IT STARTED, nearly 50 years ago, with a leaky pipe.
Roy Romeril, the visiting plumber, and Rose, who had called him around to repair the fault, would soon be dating.
After a while, Rose, steeped in the Salvation Army since childhood, mentioned to her new boyfriend that the army was about to put on a musical, but Roy was unimpressed, telling her: ‘You’ll never get me joining the Salvation Army.’
Roy’s fondness for Rose changed his mind about the army, and he started attending evening meetings.
‘At first, just to be there, not really taking part,’ he says.
‘But then somebody asked for help in the Sunday school and it gradually took off from there.’
He volunteered to assist a youth club the army ran, initially only while waiting for his own son, Mark, who was at Scouts nearby, and ended up running the club, at a time when more than 100 youngsters attended, before moving on to lead the Sunday school and becoming more and more involved in the church.
The Salvation Army is a Protestant Christian church. Its theology derives from Methodism. Founded in East London in the 1860s, today it operates in more than 130 countries, and is best known for its extensive social services, such as feeding the hungry, sheltering the homeless and assisting victims and addicts. Its military structure was introduced in 1878 and has been retained as a tradition ever since.
Today, Roy is the corps Sergeant Major, an elder of the church, and he volunteers countless hours day in, day out, mostly behind the scenes.
‘It’s like any organisation, once you are part of it and willing to get involved, it takes over part of your life. I have a laugh every year in January and say I suppose I’ll get a pay rise of another nice round figure.’
Last week he added a new duty to an already lengthy list, as lead chef for the first time of the army’s Christmas Day lunch, serving roast turkey and all the trimmings, as well as starter and dessert, to several dozen guests. Which is why I am sat in the Romerils’ kitchen, interviewing Roy, late on Christmas Eve, once he is home from another few hours at The Fortress, the army’s base at Le Picquerel, working with others to get the meat cooked and other food prepared.
‘We have to limit it to 60 people because of the size of the kitchen. We invite anyone who wants to come to let us know, but we’ve had people just turn up on Christmas morning and you never turn anybody away.
‘Volunteers come by the bucketload and in the past Andrew [Diaper-Clausen, the corps leader] has found it better just to say yes because you never know why someone wants to come, and they might open up about their circumstances or why they want the company and you hear some quite sad stories.
‘It was about 25 years ago when we first volunteered at the lunch, hosting a table and fetching and carrying. We stopped doing it for a few years to have Christmas as a family, and we started again when Clifton and L’Islet amalgamated about 10 years ago, at first doing the washing up, and this year Andrew asked me to cook it. I think we’re all prepared, and I’ll be down there about 8am, maybe a bit earlier.’
Roy’s mum taught him to cook, when he was 12 or 13, out of necessity to support the family. She was busy most of the day running the family’s small guest house, as well as looking after six children, while dad worked long hours as a builder.
‘We had our list of jobs. My brother and I had to peel a pan full of potatoes every night. I had to light the fire to heat the water and clean out the lounge fire. We didn’t think anything of it. We were a team and we all had to help out.’
After leaving school, Roy became an apprentice plumber and eventually went self-employed.
He changed career in his mid-50s, becoming a lecturer in plumbing at the College of Further Education.
‘They said I should apply, but I thought “What do I know?” They said you’ve got a lifetime of experience in plumbing, and they offered me the job, alongside doing teacher qualifications, for which I had to go back to night school.’ At this time, Roy was lecturing apprentices full-time, studying at night school, and finding the time to remain active in the Salvation Army. After 17 years at the college, he retired three years ago. ‘I loved it at the college. I was ready for a new challenge, and I really enjoyed it. But I don’t miss it. I’ve been fortunate in that I can get to a point and think to myself that I’ve had enough and it’s time to move on and I don’t look back.’
The army has quickly filled any spare time. Certainly, Roy’s early start at The Fortress on Christmas Day was nothing unusual. He is there pretty much every day, keeping the garden tidy, topping up the fridge, maintaining the sound system, leading worship, running a monthly prayer breakfast.
‘It’s far from just me – there is a team of people doing it. I’m happy to do what I can, and so is Rose, and we support each other which is important.’
Even by Roy’s standards, December is a busy time. He took part in 17 army visits up to Christmas Eve, whether singing at late-night shopping in Town, putting on a service on the Methodist circuit or visiting care homes. He says he is quite looking forward to a quieter January.
When I next see Roy, having popped into The Fortress with our photographer, Sophie, at about 12.30pm on Christmas Day to cover the lunch for the paper, guests are between courses, and he and his kitchen are remarkably relaxed, outwardly defying the strain one might expect doing this for the first time.
‘It’s like the duck – keep calm on the surface and paddle like mad underneath,’ he says.
By 7am the following day, he was back in the kitchen, this time his own, preparing turkey, a beef joint and beef wellington for a family gathering, including with the couple’s daughter, Steph, son-in-law James and grandson Freddie, who are heavily involved in the army. Roy and Rose are also active grandparents.
Like her mum, Steph was enrolled – dedicated, as it is known – as a baby. She recently took on leadership of the Sunday school, after returning to the role of young people’s Sergeant Major. Freddie has been dedicated and, now that he is seven, he can start junior soldier classes.
‘What keeps me doing it? The same as all of us – faith, believing in God,’ says Roy.
‘There would be no point doing it otherwise.
‘And I think I have a responsibility to keep the corps active.’