Image provided by: University of Oregon Libraries; Eugene, OR
About Herald and news. (Klamath Falls, Or.) 1942-current | View Entire Issue (Feb. 7, 1965)
MOST MY MOMENT INSPIRING JOUR T “YESTERDAY rail, the of and started back- from the Indian port. As I stood beside th ’ - India wards the end of the HAPPEN teamer cast ing slowly away war. Letters from British troop in that country had complain ‘abou the lack of war effort among the British women there, and pointe questio were asked in Londo in Par- women were was allege that the cause working for the common but still leading luxurious lives; that It not ‘ lonel and Now, as a I sort Benga b plane over : ‘car, 1965 ¥ p.m.” thought steamer 2 longer,” said you needn’t spen hostess for the my - stood on the gravele drive at Chur House listening to the sound of the steam escapin from the jute works —puff-wait-puff, puff-wait-puff—and smelling the grass hot in the sun, the of English sce In the early hours of that March morning one member of Almorra’s small Europea community died. In India, when death comes, everythin has to be done swiftly because of the climate, especiall when as in March, in on the verge of the hot weather. DEAD MAN flowers beds in the champa flowers on the trees b the house and hearing the lapping, lazily lapping, sound of the water against the jetty that led from the garden I was no long this “I” uniform with brief a case full of letters, a report to write, but a sallo little girl in long- short skirts, sandals and a topkno notes and a ribbon. Chur Hous ha not been our house but I knew every corner of it.. How tied with many time had I been there to chil- dren’s parties, to spen the day play hide and seek? I knew every ste through the Works when I followed the peon who ‘ custom as had no hearse— ra decreed the entire communit would had been sent to guide me through township I knew the ba- zaar and as soon as I set foot in it, knew there were two things I had accompany it for the funeral. What was to be done with a strange visitor? With me? I had to catch that steamer and “Would you mind driv- missed in the years away in En land: the feel of the dust underfoot and in one’s nostrils, sun- dust, and the bazaar some smell— ing in and having lunch b yourself? peopl might call and taken “To _ and of the had to be buried that morning. It would b in mad hurriedly by the car- a coffin penter at one of the Works, the bod brought across the river on a launch jute-trading “We were and do your. the steamer.” It seeme a sensible plan I ha no idea then what it would mean, but when the car had driven away and I a HE station 1 miles away. Almorra, 10 a.m. by car,” the type sheet ran, with a list of sites and canteens to be visited and of to be interviewed. “Luncheon, women Catch mail Chur House 12 noon. a : who arou inspection One of the babus (clerks will show you‘roun and see you onto: back willy-nilly it is the following morning, to investigate do- were what war work the women ing among the troops and airme in “ was brought up- Bengal M father was in inland navigation so’ that we lived in small towns on the banks of two of India’s great rivers, the Brahmaputra and the Megna ‘¥reat slowl flowing giants some- times two miles wide. 4 away. ae grownups halcyon home. I did not want to go I would have to see it with grown-up. disenchanted eyes, would be spoiled and the memory But this was war time, I had a task to do—then the strangeness bega bullock cart, pony, walking, and often by boat until one day in March I found mysel in the late university town of Dacca. From there, on as I saw in my schedul I was, “ Family Weekly, February 7, far journeye I rail, if I would investigate and make a re- port. (Editors’ Note: This eventually was publishe as Benga Journey.) I was told I could choose a provinc and iM stationed there—‘station” was a goo word be- later they moved on— cause sooner or but to us children it had been home to the of corresponden officiall appointe and wearing variou uniforms so that no one would guess I was a writer, I was to visit them again ited to officers, and there was much bitterness among th rank and file; much bitterness too among the wom- were sweep- en because the criticisms ing and in many cases, most unfair. S it came about that the Women’s Voluntary Service in India asked me chose Bengal. lonely— suppose were are growing up there. Perhap it was an alien circumscribed, ‘an dull plac over to Yet those rivers were childhood our concerned with the welfare of the troops, most of whom were youn and all of them thousands of miles from home: It was said when hospitality was offered it was lim- few over “There European in tiny minnowlike fish that filled the fishermen’s baskets of rep- tiles, crocodiles and watersnakes; and of birds, water crows, fishing eagles and padd birds like. egrets that waded in the shallows. and liament. very porpoise somersaulting from You could walk not more-than 80 Almorra all told. A dead-and-alive little place.” I nearly said “I know.” My father when I jwas sent to Almorra was and.I did a great deal of my seven; “hight. These rivers carried a constant traffic of steamers, launches and flat (barges that carried the jute, rice and tea of the districts), and there were country boats’ made of wood with a single wide and wickérwork sail. There was, too, a life of fish to- b lorry to Dacea— the small it a stench. ILLUSTRATION BY JERR MeDANIEL 4
