A newspaper cutting has been preserved, bearing the handwritten inscription ‘Evening Times, May 1946’. However, a search of that title for the relevant month has failed to produce the original:

RESTLESS SAILOR NORMAN MCINTYRE writes from the Australian coast I HAD no intention of going to sea, though ships always have attracted me since a long sea voyage (so it seemed) to Brodick on the Glen Sannox with my father in 1926. By the end of 1940, I thought I had travelled, but it was no more than an occasional hostel tour up to the Highland, or a jaunt down to London with the Boy Scouts. Between 1940, when I was 19 years of age, and Hogmanay of last year, I have travelled no less than 285,000 miles, and have planted my “number nines” on the soil of Australia, Persia, Kenya, Bermuda, India, United States, France, West Indies, Spain, Iraq, New Zealand, Portugal, Tunisia, Canada, Egypt, Natal, Turkey, Panama, Italy, Goa, Mozambique, Iceland, Sicily, Gibraltar, Arabia, Palestine, Syria and Yugoslavia. 10 Times Round World The mileage is equal to roughly 10 times round the world. I’ve crossed every longitude there is from G.M.T. to the Date Line (0 to 180 degrees) in both east and west directions, and every parallel of latitude from 60 degrees N. to 52 degrees S., so I can claim to have well and truly circumnavigated the globe, cruising the Atlantic, Mediterranean, Red Sea, Arabian, Indian, Tasman, Pacific and Caribbean oceans. My sea career is no longer than five years, but I’m sure this record is unique for any man under 25 years of age, and I’ll still be on the move until about June. My Biggest Thrill Looking ahead, I think I’d prefer a job in the country, or by the sea, but NOT ON THE SEA. My biggest thrill during the war wasn’t the time we encountered a hurricane 60 miles east of the Florida coast, or off the beaches of Normandy, or the U-boat menace around Trinidad. NO, it was the red-letter day that I came in contact with my brother in Nairobi, where as an Army sergeant he was doing jungle training. My ship put into Mombassa, and I took a chance, got leave, moved up country and spent two memorable days with him. The folk back home have this splendid photograph of us super-imposed on a map of Africa.

Stanley and Norman in Nairobi, Kenya, in October 1943

It is possible to reconstruct much of the detail of Norman’s wartime service in the Merchant Navy from surviving correspondence. In 1943, Norman had a glimpse of his own future when he visited his brother Stanley in Kenya. The surviving copy of Stanley’s letter home to their mother is undated but from the date inscribed upon the above photograph, it was apparently written in October of that year:

(Illegible) C/O A.P.C. East African COMMAND. Dear Mother, I got your letter and telegram, and have also received of late airgraphs from Ian, Donald, Elizabeth, and Eddie. I also got a letter from Norman, and he also sent some photographs. I had a visit from Norman the other day, his ship called at Mombasa, and managed to come up for a couple of days. I certainly was surprised to see him, and for the moment I did not recognise him. He had written that there was a possibility that he might call but reckoned that the chances were remote. He managed to come, and I showed him round town, and generally had a good time. I hired a car, and showed him a good deal of the country. He certainly is looking fit, and is getting all the mail okay. He showed me airgraphs that have followed him round the globe. We had a few photographs taken in town, and as he is not leaving until about the 20th, he should get them before he leaves. I have also sent you some, and as letters go by surface mail, they should arrive in about six weeks, or three months, it all depends on the route taken. I have sent on another parcel, and have sent on some silk to Eba, and I think that she should like the colours. Norman brought along a carton of American Cigarettes, and is sending along some more before he leaves. He reckons to be home soon, and this should be his last trip in Eastern Waters. Glad to hear that the weather at the Glasgow Fair was the best for thirty-five years. I don’t suppose it would be worth while trying to get down to the coast, for I can just imagine it, queues at the station, trouble with food coupons ect (sic). I am pleased to hear that Ian is much better, although I suppose he has had a pretty rough time of it. Tell the boys I am okay, and tell them to keep writing, as it is good to hear some news from home. Everything out here is still the same, although the pictures are improving, for I can go now without fear of having seen them before. Cheerio, with lots of love Stan

In a letter dated 26^th August 2002, Jim Hume recounts to Norman’s daughter Lucy how he first met her father:

I shall start by trying to answer a few of the questions which you have asked me. First of all Lucy I first met your dad in South Shields and the date was April 1944 we were both joining the S.S. Empire Grey which was nearing completion at John Redheads shipbuilders yard on the river Tyne. This was in the days when the river Tyne built more ships than any other place in the world, sadly all this has long since gone and they have ceased building ships on the Tyne. Anyway Lucy the Empire Grey was specifically built for the Normandy Invasion which took place on D day the 6th June 1944 so this meant your dad and me spent about ten weeks in South Shields living in digs and we eventually went on board the ship about the end of May. A favourite haunt of ours during the waiting time was the Golden Lion pub, no doubt Lucy you are well aware that your dad enjoyed a drink. During this time we became the best of pals, I was an engineer officer and as you know your dad was an (sic) radio officer. We sailed from the Tyne early in June in time to reach the Thames where we loaded a Canadian Armoured Unit and we were in the first convoy to sail to the Normandy beachheads on D day. Altogether we made 10 trips to Normandy and two to Antwerp then the Empire Grey was diverted to North Atlantic convoys where we made three trips to New York, on the third trip to New York the ship was converted to a grain carrying vessel and we ended up going to Wilminton (sic) on the Delaware in order to load with grain which we discharged in the Bristol Channel at the port of Barry. We made a second trip to U.S.A. for grain and this time the cargo was discharged on the river Mersey… PS I am enclosing a World War II memento. My pay sheet for the D-Day operation. Your dad would get one as well. 65p per day??

In an earlier letter to Lucy, dated 31^st January 1995, Jim had elaborated on the South Shields and D-Day experiences and writes of the landfalls at New York and Antwerp:

As you already know your dad was a wireless operator and I was an engineer and we first met early in 1944 in a shipyard of the river Tyne just as they were about to put the finishing touches to the Empire Grey at the John Redhead yard, South Shiels (sic). This ship was built to take part in the pending invasion of Normandy which took place on June 6th 1944 (D Day) and altogether the Empire Grey made 10 trips from London to the Normandy Beaches so as you can imagine Lucy this was quite hectic time for everyone who sailed on this vessel, I still have vivid memories of arriving back at a London Dock from Normandy and being told we would be sailing back there again with another full load of troops plus all their equipment in just six hours time so any shore leave had to be very brief. But I am pleased to tell you that your dad and I still managed to hop on a bus up to London West End for a quick drink and if time permitted we would visit the Windmill Theatre which was famous for its lovely chorus girls. When we finished with our Special Operations to Normandy the Empire Grey sailed to America where we both enjoyed a short visit to New York before sailing up the Hudson River to Albany the capital town of New York State. I should mention that it was your dad who told me it was the State capital, in fact your dad was so knowledgeable about everything connected with America that without hesitation he could reel off the names of every American State, all 48 of them, then he would reel off the capital town of every State. Anyway Lucy during our stay in Albany the Empire Grey was fitted out to carry a load of grain back to Europe and by the time we crossed the Atlantic on our return voyage Antwerp had just been liberated so this was the port where we discharged our load of grain. I remember on our first night ashore in Antwerp walking from the ship up into the centre of the town where we passed a likely looking café/bar and saying to your dad this will suit us nicely for enjoying a quiet drink but your dad didnt like the look of the place and we ended up spending the entire night just walking and sightseeing because all the time we were ashore Antwerp was taking a hammering from V.1. and V.2s, in other words Doodle Bugs and Rockets carrying high explosives. We had a similar experience often during our visits to London so we didn’t pay too much attention to this form of bombing, that is until we were on our way back to the ship again when we passed the bar which I had first fancied going into it had taken a direct hit from a V.2. and all that remained of the place was a gaping hole in the street belching out fire and smoke and I still have clear memories of your dad saying “Glad we didnt go in there Jim.” We made a number of trips to America on the Empire Grey, one in particular which I remember was To (sic) the Delaware river where we docked at Willminton (sic) and on the same voyage we visited Philadelfia (sic) where needless to say we both enjoyed our stay.

A letter, written by Norman to his sister Elizabeth (Eba), gives his own lively account of his experiences on one of the American sojourns:

To: Mrs. Elizabeth B. Grant, 31, Rannoch Drive, Bearsden, Nr. Glasgow, Scotland. From: Norman D. McIntyre, M.V. “Lucellum”, Messrs. Norton, Lilly, inc. Wall Street, New York. 12th March, ‘45 V-MAIL Off the Coast of Massachusetts Dear Eba, I got your letter OK at Falmouth, and was very pleased to hear that you are writing to Stanley quite often, as there are very few fighting men in the globe, who appreciate mail more, than the extremely unfortunate hombres in Burma. The boys fighting in Germany have a regular issue of top brand cigarets (sic), chocs, and above all when they are granted leave, they can be at their own threshold in two days; not so the poor guys out East with none of the above diversions or amenities, but instead they have mosquitoes, snakes, intense heat, scorpions, ants, Bombay canaries (large beetle), torrential rain and last but not least NO WHITE GIRLS. To think that a real good-looking young man like Stan, hasn’t spoken to a British or European girl since he left Nairobi, Kenya (over a year ago) is quite tragic. So thanks again, sister, for remembering Stan; it’s one way to make me happy as a king. Right now we are pitching and rolling something awful, so if my writing looks a little wavy, I hope you’ll forgive me; she’s a lovely ship, Eba, and is on the finest little shuttle-service in all the world, so I’m keeping mum till at least July when I hope to spend a few memorable days down at South Bute. NEW YORK CITY right now is under a midnight curfew, so famous night spots like El Morroco (sic), Copacabana, Latin Quarter, La Martinique, Café Zanzibar etc. etc. all fold up at 0000. Quite revolutionary for the Broadway Babies and late-date NewYorkers. This applies to all cabarets, speak easies, dime a dance joints, tap-bars and bowling alleys, which leaves the only amusements open:- movies, restaurants, hotels, USO clubs, drug stores. Then the cigaret (sic) is developing into the biggest racketeer attraction since the rosy days of “Dutch” Schultz and his mob during the prohibition era. Yes-sirree, things are getting’ mighty active round these parts, but I maintain that it’s a temporary hoax by the W.P.B. to stave-off inflation. But even with all these restrictions, I’ll back New York right now against peace-time London, easy. About your shoes, Eba my dear, it all depends on old Father Time, and you know that if I can possibly manage to get them, there’s nothing’ll stop me; but where cargo-ships crew get less money & more days, octane-ship crews get more money & less hours. I think you’ll be seeing me sometime in April all going well, and King Neptune willing. Remember the submarine campaign is anything but over, and they have lots of new devices. I’ll try not to forget the Automobile mags for Gregor and chewing-gum for the Katzenjammer kids, but boy, gum is as scarce as nylon stockings, as Wrigleys orders from Catalina Island go thro’ New York in transit, for the G.I.’s in Europe and India. Well, my bonny lass, I guess I’ll have to wind-up now, and write to the sweetest WAC in the U.S. Army; she’s a real looker and hails from Carson City, NEV. And she isn’t the least bit expensive. Just a lonely army gal waiting on a not so lonely navy guy. So long Eba Your loving brother, Norman

The story continues with a letter written to Eba on 1^st July 1944, in which their younger brother, Donald, is to the forefront of his thoughts:

Saturday, 1st July 1944 Received your letter dated 21st June, which was, incidentally, the first mail from the family circle; it was followed up in a few hours by a letter card from Mum. These letters contained all I wanted to know, especially the whereabouts of Donald, as I quite expected to transport some of his section across ; you see, we have carried a battalion of them already, and I was naturally concerned about the location of our young Donald. I was indeed very pleased to learn that he is still attached to his station and even talking about leave in August!! He may get a surprise one of these days when a guy in a naval outfit shows up at his camp. Since D day I’ve been dying to see him but three reasons have held me back 1) I thought he’d be on his way “across” 2) There was the possibility of him coming on our ship. 3) I was greatly pushed for time. But as things begin to ease down a little, I guess I’ll be able to wangle a day or two with my lil chickadee ; you know, Eba, I’d do anything in the world for that kid and I’m very proud of him as a brother. Everything on this stunt is very exciting ; apart from the ever-present dangers of fog, gales and (I said gales, not GALS) collisions, there are the acoustic mines, subs., E. boats, surface raiders, stukas, pilotless aircraft and the Calais heavy guns. Yeah we get quite a lively time over here, but we all just take it as it comes and hope for the best ; me and the second mate claim to be the only men on the ship who wear pyjamas to bed. Well, I maintain that 7 hours in normal sleeping togs are worth 12 hours decked out in heavy sweaters and pants ; besides, in the water, the man in the least clothes naturally stands a better chance of swimming towards safety, so consequently, sister, I wear pyjamas! Our junior is a Manchunian (sic), same age as Donald (and taller!) is rather green regarding nautical expressions, but still I guess he’ll learn in good time ; he comes from very good stock so I’m sandwiched by a coupla guys with Oxford accents, but we get along swell. I dated a very nice girl, whom I met previously at the Astoria ballroom in the West End, and was invited out to dinner last Sunday. Guess where they stayed, Eba? Their happy home was in Lyttleton Rd. East Finchley. I’ll be seeing this girl again when we get back as I like her folks (h’m) and also the district. No, she’s a looker and all that, sister, but, well, y’know, she just aint got that sumpin’. Tell me if you know a certain edifice by the extraordinary name of the “BALD-FACED STAG”. As per usual, I’m feeling real top notch, super duper, Eba, and I trust that you and the little fellow are also enjoying the best of health. Give my love to all the folks at “31,” and I wish Gregor GOOD LUCK wherever he may be. Au revoir, ma chèrie, Votre jeun frère, Norman de Normandie

Jim’s letter dated 31^st January 1995 outlines the end of the war and demobilisation:

Shortly after that trip (to Philadelphia) we celebrated the end of the war in Europe in the Bristol Channel at a port by the name of Barry. Then we headed for the port of Middlesborough where I signed off the Empire Grey late in 1945 and your dad and I both went our separate ways and it was to be 50 years later until we met again...

Norman’s driving licence photo, Nyasaland Protectorate, 1950

Norman subsequently pursued a career in tea planting and met Elizabeth Frances Stuart Brown in a pub in Lilongwe, Nyasaland Protectorate, during May 1953. They were formally introduced by Wilson Stuart Brown, Charles’s son and Frances’s first cousin. Wilson’s connection to Norman was that they worked on the same tea plantation. Norman married Frances on 23rd October 1956, at Langbank Church, Langbank, After Banns According to the Forms of the Church of Scotland. Norman was designated as a ‘Tea Planter (Bachelor)’ and his age was entered as 34. He was usually resident at 92, Camphill Avenue, Glasgow S1. The ceremony was presided over by Quintin Golder, Minister of Langbank Church of Scotland. The witnesses were Alexander Burnside Jack, of 268, Albert Drive, Glasgow S1, and Elizabeth Joyce Duguid of The Firs, Blanefield. Norman and Frances had two daughters, Fé in 1957 and Lucy in 1958, with whom they travelled extensively and lived in Kenya and then Tanzania. Considerable light is shed upon Norman’s character during these years by a glowing testimonal written:

Zoa Tea Estate, P. O. Sandama, NYASALAND. 7th October, 1958. Sirs, I have known Mr. N. D. McIntyre for ten years. Four of these he worked with me and I found him to be a very hard worker indeed. Mr. McIntyre’s finest quality is his ability to deal with native labour. In the fields he was popular because of his natural cheerfulness. I would say that where he works he will attract labour. His experience in tea is varied and sound. All aspects to do with running an estate efficiently Mr. McIntyre can do well. I have no hesitation in putting forward my view that your applicant is a reliable honest person who could develop an estate successfully. (Signed) Colin Orr Lees Manager.

Norman’s driving licence photo, Kenya, 1961

An undated letter from Jim, apparently written in late 1994, gives his reaction to the news of Norman’s death together with details of the poignant account of how Norman, during the final weeks of his life, visited Hawick for a reunion with an old friend. It also reveals how Norman and Jim’s subsequent lives followed remarkably similar roads, although their paths did not cross during these years:

Dear Lucy, I am writing to thank you for your letter which I received this morning and to tell you how sad I am to hear about the death of your father. I can hardly believe that it is less than three months since your dad spent two days with us in Hawick and I must say he didn’t look like a man with just a few more weeks to live. In fact the only complaint your dad made was about the poor toilet facilities on the bus from Bournemouth to Carlisle as he needed to go to the toilet regularly due to bother with his waterworks. However he did mention that he was due to enter hospital early in September in order to have an operation on his Prostate Gland but at no time did he ever mention that he was suffering from cancer of the prostate. Pain is a marked symptom of this condition and it is often accompanied with an escape of blood so this may explain why your dad told you he had a bleeding ulcer. Anyway Lucy to some extent this would explain why your dad was drinking heavily during the last few weeks of his life. I am pleased to tell you that your dad enjoyed his brief stay in Hawick, although it is 50 years since we last met during the war when we both served in the Merchant Navy your dad was a Radio Officer and I was an engineer and we were “best buddies” so we certainly had plenty to talk about during the two days he stayed with us. Of course we both have a lot in common having worked overseas in various African countries and your dad was in Assam as well so I am sure you will be interested to hear that we had a party on the last night of his stay in Hawick and we had invited friends of ours who had also worked in Assam on tea estates so they had a right “guid blether” about Assam and needless to say they mentioned lots of people they both knew… P.S I thought you would like to have the enclosed snaps of your dad taken on his visit to Hawick. We had planned to send them to Mac in Bournemouth.

Jim returned to the theme of his final meeting with Norman in his letter of 31^st January 1995:

Your dad visited Hawick early in August last year and I want you to know Lucy that I was really glad to meet up with my old shipmate once again and little did we know that Mac had just a few more weeks in which to live and every time I think about him I feel very sad. If you do have a memorial service for your dad I most certainly would like to attend.

Brothers and Sisters