FROM A CLUBMAN’S CHAIR

Timaru Herald, Volume CXLVIII, Issue 21818, 22 November 1940, Page 9

FROM A CLUBMAN’S CHAIR

Naming The American Destroyers Film Star Arrested LONDON, September 30. When the announcement was made that one of the newly acquired American destroyers was to be renamed Churchill, most people regarded it as a compliment to the Prime Minister. Not so the 700 inhabitants of the Somerset village of Churchill. They felt that the honour was theirs! The ships are being given names of towns and villages common to the United States and the United Kingdom, so there is some excuse for the villagers’ pride. Mr Churchill may be the only Government Minister to have a destroyer named after him. Chamberlain, Greenwood, Anderson, Duncan and Sinclair are places in America as well as Cabinet Ministers in Britain; but except for a Greenwood in Eire, there are no towns or villages bearing their names in this country. The Foreign Secretary may qualify, however, as there are three Halifaxes in the States to pair with the well-known Yorkshire town. It is claimed in the Somerset village of Churchill that ancestors of Sarah Jennings, who became the wife of the famous Duke of Marlborough, are buried in the local 14th century church; but historians doubt the authenticity of this rather nebulous link between the village and the Premier. But there is no doubt that Churchill, to a man, backs Churchill, the man. It is to be noted that the Churchill in America, on Hudson’s Bay, is called Fort. Empire Has Its Swastika Towns and streets as well as ships are having their names changed because of the war. In fact there seems to be something like an epidemic of re-naming all over the world. Petain, in British Columbia, is to be known as Odium, after the commander of the Canadian Second Division; on the other hand, Swastika, an Ontario mining town, does not desire another name. The Germans, as was to be expected, have tackled the matter with thoroughness. Many old names have gone from the streets of Prague; the new ones have fewer reminders of the country’s former allies. London Street is now Munich Street, and Chartres Street has become Emden Street. Foch Square, I understand, is soon to acquire a new name. A street named after ex-President Hoover now commemorates Hitler’s favourite composer, Richard Wagner; Washington Square has been turned into Weber Square. English Street, strangely enough, has become Irish Street. Efforts are being made to change street names in Belfast which have German associations, beginning with Berlin Street. Others are Hanover, Moltke and Teutonic. But many of the inhabitants are opposed to any change. Roof Spotters To the list of new occupations for which the war is responsible must now be added the hazardous task of roofspotting. Big works, offices and shops now employ roof-spotters, or look-out men, to give warning when danger m an air raid appears to be imminent. Mr Churchill good-humouredly called them “Jim Crows,” but I doubt whether the term will prove popular. The allusion is to an old nigger song, the chorus of which runs:— “Wheel about, and turn about and do just so; And every time you wheel about, jump Jim Crow.” M. Ivan Maisky, the Soviet Ambassador, is an amateur roof-spotter. He has watched more than one raid on London from the roof of his Embassy. In the course of an adventurous life, during which he has experienced exile and imprisonment, he has acquired a contempt for danger. I am told that Mr Kennedy, the American Ambassador. also likes to take his turn at roof-spotting. A Shelter Shaker A friend of mine, who continues to live in a London hotel, though all his nights are now spent in the depths, tells me of his latest unofficial A.R.P. job. He is a “shelter shaker.” Actually, it is- not the shelter he shakes—he leaves that to the Germans —but some of the occupiers. Of the 200 people who regularly use this shelter, a dozen are snorers. My friend goes round and gently shakes each snorer until the noise stops. It is a full-time job. “As one is quietened, another starts,” he says. Real Life Escape for David Niven David Niven, the film star whose engagement to be married was announced recently, featured not long ago in a real life comedy-drama. This young English actor, who interrupted his screen career to join up last November, is now Captain Niven, of the Rifle Brigade. One night when driving back to his unit after leave he was challenged three times by Home Guards. Niven, who was wearing civilian clothes, decided it would be better if he put on his uniform., For this purpose he pulled up on a lonely stretch of road and went into a wood. He was half-way through the quick change when another Home Guard patrol arrived and promptly arrested him as a Fifth Columnist. They thought it a good joke when he insisted he was an officer; an even better joke when he declared he was David Niven, the film actor. But at the patrol post a Niven fan recognised him, and all ended well. When Nazis Drop In To Tea Much has been heard of the Germans who escape by parachute from planes damaged or struck down over England, and are then given refreshments before being handed over to the military. The following incident suggests that news of this hospitality has reached Germany:— A German bomber, after dropping a stick of bombs in a field, was brought down by anti-aircraft fire. The gunners took charge of the four prisoners, all of whom were unhurt. One, who spoke English, congratulated them on their good shooting. “And now,” he added, “may we have some biscuits and a cup of tea.” The reply was terse. “On the contrary, you’re going to work like hell. You can start filling in the holes you’ve just made in our field. Here are the shovels.” The late W. S. Gilbert would have been pleased with this effort to “make the punishment fit the crime.”