Tom’s parents had
separated several years before his demise so each was forced to grieve for
their only beloved son entirely alone in their own small corner, numbed in
comprehending it, and in terrible despair.
The marital
estrangement of David and Sydney was in part
owing to a feud over their differing beliefs at the time of the rise of
Nazism and the posturing of two of their daughters, Tom’s sinister sisters, Diana and Unity, who
were fanatical followers of Adolf Hitler.
Tom’s dad, aka Farve, who was David Mitford, Lord Redesdale, was a minor British aristocrat and peer of the realm ( see sketch, below). He eventually saw through Hitler’s deceit and corruption and thought the Nazis were a murderous gang of pests, but his wife Sydney, Lady Redesdale, thought that Hitler had such good manners and she believed in him.
Sydney preferred to sit things out on the
fence, in order to protect her two fascist daughters and ensure their
survival. The Redesdales could judge better than most of their fellow
countrymen and women since they’d met Hitler in
Tom Mitford also met Hitler through his errant sisters, and the two men enjoyed polite exchanges. The Fuhrer thought Tom intelligent, and Tom was respectful towards the tyrant. It was effortless for Tom because he was a good actor and a trained legal advocate. He was accomplished at hiding any critical inner feelings from being detected by convincing role-playing, and pleasing anyone, whether it be friend or foe.
Was Tom enticed by all the period drama, the rhetoric, the mass hypnotism, by the anti-Jewish fervour of the propaganda rallies? Yes, he probably was. Was he pro-Hitler? May be. Probably more pro-German, and he was no Jew-hater!
He was chiefly
present at these political events in
That brought with it a need to utter the shout of Heil! Hitler!, whether he believed in it or not.
Tom spoke the German
language fluently and could truthfully
declare his great unquestionable love for
The veracity of the cherished words chosen by David Mitford for Tom’s memorial at St Mary’s Church, Swinbrook, may be revisited but only with care. Such a daunting sentiment raised in glory to anyone is hard to expunge or dismiss after such a life cruelly cut short and early death. It stands as the most understandable expression of the heartache of a parent turned into an adoring epitaph.
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