After reading about Ed Pearson’s experience with the Royal Family (April Forever Young), I remembered back in 1951, or thereabouts, when I was with the British Army, stationed in Klagenfurt, Austria.
I was with the RASC as a staff car driver. Another driver, my buddy and myself were detailed to pick up Lady Mountbatten and her party at the railway station.
She was accompanied by two senior officers from the general’s staff and her lady in waiting.
We drove them all to the deputy high commissioner’s house for the night and were detailed to pick them up the next day to drive them to Trieste, in Italy.
To do this, we had to pass through the town of Villach, Austria. The local authorities were waiting for us with the local police lining the route through the town.
There was a senior police officer riding in a motorcycle sidecar to lead us and he was stopping all other traffic in our path. Then, due to a mixup in communications, traffic came to a complete standstill. My buddy and I stopped on the side of the road and all the passengers got out to shop for souvenirs.
Belong long our guide came rushing back to see what had happened. He leaped out of his sidecar shouting, Was the wagen kaput?
I explained to him everything was fine, that Lady Mountbatten went shopping. He threw his arms up in despair, looked up to the sky and said one word, Frauen! (women). Ten or 20 minutes later, Lady Mountbatten and her party returned to the vehicles.
As Lady Mountbatten was getting into my car, she apologized for making us wait and commented that she most likely had caused us to be a little behind schedule. So there was a schedule to keep? Then she proceeded to make a request, asking me if I could please drive a little faster, so we could make up for the time lost. I said I would be happy to do as she asked. I figured you don’t argue with a lady of her stature. Most army staff car drivers would only dream of receiving such a request.
We left Villach and relieved the civilian police guide, and were picked up by a couple of military police outriders to guide us to the mountain pass to Italy, where they waved us on with a salute.
It was time to put the pedal to the metal, so to speak. I knew the pass fairly well and we had done this trip a few times with cars and lorries. My car was a Humber Pullman and my buddy was driving a Humber Snipe – both good heavy vehicles that could stick to the road on the curves. We were making good time when Lady Mountbatten’s escort slid the glass divider back and asked me to slow down for the villages. I did as requested. We got to Trieste across the top of Italy while it was still daylight and on time.
As I was transferring her Ladyship’s luggage to the car she had come to meet, Lady Mountbatten walked over, shook hands with me and declared that she believed that if we hadn’t had to slow down for the villages, we would have broken the record for the trip.
A few days later, back in Klagenfurt, our company commander sent for my buddy and me. He showed us a letter from her Ladyship, thanking us for a job well done.
Sadly, Lady Mountbatten passed in her sleep in 1960.
George Coates
ex British Army
Etobicoke, Ont.
