Doug and Edith (2)

Introduction

Rory and Ita are the parents of well-known writer Roddy Doyle and his book about them inspires me to think and write about my own mother and father. Though Doug and Edith have passed away I'm sure they're happy to see me reading about parents and that I only paid $3 for the book.

 
   Edith: Gordon will be reading about us someday.

   

   Doug: Maybe writing about us as well.

   Edith: Oh dear. Do you think he knows about that time we... ?

   Doug: Shh. 

Most of my parents' secrets are safe with them. But my mind does wander back to their earlier days - and my own - while reading.

Nicknames tell a bit of the story

I know three of my father's nicknames: Silver Fox, Cactus and Do-Go. They came to mind while reading a passage about Rory's. Because he went to school on a regular basis and excelled in some areas he acquired a handle.

     'I was the Professor, because I read
     the school books. I was good at school,
     good without killing myself. It was a
     badge of erudition - Professor.'
     [pg. 53, Rory and Ita]

My father was called the Silver Fox because his full head of light red hair turned a lovely shade of white and gray as he aged, and he liked to comb it, comb it, comb it straight back, just so. Someone in our family may have given him the nickname because he regularly stood in front of the kitchen mirror - combing, combing - until he got it right with the help of a little dab of Brylcreem. [YouTube TV ad, 1950] I heard my sisters use the nickname (likely for the first time in the 1970s or '80s) but not my mother, or anyone else outside the house.

[Click here for Brylcreem photo link]

I read about 'Cactus' and 'Do-go' for the first time while perusing my father's Navy records, so the two nicknames date back to the early 1940s and World War 2. They are mentioned on more than one occasion in my father's Naval memoirs as well:

     In the navy nicknames abounded. Depending
     on the time of day and the situation at hand,
     my nicknames changed. Usually in the evening
     aboard ship I was called Cactus because I carried
     a battered old guitar and it was time for a few navy
     ditties. At other times I was called Do-go, which
     when translated into navy language by my navy
     comrades meant, "Get out of our sight, move it."
     [pg. 110. "DAD, WELL DONE"]

["Cactus and Rosie (Chuck Rose, Chippewa) in Comox, B.C."]

I believe Cactus only appears once in father's memoirs and in the above instance appears to be related - in my father's mind at least - to his guitar and navy ditties, perhaps because he reminded others of a lonesome cowpoke singing homespun tunes around a late-night campfire.

That image was not the first thing that sprang to my mind when I discovered the nickname. When I first saw it in his records I felt someone had really nailed it, that is, had found a name for the type of prickly-pear personality he exhibited on more than one occasion during my childhood and adult years. It seemed a very appropriate handle for the man who, after returning from the war front, took a train from the east coast of England to the west coast of Scotland to duke it out with a man he detested, known only as 'black-garters' in his memoirs. ("I made up my mind then that I would get back at black garters, and I connived to do it while on a leave, and I damn well did." Dad's Navy Days 19)   

However, now that I've read more about when and where he purchased the guitar (while sailing around Africa toward D-Day Sicily, 1943), the types of songs he sang (about home and mothers: "Always be kind to mother, she is your friend to the end...") and their affect upon his comrades ((Officer) Rogers would emerge from his cabin and say, "Keep it down to a dull roar, boys"... Some of us, including a young, apple-cheeked Mr. Rogers, shed unhidden and unashamed tears...' pg. 100, "DAD, WELL DONE"), I realize 'Cactus' may have chiefly positive connotations.

["The men who manned the barges in Sicily, perhaps

aboard the SS Silver Walnut; Do-go, back centre"]

And though 'Do-go' seems to begin with a negative meaning aboard ship, i.e., 'Doug, go, move it', I hear of it in more positive terms later in his memoirs:

     After about a month (in Italy) Do-go had a tearful
     goodbye with his friend peepo. He stood on the
     beach and I on my landing craft, waving our
     goodbyes. What a strange war. I have thought of
     him often...my name was Do-go which I am still
     called today at navy reunions... [Ibid, 117]

["The Silver Fox and Rosie at a Navy reunion, sitting

in front of the insignia for Combined Operations"]

Cactus and Do-go were never uttered aloud while I grew up at home. Any information about my father's Navy experiences was only revealed at a later date.

I always called him Dad. And still do now, in thoughts and conversation about him.

Photos by GH

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Please click here to read Doug and Edith (1)