The Story Behind Lighthouse

My name is Brian Callaghan, guardian of the Wolf Rock Lighthouse. Seamen trust my light to guide them through the night, the fog and the storm. I came here in exile a long time ago, for I’m not worthy of living among others. Soldiers who fought at war are left with timeless scars but my greatest sorrow doesn’t come from the battles, and it’s still haunting my thoughts to this day. Exile makes sense when a man loses everything. I’m not sure of the reasons pushing me to put these words down on paper, even my old diary is falling apart…Maybe writing my memoirs will help me find peace, redemption, who knows? But first, let’s start from the beginning, when there was happiness in my life. That was before the War…

I once had a most happy life, but that was before the war. So many lives were lost, and so many others like mine were ruined forever…

I remember those years like if it was yesterday, I would never be that happy again for the rest of my life. Captain and owner of a fishing boat, the “Anna” named after my wife’s, we were able to live a simple but good life. We had a beautiful house in town and our little girl Kelly was pretty and gentle, just like her mother. At the time, Anna was pregnant of our second child and, while I was gone fishing, she taught English at school. Those were our best years; we thought we had our whole life in front of us. That was before we heard of Germany invading Poland…We didn’t know our nation was going to take such a leading role in that growing conflict, but we knew we would get involved to a certain level.

On the twenty third of August 1939, i was excited to see my wife and daughter after more than a month at sea, this was going to be my last fishing run ever. Soon, war and conscription would turn our lives upside down and definitively put a seal on our destiny…

That day we received a letter and I silently looked at my wife, we both knew it was no ordinary one. I opened the envelope and immediately fell in shock to my knees, the letterhead showed a famous logo, that of the British Army… I couldn’t put my eyes off those two simple words: “Military Service”. I remember thinking about my father who fought the Great War of 14-18 and never came back. Will I share his fate and let my kids grow without a father? Oh dear Anna, I wish that day never came… But a man must overcome his fears and find the courage to do his duty. Two weeks later, on a rainy morning, I had to leave my family and everything I ever cared about.

My Dearest Anna,

It was so delighted to read your letter. I am still in the land of the living and keeping well. Learning that the birth of Liam went well is a great gift in this time of war. I am now even more concerned with your security and that of our children. I have corresponded with my sister in Coventry and she will arrange for you to move to her house. Her husband is also at war, she can use some company. Loren and her daughter Donna will be of great help with Kelly and the new born.

Although I’m missing you very much, I’m adapting to life and my duties on the HMS Fighter. Training is now over and we have been sent on the Atlantic to protect the convoys going from America to England, they are vital to the success of our war effort. I’m in charge of a small crew who will throw depth charges at U-Boats. Every day we learn about one or more of our vessels being sunk by a German submarine, we’re all afraid but also feverish in the waiting of our first engagement with them. We’re eager for a chance to sink some of those Nazis down to the seafloor.

I cannot quite express my feelings, I’m participating in the greatest battle the British army has ever fought. I cannot tell if it is God’s will that I should come through and it is a strange feeling that every letter I write to you may be the last one. If I fall in battle, my only regret would be to leave you and our beloved children.

Your love, Brian

For all HMS Fighter crew men, war really began on that day. I remember being asleep when “action stations” were sounded. We were all running to our battle stations when we heard a first explosion followed shortly by a second one. Once on the deck we could see that a large merchant ship from the convoy we were escorting had been hit by a torpedo. In minutes half of the ship was immersed and dozens of men were screaming for help, fighting not to freeze and drown into the cold Atlantic waters. The second ship that had been hit was a Navy Corvette, it was in flames and sinking fast. At that precise moment, looking at the two targeted vessels, I remember feeling the proximity of death, it was lurking around. There was no more certainty about any of us being alive the next day, and if we made it through that battle, it would only be a reprieve until the next one. We were ordered to load the depth charges and we did so in silence. My heart was pumping blood violently and my entire body was shaking but I followed the orders and proceeded like I had been trained for. With a bit of luck our ship was going to be spared and we would get a chance to retaliate. After witnessing two other vessels being hit by torpedoes, we felt the HMS Fighter shifting direction and moving faster. Four U-Boats had been detected and we were going after one of them. Dropping depth charges for the first time, seeing and earring them detonate under water was exhilarating. We felt we could make a difference, we wanted those Nazi bastards down to the seafloor. For twelve hours we played hide and seek with the enemy trying to force it out of water, watching for any sign of it being damaged by one of our bombs. Despite our efforts, we finally lost its track and had to go back to the convoy who was resuming its course toward England.Germany believed it could win the war by preventing America from supplying Britain with war materiel and fuel. On our first action, the Allies convoy HX134 of 42 merchantmen going from Halifax to Liverpool lost 11 ships. The Kriegsmarine U-Boats suffered no loss.

Daily Herald

The Coventry Blitz: ‘Hysteria, terror and neurosis’

The German Luftwaffe has bombed Coventry in a massive raid which lasted more than 10 hours and left much of the city devastated. According to one report, some 500 enemy aircraft took part in the raid. Wave upon wave of bombers scattered their lethal payloads over the city. The night sky, already lit by a brilliant moon, was further illuminated by flares and incendiary bombs.

“The whole city was ringed with leaping flames, bathed in brilliant moonlight and a few searchlights were sweeping the smoke-filled sky.” – Local survivor

Initial reports suggest the number of casualties is about 1,000. Intensive anti-aircraft fire kept the raiders at a great height from which accurate bombing was impossible. 4,330 homes were destroyed and three-quarters of the city’s factories damaged.

It had been four weeks since I was back from permission. The two other times I could go to Coventry and spend some time with my family were great but this third permission was very special because I could attend my son’s second birthday. Kelly and her mom seemed ok but I knew they didn’t tell everything, life was not easy for anyone during wartime. Although that permission had been a joyful moment I was very concerned and tried to hide it from everyone. I did not talk about the success of the Kriegsmarine on the Atlantic nor of the great dangers we were facing at sea. I only talked about the funny moments and camaraderie among the crew men. I spoke about the new friends I had made and how courageous they were, especially Dr White, a recently graduated young psychiatrist who came from America by himself to enroll and fight the Nazis on our side instead of getting on with his career. He was my best friend and confident on the HMS Fighter.

December 1941 would happen to be a turning point, the worst moment of my life. Never would I have thought taking part in such dramatic events. Never would I have thought losing so much, including myself…

On this cold morning I buried everything that I ever cared of; my family. Even though I couldn’t have known that this madness was going to kill my wife and children, I will always blame myself for sending them to their death in Coventry. Alas that these evil days were mine, the young perished and the old remained. No parent should have to bury their children.

“For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven. A time to be born, a time to plant, a time to pluck up what is planted and a time to die. Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? As it is written; even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, because you are with me. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate us from the love, from the love of God that is in Jesus Christ. Amen.”

At first it didn’t feel right to try to kill some other guys I didn’t even know, but that was because I hadn’t buried anyone yet.

When I left for war I gave an oath, a military oath, that if need be I’d give my life for the cause. I never thought my family members would be the ones paying the high price of war with their lives. Up to this day my soul still hurts, I’m broken and devastated. It would have been better for me to be wounded in an arm or a leg, my body would hurt, not my soul.

After the burial of my family members I was even more devoted to defeating the Nazi but now I was also eager for revenge. At one point I had developed so much hatred that I had no pity whatsoever, I could kill with a smile…

In the last moments of war I had earned so much trust from our captain and commanders that I was given more and more responsibilities onboard. What it got me to witness and participate to made me realise how inhuman and bestial we all had become. We now knew about the Nazi extermination camps as well as about the mass rape and murder perpetrated by the Red Army troops in territories they occupied …. And let’s just say that, the Allies… we’d like to think that we were as pure as the driven snow but in fact, some of our actions were cruel and sadistic as well. We sometimes acted inhumanly, individually as well as collectively. Months and months after it had been clear that we would win, we kept bombing German cities pointlessly; the worst was the firebombing of Dresden. Like Coventry, Dresden was told to be an important manufacturing center but, for many of us, its destruction was pointless in victory; it had more to do with revenge and terror. Between 125 000 and 200 000 refugees, women and children were killed in this holocaust…

On 8 May 1945 Germany surrendered to the Allies and the Soviet Union. War in Europe was over and celebrations were going on everywhere. I was torn by the feelings of war and I knew I was not the only one. Of course, I was happy that we defeated the Nazis, but pride and patriotism were tinged with shame and guilt. Guilt of having made it through intact while losing my family and so many war buddies, ashamed of what I had become, of what I was capable of… I couldn’t help but think that for every man that we killed there was a wife, a child or a parent crying for their loss. By moments, I cowardly placed my desire for raw revenge above my wish for a noble justice. I had sullied myself and felt the tremendous weight of my actions and their consequences.

By the end of the war I remember realizing that, of all my time serving on the HMS Fighter, I couldn’t remember any bird in the sky or fish in the Ocean. Of course, they were there, but I don’t remember seeing any of them. Isn’t it strange? Everything was black and grey, only the blood spilled was another color, red… At war there are no heroes and incredible feats, there are simply people who are busy doing inhumanly human things.

War was over and my whole world had been broken. I had no one to go back to and nowhere that I felt I could call home anymore; I sold my house with all my belongings and just left. The seasons passed by, followed by the years; I moved a lot, working here and there earning enough money to get drunk with cheap booze, day after day. By some miracle I managed not to kill myself and, one day, I saw an ad in the newspapers saying ‘Wanted !!! Keeper for the Wolf Rock’s lighthouse’. Surrounded by the sea, Wolf Rock was perfect for a man who was seeking solitude. This Lighthouse that I can now call home is where I have spent the last 31 years alone, all by myself.

For all of those years that I have been a lighthouse keeper, night after night I would look up to the sky searching for stars. It made me realize that there is only one story, the oldest; us human beings searching for some light into the dark, for a lighthouse beam into the fog and the storm, for something bright and worth living for into our lives. Although darkness was dominant for most of my life, I can now say that I have learned a great lesson; the amount of light one can see depends on his outlook, on what he puts his attention to. Easier said than done but, despite all the misfortune, I have learned not to wallow in self-pity. I know for sure that somewhere a child is laughing, unaware of what human kind is capable of, his cheeks red to have played outside for too long before diner. That true innocence might be somehow what we need to hang on to. Anyways… excuse an old man’s thoughts, a storm is rising and I have a job to do. This is the end of my diary. I’m happy I have told my story, I am old and feel close to the end now. To whoever will find this journal just remember; the world is made of light and darkness, don’t let your eyes get used to the dark too much, keep looking for the light; don’t let go, you will find it somewhere, somehow… This is your responsibility alone, you owe it to yourself and to the ones that you love, the remaining like the ones who are already gone…