To Have and to Hold

by Anne Bennett

  As the Jarrow men trudged their way to the seat of government, Oswald Mosley, who was the leader of the British Union of Fascists, led an anti-Jewish march along Mile End Road in the East End of London, where many Jews lived or had businesses. There was much destruction as the premises were looted and ransacked, and any who protested were beaten up. Carmel, looking at the pictures in the paper Paul had brought home that night, felt sick.

  Strangely, no repercussions followed. There were relatively few arrests at the time, and those responsible for the atrocities were never brought to book for it, including Mosley himself, although witnesses said he had incited the violence.

  On the other hand, the Prime Minister not only refused to see any of the deputies of the Jarrow March, but told the men unless they dispersed and went home, they would be arrested.

  ‘It’s because that Mosley is one of the toffs and the fellows from Jarrow aren’t,’ one of the nurses said in the dinner hall. ‘My chap told me.’

  ‘Mosley still shouldn’t be above the law,’ Carmel said.

  ‘Are you kidding?’ Jane answered scornfully. ‘How many toffs have you read about coming up before the judge? The whole of this society hinges on class.’

  Carmel cried at the pictures of those defeated, dejected men retuning home with no promise of a better life for their families or themselves, and they had set out with such hope in October. She knew what it was like to feel that yawning emptiness of acute and extreme hunger that lasted years, not days or weeks. She had seen, even through the grainy newsprint, the wasted look on the men’s faces and read the panic and despair in their eyes.

  ‘It’s all corrupt, if you ask me,’ Carmel said fiercely to the others at the house. ‘Those poor, wretched men are harassed and threatened with imprisonment while Mosley and his cronies get away with mayhem and brutality.’ She added, ‘I know what it feels like to be beaten for nothing. The Jews must have felt like that, and what father could stand by and see his home destroyed and his wife and children terrified and not make some sort of complaint about it? And you know what really gets to me is that they didn’t even have any redress in law, for the distressed Jews had been ignored just as effectively as the men from Jarrow.’

  It seemed the last straw for Carmel when Edward decided that if he couldn’t become King and also marry Wallis Simpson and have her respected as Queen, he would abdicate in favour of his brother. The announcement of the abdication was scheduled to be broadcast at eleven o’clock on Friday, 11 December. In the end it was short and to the point as Edward said he would find it impossible to discharge his duties as King as he would wish to do without the help and support of the woman he loved.

  Ruby came in to listen as she and George hadn’t a wireless. When it was over she said, ‘My George says it’s a good job him leaving, like.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because he is great friends with the Germans, ain’t he?’

  ‘Is he?’ Carmel asked.

  ‘Yeah, and if war comes, like…’

  ‘There won’t be a war, though, will there?’ Carmel said. ‘The Great War was the war to end all wars.’

  ‘That’s what they said,’ Ruby said. ‘Mark my words, we ain’t heard the last of Germany, and if the balloon goes up, I want a man I can trust as King, not someone who is a friend of the enemy.’

  Strangely, Carmel found many people, including Paul and Chris, felt the same as the Hancocks about the former King, and thought the new one was a man they could trust, though she thought him very uninspiring.

  ‘He’ll be all right, will George,’ Paul assured her. ‘He might not be as flamboyant and charming as his brother, but people will find he has far more integrity, especially if he can conquer that wretched stammer.’

  The one who lamented the abdication of Edward was, of course, Aileen Roberts.

  ‘I hear he is moving to a new country,’ she said a few days later. ‘Even if he stays, as he is sort of in disgrace, the papers won’t be photographing him all the time any more.’

  ‘If that woman had an ounce of breeding and any thought about doing what was right, then she would have gone right away from Edward and let him get on with the job he has been trained for from the cradle,’ one of the other nurses commented.

  ‘And what then?’ Carmel said. ‘People say Edward was too friendly with Adolf Hitler for their liking, and it could be awkward if later they became our enemies. So I’ll stick with George. Better safe than sorry, I say.’

  All four in the house were working over Christmas that year, which they thought only fair. However, they were off for New Year and the house fairly filled with friends to say goodbye to the old year.

  They had the wireless on and when Big Ben began to chime the witching hour, glasses were raised and clinked together and there were hugs and kisses and cries of ‘Happy New Year’. Suddenly, Carmel found herself pulled into the corner of the room by Paul and he hugged her tight.

  ‘Happy New Year, darling,’

  ‘And to you, Paul,’ she said. ‘To tell you the truth, I am glad to see the back of 1936 and I hope 1937 is better.’

  At first it really seemed that things had improved for the four sharing the house. Now, with the men more senior doctors, their hours were more regulated and they were starting to have more of a social life.

  Spring came early that year and towards the end of April, the days were definitely warmer and the evenings lighter. Everyone was looking forward to a temperate spring, leading to an even better summer.

  Then, on 26 April, forty-three German aircraft attacked Guernica, a small town in the Basque area of Spain. Guernica was filled with its own people, refugees and those drawn in to shop, for it was Monday and market day. Those in the house heard about it first on the wireless and then read about it in the papers the next day. They saw the pictures of the mounds of rubble that had once been streets of houses, mixed with corpses and mangled, severed limbs, and the survivors traumatised and distressed.

  The sight brought tears to Carmel’s eyes, but Paul knew he was looking at a foretaste of what would happen in Britain if they went to war with Germany. He felt as if the whole world was in a spiral and the only outcome would be war, a war that would affect them all. He had talked over with Chris and his father what he intended to do if and when this happened. Jeff said he should try to prepare Carmel, but Paul hesitated to do that yet.

  The new King, who would be known as King George VI, had his coronation on 12 May 1937, and although it was celebrated in the hospital as well as in towns and cities all over the UK, the rejoicing was muted compared to the anniversary celebrations for his father in 1935. The patients in the General, however, were happy enough with the festive food, the like of which few of them had seen for years, and the children were entertained with a puppet show followed by a conjurer, while the adults were treated to a concert.

  The Prime Minister Baldwin retired not long after that and his place was taken by Neville Chamberlain.

  ‘I don’t know whether he is the sort of man this country needs at this time,’ Jeff declared to his son one day.

  Carmel didn’t either. She had never been bothered about world affairs previously, but she had become interested in the talks around the table and gone on to discuss things with Lois and the others at work, where there was always a paper lying about in the rest room. As far as Carmel was concerned, the world was in complete disarray. In her opinion the country needed a strong man at the helm to steer Britain safely through the choppy waters.

  ‘The world seems a really unsafe place at the moment,’ Carmel told Paul one night as they lay in bed, as 1937 was drawing to a close ‘I’m glad we made the decision not to have children, aren’t you? I mean, this is no place to bring a child into at the moment.’

  Paul murmured agreement and Carmel said, ‘Do you think it will all calm down in the end?’

  Paul sighed. ‘I would like to say yes, to reassure you everything will be fine…’

  ‘But it wouldn’t be true,�
�� Carmel said, ‘and I am no wean to be fobbed off. I need the truth. Do you think it will eventually come to war?’

  Paul was silent so long that it was answer enough.

  ‘You do, don’t you?’

  ‘I think it may come to that, yes.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘Who knows that, pet? I’m not a world leader. They decide these things.’

  ‘But you think it is inevitable?’

  ‘Yes, in my heart of hearts I feel it is unavoidable. And when it comes, you know I will have to go. Everyone will have to do their bit.’

  Carmel gave a sharp intake of breath, but she knew that already really. It was the type of man he was.

  ‘But let us get it in perspective,’ he went on ‘It won’t happen tomorrow, or the day after, and tonight I am sure I can think of something to take our mind off all this doom and gloom—for now, at least.’

  Carmel submitted to Paul’s embrace eagerly enough, though her mind was elsewhere, and she lay awake long after his even breathing told her he was asleep.

  In March the following year, Hitler and his armies goose-stepped unopposed into Austria and took over its government in a pact with them known as the Anschluss. Then he turned his attention to Sudetenland, an area of Czechoslovakia where there were many German-speaking people, and which he said felt more German than Czechoslovakian.

  The only cheering news at this depressing time was that British unemployment had eased slightly, and there were fewer clusters of dejected men hanging around the street corners.

  ‘Why do you think that is?’ Carmel asked Paul one evening.

  Paul shrugged. ‘Something to do with the new factories going up, I suppose.’

  ‘So why weren’t these factories erected earlier?’

  ‘Maybe the powers that be thought we had no need for them.’

  ‘Well, why do we need them now, all of a sudden?’

  ‘Because every week and month that passes we are one step nearer to war,’ Paul said. ‘I would like to take a bet that most, if not all, of the new factories are concerned in some way with making armaments.’

  It was a chilling thought. Yet just a few short months later, Carmel knew that Paul was wrong. Mr Chamberlain and Edouard Daladier, France’s Prime Minister, had gone to Munich and seen Herr Hitler himself. Hitler signed a treaty of peace with both countries on the acquisition of Sudetenland. On 30 September, Chamberlain came back to Britain waving this piece of paper and declaring that there would be ‘peace for our time’.

  Everyone appeared to breath a sigh of relief, although both Paul and Chris said Britain was crazy to trust the word of Hitler and they should use this lull in hostilities to prepare for what they imagined to be the biggest onslaught there had ever been. But Britain seemed to hover in an uneasy belief in peace.

  On 15 March 1939, when Hitler made a triumphant entry into Prague, Paul said it was only to be expected and he didn’t think the man would be content until he had the whole of Europe under his jackboot.

  ‘There’s not much left of Europe, though, is there,’ Carmel said, ‘with Franco now in control in Spain and Mussolini in Italy?’

  ‘Well, I think he will go for Poland next,’ Chris said.

  ‘What about “peace in our time”?’ Lois asked.

  ‘Not worth the paper it was written on,’ Chris said, and Carmel, for the first time, faced the fact that war was inevitable.

  It seemed too that the government had woken up. The following month the Territorial Army were mobilised, any serving abroad were brought back, and on 27 April there was an announcement that there was going to be conscription introduced for young men of twenty and twenty-one years of age to be brought into effect immediately.

  That night, as they snuggled in bed, Paul drew Carmel close and said, ‘This is it, pet.’

  ‘But…what do you mean?’ she cried. ‘War hasn’t even been declared.’

  ‘It’s only a matter of time.’

  ‘Then why don’t you wait until you have to go?’

  ‘Because this way, I will have a choice,’ Paul said. ‘I want to join the Medical Corps of the Royal Warwickshires. You needn’t worry, I won’t even be in the firing line. Even if I am sent abroad you can imagine that their field hospitals will be some way from the battlefield, and they will be desperate for doctors now. Each of those conscripts will have to have a thorough examination to see if they are fit to be shot at. Chris is going too; we agreed to go together. In fact, at this moment he is probably telling Lois the same.’

  Now Carmel understood the look that had passed between the men as they had listened to the announcement earlier and, gentle though Paul’s voice was, Carmel heard the steel in it and knew he had already made his mind up. She could rant and rave, for all the good it would do. He had told her what he intended to do months before and now she must let him go and face life without her beloved Paul. The only consolation was that he would be safe, or as safe as anyone could be in a war, but she knew also that their lives might never be the same again.

  Carmel and Lois decided that they would throw a party for the boys who would be leaving to join their regiments on Sunday, 14 May. The party was planned for the day before.

  Carmel told Paul he had to tell his mother what he had done. Jeff was immensely proud of the decision his son had made and told him so. However, Jeff knew that Emma would hardly view it in the same light and agreed with Carmel that Paul had to see her and tell her face to face.

  Matthew couldn’t understand what had made him join up in the first place.

  ‘I’d be conscripted eventually anyway,’ Paul had said. ‘Then I might have had no choice of where I was put or anything.’

  ‘Couldn’t you have claimed exemption as a medical man?’

  ‘I don’t know. I didn’t try.’

  ‘Well, I will,’ Matthew declared. ‘They will have to drag me away kicking and screaming. As the manager of an engineering factory, I’ll probably be able to claim exemption.’

  ‘What about Dad?’

  ‘What about him?’ Matthew said. ‘By the time he arrives in the morning, he is usually in no fit state for anything much. Even if you don’t live at home you must be aware of how much he is drinking. He virtually lives at the club, though I don’t blame him totally. The situation at home is bloody awful most of the time and I am out of it too, as much as I can be.’

  Paul knew his brother spoke the truth. Whenever he met his father at his club, he had been aware how much he was putting away, though when he came to see them at the house, he was much more sober. Paul felt sorry for his father for he had told him things, once the beer had loosened his tongue, that he probably never would have told him sober. Paul thought he had had one hell of a life, one way or another.

  ‘You’re mad anyway to leave that pretty little wife of yours,’ Matthew went on, bringing Paul’s thoughts back to the present. ‘I should think there will be plenty of offers to warm her bed at night once you are out of the way.’

  Paul smiled. ‘It isn’t all about sex, Matthew. Carmel understands that I must do this.’

  ‘Well, you go and do your bit, Paul,’ Matthew sneered. ‘I will employ my energies to staying out of the armed forces. It will be all right for you, safe in a field hospital miles far from enemy lines. I have no wish to end my life on the end of a German bayonet.’

  Paul shrugged. ‘You must do as you see fit.’

  When the little maid of all work told Emma that Paul wanted to see her, her heart leaped with hope. When she had lost Paul to that little trollop, she felt as if her heart had been torn to shreds. None could take his place, certainly not his younger brother, whose presence in the house was an irritant rather than a comfort.

  She even tried not to see her husband. It wasn’t hard, for he was seldom in, even for meals, which suited both of them. In fact, evening after evening she had sat in isolated splendour in the dining room and eaten the meal the cook had prepared and then sat alone in the sitting room. She seldom met friends
, for she often imagined them sneering at her. For years she had expounded the virtues of Paul and the marvellous future ahead of him, which Paul had thrown back in her face, and now she felt she was a laughing stock.

  The exemption to this was Millicent Chisholm and her daughter Melissa. Emma and Millicent had planned for years that Melissa and Paul would marry. They had been together since babyhood with their mothers looking on fondly. It would have been so suitable, and Melissa had been more than willing. So had Paul been before that conniving little nurse had enticed him away. Emma couldn’t bring herself to believe they could ever be happy together. How could they be when they were from two entirely different worlds?

  Now Paul had come to see her and he’d come alone. Emma was convinced Paul had come to tell her he could no longer live with Carmel Duffy, that he had married her only as a stab of defiance against his mother and he realised he had made a mistake.

  It was unfortunate that there was no divorce in the Catholic Church, but surely to God, one error of judgement shouldn’t be allowed to blight a person’s life for ever. Maybe they could get an annulment. Money could buy most things, Emma knew. They might have to pay dearly but, no matter, the money would be found to gain Paul’s release.

  However, the Paul that stood before his mother a little later didn’t look at all like a man who was going to admit to some faux pas in his personal life. She had spent a lifetime studying the son she had loved so much, but she had seldom seem him look like he did that day.

  Emma rose to her feet as Paul entered the room. She looked into his deep blue eyes and saw the challenge in them. She wasn’t going to let him know that he was forgiven for upsetting her until she heard what he had to say and so she said in clipped tones, ‘You wished to see me?’ And then added before he could speak, ‘Shall we take a seat and I am sure Mary won’t mind making us some tea?’