by June Hirst
‘Where are you Minerva my mysterious secret love?’ She opened her eyes and shivered, then reached for her mother’s photograph from the bedside cupboard. Tears poured down her cheeks, as she clutched the photograph to her breast.
‘Oh mother what shall I do?’ she whispered. I long for Martin and yet I gave myself to Ricky. I can make the excuse that it is wartime. Was that what you said when you gave yourself to my father? It must have given him comfort to think of you when he was in the stinking trenches, before he was so cruelly slaughtered. Ricky said that he thinks of me when he is confined in the cockpit of his plane. Does Martin still think of me? What has fate in store for me?’ The other girls were fast asleep and Mary was snoring as usual. She turned over on the hard bed and tried to empty her mind. Martin kept looking at her and smiling. She made her decision. If Ricky came back she would not go to their love nest in the woods or in the hayfield. With the decision made she fell asleep, at last.
Minerva and Victoria soon settled back into duties. Now that they were Corporals they found that the days seemed to fly by. The Wellington bombers were taking off and landing every day, so they still had to drive to the Ammunition factory to fetch bombs. There was not much time for socialising. Every day they counted the bombers out and counted them back in, living in dread of the fearful announcement, ‘some of our planes are missing’.
One morning they were all awakened early by the whole fleet of Wellington bombers taking off. The heavy slow droning meant that they were fully loaded. All the W.A.A.F.s were apprehensive, as they wondered what was happening. Mollie and Mary had crept out early and were already on duty in the cookhouse when the other girls arrived.
‘What’s happening Mollie they don’t usually take off so early?’ Vanessa asked.
‘I don’t know but it’s something big. The men had eaten breakfast when we arrived this morning and they were all unusually quiet. They would not speak to us as they rushed out.’
‘Crikey! I hope that it doesn’t mean invasion. Let’s have a good breakfast just in case. Oh good it’s cornflakes and I’ll have two jam sandwiches before the Germans eat them’, Vanessa joked.
‘It’s not funny Vanessa. It certainly is no joking matter. You won’t be laughing if the German paratroopers start landing,’ Angela retorted.
‘Oh don’t be so pessimistic Angela. Our brave R.A.F. boys will shoot them out of the sky. They have got to get past them first,’ Victoria added.
‘Well Vanessa should not joke about it, because it is a very frightening thought,’ Angela replied.
‘Now don’t start you two. Anyway a good laugh does you a power of good. Maybe our boys will bomb them to smithereens, before they can parachute in. I shall be inspecting the huts today after we have reported to Sergeant Benson, so shift all that rubbish from under your bed Vanessa, Minerva said.
‘O.K. Corporal Sir,’ Vanessa joked again as she saluted Minerva and they all laughed.
When the two corporals reported for duty they found the two sergeants sitting at their desks looking very white and shocked.
‘Sit down girls, Sergeant Benson said the news is very bad. The British Expeditionary Force is retreating. The bombers have gone to their aid and all fighter planes have taken off. Thousands of men will be trapped between the German army and the sea. It is up to the R.A.F. to defend them and the Navy to rescue them. This is our darkest day.’
Minerva and Victoria stared at each other. They were both shocked and horrified. This was the reality of war. They had been laughing and joking in the cookhouse, while thousands of soldiers were facing danger, defeat and death.
‘Does that mean France has fallen?’ Minerva asked.
‘It can’t be long before the German Swastika is flying in Paris now,’ Sergeant Harris replied.
‘That means we shall stand alone, against the mighty German war machine,’ Minerva said and both girls shivered. Winston Churchill told us that the country needs young women like us and we shall be ready for anything that happens.’
‘Well said Corporal Wood, but what do you mean when you say Winston Churchill told us?’ Sergeant Benson asked.
‘We met him when we were with my parents. He is a friend of my father,’ Victoria told her.
‘I am thankful that he is now our Prime Minister,’ Sergeant Harris said. We need a strong leader. It is now our most dangerous time. The news of our army retreating will cause great despondency, despair and panic.’
. ‘ It will not help if we call a meeting of all W.A.A.F.s to lecture them about the situation and encourage them to be prepared for all eventualities, Sergeant Benson added, so the four of us will have a quiet word as we go about our duties. We will all meet in the recreation room at 20 -55 hours to listen to the news. They will tell us what they want us to know. Make sure that they all attend.’
Suddenly they heard the first Wellington returning. They all jumped up and dashed to the window, where they anxiously counted them back in. After number eight they gazed into the sky awaiting numbers nine and ten. Nothing could be heard, not a sound except their breathing. In the distance the aeroplanes were lined up and the crews were wearily walking to the debriefing operational section
‘They must be going to take off again, because the planes are going to be reloaded. Look here come the bombs!’ Minerva exclaimed.
‘They will be going back to aid the retreating army, by bombing the pursuing tanks,’ Sergeant Benson told them.
‘Extra help will be needed in the operation room. I think that we should all go there,’ Sergeant Harris decided.
The two missing planes still had not returned as the four women, quickly, made their way to offer help. The atmosphere was tense when they arrived. Sergeant Benson led the way.
‘Can we be of assistance?’ she asked.
‘You can take over Sergeant. Some of us will have to go out with the next attack. Two of our bombers are missing. One was shot down over Belgium. As yet we have no news, but the other has crash landed, badly damaged, at the mouth of the river Humber.’
Minerva was looking at the operations table and thinking about the reality of the situation. She dare not speak until the officers had left.
‘This must be where the army is stranded,’ she said as she pointed to Dunkirk.
‘May God be with them,’ Sergeant Harris whispered, and also with the R.A.F. and the Navy.
The Flight Sergeant returned and assigned the four W.A.A.F.s to plot a plane each, when the eight bombers took off. Minerva and Victoria hardly dared breath. This was very new to them and they must concentrate and prove their worth. The minutes ticked by, which seemed like hours and hours seemed like days. The Flight Sergeant announced that the squadron was ready to discharge the bombs. They could see that they were over France, inland from Dunkirk. This time all eight planes returned. Even with extended daylight hours, flares had lit the runway to guide them in.
The four W.A.A.F.s finished their duties and then went to reassure the other girls and tell them to report to the recreation room to listen to the nine o’clock news. Everyone was upset, because the two planes had not returned and the news was not very informative. It was left to the Airmen to inform the girls what they had seen. It was horrifying news and almost beyond their imagination. There were thousands of men stranded on the sand dunes and beaches waiting to be rescued or blown to smithereens.
As the days went by news began to filter through of the great evacuation from the beaches of Dunkirk. Every available ship and small boat had taken part in the rescue across the dangerous waters amidst great danger from German air attack.
Morale was high at the camp when Churchill announced that 335,000 troops could not have been evacuated without the superiority of the R.A.F.
For a few days after the great rescue from Dunkirk it was quiet at R.A.F. Brackston. Minerva’s thoughts returned to Martin Moxon. He would be working flat out on the damaged planes and overhauling them ready for the next onslaught. This was the calm before the expected storm. Th
e fleet of wagons was going to the Ammunition factory to fetch more bombs and Minerva was in charge. She waited in the garage for the drivers to arrive. She checked her appearance in a small mirror.
You will do Corporal Wood, she said. Her gentle brown eyes stared back at her. The air force blue suited her blonde colouring. Curls peeped out from the front of her hat while the rest were tucked into the regulation roll to keep her hair well above her collar. The sun was beating down and she was very hot. She had cast her regulation blackouts and she was wearing a pair of Victoria’s frilly panties and black silk stockings which she had bought in London, instead of woollen ones. The drivers were arriving.
‘Good morning everyone. Let’s get on the road immediately. It is very hot, so we will take off our jackets and loosen our ties, while we are driving, but back to regulations when we arrive.’
‘Yes Corporal,’ everyone replied, thankfully.
‘Most of you have not driven in this convoy before. I shall be leading the way. Has anyone been before?’
I have 4965 Wilson, Corporal, an Air Man replied.
.’You will be the tail man Wilson, make sure that nobody strays.’ Minerva led the convoy through York and Tadcaster to the Ammunition factory in Leeds. She had made the journey many times, but she was proud to be in charge for the first time. She had plenty time to think as the convoy rolled along. It was hard to believe that last year at this time she was drab, quiet Minnie Wood. Martin Moxon was the mill owner’s son and she stood at her loom for nine hours a day. Then she met Martin on the moors and the magic happened. She had captured his heart, but she had to let him go. Their love would not be acceptable. She could not hurt him and she had made the sacrifice for his sake. But now fate might bring them together again. Little Minnie Wood had disappeared. She was now 3030 Corporal Wood a very respected and efficient W.A.A.F.
When they arrived she led her drivers into the canteen, where they received the usual welcome. The new drivers enjoyed the attention. After they had eaten Minerva left them to enjoy their selves, while she went to check on the loading and she could not help but remember how they used to be patronised and mocked by the men. The W.A.A.F.s were now accepted and respected. She collected the drivers and the heavily loaded convoy set off on the return journey to the bomb depot. Minerva tried not to think about the destruction, that her lethal load would cause.
Victoria was waiting for her in the hut bursting with news.
‘Minerva you will never guess what happened while you were away. Go on try and guess.’
‘You laddered your stockings and Sergeant Benson gave you ten pairs,’ Minerva jokingly replied.
‘Very funny, be serious’.
‘I don’t know what happened. Go on tell me.’
‘I saw a Spitfire land, so I managed to sneak across to the hangars, because I thought it might be Parky, but when I arrived with a piece of paper in my hand pretending to look for Sergeant Jenkins, you will never guess what I saw. She stopped and took hold of Minerva’s hand. Let’s sit down,’ she said.
‘Victoria, will you please tell me what you saw. You are making me think that it was Adolf Hitler.’
‘Wow! Minerva he removed his flying helmet and I saw the most handsome face with startling blue eyes and jet black hair. I hid and listened. Minerva, it was Martin Moxon’. The colour had drained from Minerva’s face and her heart was threatening to jump into her dry throat. She put her head between her knees to stop herself from fainting. Victoria held her tightly until she recovered and sat up.
‘Victoria, are you sure!’
‘Of course I heard them say that Flight Sergeant Moxon had brought a special part for one of the Wellingtons. Oh Minerva if only you had been there.’
‘Fate was playing her part Victoria. It was not to be. Has he gone?’
‘Yes I saw him take off this afternoon. We can ask some questions tonight in the bar. Come on let’s go for dinner I’m starving.’
It was while they were in the bar that news came through that France had fallen and Great Britain stood alone against the mighty German Army. They listened to Winston Churchill, as he told them that the Battle of France was over and the Battle of Britain was about to begin. Vanessa was on duty behind the bar and Sunny Saunders was keeping her company. Minerva and Victoria joined them.
‘Sunny I saw a Spitfire land this afternoon. I thought that it might be Parky. I haven’t heard from him since he left,’ Victoria said.
Sunny took a deep drink from his pint of beer and looked at Vanessa. She nodded.
‘May I buy you both a drink Vanessa has saved some whisky for you,’ he said.
‘I’ve never had any whisky,’ Minerva replied.
‘It will do you good, here you are,’ Vanessa said, not giving Minerva time to refuse. As she gave Victoria her drink Vanessa pressed her hand trying to communicate a message by directing her eyes to Minerva.
‘In answer to your question Victoria it was not Parky. It was Flight Sergeant Moxon from R.A.F. Bilton. He was testing a Spitfire and he brought a special piece of equipment. He also brought bad news, Minerva,’ Sunny announced.’ There is no way of saying this except officially. During the evacuation from Dunkirk, Flying Officer Richard Richardson was shot down and killed. I’m very sorry.’
Victoria flung her arms around Minerva and caught her, as she fell to the floor unconscious. Sunny took off his coat and made a pillow as they gently laid down her on the floor.
‘Turn her on her side in the recovery position,’ he said.’ Move away everybody give her some air.’
‘Shall I ring for the Medical Officer?’ Vanessa asked
‘No he’ll put her in sick bay. She needs us. When she comes round, we’ll give her the whisky and then we’ll take her back to our hut,’ Victoria told them. Minerva moaned and started to move. She opened her eyes and saw Victoria, Vanessa and Sunny kneeling over her. She tried to sit up.
‘Take it easy love, you have had a shock. Sit up gently,’ Victoria said. Vanessa held the whisky to Minerva’s lips,
‘Here sip this Minerva,’ she said. Minerva sipped and coughed as the fiery liquid trickled down her throat and she remembered.
‘Take another sip love,’ Vanessa urged,’ Whisky is good for shock’, and she held the glass to Minerva’s mouth.
‘Oh, no! Tell me it’s not true, not Ricky. It can’t be Ricky. He is so full of life. He has so many plans. Oh my God no! Why, why?’ Vanessa saw Chalky White just coming into the bar and quickly went to tell him the news and ask him to relieve her from behind the bar.
Together Victoria and Vanessa took Minerva back to the empty hut. It was still daylight and the setting sun was shining through the window. A sunbeam was settling on Minerva’s photographs of her parents she noticed and gasped. It felt, as though they were sympathising with her, as the sun sparkled on the glass.
‘What is it love what can you see?’ Victoria asked.
‘It’s the photographs. Just for a few seconds I thought that my parents were watching me.’ Victoria and Vanessa followed her gaze.
‘Maybe they are darling. You never know,’ Vanessa said and Victoria swallowed hard and blew her nose.
‘I have been feeling guilty about making love with Ricky. It felt immoral, but now I’m glad that I did. He said that he thought of me when he was enclosed in the cockpit of his plane. I’m glad that I made him happy. I’ll never forget him. He never talked about his parents, but they will be devastated.’ The sun had set and the three girls sat on Minerva’s bed holding hands and weeping together. The other girls arrived and offered their sympathy. They had all liked Ricky. He had made them laugh and he was kind and generous. After he was posted to Bilton, the atmosphere in the bar was never the same.
‘Shall I go and make us a drink of hot milk?’ Mary asked.
‘That’s a good idea Mary,’ Vanessa replied and they all agreed. Mollie went to help her.
I’ve brought some whisky, for medical purposes. We’ll all have a tot in our milk, Vanessa to
ld them. They were all in pyjamas and the blackout curtains were drawn when Mary and Mollie returned with a jug of hot milk and eight mugs. Vanessa topped up each mug with whisky. They all sat on Minerva’s and Victoria’s beds and sipped their soothing drinks in comfortable silence, each thinking her own thought. Vanessa raised her mug,
‘To Ricky, God bless him where ever he is. His memory will live on.’
‘To Ricky, God bless him,’ they all said. The hot milk and whisky worked and soon all the girls were asleep. Tomorrow was another day and whatever it might bring they would be ready. Ricky had given his life and as Winston Churchill had told them;
We shall fight on the beaches.
We shall fight on the landing grounds.
We shall fight in the streets and in the fields.
We shall fight in the hills.
We shall never surrender
Chapter 13
The crew of the Wellington bomber, which had crashed at the mouth of the River Humber had returned. The missing crew of the lost aeroplane were probably prisoners of war. Minerva was very quiet as she carried out her duties. Ricky had played a very big part in her life. Never before had she experienced physical intimacy. He had transported her into blissful fantasy. She would never forget their love nests in the woods and the hay field and she would never forget him, because if she did it would be as though he had never existed.
Victoria and Vanessa tried to be cheerful, but the fear of invasion by the German army was always hovering over them like a big black cloud. Vanessa was on duty behind the bar in the Officers Mess, but now that Parky had relocated and Ricky was dead, Victoria and Minerva had no escorts to take them there. Victoria decided that Parky was history and she needed a new escort, but Minerva made up her mind that she would now remain faithful to Martin Moxon in the hope that fate would be on her side. The girls were discussing the problem in the recreation room.