She replied:
‘My dearest Boy,—How shocked I was to hear you had got a cold on such a day! It is abominable to think that boys are taken out on a wet day. You might have died! I am so annoyed about this that I have asked our Member to put a question in the House. I have also written to The Times. It is shocking!—Your loving
Mother.’
When I got this I almost had apoplexy. Something had to be done. I wired the Member: ‘For Heaven’s sake don’t put mother’s question! Writing.’ And I also wired to The Times. That saved the situation.
The mater couldn’t understand war; nor did she realise that soldiers are not mollycoddles. She didn’t mind my dying at the Front, but she did object to my getting a cold at home. Rather a mixed-up point of view, but quite motherly. And there are lots of mothers like that, as I have since discovered.
This route march incident apparently decided her visit to our school. Aunt Jane was invited to accompany her. She was delighted. The two old dears simply wired: ‘Coming to see you. Ask the rector to let you off.’
The rector! How the old ‘com.’ would have laughed if he had seen the telegram! The mater gave me no clue as to how she would come, or when I might expect her. However, I knew Aunt Jane would look after her. Meantime I asked all my pals to have tea with the ladies at the local hotel. I insisted particularly on Nobby’s coming, for I knew she would like to see the Radical.
There was going to be fun.
Unfortunately I was not about when they landed. They came from the junction by motor-car, and were deposited at the gate.
‘I don’t see John,’ said the mater.