Tin Hats and Gas Masks

by Joan Moules

  When Johnny reached the area most of it was cordoned off. Men were working amongst the ruins of the Trad Street hostel. He spoke to the ARP warden there. ‘The girls’ hostel round the corner – were there any casualties there?’

  ‘No one killed,’ said the warden, ‘not at any of the others. Blast damage, though, that’s why you can’t get round there. Who are you looking for?’

  ‘Annie Evesham. She – she lives there.’

  The warden consulted his list. ‘She’s not down here, son. They evacuated everyone from the houses and the girls’ hostel afterwards, building not safe. Took ’em to St George’s church hall, four – no five streets away. Try there.’

  Johnny ran all the way. There was a woman in charge there, buxom, jolly-faced … but no Annie. ‘What does she look like, son?’

  ‘Bit taller than me, not much. Long dark-brown hair, very pretty.’

  ‘Evesham.’ She too looked at her list. ‘Ah, here she is. She’s gone to work. Left about half an hour ago. She your sister, son?’

  Annie returned home to her parents after the hostel was damaged in what the papers began calling the little blitz.

  ‘It’s only temporary,’ she told Johnny, ‘but it’s the best thing. Later I can say it’s too far from my job and try for another hostel, but it isn’t easy. I was lucky to get into that one. And even if I do manage to find a place I doubt if it will be a room on my own. So many of them are just dormitories. Maybe Mummy and Daddy will help with the rent of a small flat later on.’

  ‘What, on your own, Annie?’

  ‘Well no, they’ll probably insist I share, but you see they don’t want me home any more than I want to be there. You once said that you were ‘an accident’, Johnny. I hadn’t thought about it before, but I think I really must have been too. They couldn’t wait to push me off to boarding-school, and then later evacuation. I was lucky that it wasn’t to America – Daddy stopped that. He likes to see me sometimes.’

  ‘Will I still be able to see you, Annie?’

  ‘Of course you will, silly. But we’ll have to be careful. You know, with me being watched all the time. But don’t worry, Johnny, I’ll think of something, and with spring and summer coming it should be easier.’

  It was. Annie invented a friend with whom she worked. Rosanna, she called her, because one of her favourite songs at that time was Rosanna, My Lovely Russian Rose. Rosanna had more freedom than anyone Mrs Evesham knew.

  ‘Well, she is a year older than me,’ Annie explained, ‘and she loves classical music so much. You can’t leave before the end of a concert, but if I had a door-key it wouldn’t disturb you both if I came in late after a concert or show.’ For Rosanna also liked to keep up with the latest shows on in town.

  It wasn’t easy. Mr Evesham came up with the suggestion that she might like to bring Rosanna home with her one weekend, but, she was sure to her mother’s great relief, Annie found many reasons why it was impractical.

  Rosanna had an invalid mother whom she helped to look after, so she couldn’t stay away overnight. Her invalid mother also happened to be a widow, which meant she relied totally on Rosanna’s support.

  The fuss over giving her a key highlighted again the differences between her and Johnny’s life styles. Johnny had a key so that he could let himself in should his mother be out any time.

  Annie’s father came to the rescue, saying what a good idea it was. ‘Of course she can’t leave before the end, Eunice,’ he said. ‘It makes sense for her to have a key. Anita is a sensible girl and not likely to hand it over to a burglar, after all.’

  Smiling at his wife now he added, ‘I seem to remember you were given a key when we were engaged because your parents went to bed early.’

  Annie held her breath. Dear Dad, he didn’t know how close to the truth he was, she thought. The reference to those days seem to have a softening effect on his wife, however, and after a moment or two of silence she said, ‘I suppose it wouldn’t hurt. I do deplore the manners of those people who rush out before the national anthem is played.’

  Turning to her daughter she said, ‘All right, you may have a key but it isn’t a licence to be late every evening. Only when you go to a late-night concert. Otherwise we expect you to leave your friend’s house and be back here at a reasonable time.’

  Rosanna could not, however, solve the problem of where Annie and Johnny could go to do their courting. Strolling hand in hand through the streets of London they were well content, and as the evenings grew warmer they found secluded spots beneath the trees.

  Jim and Ron, although brothers, had not ‘claimed’ each other, the Bookmans explained to Annie.

  ‘It’s a thing they could do, the older one ‘claiming’ the younger one to serve in his unit so they would be together, sort of looking after each other, but we’re glad they decided against it. Too dodgy,’ Charlie Bookman said. ‘Best to be in different regiments, fighting different battles, they both stand a chance then, we reckoned, didn’t we, duck?’ He looked across to his wife and they gave each other the sort of intimate smile Annie had come to recognize as a signal of their love for each other.

  When Italy surrendered in September 1943 Charlie said with fervour, ‘Winnie’s right, we’re well on the way.’

  Annie, looking towards Maggie Bookman, saw her press her hands together as though in prayer, and kept back the words she had been going to say.

  CHAPTER 12

  1944

  Everywhere they went in the spring of 1944, Johnny and Annie saw signs of something big stirring. London was full of troops of every nationality. One of Ron’s closest friends, whose parents lived along the street from the Bookmans, was killed at the battle of Cassino.

  On their evening walks throughout May they encountered army vehicles rumbling through the streets and out of London. All the talk was of the second front, the invasion of France and on the 8 o’clock news on the 6 June, the first reports of the landings came over. An hour and a half later these were officially confirmed when John Snagge announced, ‘D-Day has come. Early this morning the allies began the assault on the north-western face of Hitler’s European fortress.’ The following morning the headlines in all the papers said D-Day. Allies land in France.

  ‘Reckon it really will be all over by Christmas now, Annie. I’ll get me barrow yet,’ Johnny said a few days later.

  ‘I’m glad I’m not a man,’ said Annie. ‘I used to think I’d like to be at one time. Men can do so much more than women. Well, they could before the war, but now women are coming into their own, so watch out, Johnny.’

  He laughed. ‘I’m glad you’re not a man, Annie.’

  ‘It must be terrifying to be amongst those first ones who landed in France,’ she said.

  ‘Exciting too. We’re the conquering ones now. Don’t think I realized before how awful it would have been if we’d been invaded, Annie. Somehow I couldn’t imagine it.’

  It was a wonderful summer for them, and Annie had plans to move into Rosanna’s family’s spare bedroom by the autumn, if she could persuade her parents of the advantages. She reeled them off to Johnny one evening. ‘Nearer my work, I can give a hand with Rosanna’s mother, cheaper, and safer,’ she giggled, ‘than living on my own. And my trump card, Johnny, I know they want to go to America to see my aunt, Mummy’s sister, and now that I’m working I can’t go with them. And I would hate to stay in the house all alone …’

  Johnny laughed and hugged her. ‘I hope you won’t manipulate me like this when we’re married, Annie.’

  She looked suitably shocked. ‘Of course not. I’m doing this for you.’

  Johnny’s mum often packed sandwiches for them during those summer Sundays.

  ‘Do be careful,’ she would say as they set off.

  Frequently they took the Green Line bus into the country, and with their haversack rations walked, talked and loved each other.

  Once Mrs Bookman said tentatively, ‘Johnny, you and Annie are still children, really you know. Fifteen mig
ht seem grown-up to you but growing up isn’t just what age you are. Don’t you think you ought to mix with other friends more? What do her parents think about you two always going off together?’

  ‘Her parents don’t care a jot about her, Mum,’ Johnny replied, ‘and don’t worry because I wouldn’t hurt Annie for all the gold in the world.’

  They had a wonderful summer. Mr and Mrs Evesham did not go to America after all. ‘We shall wait until the war is over now it’s heading that way, then we will know you are safe,’ was the reason Mrs Evesham gave to Annie.

  Annie smiled to herself over this. Perhaps it salved their consciences, she thought, the fact that they were doing everything possible to make her safe. Safe from what? From the bombs? Well, no one was completely safe from them, wherever they lived, although some areas were of course safer than others, she conceded.

  She realized that they thought she was safe from boys too, now that she was living at home. Most of her own age-group seemed like children to her, but the city was full of troops passing through on leave. Many of them were a long way from their own homes and were very lonely. Some girls her age were boy-mad, she knew, but from the moment she saw him she had only wanted Johnny. She didn’t know what the attraction was, and at first she hadn’t wanted or needed him in a loving sense. But the magnetism was there right from the start, when she saw him following Mrs Dover up the stairs, a tiny, frightened but defiant child.

  Perhaps that was what she loved about him, his fierce independent spirit – or was it those huge dark eyes in that high-cheek-boned pale face? Or the way he made her laugh? She hadn’t known then and she didn’t now. It wasn’t love she thought, not right at the beginning, but the seeds were sown then and they grew alarmingly. Sometimes it frightened her how much she loved him.

  She looked at flats nearer to her work, but as well as being scarce they were pricey and she wasn’t earning the sort of money to keep up with those rents. Sharing would be the answer, but she didn’t fancy sharing with anyone, except Johnny, she giggled to herself. If the chance to share but still have your own room occurred, she would consider it, but meanwhile the best way to save was to live at home. Her father gave her a dress-allowance, and as clothes were on coupons some of this she saved.

  She hadn’t talked to Johnny about money yet, not in a serious way. She knew he didn’t earn as much as she did, but that didn’t matter. It would be their joint income that would count when they were wed. Five years seemed long enough to put a bit in the bank now that they were both working, but Annie knew that Johnny actually kept very little of his wages. After he had given his mother some, she was sure the rest went on their outings. He would seldom allow her to open her purse.

  They hadn’t discussed where they would live when they were married either, but she had her own ideas about this. Somewhere in the country perhaps. It would have to be a small place at first, but she didn’t mind that. Not Winchurch or Bushton, they were too far from London, but there were many places she had passed through on the train in the days when she was travelling up to meet Johnny every Saturday. One of those would do nicely. Johnny had enjoyed the countryside once he had settled down and they could rent a little shop and work it up together.

  The doodlebugs, which gave an eerie warning as they cut out, and later, in September the V2s, rockets which gave no warning and left a huge crater, were still coming over, but Annie pushed the idea that either of them might not survive to the very back of her mind. Our troops were getting closer to Germany every week, and optimism in the country was high.

  In the autumn Annie had promotion; she went to the inner office to work and a new girl came to do the post, run the errands and make the tea. Her new position carried with it a rise in pay. ‘Not a lot,’ she told Johnny, ‘but it will add to our savings.’

  ‘What savings, Annie?’

  ‘For later when we get married.’

  ‘Blimey, Annie, it’ll be years and years yet.’

  ‘I know that,’ she answered placidly, ‘but if I start now we’ll have something in the bank when we need it, Johnny.’

  ‘But I’m not contributing. That’s your money and it isn’t fair for you to go without things.’

  ‘I’ve got everything I want, Johnny, honestly.’

  He was silent for so long she thought she had really upset him, then he said suddenly, ‘’Course, when we are married, Annie, I’ll have my own barrow. I’ll make a bit more then.’

  ‘Later you might be able to have a shop, Johnny, have you thought about that?’

  ‘Not really, but I suppose we could. Be warmer than the barrow in the winter. Depends when the war’s over though, doesn’t it, gal, and how much the rents are? You’ve more overheads with a shop.’

  She left the thought with him and snuggled close. ‘There’s plenty of time,’ she said.

  By Christmas victory looked certain, but when? On the wireless Adelaide Hall was singing ‘The Happiest New Year Of All’, and Annie saw Mrs Bookman wipe the tears from her eyes when she heard the song. There were photographs of Jim and Ron in their army uniform, standing either side of the mantelpiece, and when she was there one Saturday night, waiting for Johnny and his dad to come home, Mrs Bookman picked them up and said, ‘One thing, Annie, the war should be over now before Johnny has a chance to join up.’

  ‘Yes. You’ll be glad to see your other sons home, too.’

  ‘It’s not finished yet,’ Mrs Bookman said cautiously, ‘and there’s a lot gone. Young men, and women, who had all their living to do. It’s a wicked world, Annie.’

  Johnny and his dad came in then, and the quiet moments were broken, but Annie felt that Mrs Bookman had at last accepted her as part of the family. She thought, she realizes that Johnny and I will get married one day, and she was talking to me woman to woman.

  Annie spent Christmas Day with the Bookmans, although her parents thought she was spending it with Rosanna and her mother. But on Boxing Day she stayed in with her own parents. She didn’t invite Johnny because she knew he would hate it, and she wasn’t sure whether her mother would agree anyway. If she didn’t, Annie thought, we would quarrel, and it would do no good.

  She had passed her first typing examination in the autumn and now with a working knowledge of bookkeeping, sixty words a minute on the typewriter, and a basic knowledge of shorthand – her speed wasn’t too good yet but she was working on that – she had hopes of finding a more lucrative paying job in the New Year.

  CHAPTER 13

  In December 1944 there was heavy fighting in the hills and forests of the Ardennes in Eastern Belgium. The fog and wintry weather, and the difficult terrain, kept the battle raging for six weeks.

  Annie and Johnny knew the Bookmans were worried because there had been no word from Ron. There was a brief note from Jim in time for Christmas, on which he had drawn a rotund and cheeky-looking snowman. Charlie Bookman tried to jolly them all along by saying how unreliable the post could be at times like this and, with all the greetings coming and going, his was probably in a bag that had got pushed to the bottom of the pile or even sunk at sea.

  As January blew the icy winds across the channel to Britain even he refrained from comment, at least within Johnny’s and Annie’s hearing.

  It was the beginning of February 1945 when Ron was reported ‘missing, believed killed.’ Mrs Bookman took the news as Annie would have expected, with great courage. Johnny was inconsolable.

  He swore and shouted, cursed and cried, but only with Annie. ‘I have to keep up the pretence that he isn’t dead when Mum’s around,’ he said, one night. ‘She’s clinging to that “believed killed” bit. Not proven. But Annie, he’s dead, otherwise they’d know where he was.’

  ‘I think you’re right, Johnny, but, although your mum’s hoping and praying for Ronnie’s return, I think she realizes and accepts this too. But, well, it’s that streak of optimism in her, Johnny. I think she’s been marvellous.’

  ‘And I haven’t?’

  ‘I didn’t
say that.’

  It was their first quarrel, and it took off in a way that scared them both. And although in the end they weren’t arguing over the implied criticism, but over deeper issues of their ability to understand the other’s feelings, it hurt Annie badly that such a tragedy could start it up. They stood at the bus-stop in silence. Never before had the bus seemed to take such a time. It usually arrived much too quickly for them. Annie broke the strain. ‘Don’t wait,’ she said, ‘I can manage.’

  Johnny walked off. Seconds before the bus arrived he returned, seeming to materialize by her side in the queue without her seeing him coming. ‘Sorry, Annie. I’m a bit het up,’ he said.

  Her eyes filled with tears. ‘I’m sorry too, Johnny. I didn’t mean any of the bad things I said.’

  ‘Nor me. Blast, here’s the bus. Tomorrow night?’

  ‘I’ll come round straight from work.’

  They didn’t stay in. Mrs Bookman urged them out, Annie suspected that it was so she need not put on a brave face any longer.

  It was too cold for walking for long, yet neither were in the mood for the pictures, so they went to the Express Dairies, their favourite drinking place. They sat on high stools and talked about Ron. ‘Jim’ll take it hard,’ Johnny said. ‘They were close. Being so much younger I was never part of their set-up, but I – well, I guess I looked up to them both in my way. Yes, they were both my heroes. I feel so mean, Annie, I grumbled because Mum left Ron’s stuff in the bedroom when I came home. I wanted to clear it all out. Now, well, I don’t know what to do. I lay in bed last night and looked up at his shelf and I – I blubbed like a baby, Annie.’

  ‘Johnny, oh Johnny, I wish I could help, but there’s nothing I can say that would, is there? It is just possible that he’s a prisoner, or injured, but—’

  ‘I know. I hope, well I just hope it was quick, Annie. See, that’s one of the things about it: we don’t know. Either where he is or where he died, or how. I don’t know why, but it would help I think, if we knew.’