LONDON PRIDE

Imperial War Museum

By DAVID ROGERS

THE Imperial War Museum now stands in the Geraldine Mary Harmsworth Park, off the Lambeth Road. It was firSt housed in the Crystal Palace, and was opened by King George V on July 2, 1920.

'We cannot say, with what eyes posterity will regard this Museum, nor what ideas arouse in their minds.'

`Christ,' muttered the student, reflecting on the • King's words, 'half my College would sit down at the very name of the place.'

But, undeterred by any thoughts of imperial war, two boys had rushed ahead.

'My dad was in that, and that one, and that one,' pointing to a picture of some minesweepers. 'He couldn't have been. Not all at once.'

'Yes he was. And in that one,' triumphantly, 'he was killed:, We round them up, and take them to look at the thirteen-pounder that had fired the first British shot on land, at Binche, in 1914.

'How did you get hold of it?' a boy asks an

attendant.

'From the Army.'

'Why, don't they need it no more?'

'No. Not any more.'

, 'Well. It's a good gun. I wouldn't mind that.'

They hurry into the RAF galleries, and twenty identified Biggles gaze with awe at the cockpit section of a Lancaster. 'That's what he used in Sweeps the Desert, isn't it?' a small voice asks. 'No,' scornfully. 'That was a Typhoon, like that one there.'

'Look, Sir. A model of the raid on the Mane Dam. We did that with Mr. Peck.'

'That was 614 Squadron, wasn't it, Sir?' `No,' said a boy, neatly spitting some gum into the Lancaster cockpit, '617 Squadron.'

'Anyway,' piped up the small voice, 'it wasn't Biggles.'

We cluster round and listen as a gentleman who has attached himself to our party explains a model of the corner of Red Lion Street and St.

Theobald Street. Zeppelin L73 dropped a bomb on that corner on September 8, 1919. The Dolphin pub, and a branch of the National Penny Bank were hit. He explains what a Zeppelin was to them. He even explains the National Penny Bank. The Naval rooms are disappointing. 'It's all models, Sir. But look at this one of the Battle of Taranto. It says see it by night and day. All it is a lot of ol' lights going on an' off.'

'Why ain't it much good?'

I look in the guide book. On page 14 is written : 'Battleships cannot be got into museums.' The guide book is like that. As the kids inspect the uniforms I skim the pages. The Museum has 'one of the most important collections of contem- porary and near-contemporary British art in exis- tence.' However, a lot of these paintings 'because of restricted space are not currently on view.' My musings about cellarfuls of Nash and John and Richards and the barren walls of a school hall, are broken.

• 'Can't you read? See that notice. Keep your bands off the cases, it says.'

An attendant is yelling at a boy dressed in leather with 'Cher is ababe' inscribed on his jacket. His hands are pressed against the glass. He is making faces at a model of a uniformed lieut.- colonel of the Royal Horse Artillery. 'Oh, babe, he murmurs, in sheer delight, 'what would Ringo make of you?'

The attendant pants up. 'Can't you read? You must be able to read. Why do you do it? Keep your hands off it says. And keep your hands off it means.'

The student apologises.

'That's all right. But some of these kids. Rows. I'll say. Had one bleeder stuck his head in the end of a torpedo and his teacher said, "Now stay there and shut up or I'll go the other end, press the trigger and blow your head off." Well, I mean

to say. It didn't help. Kid was in tears. Biggest row since some bloke comes in in flying kit and says he's come to take the Spitfire away. And then, those that complain because their battle ain't shown.' Muttering, he wanders back to his post.

The galleries are being closed. Many people linger, especially in front of the Civil. Defence section. An old woman says, 'You can almost hear tffe sirens, can't you?'

For a generation being brought up in the faith that there can be no more war this is a difficult museum. 'Not exactly history, is it? Yet it's not modern, Sir.'

'How do you mean?' I ask.

• 'Well. Those bombs are medireval. But Law- rence, well, I saw the film. An' he was modern. Good as. I mean, he had a motor bike, an' all that.'

'Yeah. Norton I think it was.'

'They ought to have that on show.'

Talking excitedly they clatter down the steps. On Waterloo Station we wait for our train. 'Ere, Sir. Was you in the last war?'

'No.'

'Corse he wasn't. He was too young. My father was too young.'

Was your father in the war?'

'No.' said the small voice. 'But my grandfather was.'