1 December 2023
By Göran R Buckhorn
Thanks to Heidi Danilchick, granddaughter of Lucy Pocock Stillwell (sister of George and Dick Pocock), HTBS can offer the readers a small scoop – a letter written by George to Lucy during the 1936 Olympic Games in Berlin.
Today is the first day of December and rowers are looking forward to Christmas not only because of the jolly time with family and friends, but also, which HTBS has reported earlier, that George Clooney’s film based on James Daniel Brown’s bestseller The Boys in the Boat will be released in theatres in the USA on Christmas Day. In the UK, the film will come out in theatres on 12 January 2024.
Brown’s book and the work with the upcoming film don’t need any further presentation for HTBS’s loyal readers. And after Chris Dodd’s brilliant eight-part series on boatbuilder George Pocock in 2022 (find all the articles here), maybe George Pocock doesn’t need any introduction either.
This being said it could be worth noting a few more things about George.
Late in life, George wrote his memoirs. About George’s unpublished memoirs, which Chris had read for his series, Chris points out that
The memoir is the basis for much that has been written about George. Episodes range from growing up by the Thames at Windsor and Eton, dialogue with the top rowing coaches of America and journeys to Olympic regattas in Berlin, London, Helsinki and Melbourne. What makes them special, however, is that George was a reader and a deep thinker, and he was an excellent writer. Trawling his memoirs for gems is an enlightening pleasure.
In 1987, Gordon Newell published Ready All! – George Yeoman Pocock and Crew Racing. There has been a question if George Pocock’s middle name was Yeoman or Yeomans. In October, Thomas Wigley published an article on HTBS, which shows that George’s middle name was Yeomans, and Wigley included his birth certificate to prove it. However, Heidi Danilchick, George’s sister Lucy Pocock Stillwell’s granddaughter, wrote to HTBS saying that George himself made a mistake and left out the “s” in Yeomans when he applied for U.S. citizenship on 20 March 1918. Looking at the citizenship form, George had written that he was 25 years old and that he was born on 23 March 1892, instead on 23 March 1891.
However, George changed his birth date when he later filled in a Registration Card, though he was still “Yeoman”.
Newell’s book about George Pocock is based on George’s unpublished autobiography. Among many other things, Newell/Pocock wrote about Washington’s coach Alvin “Al” Ulbrickson’s total lack of showing emotions whether his crews were winning or losing. The sportswriters dubbed him “the Dour Dane” due to his father, August, had emigrated from Denmark. Not only did George build boats for the Husky crews, but he helped Ulbrickson with the coaching. Newell wrote, “For years, it was axiomatic among the Washington crews that when you saw George Pocock out in the launch with Al there’s probably going to be a change in the lineup.”
Only once did George see a trace of emotion coming from the coach, Newell wrote. After his Husky crew had defeated the Pennsylvania crew at the 1936 Olympic trials in Princeton, New Jersey, Pocock and Ulbrickson were walking back to the Princeton Inn. Suddenly Ulbrickson stopped, held out his hand and said: “Thanks, George, for your help.” “Coming from Al,” George wrote, that was the equivalent of fireworks and a brass band.”
However, in his book Six Minutes in Berlin (2016), Michael J. Socolow mentions a burst of emotions coming from Ulbrickson when his Husky crew won the eights at the 1936 Olympics. Socolow writes:
Al Ulbrickson watched the climax of the race perched atop a chair on the porch above the shell bay. When he first caught sight of his crew on the outside of the course, “he thought it was great, his crew coming down the course all by itself.” The hill had blocked his view, though, and “suddenly the Germans and the Italians popped out from the promontory.” He “was shocked” by the differential between the three leading crews. (Lee Miller, “The Husky Crew at the Berlin Olympics, 1936” 13.) He began jumping up and down on the chair, urging his boat forward, a cigarette tightly clenched between his teeth. He worked his jaws back and forth “as furiously as locomotive pistons” until he bit the cigarette in two. (Bill Henry, Washinton Crew Wins Olympic Crown, Los Angeles Times 15 August 1936, 9.) As the Husky Clipper entered the final stretch, beneath the massive floating grandstand, Ulbrickson yelled, “Now! Now! Now!” (Alvin Ulbrickson with Richard L. Neuberger, “Now! Now! Now!” Collier’s, 26 June 1937, 21) He pumped his fist and continued jumping with excitement as the shell passed his perch and across the finish line.
In an email, Heidi Danilchick wrote to me that George and his sister Lucy, who was four years older than George and a champion sculler herself, were very close. After Lucy had moved from England to Seattle in 1913, she and George lived nearby each other all their lives. George’s family, his wife Frances and their children Stan and Patty (or Pat), spent a lot of time with Lucy’s family, her husband Jim Stillwell and their daughters Betty and Grace (Heidi Danilchick’s mother). Grace was born in between Stan and Pat, so they played like siblings. “Our families celebrated the high holidays, birthdays, and picnics together,” Heidi wrote.
The other week, Heidi was going through her grandmother’s things and found a treasure, a letter to Lucy and Jim from George in Berlin written on 10 of August 1936, the day before the Olympic rowing began on the lake Langer See at Grünau. “I was so thrilled to find a letter from Berlin! It gave me chills to read his description of the militarization of the country. Rather prescient to comment that it seems like a country on the verge of war,” Heidi wrote to me. Heidi wrote humbly if this could be of interest? So far, she is the only living person to have read the letter and she wanted to share it with the HTBS readers! How could I say anything other than “yes”.
Here is George’s letter, written on the Köpenick Palace’s letterhead, to his sister, whom he sometimes called “Luce”, and her husband, Jim.
Here is a transcript of the letter…
Aug 10th 36
Dear Lucy & Jim: –
We are rapidly nearing the end of our stay in Berlin as the rowing starts tomorrow. While it has been a great experience and well worth the time, we will not be sorry to be moving again. The German people have tried to make our stay as pleasant as possible but the whole atmosphere is one of military and police. The army seems to have charge of everything, even to soldiers holding the sterns of the shells on starting. We are living in an army officer training barracks, transported in army buses and there is much clicking of heels and saluting. From very young childhood the German boy is taught drilling and soldiers work. It puts me in mind of a country on the brink of war. The whole German Army it seemed marched by at 2am and woke everyone up in our lodging and some of the boys threw water on them. It has to be I suppose, as Germany is surrounded by enemies. 65,000,000 people in a country not so big as Texas. One is surprised at the few autos. People take their relaxation simply, taking hikes, bike rides and rowing trips. How they go in for rowing. There are hundreds of miles of sheltered waterways in and around Berlin and there are 120 rowing clubs; men and women. There are two shell building establishments in Berlin each employing 30 or more men. There is more rowing done in Berlin than all of USA. There are 24 nations represented in rowing, and shells made in Germany, France, Sweden, England, and our eight in USA. They seem to think a lot of our boat and crew. The competition here is going to be hot, but I think we can do the trick. The Swiss and the Italians and British are pretty good. There are more crews here gathered in one place than I have ever seen before, and shells, shells, shells. Have seen several English coaches Sullivan, Cordery, Phelps & Arlett. We are looking forward to our visit to England. Frances and Mrs. U[lbrickson] are living with a German family and they are very hospitable, and Frances is having a good time and feeling well. The conversations are very amusing and much laughing and gesticulations goes on when trying to get a message across. The German living or food habits are very strange. They all go in for beer mainly we think because the water is so poor. We had a letter from Stan & Pat telling of your visit to Camp and we were so glad, as they look forward to your visits so much. Your letter Luce arrived today. Things are pretty high in price here and in many cases, more expensive than at home. One has to come abroad to appreciate the wonderful country we live in and the freedom which we enjoy. No German is allowed to leave the country and spend any money abroad. If he does leave he is only allowed to spend 10 marks a month by the government. Taxes are high and wages are low. A good carpenter gets 25 cents per hour, and he cannot live very highly on that. We sure will be glad to see you all again and to tell you of our experiences. It will be the middle of Sept before we get home as we plan to spend at least 2 weeks in England. With love to all
Bro Geo
George wrote the letter on 10 August when the Olympic Games almost had come to an end. The Olympic rowing was held between 11 and 14 August, and the games ended on 16 August. He paints a vivid picture of the stay in Germany together with Frances and Al Ulbrickson and his wife, Hazel (who is not mentioned by her first name in George’s letter nor in his memoirs). As the letter tells, Frances and Hazel didn’t stay with their husbands at Köpenick.
George seems surprised by the militarization of Germany, although he mentions that “Germany is surrounded by enemies”. Looking at a map, the countries bordering Germany at that time – Denmark, the Netherlands, Belgium, Luxembourg, France, Switzerland, Austria, Czechoslovakia and Poland – would hardly be any military threat to Germany at this time. Although, Germany might see France as a potential threat. The rivalry and hostility between Germany (and other old Germanic country constellations) and France had been ongoing for hundreds of years. Though when Germany attacked France in 1940, the French army was quickly defeated.
George writes “The whole German Army it seemed marched by at 2am and woke everyone up in our lodging and some of the boys threw water on them.” This episode is also brought up by James Daniel Brown in his The Boys in the Boat:
The boys from Washington were having a hard time sleeping. Almost every night there was some kind of disturbance in the cobblestoned street below their windows. One night it was brown-shirted storm troopers singing and parading past in hobnailed boots. Another it was military night maneuvers – roaring motorcycles with sidecars, trucks with glowing green night-lights in their cabs, caissons carrying field artillery – all rattling past under the streetlamps.
Other rowers also relayed that the Germans had used the same tactics. John Beresford, son of Jack Beresford, has mentioned that his father had told him that on the night before the final of the double sculls, in which Jack and Dick Southwood would race (and win), SS troops had marched and paraded outside their lodging.
George is impressed by the rowing activity in Germany and how many rowing clubs there are. Being the master boatbuilder, George takes the opportunity to examine the other nations’ boats, and he is pleased that oarsmen and coaches “seem to think a lot of our boat [the Husky Clipper] and crew”. He writes that the American eight’s main challengers, the Swiss, Italians and the British “are pretty good”, but as he writes, he thinks that “we can do the trick”. With the results in hand, the Huskies took the gold medal, Italy the silver, Germany the bronze, Britain placed fourth, Hungary fifth and Switzerland sixth.
From his old home country, George sees the English coaches “Sullivan, Cordery, Phelps & Arlett”. Tom Sullivan, Dan Cordery, Eric Phelps and Harry Arlett had problems finding coaching jobs in Britain. They travelled across the Atlantic and to the continent to find jobs, and found them in Germany.
Sullivan, who was actually a New Zealander, born in Auckland, was an amateur champion in New Zealand and Australia who later turned professional. In 1913, he coached Berliner Ruder-Klub crews, but was interned during the Great War. He organized the physical training for the Allied prisoners in the camp where he was held. After the war, the ‘Old Devil’, as he called himself, spent some time at De Amstel in the Netherlands before returning to the Berliner RK in 1925. He coached the German coxed four to an Olympic gold in Los Angeles in 1932, and he also trained the double scull with Herbert Buhtz and Gerhard Boetzelen to a silver medal. Buhtz also won the Diamonds at Henley Royal Regatta that year and in 1934.
For the Olympics, as the German Rowing Federation’s trainer, Dan Cordery was coaching the German double sculls with Willi Kaidel and Joachim Pirsch, and Gustav Schäfer, who had taken the gold medal at the 1934 European Championships in the single sculls. Schäfer had beaten Buhtz at an Olympic trial and was to represent Germany in the single sculls in Berlin. At the games, Schäfer won the gold medal. After the games, he quit rowing. Later Schäfer and his friend Georg von Opel founded the German Olympic Society. Cordery tried to interest Schäfer to come back to sculling for the upcoming Olympic Games in 1940, but the Olympic champ was not interested. After the political climate grew worse in Nazi-Germany, Cordery left the country in 1938. In a 1989 interview by Gisa Jacobus in Rudersport, the 80-year-old Schäfer, who by then was confined to a wheelchair remembered Cordery, “Mein lieber, englischer Trainer”.
Eric Phelps was a personal coach, chauffeur and handyman to Georg von Opel (of the Opel cars), who had competed in the Diamond Challenge Sculls at Henley in 1932 and 1933. Coaching von Opel, Phelps had seen Willi Kaidel and Joachim Pirsch training in the double sculls. He was surprised to find that the duo didn’t last the full 2,000-meter distance. When he went to Henley Royal – the boat class double sculls wasn’t offered at Henley at this time – Phelps saw Beresford and Southwood and realized that they needed help to reach the medal podium in Berlin. He told them that they were wasting their time and that they were no good. To prove his point, Phelps challenged them, he in a borrowed single sculls and they in their double. Chris Dodd takes up the story in his The Story of World Rowing (1992). Phelps easily beat them; he was three lengths ahead after a minute. “No sculler beats a double scull, and I’m in a strange boat,” Phelps told them, according to Chris.
Beresford/Southwood had trained themselves for months. Beresford asked Phelps what they should do. Phelps told him that they needed a lighter boat to start with, and stop with their long-distance running, and do shorter pieces (what we today would call interval training). According to Chris, who got the information from Southwood, Roly Sims of Putney built a new double for them in two and a half days for £50. When the new double was shipped to Germany, it got “lost” on its way to Berlin – this happened to other foreign crews as well. After a couple of days, a British official found the car with the Sim’s double on railway tracks on a side-line between Hamburg and Berlin. In the meantime, Cordery had let Beresford and Southwood borrow an old double, which suddenly also disappeared as the German team needed the boat, the British were told.
At the start in the final, both the German and the British double sculls pulled away before “… Partez”. The start umpire de Bisscop had a “megaphone [that] was so large that he could not see round it, “Chris writes. Beresford/Southwood took an early lead the first 500 meters, but then Kaidel/Pirsch caught up, passed them and had almost a length, at 1,800, the crews were level. This is how Hylton Cleaver describes the last 200 meters of the race in A History of Rowing (1957):
From 1,000 metres it took them 800 more before, by their utmost efforts, they got level at last, and at this point Tom Sullivan, with his field glasses clapped to his eyes, snatched off the cap of the Berliner Ruder-klub, which he wore, to flourish it high in the air and to bellow above the roars of the crowd, as if his heart were bursting: “They Englishmen have got them! The Englishmen to win, for 1,000 marks!!”
100 metres from the finish both crews were dead level, sculling stroke for stroke; so close were they now that there was nearly a collision. Then, slap in front of Hitler’s box, British endurance had its fantastic way. The Germans blew up, while the Englishmen, wound up their peak, went on working the rate up higher and higher because, as they told me afterwards, if they had one let up, they would have stopped themselves!
Tom Sullivan and I threw our arms around each other, for we had thought the playing of the German national anthem (and they played two tunes each time) would never end. This was their first defeat at the regatta, though later the Americans won the eights.
“Arlett”, who George mentions in the group of English coaches, was Harry Arlett, who came from a family of professional oarsmen from Henley-on-Thames. Harry’s father, Jack, rowed against the famous professionals of the 1910s, and Harry’s little brother, Ernest, would become a well-known coach in the USA at some colleges, among them the Northeastern University in Boston. Harry Arlett coached the Canadian sculler Jack Guest, who won the Diamond Challenge Sculls in 1930, and for the 1936 Olympic regatta, Arlett had coached a Czech crew.
After having attended some of the closing events at the stadium in Berlin, George, Frances and the Ulbricksons left Germany for England. At Paddington Station, George’s father Aaron met them. George wrote about his father: “He was now seventy-eight years old, and looked very tired.” Aaron had had a hard life. He worked at the Eton College boathouse, but he got fired because he was too “easy” on the men who worked for him. George writes: “Then he was employed by the London Country Recreation Council, also building boats. In twenty years he would have earned a lifetime pension. He was fired after nineteen years and six months!”
The two couples stayed at a hotel in London, but George wanted to show them Windsor Castle and Eton College and the boathouse and the area where he grew up. They toured the grounds of the castle and at the boathouse they saw “the 650 boats all racked up in orderly fashion”. After seeing the Ulbricksons off, George and Frances returned to Eton for a week so George could meet some of his old friends. He also took out a single to row on the waters of Eton. They rounded up their visit by taking a bus tour to Scotland. And then it was time for the Pococks to return to the US.
“A taxi picked us up at dad’s place, and the last we ever saw of that noble and courageous man was him running along the sidewalk, pantomiming that he was going to keep up with us,” George wrote. Aaron Pocock died in 1939.
To end this article about George Pocock in 1936 Berlin, with its militarization and heel clicking, George probably wrote it best in his letter to Lucy:
“One has to come abroad to appreciate the wonderful country we live in and the freedom which we enjoy.”
A special thank you to Heidi Danilchick for sending HTBS Georg Pocock’s letter from Berlin to share with our readers.
HTBS would like to remind you that in January this year, Julian Eyres published a two-part article about the Germany eight from the Berlin rowing club, Wiking, who thwarted the Nazi selection system to represent their country in the eights at the 1936 Olympic Games. Read the article here.