Captain Waugh's unpublished scoop concerning Tito

By W. J. Igoe
This is a memoir of slight acquain tance. Its substance was brought to
mind by a letter in The Times, published recently. The writer was Mr. Anthony Rhodes, who revealed
some interesting facts about Evelyn Waugh and a political intelligence report he made on 'I'ito's war in
Yugoslavia. Interest is Increased in
the year when Marshal Tito is a Nohel Peace Prize candidate.
Captain Evelyn Waugh, as he was, served with the 37th Military Mission (hi the partisans In Yugoslavia. When . he returned to England, Mr. Rhodes writes, he submitted to the Foreign Office "a detailed report describing how Catholic priests were being murdered without trial as part of deliberate Communist policy of extermination of the Catholic Church in
Yugoslavia. He quotes dozens of in dividual cases with names and horrifying details of the executions."
Unless i am mistaken I had that report in my hands before it was taken to the l oreign Office. But my impression is that Waugh, a very regimental officer, took it to the War Office. 1 did not read it. Captain Waugh withheld permission. it happened as follows.
In 1945 1 was news-editor of the Catholic Herald and Michael de la Bedoyere was editor. It was a happy relationship: we were friends, we produced a good paper and we knew it. We made our own rules and one was that we saw no one nn press day. One press day Captain Evelyn Waugh called, presented his compliments and asked to meet one of us. I, who would consider It an honour to meet Waugh on Judgment Day, departed from the rule.
I recall a small, physically compact, unobtrusively elegant man, courteously grave in manner: the
pugnacious bantam of the popular image is unrecognisable, remote, alien
to the mental picture i retain of
Waugh at that time.
He told me he had served in Yugoslavia and had prepared a report on his observations there. Horrible things were happening. The so-called
Marshal Tito, he considered criminal. He had in his hands a manuscript white quarto sheets, as I recall --± which he handed to me. The top sheet indicated that it was a report, no more.
He was not, as yet, free to allow me to read it, he said, and took it back. He had to get clearance from the War Office (as I remember). Given that he received permission, would we in the Catholic Herald publish his report exactly as written? Were we interested in publication?
Throughout the conversation Waugh spoke quietly. His comments on the cruelty of Titn and his partisans were not expressed indignantly.
Indeed, I recall thinking he might have been reporting to another officer to whom he was giving intelligence or a subordinate whom he was briefing.
He seemed to be unaware of his eminence as a writer, which was disconcerting to me as a younger man who believed him the best writer of prose in England.
1 knew that we could not publish the report as soon as he told me he had to get permission from the War Office.
Waugh left the office. As 1 expected, we did not see him again and I was puzzled by the visit. We on the Catholic Herald had a
reputation for our foreign news
coverage. We who were young were
conscious, and very conceited, about that. had not C. K. Chesterton said ours was the best European coverage on any English newspapers? But, I
thought, surely a writer of Waugh's stature might command a daily paper, the Times, which would ensure im
mediate world coverage.
I saw Captain Waugh only once again. It was in 1953, when Burns Oates gave a rather splendid lunch at the Ilyde Park llotel for 1t r. Knox, to mark the publication of his translation of the Bible. Waugh looked more military then, perhaps because he affected a neatly trimmed moustache. He was with friends. So was I and i knew he did not take kindly to impor tunate strangers. 1 learned at that
lunch of a mildly eccentric way he had of dealing with such people. After we had eaten he was leaning against a pillar across the room from where 1 sat with friends.
A man approached and asked me:
"Who is that person?" Ile pointed at Waugh.
"Evelyn Waugh." "Its not," says he. "Like him, isn't it?"
1 agreed. "it" was like Waugh because "it" was Waugh. But I
didn't press the point. "Dammit," said my interrogator, "i've been acquainted with Waugh for years and could have sworn that was Waugh. Most embarrassing. 1 went up to the man and greeted him. What do you think? He denounced my im pertinence. "He says that Evelyn Waugh is a writer of lewd hooks, and all over the place people are confusing them. lie's tired of it. lie says his name is Blennerhasset."
Burns Oates had printed their list of guests on°the menu. There was one Itlennerhasset present. He was Leo, London manager of the Irish Independent, an old friend of mine. Waugh must have taken a fancy to Leo's name and adopted it for some harmless fun,
His victim walked off shaking his head.
Remarkable resemblance."
Although 1 never saw Waugh again from time to time we corresponded and despite whal i now consider a rather churlish[ review I wrote of "Brideshead Revisited" he was kind
and considerate.