The Compass

Whilst here with Papa Spiro, he told me he had a surprise he wanted me to see and took me over to a nearby glass covered display desk full of what looked like junk and some old papers.  He removed an item and brought it to me.  Papa Spiro had in his hands what looked like an old aircraft compass, still contained in its original brass binnacle.

“Is the original compass from your uncle’s crashed Blenheim plane,” he said in broken English, ably assisted with some words by Kostas speaking fantastic English.

“What, from the plane which crashed at Lefkimmi in November of 1940?”

“Yes, of course.” Replied Papa Spiro.  “It is the very one. The Blenheim!”

Papa Spiro pointed to other nearby artefacts. “These pieces are from the plane also.”

Before me I saw a heavy looking propeller hub with twisted and mangled blades together with other various unrecognisable electronic and metal pieces.

“We pull these from the sea after the plane was crashed in the water.”

So, there I was standing at the rear of St. Procopius Church in Kavos, looking at objects Uncle Gerald would have known intimately, particularly the compass.

“You hold the compass.” Papa Spiro said, giving it to me.

I took the heavy brass object and held it in my hands. Very likely the last person to have peered into this when it was being used, was Uncle Gerald way back in 1940. I was proper choked up looking at the compass.

“Take it outside and look at it in the better light there.” Suggested Kostas.

All three of us went into the church courtyard where I surveyed the object with incredulity.

#Corfu #Lefkimmi  #Greece #GeraldsWar #EmotionalJourney #InspiringRead