetop in the snow? A Scots Pine
