My Brother, the Spy

This memory involves my brother Edwin who, at the tender age of eleven years, was accused of being a collaborator. I remember the evening well. My mother went to answer the door and found a policeman standing there. The officer wanted to question Edwin (who I believe was in the bath at the time), regarding a fire that had been lit on the Knockagh (or “up the Knockagh” as we used to say). The Knockagh was a near-by hill and it was believed that the fire had been lit on it to guide enemy planes. Some boys had given Edwin’s name as the perpetrator. I can’t remember how he was exonerated — but he must have had a good alibi!

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