July the fourth is the day on which every red-blooded American celebrates the birth of his or her nation. Well, birth is not strictly true, the United States was actually born on the day the Civil War was finally over and the continent was united under one flag. July the fourth is actually Independence Day and a celebration of the fact that several centuries ago, upstart colonials kicked out the British because they did not like paying a fair price for a cup of tea.
That at least is what is taught in schools on the rebellious side of the Atlantic pond. The real truth is that the fledgling Americans were assisted by the conniving and two-faced French Canadians without whose traitorous intervention the war would have been lost. But that is another story.
Given the distinctly anti-British nature of the fourth of July it comes as something of a surprise to see a celebration ceremony performed on the very British greenery of Barndem golf course. And yet each year on that forgettable day a small group of Americans assemble round the sixteenth tee at Barndem to celebrate. How could this be? The answer is a simple but tragic story which goes back to another war. Only this time the Americans were allies of the British and the French were licking their wounds.
Over paid, over fed, over sexed and over here was the cry when the Americans invaded Britain during World War II. To that could be added: and all over Barndem golf course. Since the Americans were invited by the British, invade is perhaps an emotive and unjust term. But to many the brash and intrusive presence of the American troops was overwhelming. It was tolerated however in the knowledge that it was only short term and the overbearing invaders would soon be laying their lives on the line.
Dwight Ankermann was a golf fanatic. His wartime posting to England as Colonel commanding the third company of airborne marines was a cause of considerable personal distress. It meant that his coveted daily round of golf on his beloved South Carolina course had to be given up and that was a lot to ask of such a dedicated man. Still, Uncle Sam had said go and go he did. It was not his war, but it was his duty.
Good fortune smiles on the righteous and Colonel Dwight found himself stationed at an RAF base very close to Barndem. Despite several polite but clumsy overtures towards what remained at Barndem of a committee depleted by the war, Dwight was refused permission to tread the turf of the hallowed course. It was not that he was American and therefore from a rebellious ex-colony, it was just that he did not have the right connections. Pedigree was important at Barndem but connections were paramount.
However, Dwight was a persistent and undeniably resourceful man. During the long months that his troops were camped near Barndem boredom had set in and the men were beginning to become a little too wayward for Dwights liking. Being friendly to the natives was fine but fraternisation and other more intimate activities were not acceptable. Dwight was a deeply religious man and had definite views on such things. If Bromide in their coffee was not sufficient then something else had to be done to occupy the misplaced energies of his men.
So it was that Dwight volunteered the services of the men to the upkeep of the course at Barndem. A deft pulling of strings had saved Barndem from being turned into farmland for the dig for victory campaign. An ex-RAF officer and Barndem stalwart managed to get some of the fairways nominated as emergency runways for the RAF station which meant that the turf remained. But with so many member involved with the war effort, petrol in short supply and tools requisitioned for melting down to make arms and weapons, the course was degenerating due to lack of maintenance.
Dwight’s unlimited access to the course was a small price to pay for such a magnanimous gesture. Inspecting the efforts of his men gave the Colonel a tailor-made excuse to walk the course, and what better way to inspect the work than actually to play?
For a while this symbiotic relationship worked well and within a short space of time Barndem had become the place for local American servicemen to play. Dwight was connected and therefore anyone connected with Dwight had the necessary pre-requisite to play. Though the fears of the remaining members of Barndem grew there seemed little option but to stand by and wait for the end of the war when the club would return to their hands once more.
Concerns for the shattered sanctuary of their club were raised to the highest limit when Dwight proposed a challenge match between a team of American servicemen and Barndem to celebrate Independence Day. Dwight’s motives may have been well intended but the suggestion was hardly the most diplomatic he could have made to the highly sensitive, staunchly British members of Barndem. They did not share his unbridled enthusiasm for the fourth of July. It was bad enough that they had to endure the presence of these noisy invaders but to celebrate an infamous British defeat on their own soil was rubbing salt into an ancient wound. However, showing the sort of tact and diplomacy most Americans could hardly imagine and certainly never comprehend the members of Barndem agreed to the challenge.
Immediately the challenge was accepted Barndem was faced with a problem, how to assemble a team strong enough to put up a good showing. Winning was important but not vital and certainly not worth lowering their standards to compete on terms with their aggressive and ungentlemanly opponents. What mattered was that they retained their dignity and were not beaten ignominiously. A hastily convened meeting of the depleted committee was called at which it became apparent that team selection was an impossible task. So many members were absent and handicaps had not been reviewed for several years.
A temporary captain and club secretary were appointed and a short list of possible players compiled. Handicaps were adjusted with judicious but liberal licence, generous but not blatantly so. It was known that to the Americans a handicap was a matter of ego. To them a low handicap was a sign of masculinity and prowess. In practice the struggle to live up to the egotistic status set by their handicaps made them look ridiculous. But this obviously worked in Barndem’s favour.
To add an air of formality and discipline to the occasion, local boys and sons of members too young to be serving in the forces were drafted in to act as caddies. Among them was a doubtful twelve year old called Henry Munroe. His family had a long and respected association with Barndem but the latest in the long line promised to break that tradition. Time would tell. Then there was an outwardly simple but willing lad called Bob Andrews and an extrovert called Bill Webster who despite his young age, many suspected as having dealings in the black market.
With twenty players in each team, ten matches were compiled, pairs being considered more sociable than singles. There was also the unspoken belief in golf circles that playing with a partner was better than playing solo; there was always someone else to blame. The last match was between Dwight and one of his Majors for the Americans and the acting Captain and Club Secretary for Barndem. Henry, Bob and Bill were acting as caddies for this match and in eager anticipation of a handsome tip for their efforts. History does not relate who the fourth boy was as he disappeared under mysterious circumstances to be detained at His Majesty’s pleasure. Barndem has a way of forgetting shameful incidents and their shameful perpetrators..
Despite the awkwardness of the occasion and the deep suspicion on the part of the Americans that the Barndem handicaps were a little generous, the match proceeded amiably. A dispute over whether the English or American ball was to be used was settled by Barndem allowing personal choice to prevail. For their part the Americans agreed to reduce the number of clubs in their bags from 14 to 10 out of concern for the poor boys who had to carry them.
For the most part the English weather had even shown unusual cooperation offering clear skies and calm winds, but it was to have the last word. As the last match turned for home to play the last nine holes storm clouds had begun to gather. Slowly the clouds rolled in from the West and blackened until by the fifteenth hole rain had begun to fall, gently at first but gathering momentum as the match progressed along the fairway. In the distance a rumble was heard and the Barndem captain was becoming concerned. He would have suggested abandoning the match but the Americans were in front and it would therefore have been bad form.
Golfers share a common fear of being struck by lightening; their metal clubs acting as conductors. With considerable trepidation the match proceeded to the sixteenth tee. At least, three of the players and all four caddies proceeded with trepidation, Dwight was in full flow. He could sense victory and was not going to let a little rain deprive him. Though his partner was not so sure, Dwight was his superior officer and the Major thought it would not be prudent to argue.
Standing on the sixteenth tee Dwight was silhouetted against the dark background by a flash of lightning. The streak of lightening that blazed in the sky seemed to scorch the tops of the trees behind Dwight and come to earth a few yards away. A creaking groan could be heard as if one of the trees were moaning with the pain of the fiery strike and slowly a large oak began to fall. To the horror of the watching players and young caddies the tree fell onto the unsuspecting Dwight just as he was about to take strike.
To this day no-one remembers the result of the contest, nor even who was winning before the tragedy of the last match. Not even the boys who caddied, now full grown members of Barndem, could remember. The only lingering memory in the young impressionable minds was the horrifying sight of Dwight being crushed by the oak tree.
One or two of the older members were convinced that it was divine intervention and retribution for the sacrilege of celebrating the colonial uprising all those years ago. Henry too was convinced it was some form of punishment for in the tragedy of the situation the players forgot to pay the caddies; an omission for which Henry never forgave the Americans. In this tragic incident was born his unyielding hate of all things foreign.
In memory of Dwight and his contribution towards the upkeep of Barndem during those difficult times the sixteenth tee was dedicated to his memory and named “Dwight’s End”. With this gesture a small part of Barndem became American soil.
As a further legacy the local air base was allocated ten memberships to be taken up by active American servicemen. And so it was that every fourth of July a small group of American members, family and friends gathered round the sixteenth tee to celebrate and commemorate.
American presence at the local air base was dwindling as the troops were returning home to be stationed elsewhere to cause their particular brand of chaos. How much longer Americans would therefore feature in the Barndem membership list was open to question.
But one would always have a presence at the club, Dwight Ankermann. He died as he would have wanted, golf club in hand; thrashing the Brits. Even though history relates with beautiful irony that it was an English oak that had the last say.