The Path of Fate Hitler hated tomatoes! by The TaleWagger    Soon after my encounter with the talking tree, I discovered that Hitler, or at least some of his henchmen, had an intense hatred of tomatoes. My grandfather and his father before him had owned two substantial areas of prime agricultural land. One vast area, at the back of the village near the Southdowns, was used to grow lettuce, potatoes, carrots, parsnips, and leeks. The other was much smaller and, with houses on all sides of it, was completely covered in large greenhouses. In these, tomatoes and cucumbers were grown by the tens of thousands each year. Before joining the Royal Navy, my brother Denis had often told me of how, when he had been my age, he had driven grandfather's horse and cart around the nursery or helped to plough the cabbage fields. However, in '43 he was a radio operator on a minesweeper sailing to and from Russia with the convoys collecting and delivering essentials. By now, the RAF fighter planes were starting to intercept the Luftwaffe bombers on their way to London and the bombers were trying to attack by less direct routes rather than by travelling up the River Thames. One such route was over the East Sussex coast and very often they were intercepted in the English Channel and had to dump their bombs and scoot back to France. On one particular night as the full moon shone brightly in a cloudless sky they managed to sneak a little deeper into Sussex before being discovered. Finally they were intercepted and turned westwards hoping to skirt around the short-range fighters. A few incendiary bombs were dropped among the villages and towns to lighten their load. The Dr. Barnardo's orphanage, on the hill in the next village to ours was hit and we could see the glow from our back garden. It was a large building and the fire lasted into the next day. A private home that had several tins of paint hoarded in the loft was also hit and this time the flames could be seen as the pointed their fingers to the sky as if trying to warn of the enemy bombers. Then, as is seeking help, the flames spread to adjoining houses; several houses in the street were gutted that night. However, it was not until they reached my grandfather's greenhouses that the bombers dropped their main load of high-explosive bombs. None fell on the surrounding houses, they all hit the greenhouses. It was probably one the most outstanding examples of precision bombing that took place during the war: comparable to the Mohnesee Dam attack, I should not wonder! Every greenhouse that had tomatoes growing in it disappeared from the face of the Earth, but some of those with cucumbers remained standing. Admittedly, all of their glass panes were shattered, but some of the plants still had cucumbers on them! Someone came up with the ludicrous idea that, in the reflected moonlight, the greenhouses looked like a lake and the Germans ditched their bombs in it to save bombing our village. If this was the case, then why did they drop their incendiaries? It was obvious to me that spies for the Third Reich, probably the very same teachers who arranged for afternoon attacks to finish by going-home time, had informed Germany of what my grandad was growing and, although Hitler did not mind cucumbers, he obviously hated tomatoes! One day some historian probing deep into his sordid private life may confirm that this was indeed true. Of course, it could just be that tomato ketchup was used in fish and chip shops; he was infamous for bombing them!   The Path of Fate Click here for: Shelters mushroom. The TaleWagger can be contacted at: thetalewagger@hotmail.com

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