James Arbuthnott

...Gibraltar ...was in the main a naval problem, so the question arose as to whether we ought to have a sailor as a permanent member of L.C.S. ...

So far L.C.S. consisted of a stockbroker, a thriller-writer, a soap manufacturer and a retired Civil Servant, all disguised only for the purpose of war as officers. As regular Naval officers of any rank were at a premium by 1942, we naturally expected that at best the Admiralty would send us an intelligent peace-time yachtsman now ranking as a Lieutenant R.N.V.R. Instead of which, towards the end of September, Captain Cuthbert of the 'Fops' brought to our office as our new member James Arbuthnott, a full Commander R.N.

Arbuthnott had served in the First World War, retired from the Royal Navy in 1926 and become a tea-planter in Ceylon. There had had risen to Chief Executive of Scottish Lands, the biggest tea-planting corporation in the island, and ruled as their representative over scores of square miles of plantations, many white subordinates and thousands of native labourers. On the outbreak of the Second World War he had been recalled to the colours and posted to the Joint Intelligence Committee in Admiral Sir James Somerville's Indian Ocean command. He had become very friendly with his Admiral, which stood us in good stead, as Somerville was the present navel C-in-C Gibraltar …

James Arbuthnott was a tallish man with slim hips, a thin face and greyish, slightly wavy hair. He had the quiet manner so often associated with the 'Silent' Service and one of those bronzed, attractive faces that go so well with naval uniform. The corners of his eyes and mouth were wrinkled with much smiling. His unassuming, rather shy demeanour would not have led one to suspect that in civilian life, on behalf of his Company's directors in Scotland, he had wielded such power in Ceylon, but once one got to know him the reason for his having been selected became apparent. He was not particularly inventive or imaginative, but his judgement was extraordinarily sound and he possessed in a very high degree those qualities that go to make a great Pro-Consul - an inbred sense of justice, toleration and sympathy for the under-dog.

With the punctilio that I had made a rue, on his arrival in our office as my senior, I addressed him as 'Sir'. Then, on his first day with us when I took him out to lunch, he said, “My name is James and I'd like you to call me by it. With a number of officers working together on a staff, I don't think it is a good thing for them always to be saying 'Sir' and be standing up saluting their seniors.” This little episode illustrates his democratic attitude to life and his dislike of all unnecessary formalities. When I took him home to dinner a few nights later I introduced him to Joan as 'my nice sailor' and that he has ever afterwards remained.

...

I remained the only airman in the party and James, for over a year, the only sailor; whereas in due course the soldiers increased to five. So it was only natural that, as the sole representatives of our Services, coupled with the great liking we felt for each other, James and I to some extent shared our work. When I took my day a week off or went on leave, James took over all Air matters and when he was away I kept an eye on naval matters. This worked admirably, as neither of us was involved in Intelligence or Order of Battle deception which, as our spider's web was extended, took up a great deal of the time of the Military members.

James's greatest contribution to our efforts was perhaps his capacity for 'keeping his eye in the ball'. When the Section had got itself fully organized it was frequently the lot of three or four of us to hold round my table long planning sessions. During them when we wrestled, it seemed interminably, with writing and re-writing our papers, the rest of us were all too apt to go round in circles and get carried away into arguments about some side issues. It was James who would always bring us back to the crux of the matter. He also had a very fine sense of English often supplying the word with the exact shade of meaning we were seeking, and he derived much amusement from pulling my leg about my mixed metaphors, mis-quotations and errors in grammar. But this leg-pulling was always done in the spirit of Charles II's dictum - “That a jest should bite like a sheep not a wolf.”

Source: DW's unpublished Memoirs, slightly adapted for 'The Deception Planners' pp 89-91.