He managed to pick up snippets of information from those islanders who had been forced to work at the police station, but the only thing of any consequence he was able to find out was that German ships were docking at St. Helier regularly to unload more soldiers, arms, and ammunition.
On the twentieth morning, one of their informants told them that a ship would be arriving from Hamburg the following day, and that he had seen their names on the embarkation log for its return journey. Diana wept. Robin never slept while his wife was awake.
In the middle of the night, when they were both sleeping fitfully, the cell door was pulled open without warning. Two German soldiers stood in the doorway. One of them asked politely if Mr. Chapman would join them. Robin was puzzled by the officer’s courteous manner, and wondered if this was how German soldiers behaved just before they shot you.
He accompanied the soldiers up the stairs. Was he being escorted to the ship? Surely not, or they would have taken Diana as well. Once again he was taken down the street in the direction of the Bailiff’s Chambers, but this time the soldiers walked by his side, making no attempt to hold onto him.
When he entered the Bailiff’s office, Colonel Kruger looked up from behind his desk, an anxious look on his face. He didn’t waste his words. “The ship that was meant to transport prisoners to Hamburg has struck a rock just outside the harbor.” Robin wondered which brave islander had managed to remove the warning lights. “It’s sinking fast,” continued the colonel. “The lives of all those on board will be lost, including several civilians, unless the lifeboat is sent out to rescue them.” He avoided saying “my countrymen.”
“Why are you telling me this, Colonel?” asked Robin.
“The lifeboat crew is refusing to cast off without their head launcher, so I am asking you—” he paused—“begging you, to join them before it’s too late.”
Strange, the things that pass through one’s mind when faced with a moral dilemma, Robin thought. He knew the directive by heart. It is the duty of every member of the RNLI to go to the aid of anyone in distress on the high seas, irrespective of their nationality, color, or creed, even if they are at war with Britain. He nodded curtly at the colonel.
Out on the street a car was waiting, its door open, to take him to the harbor. Fifteen minutes later they cast off.
Robin and the rest of the crew returned to Arden Rock several times that night. In all, they rescued seventy-three passengers, including eleven German officers and thirty-seven crew members. The remainder were civilians who had been selected to assist in the administration of the island. A cargo of arms, ammunition, and transport vehicles was resting on the bottom of the ocean.
When Robin carried the last of the survivors back to the safety of the island, two German officers were waiting for him as he stepped off the lifeboat. They handcuffed him and escorted him back to the police station. As he walked into the cell, Diana smiled for the first time in days.
When the cell door was opened the following morning, two plates of bacon and eggs, along with cups of hot tea, were laid before them by a young German corporal.
“Last breakfast before they execute us,” suggested Robin as the guard slammed the cell door behind him.
“It wouldn’t be hard to guess what your final request will be,” said Diana, smiling.
A few minutes after they’d devoured their unexpected feast, another soldier appeared and told them he was taking them to the commandant’s headquarters.
“I shall be happy to accompany you to the Bailiff’s Chambers,” said Robin defiantly.
“We’re not going to the Connétable,” said the soldier. “The commandant has requisitioned the golf club as his new headquarters.”
“Your final wish has been granted,” said Diana as she and Robin settled into the back seat of a staff car, which brought a puzzled expression to the young German’s face.
When they arrived at the club, they were taken to Lord Trent’s office. Colonel Kruger stood up and offered them both a seat. Diana sat down, but Robin remained standing.
“This morning,” the colonel said, “I rescinded the order that you were to be shipped to prison in Germany, and issued a new directive, releasing you immediately. You will therefore be allowed to return to your home. Should you be foolish enough to break the law a second time, Mr. Chapman, you will both be aboard the next ship that sails for Germany. Think of it as what’s called, in your country, a suspended sentence.”
The commandant once again rose from behind his desk. “You are a remarkable man, Mr. Chapman. If your fellow countrymen are forged from the same steel, your nation may not prove quite as easy to defeat.”
“Perhaps you should read Henry V,” suggested Robin.
“I have,” replied the commandant. He p
aused and looked out of the window toward the weed-covered eighteenth green before adding, “But I’m not sure the Führer has.”
The remainder of Robin’s war turned out to be something of an anticlimax, except for those occasions when the klaxon sounded and he had to pedal furiously along the seafront to join his crew at the boathouse. He stayed on as the lifeboat’s head launcher while the Germans remained on the island.
During the occupation, members of the Royal Jersey were not permitted to enter the clubhouse, let alone play a round of golf. As the years passed, the finely tended course became so overgrown with weeds and nettles you couldn’t tell where the rough ended and the fairways began. Clubs rusted in the storeroom, and there were only tattered flags fluttering on the ends of their poles to show where the greens had been.
On May 9, 1945, the day after VE day, an advance party of English troops landed on Jersey and the German commandant on the Channel Islands surrendered.
Once the thirty-six thousand intruders had finally departed, the locals quickly did everything in their power to restore the old order. This didn’t prove easy, as the Germans had destroyed many of the island’s records, including applications for membership of the Royal Jersey Golf Club.
Other forms of life did return to normal. Robin and Diana were standing on the dockside waiting to welcome the first ferry from Weymouth when she sailed into St. Helier on July 12.
“Oh my goodness!” cried Diana the moment she saw her children. “How they’ve grown.”