It’s an unexpectedly harrowing start to my interview with Dalbeattie’s Eric McCowan in his bungalow overlooking the grey granite town.
He holds in his hand a copy of a book on the sinking of the Lancastria, an ocean-going liner requisitioned by the British Government in June, 1941, to help evacuate soldiers and civilians from the coast of Brittany.
It details the biggest single maritime disaster of the entire war, the horrible loss of life and a chilling counterpoint to the miraculous evacuation of more than 300,000 Allied troops from Dunkirk two weeks before.
Eric tells me how the ship was crammed with more than 8,000 service personnel, women and children escaping the German advance to the Atlantic as France fell.
The Lancastria was a big ship, 16,000 tons but also a big target – and just as preparations were being made to steam out of St Nazaire she was hit by bombs from a Junkers-88 and sunk.
On board was Eric’s father Millar McCowan of the Royal Mechanical and Electrical Engineers (REME), who witnessed terrible scenes as the boat capsized.
“St Nazaire was one of the evacuation points for those trying to get out,” Eric says quietly.
“They had hung about for as long as they could then the Germans bombed the ship and the harbour area. One bomb went right through the Lancastria’s hold and blew the bottom out of it.
“The boat rolled over and my father slid down the side near the stern, close to where the propeller was, to get away.
“Quite a few people broke their necks jumping off the ship because the cork life jackets flipped their heads up when they hit the water.
“My father was in the water for four hours.
“After he was picked up he was in hospital in the south of England with stress after what he went through.
“Other than that he came back safe and sound.
“I was born in 1944 and would not be here if he had not made it.
“My father never really talked to me about it – I got all the information from my mother.
“Of those aboard, as many as 6,000 people lost their lives and only 2,477 survived.
“There’s a memorial to those who died at the Golden Jubilee hospital in Clydebank which is on the site of the shipyard that built the Lancastria.”
Eric shows me a photo of the memorial, a beautiful stylised hull atop a block of polished granite.
It reads: “Erected by the Lancastria Association of Scotland on the site of the Beardmore shipyard where the vessel was designed and built in 1920.”
Eric said: “As one of the survivors my father got a medal from First Minister Alex Salmond at Holyrood in 2008.
“The people who were still alive all got a medal and family members received them on behalf of loved ones who had passed away.
“But the London Prime Minister did not want anything to do with it.
“The Lancastria Association of Scotland fought for the medals and got them through the Scottish Government.”
Now 78, Eric tells me his mother, Olive Billson, was a Dalbeattie girl and her brother Albert had a paint shop in the town.
“She had eight children – Joy, June, Millar, Olive, me, David and twins Roy and Hazel.
“My father Millar McCowan was from the Shawhead area and his father James worked for a big estate there.
“I never knew my grandfather – I was born after he died,
“We were living in Dumfries when I was born and as a baby got christened by the minister in the house at Victoria Avenue near Palmerston.
“The family moved to a council house at Lochfoot and I was there until I was eight.
“My dad was an electrician, built radios at the Magneta company in Dumfries then worked for agricultural seed merchants Laing and Mather of Kelso.
“They gave him a car to go round the farms and every Wednesday he went to the market in Dumfries on the Whitesands where all the suppliers used to have huts.”
After Lochfoot, the McCowans flitted to Kirkgunzeon when Millar bought the old police house there.
“We changed the name to Braemar – and it’s still called that today,” smiles Eric.
“I went to Kirkgunzeon Primary but the only prize I won at the school was sports champion!
“It was a good wee school but we used to dread the dentist coming round.
“She had a foot pedal drill, belt-driven up to the handpiece, powered by her treading the foot pedal.
“You were always hoping your teeth we alright and you wouldn’t need a filling!
“After Kirkgunzeon I did three years at Dalbeattie High School and left at 15 when my dad got me a job as an apprentice electrician with W.D. Erskine.”
Working with electricity can be a hair-raising job if proper care is not taken – but Eric’s only mishap at Erskine’s was on two wheels.
“We were wiring some of the houses at Locharbriggs,” he recalls with a smile.
“Sometimes we were sent into town for supplies on a wee Vespa scooter with a box on the back.
“I was coming by the rubber factory and looked away to watch the folk going in.
“A bus in front of me had stopped and I ran into the back of it.
“I broke my arm and had to go to hospital to get it all plastered up.”
Nearing the end of his electrician’s apprenticeship he got another shock – this time a propitious one.
“It was in 1963 at a barn dance at Chapel Croft at Palnackie,” smiles Eric.
“That’s where I met Frances Turnbull from Dundrennan.
“It was the first time I had laid eyes on her.
“She was a year younger than me, 18, and we hit it off straight away.
“I took her home in my wee Mini, made some dates and that was that.
“We got married in 1967 at Dundrennan Church and had the reception at Ernespie Hotel at Castle Douglas.
“Afterwards we honeymooned in Morecambe for a week. Then I had to go back to work.”
By then, Eric recounts, his father had opened an electrical and fishing tackle shop in Dalbeattie, M McCowan, at 43 High Street.
In 1965 Millar opened a second shop in Castle Douglas at 90 King Street.
“But space was limited and when the chance came to acquire bigger premises he took it.
“Dad knew the chap at 50-52 King Street was selling up – it was a much bigger shop so he bought it.
“I left Erskine’s to come and work for him and after a few years he made me a partner and the business became M McCowan and son.
“He gave me a wee car and I went to jobs in town and round about in places like Kirkgunzeon, Kippford and Rockcliffe.
“We did a lot of repairs for farmers such as repairing overhead lines in dairy parlours and washing machines.”
Eric tells me Frances sadly passed away three years ago but children Kevin, Gillian and Andrew had seven grandchildren who brought much happiness – and now he’s also got two great-grandchildren to enjoy.
At 78 Eric still works in his shops and finds time to pursue his other passion – fishing.
“My dad was a big fisherman and always took me on the River Urr or Loch Kindar at New Abbey.
“I would come home from school and he would tell me to get my old clothes because we were going fishing.
“I would row the boat for him and we’d fish for brown trout.
“He died in 1982 and I got his membership.
“I must be one of the oldest fishers at that loch – I have fished there for 66 years.
“These days I’m a member of three clubs – Loch Kindar, Dalbeattie and District Sea Angling Club and Dalbeattie Angling Association for the River Urr.
“I’m the club ticket secretary and sell them through the shop.”
The water is not what it was in fishing terms and Eric is at a loss to explain why.
“It’s gone gey poor over the last few years,” he tells me.
“But many years ago you would get 200 or 300 salmon in a season.
“In 2021 there was only nine caught.
“Nobody can understand it – they blame these big salmon farms up the west coast and trawlers these days can track where the fish are with cameras on the beam.
“If they keep taking them out there will be no breeding stock left.”
It soon becomes clear that Eric has given much to Dalbeattie over the years, including more than 23 as a retained firefighter at the local station.
He joined the service on December 26, 1975, on the day, he tells me, his son Andrew was born.
Almost exactly 13 years later life was snuffed out in the sky over Lockerbie and in the town below.
“I was at the Lockerbie disaster,” recalls Eric quietly.
“We were doing our drills on a Wednesday night when the alarm went off.
“Billy Wood, the officer in charge, answered the phone and said we’re going to a plane crash near a filling station at Lockerbie.
“We thought it would just be a light aircraft but it wasn’t.
“We were down at Sherwood Crescent all night.
“The engine from the jet had gone right through the water mains so we had to get water from further away and ran hoses right down the main street.
“The houses were all burning where the crater was.
“It was dark and when the daylight came we were helping the police at the scene.
“The police had to deal with some pretty difficult things afterwards.
“It was a very unpleasant situation.”
Eric’s shops are still going strong, the Dalbeattie outlet thriving thanks to his forward-thinking father.
“Dad had 43 High Street and the next door shop was a grocer’s then Pullar’s of Perth dry cleaners.
“That finished and my dad bought it then knocked down the single brick dividing wall so the business occupied 41-43 High Street.
“That gave us more space for electrical stock and the shop used to sell guns as well – back then you did not need a licence and folk would just walk in and buy one.
“We sold all the ammunition too.
“Then mum and dad retired and Frances and I took over the business as partners.
“My daughter Gillian was working at Biggar’s Mill and when it closed she came to work for us, then we made her a partner.
“She now runs the business for us.
“I lost Frances three years ago in January – we were married for 51 years, four months and one day.
“She spent Christmas in the hospital but came home for New Year and died on January 10.”
Eric tells me he’s been on Dalbeattie Civic Week committee for 23 years, a Rotary member, a Dalbeattie Community Initiative director, a British Legion committee member and a Dalbeattie Museum trustee.
And he pulls another rabbit out of the hat when casually mentions he’s shot for Scotland four times in sporting clays home internationals.
His prowess in bringing down clay pigeons flying at all speeds and in all directions with a 12-bore Morocco shotgun took him all over Scotland and the British Isles, competing at the highest level of sport.
“At one down the line event I scored 296 out of 300,” Eric says.
“You need a good eye, to be relaxed and to know how far in front of the bird [clay] you need to shoot to bring it down.”
Eric also helped to run Dalbeattie Civic Gun Club in which Frances was secretary and treasurer.
These days he’s in an eight-gun syndicate on Gelston Estate but he could soon be putting his last cartridge in the barrel.
“This might be my last year,” he says.
“I’ll sell my gun and that’s it – then stick to the fishing.”
Dalbeattie Sea Angling Club – Eric is treasurer – often hires a boat to go fishing off Portpatrick, pulling in skate, bull huss, spurdog, pollack and haddock.
“I keep the haddock for the pan and put the rest back,” he says.
And what about taking it easy as the big eight-oh approaches?
“Gillian keeps chasing me to tell me I’m retired.
“But it’s my shop still and I like to keep an eye on it!”
