MY SOLE HOLE IN ONE
During the later days of World War II when the presence of the 8th Air Force was no longer needed in England we were looking forward to a short stay at home and then, almost certainly, we would be reformed
and ship out for the Pacific theater, since the war with Japan was still in progress. During those months of 1945 we had more duty-free time.
Three of my friends were going to play golf and I joined them to make up a foursome . We went to a place called, I’m sure, Eton Golf course near Norwich, Norfolk County, England, by means of several changes of
double-decker busses.
On the course we came to, as I remember, the third hole and it proved to be a wild one. We were to tee off across a deep ravine toward a green we could not actually see. We were told the hole was just beyond
the high bunker which was build along the far edge of the ravine. So, that was the area to which we would want to direct our drives.
We did so, and all four of us made it across the ravine. We had to walk down a series of hairpin curved pathways to get to the bottom of the chasm and, then, up the other. It was the shortest hole on the entire
course, but one of the most demanding because of the mountain climbing training required.
We arrived at the bunker knoll to see that a foursome of British soldiers had been playing just ahead of us. They were just starting into the next fairway having driven off, no doubt in a bombardment of four whizzing
balls as we drove off across the ravine behind them.
We found our golf balls, all except mine, and the first man to make the cup let out a scream. ”It’s here, Andy! Your ball is in here! In the cup!
You made a hole in one!”
On my way to the hole from where I had been searching for my lost ball, I noticed the British foursome ahead had gathered in a knot and they seemed to be enjoying my hole in as much as were my friends! They
whooped and waved; shook hands with themselves above their heads...shouted their congratulations and waved! They knew more about it, obviously, than we did and being as sharp as the well-known tack, I decided that we
have been set up. I knew at once that my hole in one was a set-up by the British military establishment.
My drive must have struck near on to the Brits- or, I hope actually clipped his rear end, and , as joke - just to see what “those crazy Yanks would do” ‘ - he, or they, had dropped the ball into the cup as they moved
out.
They moved off and so did we. There was a sleepy old-timer at the Field House where we turned in our rented equipment. We had agreed not to mention any holes-in-one. have often wished I had bought that
driver and I still have the marked ball. It is a token of my one great golfing achievement - a superbly rigged hole in one - courtesy of a fine trooper of His and Her Majesty’s stalwart troops.
Thank you, Matey - wherever you may be.
A.L.M. September 5, 2002 [c-571wds]
