“Any time that you ask, gorgeous. I’d love to take you up there. You know how often we do regular air-tests and practice interceptions, we could sneak you aboard. Show you the office.”
“That would be so wonderful, my darling. I can’t wait to take you up on the offer. I’ve always heard about your flying, I’d love to be flown around by you.” She squeezed his fingers. “I’m always driving you around, be nice for you to return the favour and fly me about a bit.”
Driving me around? At those insane speeds? Driving me around the fucking twist more like!
“Yes, my dearest.” He replied meekly.
“I like Chalky, he seems a sweet boy.” Rose introduced his new operator to Molly on the first day, when he took White to the HQ building for the formalities.
Mandy had been only too eager to sew on White’s new stripes. Rose could not miss the shy way in which they looked at each other, and he was pleased for White.
“Yes, he’s a nice lad, I like him too.”
He picked a few of the brightly-coloured ‘vitamin’ tablets from the heaped bowl on the table and threw them to the back of his throat, before gulping down a mouthful of hot tea (ouch!) to chase them down.
“You’re a sweetie, Harry, you like everybody. That’s one of the reasons that I love you.”
She leaned closer to him, “And the fact that you’re thoughtful is another of the reasons. You do care about others. I heard about what you did from the Wing Commander. It was good of you to give Chalky a chance.” She hesitated, trying not to let him see the doubt in her eyes. To say the words. “Jinx or no jinx.”
He swallowed another handful with a grimace, but it felt as if one had lodged in his throat and he took another hasty mouthful of tea. Rose flinched as it burnt his throat.
“Oh Molly! He’s not jinxed!” he croaked, “He’s just been unlucky.” I hope I’m right, and what else could I do? Poor little sod. I couldn’t just leave him in that agony…
“Well, I’m not the only one who thinks he’s sweet. I’ve spoken to Mandy, provided her with some helpful womanly advice, as you do, and apparently they’re going to the pictures together at the next opportunity when they’re both off duty.”
She smirked at him, “that charming young man is a far faster worker than a certain timid young pilot officer I could mention.”
“I was just a bit shy, that’s all,” Rose muttered grumpily, staring fixedly at the crumbs on the plate before him.
“Well, all I can say is that I’m actually rather pleased that you’re not quite as shy as you used to be!”
Rose looked around anxiously to make sure no-one in the Officer’s Mess could hear, but they were comfortably ensconced in a corner on their own, and no one was sitting nearby, and she laughed softly despite her inner unease at his return to combat.
“My darling man, do you remember the first time we met?”
He sighed with pleasure and nodded, “How could I forget? That was one of the greatest nights of my life.”
Molly smiled fondly at the memory, and laughed softly, “That earnest look on your face, and the drivel you spouted! But even then, I knew there was something special about you.”
“I knew you were special the instant I saw you, my love. I know I’ve said it before, but it’s true. Who’d have thought then that I’d become a night flyer? I was prattling like a madman about clouds across the moon, now I’ll be up there with the moon.”
“I wish I could come up there with you, Harry.”
“I know, my sweet and delicious flower, and I’d love to take you up there with me, take you to the moon and the stars and beyond if I could, but Chalky’s champing at the bit, and he’ll not give up his seat without a fight.” He shrugged apologetically.
“Well, bully for him! If he wants a fight he might get one!” Molly’s eyes widened glaringly and she bared her teeth, taking a mock-swipe at him with one clawed hand. She smiled, but showing rather more tooth than he was normally accustomed to.
Disconcerted, Rose leaned backwards slightly; just in case those fingernails came a little too close.
“Er, I don’t think he’s got much chance against you, my sweet little trinket. But he is a very highly trained operator, and, more importantly he’s my very highly trained operator, and I’d much rather you didn’t injure him too much, we’ve all got a war to fight, after all, and I’d like it very much if you were both in it on my side.”
She flounced her hair and looked at him sideways, “Alright, naughty boy, I won’t hurt him, but just you remember that when you’re up there in the moonlight, all alone with that boy, I’m the one you love.”
He grinned. “If it weren’t against some darned regulation or other, I’d pull you across the table right this instant and plant a big slobbery kiss on your ridiculously beautiful mouth, you dazzling creature. Instead, it just so happens that I have something for you…”
Rose fumbled in his pocket and passed her a folded sheet of paper.
She took it quizzically with raised eyebrows. “For me? What’s this?”
“I wrote this yesterday, after we’d shared breakfast. Go on. Open it.”
She took it from him. “Oh Harry, I’ve nothing for you!”
“I have your love, Molly, what else could I possibly want or need in the world?”
Carefully Molly unfolded the piece of paper. On it, Rose had written:
Between jug and cup, the bead of milk hangs suspended in that fleeting moment of time, expanded by recollections of you, a shining and perfect orb of white, shining brightly as if from within.
My cup of tea forgotten, in that instant I see only you, for reminiscent of that shimmering, faultless pearly droplet, you are perfection made real, excellence true, purity personified.
The shining whiteness reflects your inner purity, your luminous and virtuous heart, but in it I also see your outer exquisiteness, the perfect lines and curvature of your body’s alabaster architecture.
My heart’s princess, you are immaculate and praiseworthy, my only desire.
I allow myself stolen glimpses at your glory, as if caught from beyond the obverse of the mirror, within arm’s reach, but impossibly distant, you are eternally desirable, o loveliest of creatures.
Your grace caresses my eager eyes, quenching my thirst, soothing my feverish heart, but leaving me ever incomplete, wanting, unfulfilled and yearning, until you are once again before me.
Je t’aime, my Molly, Je t’adore.
“Oh Harry, it’s charming!”
Phew. Not the best, but enough to please his love.
“You inspired me when you accidentally upset that jug milk. You looked scrumptious with that shocked look on your face, and the droplet of milk hanging from the tip of your nose! I wanted to laugh so badly! But then, you always look incredible.”
Molly folded the paper up again and held it to her smiling lips. “And where might flattery get you, you cheeky devil?”
“Yes, I know, I know. It’ll get me nowhere. But I do wish I could kiss you. I love you so much.”
“And I you, my darling. I’ll wave you off back to war with all my love and wishes. Keep Genevieve close to you. She took care of you before, and I pray that she continues to do so forever.”
“I have her with me, and,” he reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a rather worn and dog-eared photograph, “And I have my other good-luck charm, too!”
He held up the crumpled smoke-stained photograph, glancing quickly at her picture.
Molly took the photograph from him, looked at it for a long moment, a slight smile on her lips.
“Harry! You are such a silly sausage.” She handed it back to him and he carefully placed it back into his pocket.
“When I came to, floating down beneath my parachute, I was holding your picture. I must have snatched it up from the control console before my dear old Hurri blew. I don’t know how I knew, and I couldn’t see it, but I did.”
Her voice was soft, “I know, my dearest, de
arest love.”
“You saved my life, Molly. I’m only here because of you. Else I’d be dead.” He said simply. “You are the true source of good luck in my life.”
She flushed self-consciously, but he could see she was pleased. “I didn’t save you, my darling, The Almighty did, and for that I’m truly grateful. He saved you for me.”
“Hullo, Hullo! Oh dear! Why the long faces? I’d have thought being married to the delectable Flight Officer here would leave a smile permanently etched onto your face, Flying Officer.”
Being so immersed in their conversation, they had not noticed Rose’s new flight commander, Squadron Leader Billy Barr DFC, walk up to them.
Rose stood and smiled, “Morning, my glorious leader. Didn’t see you creep up.”
Barr nodded amicably at them both. “Morning, chum. I’m on tonight with you, thought we’d head down to the dispersals together. I knew you’d be here canoodling with your missus. Sorry, Flight Officer, but I’m going have to abscond with your chap.”
Molly smiled slightly at Barr, “Look after him for me, please, sir. Don’t bend him; I quite like him the way he is, warts and all.”
“I’ll do my best, Molly.” Barr grinned cheerfully, “’though I suspect that’s easier said than done.”
Rose scowled playfully, before darting forward and raising her hand to plant a hurried kiss on her fingertips.
“I’ll see you soon, my beloved,” he whispered. He was excited to be on his way, but did not want her to see that eagerness, did not want to add to her pain in this new phase of their life. Her lips moved to hide the stricken expression, not quite succeeding.
It was all there in her eyes, “Not soon enough for me, my beloved.”
He could taste the oil from the fried bread on her fingers, and, oh, dear God! Was that marmalade? Yuck!
Rose groped in his pocket for his handkerchief to wipe his lips, but then stopped in mid-action.
What will Molly think? Her fingers weren’t dirty. Don’t wipe your mouth yet, old chap, wait until you get outside and she can’t see you. Not very gallant wiping one’s lips immediately after kissing a girl’s hand.
Especially when the girl is one’s missus.
He pushed the hanky back down into his pocket, and forced his oily, sticky lips into a smile.
Urgh, that marmalade was bitter. How could anyone eat such awful stuff?
“All my best wishes and love go with you, my heart, ma bien-aimée.” Despite the brightness of her smile, Molly’s eyes glistened lustrously. “Je ressens un amour fou pour toi. J'appartiens à vous.”
“Et je suis à vous, très chers.”
She watched him walk away, a young man so different from the one she’d first met and fallen in love with, yet somehow still unchanged and special, her heart sinking nauseatingly, but filled to brimming with pride and love and pain.
He was her man, the special man, her shining knight in armour, courageous and true and unyielding on himself, yet with the gentlest, kindest of hearts.
My beloved, my smiling and honourable hero. Oh, how I love you!
He felt her eyes on him. Harry Rose, trepidation and excitement warring in his heart, the taste of their parting and the breakfast marmalade horrid on his lips, but ashamed and humbled by the fear for him in her eyes.
At the door, he turned, and their eyes met for a moment, his stiff lips twisting into a smile that looked more like a grimace, and then he was gone, the door closing slowly into the empty space.
Molly picked up his still warm cup and held it between her hands, as if to keep him with her that little bit longer, placing her mouth gently against the rim, licking the smooth porcelain as if to catch the memory of his lips on it.
Her eyes unwillingly stole back to the closed door.
“I love you, wonderful man. May God bless you and keep you safe,” she whispered.
Chapter 8
The B-Flight commander was a very tall, well-built man. A semi-professional footballer before the war, Barr had joined the RAFVR in 1936, learning to fly and the basics of night fighting the hard way, and a small scar on his cheek was the legacy of a dicey crash landing at night in a Boulton-Paul Defiant the previous year, rather than to any exploit on the field during his footballing past.
Like Rose, he too wore the ribbon of the DFC, a testament to having already successfully destroyed four German bombers at night. He was no virgin to combat, already a veteran.
“So, Flash, my old son, we’ve a full schedule of things to do before operations tonight, feeling keen?”
“I think we’re about as ready as we can possibly get, and Chalky and I really would rather like to help add to the squadron’s score.” Rose told him dutifully.
Barr lit a cigarette. “Good man, the lads have told me that you two never stopped asking questions over the last couple of days. Apparently, the only way to get away from you was to hide in the ladies’ loo.” He blew a stream of eye-watering smoke at Rose.
Trying not to cough, Rose looked away. “Sorry, sir, we didn’t mean to be a nuisance.”
Barr chuckled, “Good heavens, I’m not complaining, old man. I’m pleased you made the effort to glean as much info and tips as you could. I think you two are as ready as you’ll ever be, too. As you know, we’ll all meet at dispersals first. It’s a bit like school registration first thing in the morning.”
“Right. Is it a discussion or a lecture this morning?”
“A general discussion about the events of our last two-day duty. As you might have heard, we got a couple of probables, but there were actually quite a few contacts, but they didn’t turn into actual combats. We need to find out why we didn’t do better. After that a chat on anything the crews want to talk about, then we’ll check our kites after lunch. Preferably a spot of practice interceptions, and definitely an air test. Make sure your kite’s tip top before you go up against Goering’s boys. After you, Flash, old chap. Age before beauty and all that tosh.”
With a last long pull on his cigarette, Barr stubbed it out against the side of their dispersals hut and flicked the stub expertly over his shoulder, turned, and pushed open the door for Rose, who murmured his thanks and entered.
Chalky was sitting shyly in a corner on a threadbare easy chair, next to Barr’s operator, a Pilot Officer by the name of Trevor Dear, and he smiled in relief when he saw his pilot.
In addition to Rose and White, there were five other crews in B-Flight, Sergeants Williams and Heather in A-Able, Pilot Officer Herbert and Sergeant Trent in B-Baker, Flying Officers Barlow and Cole in C-Cindy, with Flight Lieutenants Clark and Jones in E-Emma.
Barr and Dear made up the sixth crew, in F-Flora.
Williams and Heather, the only NCO crew on the flight, had taken White under their wing and had ensured his acceptance in the Sergeant’s Mess.
Williams rarely spoke, whilst conversely, Heather never seemed to stop, which was just as well, as he was the crew AI operator and needed to keep up a constant patter of directions during an intercept. It seemed to work, as they had already achieved four confirmed kills, with each of them also recently receiving DFMs.
Herbert had been an English teacher in Croydon before the war, whilst Trent worked as a trolley-bus conductor, the pair arriving at Dimple Heath a month earlier. They had been quite busy so far, having managed to score a confirmed kill, one probable, and four damaged. Herbert was always writing, making notes endlessly at dispersals, his intentions to write a book of his wartime air force experiences.
Barlow and Cole were an inseparable double act. They spent all their time together, on and off duty, and were quite well known throughout the airfield for the part they played in entertainment shows whenever ENSA (the Entertainments National Service Association, or more popularly known as ‘Every Night Something Awful’) visited Dimple Heath.
It was generally agreed (at least by Barlow and Cole) that the best part of any show was invariably one of their numbers. In addition to their vocal accomplishments, the pair had
accounted for a pair of Dorniers and one Heinkel.
Clark and Jones were real night war veterans, having already completed almost ten months of night fighting, beginning in Blenheim fighters together, dabbling with Boulton-Paul Defiants, and then converting onto the first of the newly-introduced Beaufighters.
The pair had an enviable record of nine confirmed, three probables, and five damaged, and each of them had already earned a DFC, a DFM, and a MiD.
Both welcomed Rose genially, and recognised him as a fellow veteran of air combat, seeing mirrored in his eyes and face the same lines and grim resolve that existed on theirs.
To Rose, their faces bore the utter fatigue and grim determination worn by his friends during the height of The Battle.
Squadron Leader Barr and Trevor Dear were the senior crew in B-Flight. Like Barr, Dear was a regular, beginning the war as a corporal gunner, serving in both Blenheims and Defiants, flying both by day and by night, claimed a Heinkel bomber in daylight, and then shared in the destruction of four more bombers whilst flying with Barr. Along the way, he had been commissioned and earned himself a very well deserved DFM.
Rose sauntered to the tea urn, and turned enquiringly to White. “Fancy a cuppa, Chalky?”
“Yes please, sir.” White stood, but Rose waved him back down.
“I’ll bring it over, milk, no sugar?”
“Lovely. I’m sweet enough already, sir,” the automatic response, pale face showing his anxiety despite his best attempts to conceal it.
“Yes, well, I’ll need to ask Mandy about that, shan’t I?”
White blushed deeply. He was understandably a little overwhelmed by the members of B-Flight, but was proud to be flying with Rose.
On their first day together, the youngster stared with unconcealed awe at Rose’s impressive row of medal ribbons, and had then secretly made a promise to himself that before long, he would do everything he could to ensure that Rose’s DFC ribbon was adorned with the gilt rosette of a second award.
He would ensure in his mantle of restored honour that he did everything within his power to see that Rose’s position and honour was enhanced further.
Beaufighter Blitz Page 9