‘I’m not moving out, unless you want me to, Roy.’
‘I’d rather have you than some bugger I don’t know.’
‘Good, because I’ve informed the adjutant I’m staying put.’ They were in the mess and he had a file of papers in front of him.
‘Have you learned anything about the new bods?’
‘A bit of a mixed bunch – see for yourself.’ He pushed the information across the table and waited to see his friend’s reaction.
‘Jesus Christ… Sorry. Slipped out and I know you don’t like me to blaspheme. But, bloody hell, Oscar, one of these blokes is five years older than us – seems a bit ancient to have just decided he wants a career in the RAF.’
‘I’m not too worried about him. If you look you can see he’s been a flyer for the past ten years – an instructor no less. Keep looking.’
Apart from this previous flying instructor, the other three had only a few months’ training and scarcely any time in their logbooks as solo flyers. What were the RAF thinking? Things must be desperate indeed if such inexperienced pilots were considered ready for battle.
Roy completed his perusal and shook his head. ‘They’re all regulars and had signed on before war was declared in September. That must be what has persuaded the bigwigs they have enough flying time to be safe.’
‘It’s not helpful that we don’t have sufficient kites. We’ve only one spare functioning Hurricane between six of us. I need to see just how good they are at acrobatics. As far as I can see they only had a couple of hours of the essential training needed for flying in a sortie.’
‘Then why don’t we show them ourselves? Take them up one at a time and demonstrate. Then let them have a go. Have we any idea when the rest of the Hurries are arriving?’ Roy pushed the file back to him.
‘Haven’t the foggiest. I expect they’ll have to go and fetch them themselves when they’re released from the factory.’ He thought for a few moments. ‘We’ll start with manoeuvres in daylight and then progress to flying in the dark. They’ll have had to pass a night flying test, but it will only have been circuits and bumps. I need to see them do more than that to know they’re safe.’
‘You’re right; better to get experience without having a dozen bloody Messerschmitt on your tail.’
*
After a gruelling day involved in mock dogfights with Roy and then watching the new bods have a go, Oscar was confident his flight wasn’t as green as he’d feared. He arranged for them to meet the following morning at first light to continue the training.
Johnny Wright, the older, more experienced pilot, had proved to be the least confident. He took him to one side after the others had gone off to get something to eat.
‘Johnny, what’s the problem?’
‘I don’t know. I just can’t seem to get the hang of it. Maybe I’d be better as an instructor. After all, it’s what I’ve been doing for the past few years. Would you recommend me for transfer?’
‘Don’t decide today. We’re desperately short of experienced flyers – I don’t think the CO will part with you so easily. Give it another couple of days. It might fall into place tomorrow.’
‘Okay, but I doubt it. It was too bloody real up there. The thought of shooting to kill fills me with horror. I know Hitler has to be stopped but I don’t think I’m going to be much use as a fighter pilot. I know I’ll hesitate to pull the trigger and by then it’ll be too late.’
‘Why the hell did you sign up? You must have known you felt like this? We will have to kill people – that’s what happens in a war.’
Johnny nodded and patted his shoulder. ‘I didn’t think it through. I want to do my bit and because I’m an expert pilot it seemed obvious that I should join the RAF. I’m not a pacifist or conscientious objector; I suppose you could say that I’m a coward.’
‘No, I certainly couldn’t. I would have the same difficulty with being a bomber pilot. Somehow it seems fairer to be shooting down German bombers and fighter planes than dropping bombs and probably killing innocent civilians. If you’re certain, then there’s no need to continue with the training.’
‘I want to do it – if I’m going to instruct then I have to be clear in my own head what the lads need to know. Let’s get a beer. Everything makes more sense after a jar or two.’
10
Jane said no farewells, just grabbed her kit and heaved it into the lorry alongside the belongings of the other twenty or so girls. Having travelled on the slippery benches before, she fully expected to be tipped on top of the bags more than once during the journey.
She recognised quite a few of the girls, but none had been in her dormitory. It was no good – she would have to ask if they all had surnames that fell in the first half of the alphabet.
The lorry trundled along and as her ears adjusted to the racket it was possible to hear oneself speak. ‘Excuse me,’ she said to the two girls closest to her. ‘Do you mind terribly telling me your surnames?’
‘Thomas – Ivy Thomas. Why do you ask?’ The fair girl sitting on her left looked puzzled by the question.
The one on her right also answered. ‘Valerie Welham. Go on, what’s yours?’
‘Jane Hadley. It’s just that the interviews were alphabetical so I don’t understand how either of you can be in here when your interviews wouldn’t be happening until later this afternoon.’
‘Oh, that’s easily explained. We were told yesterday that we were going to be allocated to special duties. I think they’d already decided so the interviews weren’t really necessary.’
‘I just marched in and was told I was special duties and then marched out. They didn’t ask me anything. I hate a mystery and like to have everything clear.’
‘Not sure you’re in the right place, Jane. Everything’s a mystery in the WAAF. Ours not to reason why and all that,’ Ivy said as she tumbled from the bench with a despairing cry as the lorry took a sharp left-hand turn.
All those sitting on the bench on that side of the lorry ended up on the floor. Once they were back in place, roughly where they’d been sitting before, it was as if they were old friends and not recent acquaintances.
‘Does anyone know where we’re going?’ someone on the other side of the lorry called out.
‘Would be grand if we were going to London. Absolutely no nightlife available anywhere else,’ Valerie said with a sigh.
The very last place Jane wanted to be was London. She’d seen quite enough of that city in the few weeks she’d spent there with Charlotte. In fact, the further away it was from anywhere she might be forced to socialise the happier she’d be.
They stopped briefly for a comfort break and managed to find an indifferent cup of tea and an even worse teacake. Several uncomfortable, cold hours later the lorry eventually stopped. It was completely dark.
It took them a while to collect their own kit and by that time someone had discovered they were in Leighton Buzzard – wherever that was. It was certainly much colder so it must be further north.
‘Good grief, this place looks grim,’ Ivy said.
She was equally dismayed by what she could see in the darkness. ‘I think they’re Victorian buildings. Golly, it’s starting to snow. That’s all we need – it’s like something out of a Dickens novel.’
They were herded, dragging their belongings behind them, through an archway and into a quadrangle. On either side were two blocks – hopefully one of these would be the accommodation. They were ushered into a guard room where a jolly WAAF Flight Sergeant was waiting to speak to them.
‘Welcome, ladies. I expect you’re cold, hungry and tired. Dump your kitbags here and come with me. There’s a hot meal and a hot drink waiting for you.’
There had been so many girls at Harrogate that although they had all been posted from there, nobody knew each other. The food was much better than she’d had so far and she took this to be a good sign.
By the time dinner was over the atmosphere was happy and the room full of noisy chatter. The Fl
ight Sergeant got to her feet and slowly the room became silent so she could speak to them.
‘You must be wondering where you are. This place was once a workhouse. You will be billeted here but your training will take place elsewhere. It’s a two-mile march in each direction.’
Jane exchanged a glance with her new friends. Walking two miles in all weathers and probably in the dark didn’t appeal to her.
‘Not ideal, but there’s a war on and you have to adapt to circumstances. Your training will be intensive and secret. You have to be in your billet by eight thirty every night except Friday and Saturday when you will be given a late pass until eleven o’clock.’
Briefing over they returned to collect their kitbags and be escorted to the dormitory blocks. The upper floors of these were accessible only by an iron staircase on the outside of the building. Each one had an exterior gallery and there were rows of doors opening into individual rooms.
Valerie whispered to her as they bumped their belongings up the iron staircase. Although the snow was light it was already slippery underfoot. ‘This is extremely dangerous. I hope nobody breaks her neck.’
‘I just hope none of us have to go to the ablutions block in the middle of the night. It doesn’t bear thinking of.’
The room she was to share with five others was small and bare but had one thing that made it acceptable. ‘Look at that. We’ve got our own little heater. It’s lovely and warm in here. Makes up for everything else as far as I’m concerned.’
This small, upright coke fire had a metal stack that presumably went into a central chimney. It made up for the lack of comfort everywhere else. They sat around the strange heater holding their hands out to the warmth and getting to know each other.
She slept surprisingly soundly and didn’t wake until someone opened the door wide and a gust of icy snow blew in.
‘It’s absolutely perishing out there. I was so desperate I didn’t stop to get dressed but I suggest the rest of you do so. I think it’s going to take me all day to thaw out.’ Prunella – whose father was a lord or some such thing – said as she struggled to close the door behind her.
‘I wish you hadn’t mentioned going for a pee – now I’m desperate,’ Jane said as she scrambled out of bed and began to throw on her uniform. The only good thing about this new posting was that the dormitory was warm. They’d filled up the stove with coke last thing and it had stayed hot all night.
She grabbed her wash bag, buttoned up her greatcoat, tied her scarf around her head and then was ready to brave the elements. Valerie and Ivy were still half asleep and nowhere near ready. The other two girls – she’d already forgotten their names – had remained firmly asleep despite the chaos in the small room.
No point in procrastinating. She would have to go if she didn’t want to wet her knickers. She opened the door just wide enough for her to slip through and closed it easily behind her. Prunella’s dramatic entrance had been quite unnecessary in her opinion.
By gripping on to the icy metal railing, she was able to negotiate the treacherous steps and arrive in the quadrangle without breaking her neck. She hadn’t stopped to check the time but thought it must be very early as there was no sign of life in the main block as far as she could tell with the blackouts down. She certainly couldn’t hear anything.
The WCs were spotless and she smiled wryly. No doubt some unfortunate girl had been put on fatigues and spent the time with her arm around the U-bend as she had last week. She had no intention of undressing again in order to have a bath especially as the water was stone cold. She settled for a lick and a promise, cleaned her teeth, brushed her hair and was ready to return to her lovely warm dormitory.
The wristwatch she’d been given by her mother when she’d matriculated was in her pocket. This had remained in her toilet bag as that man knew nothing about it. She’d forgotten she had it until the other day. She now got it out and strapped it on her wrist, pleased to see it was in fact already a quarter past six. The Flight Sergeant last night had told them breakfast would be served at six thirty and they had to be ready to depart to the secret destination at eight o’clock. Before then they had to stack their beds, clean the dormitory as well as eat their breakfast.
She now had three letters to post. The first was for Mrs Jackson into which she’d put a second letter for her mother. There’d been no opportunity for either of them to reply as she’d given them no forwarding address. Hopefully, once her training was finished and she had a permanent posting, things would be different. The other two were for Nancy and Charlotte, which she was sending to the address in Poplar.
She just had time to put her space in order before breakfast. Marching two miles in the dark in this appalling weather was going to be beastly.
*
Oscar continued to push his new recruits until by the end of the second day he was satisfied all of them, including Johnny, had mastered the climbing and diving that would be necessary in a real dogfight. Tonight, he would see how they flew in the dark.
He’d arranged for a flare path to be lit and his flight would have the sky to themselves. This might well be the last time any of them could practise night manoeuvres. When things kicked off it would be different and such practice jaunts wouldn’t be allowed.
‘Roy, I think we’d better do a dummy run before they go up this evening.’
‘Okay. A couple of circuits and bumps with the blokes watching and then they can have a go?’
‘That’s what I was thinking. Hang on, Chalky’s coming over.’ Pilot Officer White, better known as Chalky, was a member of the flight that he and Roy had just left.
‘What ho, how can we help?’
‘Skip wants us to take advantage of the flare path being put out for your bods tonight. He thinks we should all hone our night flying skills.’
‘Tickety-boo with me, Chalky. We’ll go first. It’s dark by five o’clock so we’ll start then. An hour should be enough. After that it’s all yours.’
‘Good show. Your new lot seem a decent bunch. I think I heard that you’ll be getting your full complement of Hurries tomorrow. You won’t have to fetch them yourself after all.’
‘That’s good news. Thanks for the gen.’
Chalky wandered off. Roy looked as happy as he felt about the news. ‘We’ll take two of the new kites – has to be some perks for those in command.’
‘Damn right. We’ll be the envy of the squadron. Each new batch is an improvement on the last.’
‘We’ve got an hour to get a wad and a cuppa. It feels colder. The last thing we want is snow,’ Roy said as he rubbed his gloved hands together.
‘At least if it’s snowing the Germans won’t be able to fly either.’
‘I wasn’t thinking of us, I was imagining how grim it must be for our soldiers in France. No way to spend the festive season, being up to your armpits in white stuff.’
Whilst he was drinking his tea his mind wandered, as it often did, to the girl he’d met and lost. Why was it that when he’d met someone he thought he could really like, things had gone pear-shaped? No time to dwell on what might have been – duty called.
He and Roy clambered into the cockpits of their kites watched by the other four. He ran through his preflight checks and it brought back to him the first time he’d flown at night when he was training. It now seemed a long time ago. He’d been terrified he’d make a hash of it but, like everything else he’d done so far in his career, his worries had been unfounded.
He took off smoothly, did his circuits of the airfield and then for the second time lined up with the flares and landed. A few minutes later Roy taxied in behind him.
His flight mechanic was there to open the cockpit and assist him out. He hopped down and walked over to the assembled pilots waiting for their turn.
‘It’s a piece of cake. Remember to concentrate on the instruments – ignore what’s outside the cockpit until you’ve done your circuits and come in to land. Do only two circuits and bumps as the temperature’
s dropping.’ He couldn’t see their expressions but they all murmured a response. ‘Good. Remember your training and you’ve got nothing to worry about.’
Johnny had drawn the short straw and was going last. Oscar wasn’t going to risk having two of them up at the same time so there would only be one Hurry circling the base at a time.
The first three bods did a first-class job and Johnny was eager to get his turn. ‘Actually, I enjoyed night flying. There’s something about being up there in the dark, all alone, that appealed to me.’
Oscar and Roy had sent the three that had completed their circuits back to the mess. No point in standing around freezing if you didn’t have to. The other chaps who were going to make use of the flare path after Johnny landed were already clambering into their kites, waiting for the runway to be clear.
The lights from Johnny’s kite got further and further away until he was airborne. ‘Christ, Oscar, he’s climbing too steeply and looks as if he’s drifting to starboard as well.’
It wasn’t Roy’s imagination. Johnny was definitely off to the right and going up too fast. He held his breath and then let it out with a hiss as the rate of climb slowed. ‘He’s still too far to the right. What’s the matter with him? He’s the most experienced flyer we’ve got. He said he likes night flying.’
‘He needs to turn to the left and watch his height.’ Oscar watched in horror as Johnny over corrected and began to lose altitude. There was nothing he could do. His stomach tied into knots.
The scream of the engine filled the night and they were no longer alone watching the tragedy unfold. Why didn’t Johnny pull up? Had he lost consciousness? Had a heart attack? Come on – pull up before it’s too late.
Oscar sent up a fervent prayer to the Almighty. The lights of the Hurry continued their downward spiral and disappeared from view. In the darkness there was a dull thud. The screaming engine was silenced. Then another noise, a hideous, ghastly sound and the sky behind the trees was lit by a red glow.
He was running towards the crash site without being aware he’d started to do so. The pounding boots of his friend were beside him. Then two fire engines and an ambulance raced past in the vain hope that Johnny could be saved.
The Girls in Blue Page 10