A Child's View
By Sue James
Jason Christopher Marshall handed his writing
assignment in with quiet confidence, convinced that his work would merit an A.
Writing about his hero had been easy. He hadn't needed to write about some
footballer or pop star that he'd never even met. He'd been able to write about
a real hero. He'd written about his
Uncle Chip, executive officer of the world famous submarine, the Seaview.
Jason adored his uncle and loved to hear stories about his adventures aboard
the Seaview. In fact, to his impressionable 8 year old mind the whole
crew were heroes but none more so than his uncle. Uncle Chip even looked like a
hero being tall and strong and good at sport and so
did his best friend, Seaview's skipper, Lee Crane. Jason wasn't so sure about
their boss, Admiral Nelson, who was short and had red hair and was a lot older
than Uncle Chip but he had invented the Seaview so Jason supposed that
he was also a hero.
Jason hoped that his teacher would like his
writing. He was sure it would be more interesting than reading about
footballers and pop stars. His friend, Shaun, had written about a soccer player called Kevin Keegan but Jason couldn't see
what was heroic about playing soccer. It was just a game after all. Shaun had
said that writing about a relation didn't count although he was always
interested to hear Jason's stories about his uncle and the Seaview. It
had been difficult to decide exactly what to write about but in the end he'd
written about the time three years ago when the Seaview had been sunk in
a minefield and Uncle Chip had rescued everyone. He had written, truthfully,
that he didn't remember the event very well as he'd only been 5 years old at
the time but he'd read all about it lots of times in the newspapers and
magazines that his parents had kept. He didn't write that his mother, Uncle
Chip's older sister, had called her brother "a stupid idiot" rather
than a hero, although she was really very proud of him. He'd ended by stating
that when he grew up he wanted to be an executive officer aboard the Seaview.
When he received the "A" he was sure would be awarded for his work
Jason intended to write and let his uncle know. Until then he wouldn't tell
anyone, not even his parents.
*
It was in shocked disbelief that Jason looked at
his returned assignment. "B". There in red ink was a
"B" and the comment: "An interesting piece of writing, Jason.
You obviously know a lot about submarines but this was supposed to be a factual
piece of writing, not a story."
Jason's fair eyebrows came together in a frown
that was reminiscent of his uncle's. A story!! How dare she accuse him of
writing a story as if he'd just made it up. He knew
what a factual piece of writing was but did Miss Armstrong? His teacher
suddenly slid several points in his estimation of her. When he'd first arrived
in
"Yes, Jason?" Miss Armstrong smiled at
him as he hovered by her desk when everyone else went home. "Can I help
you?"
Jason frowned slightly. "Why'd you say my
writing was a story when it wasn't?"
"Which writing was that?" She
continued to smile pleasantly at him.
"About Uncle Chip and the Seaview,"
Jason replied unhappily. "It wasn't a story; it's true."
Miss Armstrong's face indicated that she
remembered the story and she nodded. It had, she recalled, shown that Jason
Marshall had an excellent knowledge of submarines and a vivid imagination.
Possibly his story had been based on truth and she suggested this now.
"I'm sure that some of it was true," she began, "but........"
"Not some of it, ALL of it,"
Jason interrupted with a glare. "It's all true."
"But it couldn't be," Miss Armstrong
said gently, aware that Jason was becoming a little upset. "Nobody
could travel through a minefield like your uncle did and still be alive."
"He did," Jason insisted. "You
can ask him. He did do it and he's still alive."
"Where is he now?" Miss Armstrong
asked patiently.
Jason shrugged. "I don't know. He might be
at home; he might be on Seaview. I'm gonna write him and tell him you
don't believe me. He'll tell you it's all true." And with that Jason
gathered up his books and walked out leaving a startled and slightly amused
teacher behind him.
..........................................................................................................................................
"Hey, Champ. What's up?" Helen Morton
Marshall regarded her elder son with concern. Trailing out of school ten
minutes after his elder sisters and younger brother, Jason's face was mutinous
and his blue eyes were full of tears that threatened to spill over any minute.
"He's been in trouble!" Ten year old
"NOTHING!!" Jason glared through his tears. "I didn't
do anything. She did.....she called me a liar."
"Who did?" Helen put an arm around his
shoulders.
"Miss Armstrong."
"Miss Armstrong?!" His mother looked at him in surprise.
"Miss Armstrong called you a liar?"
Jason nodded his expression still mutinous.
"Why?"
"She said....." Jason struggled to get
the words out, he was so upset. "She said that Uncle Chip couldn't have
gone through that minefield and still be alive and that I'd made it all up. She
said it was a story." Slowly he told his mother and siblings all about the
assignment and what he'd written as they walked to the car. Despite her
sympathy for her son Helen couldn't help feeling sorry for his young teacher
faced with almost unbelievable stories about her younger brother. "I said
Uncle Chip will write and tell her it's all true and then she'll have to
believe me," Jason said as he climbed into the back seat of their hired
estate car. "Can I phone him?"
"No," Helen shook her head as she put
the key into the ignition. "No, you can't phone him. He's probably at
sea."
"But he might be home," Jason
protested. "She'd have to believe it if he told her."
"I'll tell her," Helen spoke
decisively. "I'll come in tomorrow and explain that it's all true. And
maybe you could write and ask Nanna and Gramps to send a copy of one of the
newspapers that they kept .I left all ours at home."
"Yes!" Jason cheered up considerably.
"Then she'll know for sure that it's true."
..........................................................................................................................................
After writing to his grandparents to request a
copy of the news cuttings they'd kept, Jason returned to school the next day
slightly happier but still distrustful of Miss Armstrong. As promised, at the
end of the day, Helen Marshall came into school and asked to read the disputed
piece of work. When she'd finished she put the book down on the desk and smiled
apologetically at the young teacher. "I know it sounds a little far
fetched but it is true I'm afraid. Believe me. I watched the whole thing on TV
and it was one of the worst days of my life."
"You mean Jason's uncle really did go
through that minefield and survive?"
"He did," Helen nodded. "It was
all over the news and in the papers though I guess it wouldn't have generated
as much interest over here."
"I'm sure I don't remember it," Miss
Armstrong admitted. "I would have been in my last year of college at the
time. I have heard of the Seaview though and Admiral Nelson. Is he
really as brilliant as they say he is?"
"I guess he is," Helen shrugged
slightly. "Chip has a lot of respect for him. Anyway, I'm sorry to have
taken up so much of your time Miss Armstrong but it was important to Jason that
I came and sorted this out. He does idolise his uncle and he was a bit upset
yesterday."
"I realize that and I'm sorry," Miss
Armstrong apologised. "I really didn't mean to upset him."
"I know," Helen Marshall smiled.
"And believe me when I say I wouldn't have believed him either."
..........................................................................................................................................
Several weeks later and thousand miles away in
"Here, read this."
What is it?" Lee caught it deftly with one
hand and, turning it over saw the stamps and answered his own question.
"It's from Helen."
"Yea," Chip nodded his blond head as
he waited for Lee to fasten his safety belt. "We're famous!"
"Are we?" Lee regarded his friend
quizzically. "Why? What did we do?"
"Actually you didn't do much at all,"
Chip grinned as he looked in his rear view mirror and pulled smoothly away from
the kerb. "It was me but you did get a mention. Read it." He
indicated the envelope that Lee still held in his hands.
"Isn't it personal?"
"No," Chip laughed. "It's all
about us and Jason's teacher. It appears we've caused quite a stir on the other
side of the pond!"
Curiously, Lee unfolded the airmail letter and
began to read. As he did so a broad smile spread across his handsome features.
"If she thinks that's farfetched we should write and tell her of some of
our more unconventional adventures. When are they coming home…. August? I wonder if we could
persuade the Admiral to let us dock somewhere in the
"No way," Chip shook his blond head.
"They don't need us disrupting their lives."
"It'd be fun!" Lee grinned. "And
I'm sure that poor teacher would love to meet Jason's hero in the flesh."
"Yea, well I'm just glad that this happened
after I'd been to visit them else I
bet the kids would manage to force me into visiting their school," Chip
made a face. "I'll send them some pictures of the Seaview. That
should keep them quiet."
“That’s no good,” Lee admonished him. “The
project was all about heroes. Its pictures of you
that they need. Hey,” he grinned to himself as Chip kept his eyes on the
road. “I bet I could find some very “un-hero” like pictures to send them…or how
about Helen giving them some of your childhood photos….how about those ones of
you at Helen’s wedding? That would encourage the children, wouldn’t it? Despite
an unlikely start this little boy in the kilt still grew up to be a strong,
manly hero!” Lee dissolved into laughter at Chip’s ominous expression.
“Least Helen keeps everything in perspective,”
Lee continued to chuckle as he returned his attention to the letter in his
hands. “I felt so sorry for the teacher I was tempted to tell her some of
your less heroic exploits.” “I wonder which ones she was referring to.
Maybe I should write to this teacher and tell her what you’re really
like?”
Chip merely raised his eyebrows and grunted his
eyes on the road as he pulled into the restaurant’s parking lot and reversed
deftly into a vacant space. Turning off the ignition with one hand, he released
his seatbelt with the other as he turned to his friend and held out his hand
for the letter. “May I remind you,” he said solemnly, “that without my heroic
efforts you wouldn’t be here today teasing me!”
“Are you finally admitting that what you did was heroic?” Lee asked equally solemnly
as he handed the letter over and released his own seat belt. Chip had never
been comfortable with the media’s insistence on calling him a hero and had
called the rescue mission “necessary but foolhardy”. Like Lee himself he was
very modest and saw all acts of bravery performed in the course of his work as
nothing more than his duty and he was always very keen to protect his own
privacy. Now his blue eyes twinkled as he considered Lee’s question: “I still
think it was a pretty dumb thing to do,” he grinned, “and I’m still amazed that
I did it but if Jason wants to see me as a hero it’s not my place to shatter
his illusions.” He paused. “Do you see yourself as a
hero?”
“No,” Lee shook his dark head.
“Even though you’ve done some
very heroic things?”
“Just my job,” Lee argued, honestly.
“Exactly!” Chip smiled triumphantly. “Heroism isn’t
something anyone aspires to. You don’t get up in the morning and say I want to
be a hero today but sometimes you find yourself in a situation where you have
to do something that others will insist on labelling you a hero for.”
“True,” Lee couldn’t argue with that. “Tell you
what, in recognition of your heroism I’ll buy dinner!”
Chip’s eyebrows shot up and then he laughed.
“Three years late but you’re on!” And with that they both exited the car and
entered the restaurant.