When I got back to England after VE Day, my wife and I decided
to get married. I was in Bournemouth, and I had to get
permission to get married. I think I had mentioned it, that if
you didn’t get permission, it was against military law. And it
was also that you didn’t get any marriage allowance, so ... So,
I went to the orderly room and saw the adjutant. And I said, “I
want permission to get married.” And he said, “I don’t know you
from Adam. I’m running a transit camp here.” He said, “Go up
to London, at Harrods store, and that’s where the records are.”
So I said, “How long have I got?” He said, “Oh, three days.” I
thought, great, you know, Sheila’s in London, I got three days.
So I went up there, and went down to Harrods the next day, and
it was a cacophony of sound. All these people in those records,
this big long, must have been about 40 feet counter. And all
the records were in behind, and various corporals and sergeants
were in there. And it was, “George, I haven’t seen you since
so-and-so. You were a POW.” Boom, everything, just talk, talk,
talk, talk. So, I got in line. Then got to the front of the
line and, incidentally, since I was a Wing Radar Officer, I
wasn’t used to standing in line, so that was the first thing
that I wasn’t happy about. So, I got to the front of the line
and a WD, that’s the women’s service of the RCAF, so I said,
“Permission to get married.” And she reached down, she said, “Go
see the padre. He has to sign off on that.” Well, I went up
and saw the padre. We’d never met before. He spent about ten
minutes, probably less than that, trying to talk me out of it.
I convinced him I was, you know, quite serious. And he signed
off, and that’s the last I saw of him. Went downstairs, back in
the line again, and I got to the front of the line. “Yes,” and
she went into ... I was standing there, and about 14 feet, just
over there, a WD officer came up. And she "Me?” “You.” So I
walked over and said, “I don’t know how long you’ve been in the
air force, but I call my dog that way. You see my rank, you
call me by my rank.” Incidentally, I outranked her. She said,
“You’re trying to commit bigamy. You’re trying to commit
bigamy.” Well, at the third time (inaudible). She was up at
that level. Complete hush, and everybody was looking at me.
“What?” “Your wife, Mabel Linden, 2187 ...” I said, “That’s my
mother.” “Our records say it’s your ...” I said, “We better go
see the commanding officer here.” “Well, come on.” So, we went
up and saw the commanding officer. Says, “Well, we’ll go back
to Canada and get it straightened out.” I said, “How long?” you
know. By now, the war in Europe is over, you see, so they’re
not in a hurry. He said, “Oh a week, maybe two.” I said,
“Well, we’re getting married in the Anglican Church and the
bands have to be read this Sunday.” And, true to his word, he
did have it back in about 24 hours. And what had happened was,
and I have my records of this, I was in Fadhiya, which is below
the spur in Italy. And my mother moved, so you put in change of
address, next-of-kin. So, from Fadhiya, to Cairo, to London,
mother became wife. How did that happen? Well, we finally
figured it out. And in my records it says wife, question mark,
marriage date, question mark, and we finally figured it out. In
those days a woman could be addressed as Mrs. Mabel Linden or by
her husband’s initials, Mrs. H. F. Linden. And I think,
probably, I’d said one, and then on change of address said the
other, and that’s the only logical reason I can find.
But it was quite something.