The Old Man

I met many eccentrics in the UK. Britain seems to breed them. There was an old man who would often frequent the convent. I'll have a lot more about him. He would come there for peace and relaxation. I've forgotten his name, and I am certain he is long passed (I met him when he was 80). He was extraordinary, and had many tales. He came from London, worked in a Dutch shipping firm in Egypt, and knew 15 languages. He married a German woman before the war (he was fluent in German). His wife was extricated back to Germany and he was drafted and sent to Greece since he knew Greek. Then he fled to Crete after that was invaded. Finally, he was captured and sent to a POW camp in Germany just 5 miles from away from his wife. His father-in-law visited once - the Kommodant told him, "You can see him once. But this never happened. Think of this favor after the war and bring him whatever you want." He later made a crystal radio in the camp out of used gum wrappers, and it is now in the British Museum. He was then liberated. I wouldn't have known any of this until we were watching TV together. "Call him J̌uḡašvili! His name was NOT Stalin!" after we watched a documentary. Then, I started to ask questions...