My family connection starts with greyhound racing. At the time, Fleming's best friend was i/c of PR for the Greyhound Racing Association's track in Paris and my uncle Lorne had given up being maritime correspondent for the Daily Express to become i/c of PR for White City (London). They were both Canadians (as was the owner of the Express and another member of their circle, William Stephenson - Intrepid).
(Actually, thinking about it as I write, Lorne probably already knew Fleming, while he worked for Reuters.)
For the life of me, I cannot remember the name of this mutual friend. But he is the key to the story. My records are in the same room as me, but still rather inaccessible - I will try and dig them out and check, later.
My father's family is Canadian and his father and some of his siblings moved to England in the '30s, all for different reasons. One of his sisters, however, married a Joe Stockhausen and after his qualifying as a doctor of medecine in Ottawa, they moved to Jamaica. It was through this aunt (Bertha) that Lorne and this other chap came to know Jamaica.
I have just read that Fleming knew Jamaica through a conference there, but my story is different: it was by visiting the house bought there by the mutual friend whilst staying at aunt Bertha's, with uncle Lorne.
Fleming and Lorne were close colleagues. Whereas it was Fleming who was chosen by Rear Admiral John Godfrey, Director of Naval Intelligence, to assist Colonel Donovan form the Office of Strategic Services, it was Lorne who played a similar role post-WW2, to assist in the formation of the CIA, where he became a close colleague of Kermit Roosevelt (grandson of Theodore Roosevelt and also ex-OSS).
If I may explain - and as some get confused by references in the Bond stories to the 'Secret Service', Britain's secret service disappeared into history a long time ago, as since did MI6 and MI5. Fleming and Bond were serving naval officers and 'M' was director of Naval Intelligence. Fleming had nothing to do with either the 'secret service' or the Secret Intelligence Service, which was something of a joke during WW2.
Having just slated the SIS, I must admit that two members of my family were in that branch of British Intelligence, from the start of WW2 until at least the 1960s. One was the equivalent of Q and the other forged documents (she was an artist/engraver). The former was based for a long time in a basement of a large house in Holland Park, owned by an Admiral...
The mutual friend of Fleming and Lorne, after the war, married the richest heiress in the USA. He bought a large estate in East Anglia. About ten years ago, long after I thought he'd died, a friend told me that his business venture was being financed by him. So he was very much alive in 1996.
I remember Fleming vividly, even though I was in my pre-teens when I last met him. He was above children, though, both literally and metaphorically. However, I was a good listener and observer. Fleming was somewhat aloof, or detached, from humanity in general. The sharp end of war came easily to him.
When he visited Camp X, in Ontario, where agents were trained in the 'black arts', one of the tests was to send an agent into a room to shoot dead the male occupant. The agent was given a revolver with live ammunition for the task. What the agent did not know was the target was an instructor who could dodge bullets. The objective was to see if the prospective agent had the stomach to kill a man. (Many a soldier cannot fire directly at another person.)
The other instructors were hidden in the house, using peepholes to watch the action. They decided to test Fleming.
Fleming was seen to climb the stairs to the target room, then pause for a while on the landing. He then descended the stairs and left the house without having even entered the room with the target. When confronted by the instructors, he told them that he personally knew the target, plus the fact that he could dodge bullets. Then he said:
"But I knew I could kill him."
Cheers!
John
PS
I'm writing this from memory, so apologies for errors.
PPS
One of the oddest incidents I know of concerns Goldeneye: after the Suez Crisis, Anthony Eden, the British Prime Minister, was invited by Fleming to 'recuperate' at Goldeneye. Eden went by ship. The chap who used to bring him his tea in the morning, in his cabin, was one John Prescott, now Deputy Prime Minister.
Edited by JohnB, 18 February 2006 - 03:50 AM.