Chapter Fourteen– EDINBURGH
(1977-78)
Defence Studies. In the fall of 1977, I
found myself knocking on the door of the Defence Studies office suite at the University
of Edinburgh in Scotland. The Air Force had sent me to learn at the elbow of
Professor John Erickson – a world-renowned scholar on the Soviet Armed
Forces. Somehow, word had never gotten to Erickson that I was coming and the whole office suite
was still locked up for the summer holidays. I was fit to be tied. Why did I
leave my family to come here? I asked myself over and over. My morale was about
as low as it could get. I left my family for this? The previous evening I had
stood in the train as we approached Edinburgh and saw the yellowy glow of the
city’s lights through eyes filled with tears.
Summer in
Scotland is not exactly like summer in Ohio, and I found myself without a coat
– in Scotland it is always a good idea to have a coat. So I hopped a train and
went up north to a U.S. Navy base at a place called Edzel, where I bought a
black raincoat at the Base Exchange.
When I finally
hooked up with Erickson, I was provided an office and
then basically ignored. I wasn't sure what this meant. But I knew I was going
to be there for almost a year and I had better make the most of it. So I busied
myself by completing the Air War College correspondence course. Then I wrote a
long paper that I sent back to Washington. The general in charge of the program
liked it very much. But when I sent it to Air University, they bled red ink all
over it. They insisted I write what they wanted in the style and format they
decreed. So I did as they asked, wrote a mediocre paper on strategy, and
finished the course.
Conference on Soviet Military Manpower.
I then organized a conference on Soviet manpower to be hosted by Defence
Studies. The name Erickson, in connection with the Soviet
Armed Forces, drew some pretty heavy hitters. Admiral of the Fleet Sir Peter
Hill-Norton chaired the conference. He had previously
served as Chairman of the NATO Military Committee. He went on to become Lord
Peter Hill-Norton, and a member of the English House of Lords, thereby
achieving the highest recognition one can receive for service to the British
Empire. John and I once had lunch at his house and admired one of the old rum
kegs he had removed from ships of the Royal Navy, thereby eliminating a
tradition that had lasted for over a hundred years. Others in attendance
included the Commander of the NATO Defense College in Rome, and the Commander
of the Belgian 16th corps. We were to publish the results of the conference.
As I pondered
over the stuff I had been given to publish, it suddenly became clear to me that
I knew as much as these big guys and I could write as well as they could. So
after finishing the work on the Soviet military manpower document, I started
researching everything I could find and finally chose to write an article on
Soviet helicopters. By now, Professor Erickson and I were nearly inseparable. He was afraid
the Air Force would send him someone who knew nothing about academic research; I
had passed the test. When he read my paper, he suggested I publish it in the
International Defense Review, produced in Switzerland. I sent them the
paper and they published it. I was startled how easy this was.
I then wrote an
article about Soviet Frontal Aviation for Strategic Review, a journal
put out by American conservatives that focused on security issues. This was
followed by a series of published articles written in subsequent months.
My Mentor. Professor John Erickson was a unique individual. I know little about
Intelligence Quotients, but I am sure he ranked near the top. He was simply
brilliant, but eccentric. He harbored a dislike for the English upper crust
that reflected his own upbringing in the northern English town of Newcastle
where he was the son of a lower class laborer. At the NATO Defense College in
Rome, he would scarcely allow his own countrymen to say a word if he detected
that upper class accent common to many who have attended the best schools. Yet
he had a soft heart for the military that shone through at unusual times. I
accompanied him once to a dining-in of the Belgian 16th Division
somewhere in Germany. A very strange German liaison officer, who had memorized
Russian phrases from a phrase book, was attached to us. He and Erickson got along famously.
Erickson never accepted an invitation without insisting
I go along. Thus I met a great number of exceptional people. He would not even
go to lunch at the University Staff Club without dragging me along. I had to
ignore the fact that he drank and smoked too much and ate too little. I allow
myself these small criticisms because I genuinely loved the man with the
respect and devotion that is possible between student and teacher, even though
he was not my teacher in the formal sense. Kathy Brown was more than his secretary. She was a lady in
the final years of her professional life who also loved John in her own way and
acted as his Chief of Staff. Between the two of us, we conspired to influence
John for the better in ways we felt he was deficient. It was a labor of love
which really did not bear significant results, but which was the natural and
unavoidable outgrowth of our affection for a brilliant man.
In a personal
sense, there were probably two major lessons that were part of the Edinburgh
experience. The first was that I hated being away from my family. In that
connection, I had not appreciated Faith nearly as much as I should have. Edinburgh
helped correct that deficiency as I realized I did not want to be anywhere
without her. The second lesson was an understanding of my own abilities in
academic investigation and the writing of articles based upon my own research.
This was also a time when I was able to research and come to grips with my
Scottish heritage that was so important to my mother and which permeated her
character.
The
Scots. The history of
Scotland is the story of its families, each clad in special tartans, woven of wool from the Highland
sheep. Totally different than the English in their origins, the Scots descended
from ancient Celtic tribes who had found their way from the European continent
to the northern British Isles. Not everyone understands that in some parts of
Scotland the Scots actually have preserved their own Celtic language, even
though it is spoken by very few.
Historically the
Scots descended from a mixture of the Celtic
Picts and Gaels, incorporating
neighboring Britons to the south as well as invading Germanic
peoples, such as the Anglo-Saxons and the Scandinavians.
Differing substantially from the English, Germans, French, Scandinavians, or
for that matter, anyone else in Europe, the Scots are a distinct people,
fiercely independent, and persevering. I would assert that my mother, Amy
Buttars, embodied those traits. I
never truly understood her until I spent almost a year in Scotland.
A careful look into Scottish history
will reveal a small clan carrying the name of Buttars. They are first encountered in
connection with a century old war between the Argyll and the families who
settled in what is today the southern Highlands and Perthshire. Yet for some
unknown reason, it is impossible today for the casual tourist to identify a
specific tartan worn by that clan. Nonetheless, I have discovered such a tartan
and have inserted in into the history of my mother that I put together. The
Buttars clan played a significant role in the events
that shaped the history of Scotland. The early Butters (for so most histories
record the spelling) found their residence in the area around the old village
of Gormack near Rattray not far from the town of Pitlochry.
My Scottish Ancestors. Having made
several pilgrimages to Kirkmichael, from whence my ancestors left for America,
I can assert that the Buttars were a well-respected and prosperous family.
My genealogy on the Buttars side traces back to my fourth great-grandfather,
Donald Buttar, who was born in 1693 near the town of
Blairgowrie in Perthshire. He is followed by his son and a grandson, both named
Donald. The grandson, my great-great grandfather,
Donald Buttar, was born in a place called Stronamuck in the parish of
Kirkmichael on February 9, 1758. We know this Donald Buttar was the son of
another Donald Buttar about whom we, at this stage, know nothing other than his
name.
Stronamuck (a word which has several
spellings) is an old Gaelic or Celtic name which allegedly means "lair of
the wild boar." In its heyday, the place consisted of approximately eleven
buildings and was the center for the Buttars family's agricultural activities.
Not large enough to have its own church, its inhabitants belonged to the
Kirkmichael Parish, about a mile and a half away. Stronamuck no longer exists,
having gone to ruins when the Buttars left. At present, a few old ruins remain
in the middle of someone else's private property. Kirkmichael lies
approximately ten miles east of Pitlochry as the crow flies. Peppered along the
road are names found in the Buttars genealogy: Ennochdhu (allegedly meaning
"Black Meadow" in Gaelic) lies to south along the road to Blairgowrie,
Rattray lie Ballinluig, and Ballintuim.
Donald was
married to Beathea Rattray, and they are the parents of my great-grandfather,
David Buttars, who was born on December 2,
1822 in Rattray, Scotland. At the age of 29, David joined the Church of Jesus
Christ of Latter-day Saints on January 19, 1851. What courage it must have
taken to join an American-born church founded only 21 years prior.
I do not know
with precision when he and his wife, Margaret Spaulding, immigrated to the United
States to join with other members of the Church in Utah. However, it was some
time before their ninth child, whom they named Margaret, was born in Lehi, Utah
on August 5, 1863. Tragically, both mother Margaret and daughter Margaret died
within a week of the birth on 10th and 12th of August,
respectively.
At age 44,
Great-grandfather Buttars married my great-grandmother, Sarah Keep, who
was 18 years his junior. She bore him eight children plus they had an adopted
daughter. Among them, was my grandfather, Charles Buttars, my mother’s father.
Publishing. After my stint in
Edinburgh, I began to write articles for publication. At first they were about
the Soviet armed forces, later they dealt in one way or another with disarmament.
And finally, I wrote about the future of Europe. Altogether about 30 of these
articles were published. I might also mention that I was a co-author of a book
entitled, The Soviet Armed Forces.
Later, Ambassador Oleg Grinevsky and I wrote Making
Peace, an insider’s account of the Stockholm Conference.
Without a doubt, my experience with
Professor Erickson at the University of Edinburgh was a great, even defining,
period in my professional development.