The Bar of Soap

When I was a young girl, about 10 or so, I went on a school trip. It was a most exciting thing to contemplate – 10 days away from home and off to experience a life of independence, adulthood and a chance to spread my young wings.

Several days before our departure on this school excursion in to the wilds of the unknown. I was with my parents in a local supermarket, buying groceries and food for the fortnightly shop. ( as was the custom in those days when one lived in the place called “ the country”. )

Then, in that supermarket, I saw it: a bar of soap.

It was 1965 and was probably one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen. It was a bar of Palmolive soap, in a wondrous box, festooned with images of beautiful women with silky smooth complexions.

I had to have that bar of soap.

I have been asked to revisit a story published by the Dusty Gulch Gazette in January 2025.

I should make one thing clear before I proceed.

I did not write it.

At the time, I had not yet joined the Gazette staff. My whiskers were elsewhere, my investigative notebook was still empty, and nobody had yet entrusted me with a gold tooth from a goat dentist.

The article was written by Shaydee Lane, who now works in our Human Interest section and concentrates on nostalgia, memories and matters considerably less likely to involve international security arrangements.

Having read the original article again, I believe this was a wise career move.

The January story announced that America had bought Greenland and was preparing to rebrand it as Orangeland.

I have now compared that report with what happened next.

What Happened to McFookit Peak?

By Roderick “Whiskers” McNibble
Dusty Gulch Gazette

It was midnight when the Sixth Cat yowled.

Poor Mayor Dusty McFookit was itching. Again. He had no idea why. And his dreams were strange. Instead of just the Feline 5, there was a Sixth Cat.  And a Mountain. What could it mean? 

He dozed in the early hours and pondered. He tried to put his mind to rest but something was calling him.  The Five Felines were uneasy. 

Mrs McFookit's legendary rolling pin glimmered in the dark: something was about to happen..... it was time for me, Roderick ( Whiskers) McNibble to leap into action... 

Between the mid-19th and early 20th centuries, more than a hundred thousand British children were sent overseas to countries like Canada, Australia, and other parts of the British Empire as part of what became known as the Home Children programme. This controversial migration scheme, which aimed to provide "better opportunities" for children in poverty, left a lasting imprint on the lives of those involved.

The Home Children programme began in the 1860s as a social experiment aimed at alleviating poverty in the crowded industrial cities of Britain. Many of these children, some as young as three, were either orphans or had been surrendered by impoverished families who could no longer care for them. The programme was supported by philanthropic organisations such as Dr. Thomas Barnardo's Homes and the Church of England Waifs and Strays Society, and was endorsed by the British government.

The Battle of Britain ended on 15^th September, 1940 but the Blitz continued long after that.  Following the evacuation of Dunkirk and the Battle of Britain a wealthy American living in London persuaded the government to form an RAF squadron composed entirely of Americans.

This is their story. 

When war broke out on 3^rd September, 1939 there was no mad rush of support for the causes espoused by Britain or for Poland and other occupied European countries. Americans were very much of a mind to remain out of any European war. There was no universal feeling of kinship towards Britain and there was, in fact, quite a lot of sympathetic support for Hitler.

The second most common language spoken in the USA at the time was German and to cap it all the Neutrality Act prevented any engagement, let alone involvement, by Americans with any belligerent country. That included Britain and France as well as Germany.

Amongst all that however, there was a core of sympathetic support for Britain and an eagerness by those who had learned how to fly to enter the fray. Among the various means of getting around the rigours of the Neutrality Act was to cross the border into Canada and proceed from there.