The Autobiography of Devon Miles
Oxford
A year later, I went up to Oxford. Unlike the United States, it is very unusual, if I may say so, to enter University at age 16. I did because of my strength in Math's, although that wasn't a particularly favored area of interest. Actually, I was fascinated by just about everything at that time. It was like sitting down to a table laid with a feast; history, philosophy, languages, law and so much more.
Of course, 1938 had been a watershed year, particularly in relationship to Germany and Great Britain. I don't know how my father had the foresight to take me there in 1937, when I was only 14, but if he had waited a year, it would have been an even more frightening proposition. Hitler's Anschluss or absorption of Austria was a major, terrifying, occurrence. And Chamberlain's appeasement policies left many of us feeling quite uneasy. Many Jewish Germans were fleeing the country, and a great many settled in Great Britain. By the beginning of 1939, I decided that my course in life would lie in the Diplomatic Corps and so, I began to read History with the intention of following with International Relations and Law. We declared war against Hitler and his allies on September 1st of that year, and I was sure that it would be a long and costly war. I prepared myself for a career that (I hoped) would be part of the rebuilding in the aftermath of a victory over Hitler.
Of course, I enjoy History immensely. I could easily see myself having lived in a variety of eras; striding across the ponti of Rome, discussing art, science, and pontifical politics with Michelangelo, walking in the wake of Jesus and his apostles on the Via Doloroso in Jerusalem, as a Viking in a long-boat surveying the Atlantic coast of what is now Canada or as a samurai in ancient Japan, bowing to my shogun.
I settled into my studies eagerly and easily. Of course my German was fluent, my French was quite good as well, and naturally I had a good deal of exposure to Greek and Latin as part of my classical, early 20th century English education. However, I thought that more proficiency in those two languages would help me with early historical texts and the older professors were more than happy to have a young student who was interested in their "dead" tongues. In addition, I continued with more advanced mathematical studies, philosophy, art, and music. My mother was quite musical and from my earliest memories come the times in the evenings, after the servants cleared away the supper dishes, her performing a short concert for us before it was time for bed. My love of classical music goes back to those evenings and the calmness Mother created for us before sleep. I regret that I am not terribly musical, and although she always claimed that I had the large hands and long fingers to become a concert pianist, I never relished the hours at the piano practicing. I wanted to be out of doors, kicking a ball and running like a little ruffian and she was eventually convinced that she was not going to change me into a little maestro. Still, classical music does bring me great joy.
Even cloistered in the study halls of Oxford, I was acutely aware of the War going on around us and the increasing danger and privation. Paris fell on the 20th of May 1940, followed by the Nazi conquest of nearly the whole of France on June 25th. Both my brothers joined the Army and Father sent Mother to our country home for safety. Oxford was free of bombing and one story says that Hitler wanted it saved so that he could make it his capitol when he conquered Great Britain. It's most likely apocryphal, but a good tale, none-the-less. What was true, was that many men, academics, students, staff, and servants began to leave en masse to support the war effort. At the same time, more and more women came to the campus, not just as students, but as government workers who were moved out of London and other dangerous locations. In fact, government offices took over many of the university's buildings. At the time of course, we didn't know about Bletchley Park, which was an hour away from Oxford. Alan Turing, who has finally earned the fame and glory he deserved, was a Fellow of Kings College, Cambridge and he went up to Bletchley to work in the Government Code and Cypher School and many of my professors and older students went up there to assist him. I of course, was too young to be considered for any sort of war-work. Along with the rest of the under-classmen, I assisted in taking on cleaning and cooking duties in the University colleges and working in the vegetable patches that sprung up everywhere.
By the spring of 1941 things were becoming more and more desperate; the United States had not yet entered the war but early in the year, their Lend-Lease Act was passed which provided us with significant material assistance. Many cities were being blitzed night after night and in the heaviest bombing of London on April 18th, Father (who was staying in our bank) was injured as the building collapsed. Fortunately, he had just gotten out of the door and was heading to the Tube and suffered "only" a broken arm and wrist. Churchill began advising the populace on what to do "if invasion comes".
I had just turned 18 on April 8th and planned to enlist at the end of the spring term. My brother Arthur had been with our troops in Greece and retreated with them to Crete after the Greeks capitulated to Germany on April 21st. For well over a week, we didn't hear from him, and Mother was naturally frantic. It was bad enough that Father was injured, but she did convince him to join her in the country, but with the turmoil over Greece and George being in the Air Training Corps, she had very, very mixed feelings about my military service. During the Great World War, she had lost a brother, three cousins and countless friends. To the end of her days, she never stopped mourning that "Lost Generation" of men.
Little did she, or Father ever think that I, the youngest of all their children, would be the one in the greatest danger during the war.
A month after my birthday, I had a surprise visit from a gentleman in good civilian clothes. His name was Norman Swan, and he could have been anywhere between 30 and 45 years old. Under his suit was an obviously athletic person and he moved with determination and precision. I was not totally surprised when he explained that he was from an unknown part of the military that had been quietly been formed to undertake spying, reconnaissance, and sabotaging missions in support of the war effort. They had been following several fellows' academic careers to determine if they would be good recruits into this organization. Now that I was of age, my background and abilities were a match with what they needed. I was being recruited into a group that would be involved with rather dangerous assignments. Was I interested?
