Blossom
of a life cut short
A magnolia tree stands in the grounds of
Emsworth's Roman Catholic church dedicated to the
memory of a former alter boy who perished in the
South Atlantic.It
flowers in May - the same month that the
blossoming career and life of Paul Callus was
tragically cut short by the ferocity of an
Argentinian air attack on HMS Coventry.
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'At
that stage the names of the ships weren't
released but we both had a terrible
feeling.' |
Marine Engineering Artificer
(Mechanical) Paul, 24, was in the engine room of
the Portsmouth-based Type 42 destroyer on the
afternoon of May 25 when three 1,000 pound bombs
tore through the ship killing 19 crew members.
The cruel irony of the tragedy
is that Paul should not have been on the ship.
`He had been on HMS Coventry for two and a half
years and was due to leave the ship,' recalled
his mother June. `His relief was already on
board, but was not completely au fait with the
job, so Paul stayed on a little while longer and
they ended up both going down to the Falklands.'
During his time in the South
Atlantic, letters from their son revealed
optimism turning to fear, especially upon the
loss of HMS Sheffield. In a letter which arrived
after his death he confided that he and his
comrades were `scared witless.'
It continued `please don't
worry about me, as I think they are not posing
too much of a threat to us and I cannot see them
resisting an invasion once our troops have
landed, if South Georgia is anything to go by.'
But after a career in the Royal
Navy spanning 35 years, Paul's father Brian
Callus was well armed with technical information,
had mentally assessed the risks and was
apprehensive about Britain's prospects in the
conflict.
He knew the Argentinian air
force posed a grave threat with wave skimming
fighter bombers and lightning sorties screaming
out from behind land cover. But nothing could
prepare him for the devastating news that Paul -
the youngest of his three sons - had been killed.
Mr and Mrs Callus were living
in Africa when the conflict flared in the South
Atlantic in 1982. Brian Callus, who had retired
from the Royal Navy in 1974 with the rank of
Lieutenant Commander, was working as the
electrical engineering manager of the Zambia
Sugar Company.
`We were listening to the BBC
World Service and picked up the news that two
destroyers had been hit,' recounted Brian. `At
that stage the names of the ships weren't
released but we both had a terrible feeling.
`Then they disclosed that one
of the ships was a sister ship of HMS Sheffield.
Well that narrowed it down to HMS Coventry or HMS
Glasgow. Then on a much later bulletin they said
it was Coventry and at that time we had
absolutely no way of knowing whether Paul was a
survivor or not,' he said.
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'I
would be looking at people celebrating
their survival. I didn't begrudge them
that - but I didn't find it easy to cope
with.' |
The couple's hopes were raised
only to be later dashed when a telex initially
did not have their son on the list of casualties.
`I still had a pretty bad feeling about it,'
confided Brian. `The following morning when I
went to work the general manager came into my
office with a piece of paper and I could see from
his face that it was bad news.'
The casualty list had been
revised and the last name on it was Paul's.
Brian drove back to his house,
where his wife June was playing tennis in the
cool of the Zambian morning. She only needed to
take one look at her husband to know her worst
fears had been confirmed.
The couple immediately flew
back to their Emsworth home to comfort their two
other sons, Stephen and Peter, who had arrived
from Miami, and Paul's young American widow
Cindy.
A memorial service was held for
Paul and about 400 people packed the church at
Emsworth. A magnolia tree was planted in his
memory and a commemorative plaque was made at HMS
Collingwood.
It was to be a particularly
harrowing time for Mr Callus as within a week of
his son's death he received word that this mother
had died, and on returning to Africa he was
further traumatised when he disturbed a burglar
in his home.
He had returned to Zambia three
weeks afterwards as he found the media attention
too oppressive, and he couldn't bear to watch the
televised tumultuous homecoming welcome for the
survivors. `I would be looking at people
celebrating their survival. I didn't begrudge
them that - but I didn't find it easy to cope
with.'
And now, 15 years after Paul's
death Brian and June Callus are still tormented
by the illogical feelings of guilt. `Paul had
spoken about leaving the navy and I wanted him to
stay on longer to gain more experience,' said
Brian, 72.
`When he was a young apprentice
I remember him saying that he felt he was being
well paid for what he was doing. And I remember
telling him that one day he might well have to
pay for it.'
Mr and Mrs Callus, who are now
both retired, live in the Dorset village of
Winterbourne Whitechurch, and have asked us to
convey their heartfelt thanks to all those who
sent messages of condolence following Paul's
death.
Too good for this
earth
Two weeks before the bombing of
HMS Coventry, June Callus had an uncanny
premonition of her son's death.
She was in the lounge of her
Zambian home when she said out loud to a guest
`Paul's not coming out of this alive'.
`Of course, she told me I was
just being silly, but I could not rid myself of
the feeling,' said June.
It was not to be the first time
she had feared for the safety of her youngest
son, a former pupil of St John's College,
Southsea - whose birthday, January 10, was to
coincidentally become Margaret Thatcher Day in
the Falkland Islands.
`As he was growing up I
sometimes looked at him and felt that he did not
have long for this earth. There was no medical
evidence to support this - I suppose it was just
intuition.'
She added, `He was such a
lovely boy - too good for this earth.'
Premiers words of
solace for a family
Within days of his son's death
Brian Callus wrote to Prime Minister Margaret
Thatcher urging her to make sure the Falklands
campaign was successfully completed so that
Paul's sacrifice should not be in vain, and
offering his support.
He received a reply on official
Downing Street stationery, which had been written
on June 14 - the day of the Argentinian forces'
surrender.
Her letter read as
follows:
`Dear Commander Callus,
Thank you so much for your inspiring letter of 5
June. I know that nothing I say will make up for
the loss of your son. But he gave his life for
very important principles, and that will never be
forgotten. I am determined that Argentina should
not profit from its aggression, and your prayers
and support mean a lot. With all my sympathies.'
Added to this was a
handwritten paragraph which stated:
`And today we
have received the news we have been waiting for
and it is all due to men like Paul. A sad, but
proud day for you.
Yours
sincerely,
Margaret Thatcher.'
Memories
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