Liar! Liar!

By Bev Hermanson

Uncovering the urban legend that was John Edward Arnott…

When I first saw the lengthy debate online about what happened to John Edward Arnott, I couldn’t help exclaiming, “What a scoundrel!” My heart was pounding and I was jolted out of my reverie. “They got it wrong! It’s all wrong!”

According to urban legend, John Edward Arnott (JE), my paternal grandfather, had to leave his wife and 12-month-old son to go back and continue fighting for his country in the First World War. His plane was shot down and he was sent to a prisoner of war camp somewhere in Africa, where he contracted a tropical disease and died. He never made it home.

The quick answer was that he ‘disappeared’ during World War I. The only hole in the theory is that we couldn’t find any official record of his death. It appeared that his body was never repatriated to be given an honourable burial.

Well, we couldn’t find any record of when, where and how he died, because he didn’t die! His plane wasn’t shot down and he was never a prisoner of war.

Let’s backtrack a little because this info needs to be unpacked in stages.

JE was named after his grandfather, John Arnott, who was a farmer in Cumberland located in the extreme north-western part of England that bordered Scotland. His father, Hamilton Hudspith Arnott, was one of ten children (nine boys and a girl) and Hamilton and his wife, Jane, had five children (three girls and two boys) – bear with me, you’ll see the significance of these stats later.

With three of his brothers already involved in running the Cumberland farm, and a fourth choosing to become a cartwright (carpenter who makes carts) and joiner, Hamilton had the freedom to choose a different career and decided to become a priest.

Funny thing about the offspring of a clergyman, (and I’m obviously generalizing here), from what I’ve seen, they are either super-devout or complete rebels. Seems JE fell into the latter category because he sure had a knack for bending the truth.

The kids were all still young when Hamilton passed away in Easington, Durham in 1900. The eldest, Isabella, was 13 and the youngest, little Grace was only four. JE was six and definitely in need of a father’s firm control. That’s probably why, when he was sixteen, he was sent off to the British Merchant Navy. It was while he was serving as a merchant navy officer that he met and married my grandmother, Jane Swainston. He was 21, she was 33, that’s a 12-year difference in their ages.

They married in Darlington in October 1915 and nine months later, Jane gave birth to a bonnie little boy, Gordon Evelyn Arnott.

What I struggle to get my head around with this mismatch is that Jane was a teacher at an all-girls school and later became the headmistress. What kind of fatal attraction was it that caused her to marry an officer in the merchant navy? Was it love at first sight? Was it the uniform? Whatever it was, clearly it didn’t last because the first chance he got, JE ducked.

On the 3^rd of June, 1916, he enrolled at the School of Aviation. His son was born on the 14^th of July, five weeks later. It’s difficult to determine whether he even saw the kid in the flesh or whether any of his family were aware he was married.

However, online sources indicate that he changed his residential address – first to Baker Street, London; then Blandford Street, London; and finally, to Dean House in Great Titchfield Street, London. His mother’s address remained Langholm Crescent, Darlington and she was listed as his next of kin (not Jane, his wife).

From that time on, JE’s service record looks more like that of a kid with severe ADHD.