LT Col Terrence Kitcat - The Awesome ‘Sailor’
LT Col Terrence Kitcat - The Awesome ‘Sailor’
LT Col Terrence Kitcat - The Awesome ‘Sailor’
Born in east London in 1908, Terrence Kitcat came to Dartmouth as a cadet at the Britannia Royal Naval College, before becoming a midshipman in 1924. He took the role of navigator on submarines, in a time when getting into a submarine was an act of extreme bravery. During the First World War Britain lost 50 of its 77 submarines.
But his life changed forever when he saw a display by Army horsemen in Wembley in 1930 – he decided, in a manner which will become familiar, that being in the army would be ‘More fun’ than the navy and transferred, less than a year later, to the Artillery. He became an accomplished horseman after training at the Equitation School at Weedon.
One of his famous stories was when he led the funeral cortege for King George V with a broken collarbone following a fall from his frisky horse. He rode that horse for the whole way keeping his sabre upright and his horse under complete control, by strapping his sabre arm to his side with a belt.
So great was his skill at riding horses that he considered leaving the army to become a National Hunt Jockey – but then the Second World War intervened.
He was sent to North Africa to command an artillery battery.
There, they were attacked by a German force with tanks and mounted machine guns not long after he took up the post.
Outgunned, he ordered a retreat. The artillery took up positions six times on their 12 mile journey to safety, inflicting sufficient damage on their opponents that even when the British ran out of ammunition, the Germans could not press home the advantage and the majority of men made it home safely. For his calmness in the heat of battle he was awarded the Military Cross.
His exploits put him in line for a promotion – something he would clearly hate. In a letter home to his mother he said he would be ‘left counting spoons in the mess’ rather than being part of the action. He needn’t have worried.
In 1943 he was taken into the secret service, known at the time as ‘The Special Operations Executive’ in official documents and by those within the organization as the ‘Baker Street Irregulars’ (after the group’s headquarters) or ‘The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare’.
He was put through a crash (pun intended) course in parachuting and was soon jumping out of a plane over Macedonia, having been chosen for the role of an agent provocateur in mainland Europe. He was stationed with his colleague and close friend Capt Paul Pike, fighting a guerrilla war. They worked with Anti-Nazi groups - who became known as ‘Kicat’s Dragoons’ - sabotaging and ambushing Nazi and pro-Nazi soldiers.
During one of their operations Capt Pike was shot in the leg and taken prisoner. A few days later the Greek washerwoman of his cell handed him a note written by Kitcat: “Am within five minutes of you, arrange contact, expect me anytime in any guise, yours till hell freezes over, Sailor.”
Capt Pike scribbled back to tell him not to bother as his injury meant he couldn’t travel. Kitcat heeded the warning but had a stolen car standing by to get Pike to safety.
He was next sent to Malaya to do the same job working against the Japanese.
After being selected for the British Winter Olympic ski-jumping team following the war, he found himself unable to attend the event after breaking his leg in training. So instead he went to the Arctic to test cold weather equipment and clothing in temperatures as low as -50˚ Celsius.
He was seconded to the American secret service and carried out operations in Iraq, Singapore, Hong Kong, Turkey, Malaya and Korea during the war there. During his time in Korea, he sailed a junk up the coast of Korea to make contact with a series of observation posts on the islands off the mainland, coming under shellfire on at least one occasion from Chinese batteries.
He worked on many clandestine operations throughout the 50s and 60s, including running the training of secret service personnel in Gosport and gathering information on Russian missile launchers in Armenia.
He retired in 1967, receiving the CBE for his service to the Crown and became a skiing instructor. He travelled all over Europe but always returned to the Torbay dry ski slope.
He was always a keen sailor, crossing the Atlantic many times. Once, after a particularly hairy crossing he came into Dartmouth as the sun broke through the clouds,and decided on the spot to settle here. He bought a house up Horn Hill steps and became famous for his stories and generosity, his wit and sense of fun.
He was once observed running up and down the steps outside his house. When asked why, he said because he had a pain in his chest, so if he didn’t drop dead he’d know it was indigestion.
Thanks to his time in hot climates, he suffered late in life from skin cancer and had his ear removed. It was replaced with a prosthetic one. As he got older, and deafer, he was prone to taking it off, holding it up to whoever he was speaking to and asking ‘Speak up please!’
In 2003, after what can only be described as a particularly full life, he died, at the grand old age of 95.
His obituary in the Times in November of that year ended with the words: “He was, perhaps unsurprisingly, unmarried.”
He was a true, endearing character you couldn’t make up. He could only have lived in Dartmouth.
by Phil Scoble
First Published July 2013 By The Dart
