Johnny "The Rogue" Robertson
 Tribute
to Jock - Written by his family.
Read on the occasion of his funeral at South Queensferry Parish Church
on Monday 26 May 2008
The challenge in writing a tribute to a husband, a father and a grandfather with
such a huge personality as Jock the Rogue is what to leave out? If he could
speak to us now he would sum himself up as “a very good soldier.” He was born a
soldier and he died a soldier. He was a fighter throughout his life and he
fought solidly right to the end. Even just a few weeks ago he hit a very low
point and we thought that was it. The following day I told him “it had been
touch and go” and asked him if he had any plans for “shooting the crow”. He just
turned and looked at me with that indignant ‘what the hell are ye talking about’
look and said, “No! Canny have that!” But it was with Madge, or ‘Irish’ as he
liked to call her, that last Tuesday afternoon they agreed the battle was over,
“it was time to give up the fight.”
Life with Jock the Rogue was never dull. It was full of stories and there were
lots of laughs – usually at other people’s expense. He often used to say to us
“Christ, when I look back I could write a book.” And some of the stories that
have emerged, just even in the last few days, could fill a volume. He was a
great lover of books, and read with a passion. One of his favourite pastimes in
his retirement was taking his grandchildren Stacy and Christopher on trips to
Queensferry Library. So while we work on writing up the full manuscript, here
are the edited highlights of a book yet to be published, “When I Look Back” by
Jock the Rogue.
One of Jock’s famous quotes was: “If you’re going to do something. Do it well.
Or don’t bother.” In his 86 years Jock earned a reputation for ‘doing things
well’. He used to say that he was either very very good or very very bad.
Moderation was not a word in his vocabulary. As a scholar and a sportsman he
excelled at South Queensferry Primary School just up the road, under the
tutelage of the formidable Miss Bruce. She was a great mentor to him and even in
the last few months of his life he could still recall “Maggie Bruce” with a fond
smile. As a footballer he played for teams such as Glasgow Rangers, East Fife,
Norwich Albion and a string of international teams depending on where he was
stationed at the time. He was offered a signing by Glasgow Rangers in his teens,
playing alongside footballing legends such as Willie Waddell and Willie
Woodburn. But he turned it down because it meant he couldn’t play for the Club
and be in the Army. He would often regale stories of foreign teams he had played
with to his grandchildren. But his claim that he played for the Hong Kong
Rangers has always been a story too far for Hannah and Claire. “Half the lies I
tell are no true,” he would tell them and leave them to work it out for
themselves.
But one story that was very true was his love for his dear ‘Irish’. Jock was 30
years old when he met ‘Irish’ in a coffee bar in Montrose. She was working at
Stoney Morphey Farm on the outskirts of the town whilst he was stationed at the
Barracks there. His charm and wit swept her off her feet and on New Year’s Eve
in 1951 he proposed under the town clock in Montrose. Not the most conventional
of proposals but a proposal that set the tone for a relationship they shared for
57 years: “So how do you fancy becoming an army wife, then?”
And with his army wife, Jock went on to have three children, John, Morag and
Fiona.
They gained daughter in law Susan and sons-in-law Bobby and Doug. They shared
six grandchildren, Kim, Gary, Stacy, Christopher, Hannah and Claire. And
recently gained a grandson in law through Stacy’s recent marriage to Gary in
this church just two months ago. Jock was not an emotionally demonstrative
character and he concealed his compassion and sensitivity behind a wall of
banter and humour. But in 1957 his men saw the real man and I am sure they
respected him even more for the insight. As he stood on the dockside in Aden in
the Middle East and had to say goodbye to Madge, John (aged five) Morag (aged
three) as they boarded a ship bound for the UK because it was too dangerous for
them to stay during the fighting, he stood in front of all his men and wept.
But he survived Aden – just as he survived many of life’s other battles. Jock is
the last in his generation of a group of young men from South Queensferry who
joined the British Army in the 1930s to fight for the freedom of our country. At
the age of 17 years old with six weeks basic training he joined the 51st
Highland Division and found himself in the deserts of North Africa fighting
Hitler’s highly skilled German Panzers in the Second World War. Over a period of
six years he saw action in Burma, the Middle East, North Africa and Italy. He
rose from a corporal to a Warrant Officer and was selected as a member of the
elite Eighth Army, which drew ‘the cream’ from the Allied British Commonwealth
and American armies. A Tobruk Rat, he took part in the famous Battle of Tobruk
and El Alamein, the pivotal campaign that altered the course of the Second World
War and heralded the first of a series of successes that saw eventual victory
for the Allied Forces over Nazi Germany and gave us the freedom we so take for
granted today.
It was his Army colleagues that nicknamed him Jock the Rogue. His approach to
caring for his flock was along the lines of Robin Hood and he was not averse to
breaking a few rules to ensure his men were ‘well looked after’.
His war experience left him with little respect for politicians and the
establishment.
Although he was happy to rub shoulders with Prince Phillip, “a good bloke” and
patron to the Regiment, not least because of the Duke’s ability to call a spade
a spade and his lack of political correctness mirrored Jock’s own. Jock tells a
great story about when Winston Churchill came out to rally the troops in North
Africa, when the men took great pleasure in ‘booing him off the stage’ and to
which the officers ‘turned a blind eye’. That was certainly NOT how it was
reported in the media and lead to another of his great insights, “Don’t believe
everything you read in the newspapers”.
Another story that emerged only last week after Jock’s passing was of a sortie
he took part in with David Stirling who at the time was forming the SAS. His
regiment was in Italy and the mission was to blow up a petrol dump to starve the
enemy of fuel. Stirling went to the hierarchy in Cairo at the time and said he
wanted the “best of best” to form a group of men who ‘did things properly”. Jock
was selected to join Stirling’s group. The petrol dump was manned by the Italian
Army - so kitted out as Italian Army Officers the elite group entered the site
and began the process of planting the time detonated bombs. With time ticking
away the men were pretty eager to get out before the place went up. But the man
who formed the SAS wasn’t ready yet. Just as they were leaving Stirling told his
driver to stop. He got out of the car and addressed the Italian soldiers in
fluent Italian and gave them a sherikan for being badly turned out whilst on
duty. He even got a few of them locked up. He then got back in the car, turned
to Jock and said: “Did you like that, Jock? Good, wasn’t it?”
Still in Italy, in 1945, as part of the Eighth Army clean-up operation post
Monte Cassino, Jock was outraged when it was reported that the War Minister at
the time, Lady Nancy Astor, referred to the Eighth Army as the D-Day Dodgers.
This is a n extract from a poem that he wrote which was sent to Lady Astor at
The War Office in Westminster :
THE D-DAY DODGERS
By Jock the Rogue
1945, Italy
It goes to the tune of a 20s/30s song Lili Marlene
We are the D-Day Dodgers out in Italy
Always on the vino and always on the spree
Eighth Army sleuthers and the Yanks
We stay in Rome and rob the banks
Dear old Lady Astor
we hope you get to read this
we know you’re the nation’s pride
we also know your mouth’s too wide
Now look around the mountains, among the mud and rain
See all the scattered crosses and some which bear no name
Heartaches and troubles, suffering gone
The boys beneath they slumber on
They are some of the D-Day dodgers who stayed in Italy
Funnily enough, he never got a reply.
After being demobbed at the end of the war, this is a testimonial written by his
Commanding Officer, Captain Pinkerton, on his British Army Release Leave
Certificate issued at the age of 24.
Military Conduct: Exemplary
Testimonial:
This Warrant Officer has always shown himself to be honest, hard working, sober,
reliable and trustworthy. An excellent Sergeant Major who has earned the respect
of those who have served with him. A good footballer and sportsman on and off
the field. Recommended for any position of trust.
Jock returned to South Queensferry for a short time before rejoining the Queens
Own Cameron Highlanders where he refused to go in at the level of Warrant
Officer because in his own words, “he wanted to earn the respect of the men that
would serve under him”. So he worked his way back up to the point he was offered
an officer commission. He turned it down, and turned down a further two more
commissions because in those days, “you didn’t cross the line.” But John has a
different take on this. He reckons Jock told him that he turned the officer
commissions down because if the regiment came under attack “it was the officers
who got shot first!”
Jock left the Army in 1961 and before joining the Civil Service as a Customs and
Excise Officer; he was offered the position of The Beadle of St Giles Cathedral.
We’ve often thought that would have been a more appropriate job for him and an
outlet for his theatrical tendencies. Her Majesty’s Government was not really a
suitable appointment for a man they called ‘the rogue’.
Jock was also something of a media celebrity. He took great interest in current
affairs and enjoyed rattling the cages of MPs and Government Ministers. He was
the bane of local MP Tam Dayell’s life. It is said that the reason Tam Dayell’s
addresses at the Rosebery Hall got such a good attendance was because if they
heard Jock was turning up there was no doubting ‘a few awkward questions’ would
have the MP squirming in his seat. He was a regular contributor to the Scottish
newspapers and was on first name terms with Margo Macdonald when she hosted the
politics show on a Sunday morning. He wrote to Mrs Thatcher on several occasions
and here is a quick extract from a piece that was published in the Sunday Mail
in June 1986:
“Good of Maggie telling the Israelis how to get on with the Palestinians. I hope
they asked how she was getting on with the Irish.”
He also held strong opinions on Colonel Gadaffi. This piece was published in the
Sunday Post in May 1986:
As an old Desert and Tobruk Rat during and after the war, I write from
experience. Colonel Gadaffi couldn’t make acting, unpaid lance corporal in a
good Scottish regiment. The rows of ribbons he wears must have come out of a
street market. From my experience his forces couldn’t fight their way out of a
wet paper bag.”
But as well as his interest in world affairs, Jock was a Queensferry man through
and through. He starred in the first ever Ferry Fair as a crown bearer to the
first Ferry Fair Queen, Emily Bain in 1930. He trained as a butcher before
joining the Army and was the first ever butcher-boy to approach Giddie Fairlie,
the skinflint local butcher, for a rise in pay and get it! He returned to
Queensferry in 1963 to ”give his children a good education” and was proud to
serve as the village Town Crier, leading the Ferry Fair parade for many years
until his health prevented him doing so.
Ill health struck Jock 5/6 years ago and led to a major decline in his quality
of life. He was cared for at home by Madge until March last year when he
deteriorated to such a level that he needed 24 hour nursing care. Jock spent the
last 14 months of his life at Guthrie House Nursing Home in Edinburgh where he
was very well looked after by all of the caring staff there. Jock was one of
their more ‘challenging’ residents. They knew him as a ‘fighter’ and he fought
right to the end.
But despite the challenges, his life long charm did the trick and the staff at
Guthrie House could see through the vascular dementia and touch the essence of
the character that he was. As a family we would like to express sincere thanks
to all of his carers. In particular special thanks to Irene, Antony and Reggie
and staff nurses Jacquie, Maricar, Emma and Anne. He might have been down but he
wasn’t out - in his final days Staff Nurse Jacqui confided that he was ‘her
boyfriend’!
So although a lot has had to be left out we hope that this tribute touches some
of the cords in your memories of John Simpson Begbie Robertson. Cantankerous,
eccentric, unpredictable, outspoken, apolitically correct, tremendous sense of
humour, we could go on. But one thing marked him out over everything else. Jock
the Rogue was a
‘very good soldier’ and he was one of life’s true characters.
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