Home Front Girls

by Rosie Goodwin

  ‘I’ve had a wonderful day,’ he told her sincerely as they stood on the platform waiting for his train to pull in. ‘I almost don’t want to go home. The time seems to have flown by.’

  Dotty felt the same and merely nodded because the lump that had formed in her throat was stopping her from saying anything. He had a bag with her manuscript tucked safely away inside it and now he told her, ‘I shall get this to Paul, my editor friend, first thing in the morning. I know he’s longing to read the rest of it, and between you and me, by the time you come next week I have a funny feeling I might have good news for you.’

  Dotty felt bereft as he stepped onto the train after giving her a quick hug. Then he appeared in a carriage window and she waved until she felt as if her arm was about to drop off.

  ‘Until next week,’ he mouthed through the glass as the train chugged back into life. And then she was walking and running alongside it until she reached the end of the platform and the train disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

  She moved disconsolately to the entrance and headed for the bus station, but she had gone no further than a few hundred yards when a piercing siren sounded. People were panicking and scattering in every direction as they rushed for cover, and it was then that she realised what the sound was: one that the people of Coventry had hoped never to hear. The siren was warning them that an air raid was imminent. For a moment Dotty was rooted to the spot and strangely her first fear was for Robert. A moving train on an open track would be an easy target from the air, and were the Jerries to drop a bomb on it, the people inside would stand no chance. But then surely they would be targeting the factories?

  As her footsteps slowed, someone suddenly grabbed her elbow and barked, ‘Come wi’ me, love. There’s a shelter just down ’ere as will ’ouse at least a hundred people.’

  Dotty made to pull away as panic engulfed her, but the man hauled her along as if she weighed no more than a feather and soon he was shoving her ahead of him into a dimly lit space that seemed to be full to overflowing with terrified people all talking and crying.

  As Dotty’s eyes adjusted to the light she saw a young woman with a baby clutched tightly to her chest with tears streaming down her cheeks. There were people of all shapes, sizes and ages, but fear was on all their faces. The siren seemed to rip through every part of her, setting her nerves jangling – but then suddenly another noise sounded and leaning forward she stared up into the sky to see a large dark mass fast approaching high above. For a start it appeared like an enormous swarm of bumblebees, but as it drew closer the drone became louder and she saw that it was enemy planes.

  ‘Shut the door, for Christ’s sake,’ someone shouted from the back of the shelter and instantly two men leaped forward and there was a loud clang as the metal door slammed shut. Every sound was magnified as Dotty found herself in total darkness and she put her hands out wildly until they connected with another person. Then someone started to light some candles and suddenly the darkness was not quite so all-consuming. At the same instant, the ack-ack guns roared into life as they tried to intercept the enemy. Dotty clapped her hands over her ears and shrank against the wall as she prayed for the raid to end. And yet deep down she wondered if this was only the beginning.

  Chapter Twenty

  Time became irrelevant as the people in the shelter sat whitefaced, wondering if they would ever get out of there in one piece. And if they did, what would they be going out to? Would their homes still be standing, their loved ones still alive?

  And then the sound of an enormous explosion reached them, followed shortly by another and then another.

  No one could have any idea what was being targeted, but one man muttered, ‘God help us, some poor buggers are coppin’ it.’

  ‘Looks like it’s our turn now,’ someone else said fearfully. ‘They must be givin’ them poor sods in London a night off.’

  Dotty wrapped her arms about herself as her thoughts returned to Robert. London had been under attack for weeks and she worried about him every single day, although up to now the Germans had been targeting the docks and the East End. The first wave of bombs had hit the Royal Victoria Docks, and soon after the East and West India Docks had become prey to the Messerschmitts and Heinkels that had now become a far too familiar sight in the skies above London. Madame Tussaud’s had also been destroyed. The Tower of London had been hit, though not too badly, and some of the West End shops had also suffered damage. She wondered what Robert would be going home to.

  There was nothing to be heard within the sanctuary; everyone was holding their breath, and as they stood huddled there in the semi-darkness, two more explosions sounded. And then the roar of the planes could be heard again as they turned from wherever they had been bombing and flew back directly over them. The roar became a drone before fading to a distant buzz, then dying away altogether.

  ‘Do yer reckon they’ve gone?’ A woman’s terrified voice broke the silence but for a while no one answered.

  And then someone said, ‘Do yer think it’s safe to go back out there yet?’

  ‘Not until the all-clear sounds,’ someone else warned. ‘They might come back again.’

  The woman clutching the baby began to cry, yet strangely the child was silent; he had fallen fast asleep impervious to the danger they were all in.

  And then at last the sound they had all been waiting for came and two men wrestled to pull the heavy metal doors open. It was growing dusk by now but even so, the dim light that flooded the shelter was the most welcome sight that Dotty had ever seen.

  They staggered out into the cooling evening and looked about, then someone said, ‘Over there – look. Seems they’ve hit Ansty Aerodrome from the direction o’ the smoke.’

  In the distance a great pall of smoke was rising into the sky like some ugly great giant, but thankfully, the area around them appeared to be untouched.

  People began to drift away, intent on getting home in case the Germans should return. Dotty stood for a time silently staring at the smoke in the distance and then she too set off, her shaking legs barely able to take her weight. She headed for the bus station, relieved to see that this, too, was untouched, and soon after she boarded the bus.

  When her home came into sight, Dotty rushed towards it and as she climbed the stairs Mrs Cousins came out to meet her on the landing.

  ‘Oh love, I’m so pleased to see yer,’ she babbled. ‘It says on the wireless that the bastards ’ave bombed Ansty Aerodrome, but no one’s said if anyone was hurt yet.’

  ‘I can’t see how there couldn’t have been any casualties,’ Dotty answered sombrely. ‘I got dragged into the shelter up by the station, but even from there we all clearly heard five explosions. Are the children all right?’

  ‘They’re all fine. Thankfully the oldest two were fast asleep an’ the little ’un is too young to understand what was happenin’.’

  ‘But didn’t you get them all down into the cellar?’ Dotty asked.

  Mrs Cousins shook her head. ‘No, I didn’t. If I’d woken ’em up they’d ’ave been terrified so I decided to risk it an’ stay where we were.’

  ‘But you wouldn’t have stood a chance up here,’ Dotty pointed out and Mrs Cousins shrugged.

  ‘At least we’d ’ave all gone together,’ she muttered. ‘The older two won’t be around fer much longer anyway. I’ve agreed they can go wi’ the next lot of evacuees, then I’ll only ’ave the little ’un to worry about.’

  ‘It might be wise,’ Dotty agreed, but she felt so sad for the woman. She’d already lost her husband and soon she would be losing two of her children too, for a time at least.

  She had been at home for less than an hour when she heard someone clattering up the stairs and Miss Timms burst into the room without knocking. Dotty had been so shaken up that she had forgotten to lock the door.

  ‘Oh thank God you’re all right,’ the woman croaked breathlessly when she saw Dotty. ‘I was so worried that something might have happened to you. I’ve left Mother
with a neighbour while I came to check.’

  The woman was red in the face and breathless and Dotty led her to a chair before fetching her a drink of water. She was deeply touched that Miss Timms had been so concerned about her.

  ‘I’m fine, as you can see,’ she assured her, ‘although I have to say when the siren went off it nearly scared me to death. I’d just seen Robert off at the railway station and started for home when it happened, but some man dragged me into a shelter and I stayed there until the all-clear sounded.’

  Miss Timms gulped at the water and nodded, then was instantly on her feet again. ‘Well, I can’t stay, dear. The sirens shook Mother up too and I don’t want to leave her alone for too long. But promise me that if this happens again, you’ll take shelter.’

  ‘Of course I will.’ Dotty saw her to the door where she kissed her on the cheek, deciding she would give it another couple of hours and then she would walk to the phone box and ring Robert just to make sure that he had arrived home safely. The day had been perfect until the sirens sounded – which just went to show that you never knew what life had in store for you.

  *

  ‘I went into Mrs P’s Anderson shelter,’ Lucy told them the next morning at work.

  ‘And Mother and I went down into the cellar.’ Annabelle shuddered at the thought of it. She had been so confident that the raids would never reach them, but she wasn’t so cocky now. ‘It was horrible,’ she groaned. ‘And so cold. It was lucky that Mother had remembered to take blankets down there. You don’t think it will happen again, do you?’

  ‘I think we should prepare ourselves just in case,’ Lucy said quietly. Just over an hour ago the staff had been called together and told by the manager that should the sirens go off during work hours, they were all to make their way down into the basement in an orderly manner. ‘No running or panicking the customers, mind,’ he had warned them.

  ‘As if we wouldn’t panic,’ Lucy had scoffed behind her hand to the other two. ‘I reckon there’d be a right scramble, customers and staff alike.’

  Mr Bradley had posted signs around the shop telling customers where to go in case of a raid.

  ‘I don’t mind admitting I nearly wet myself when the siren went off,’ Lucy told the others. ‘I thought it was a false alarm at first until I heard the planes overhead and then I was off around to Mrs P’s like a shot from a gun.’

  Suddenly what they had all dreaded was a reality and there was no getting away from it any more.

  ‘It wouldn’t do us much good down in the basement anyway,’ Annabelle grumbled. ‘Not if the store took a direct hit. There’d be mountains of rubbish on top of us and they’d never dig us out.’

  ‘It’s amazing that no one was killed at the aerodrome,’ Dotty agreed. ‘But I do think that now they’ve been once, the German planes will come again. It said on the wireless this morning that they think they’ll target the factories next.’ They all looked at each other glumly knowing there was nothing at all anyone could do to stop it now. The Phoney War had become all too real.

  The next raid happened the following evening.

  Lucy and Dotty had accepted Annabelle’s invitation to go to tea, but they had barely set foot in the door after a long day at work when the sirens screamed into life.

  ‘Each of you grab some food off the table and follow me down to the cellar,’ Miranda told them as calmly as she could, and the girls quickly did as they were told. Dotty picked up a large bowl of salad and a plate of bread scraped with margarine, whilst Lucy lifted up the tray with the tea things on it and Annabelle picked up a plate of thinly sliced brawn and pickled beetroot.

  Miranda threw open the door at the far end of the kitchen and one by one they climbed down the steps into the dark cellar. The walls were damp and the place was dismal despite Miranda’s best efforts to make it comfortable.

  ‘There are only two chairs down here,’ she shouted above the screech of the sirens. ‘But there are some crates over there we can sit on. Come on, we may as well eat. There’s nothing else we can do.’

  And then they heard it, the slow buzz of the enemy aircraft approaching followed by the sound of the ack-ack guns firing into life. They all glanced up at the ceiling fearfully as the buzz became a drone and then a snarl.

  ‘They must be directly above us now,’ Miranda whispered as she made the sign of the cross on her chest. The sound slowly subsided, followed by the bang of the first explosion and they all jumped. Then there was another and another, and Annabelle panicked and clasped her hands over her ears to try and shut out the noise.

  ‘It’s all right, darling,’ her mother comforted her as she pressed her close. ‘We’ll be quite safe in here.’

  Within minutes they all realised that this was far worse than the first raid. The explosions seemed to go on forever and they sounded so close that the four women had no idea where the bombs might be falling. The food lay on an upturned crate untouched; everyone seemed to have lost their appetites although Miranda did manage to pour them all some tea and urged them to drink it. ‘It will warm you up,’ she told them and they each did as she asked.

  ‘What time do you think it is?’ Annabelle asked in a small voice after what felt like an eternity. The sounds of the enemy planes flying over them were so loud that they were sure they would crash into the roof of the house.

  ‘I don’t know, but I’ve got some candles somewhere.’ Miranda stood and began to rummage about until she found them. She quickly lit one with a box of matches she had ready beside them. A flicker of light illuminated their pale faces as the wick began to burn and Miranda gave them all a wobbly smile.

  ‘There. That’s better, isn’t it?’ But they could barely hear her for the planes growling overhead.

  The candle slowly burned down and soon they had lost all sense of time as they crouched there wondering what they were going to come out of the cellar to – if they ever came out, that was. Dotty dropped into an exhausted doze and Miranda rose to find another candle. It was as she was lighting it that the tumult outside began to quieten down and she said hopefully, ‘Listen . . . I think they’ve gone.’

  But they sat on until at last they heard the all-clear.

  Dotty woke and one by one they climbed the steep cellar steps. It was dark when they entered the kitchen and Miranda hurried to the window and closed the blackout curtains before switching the light on.

  ‘Let’s see if there’s anything on the wireless,’ she suggested as she twiddled the knob. It crackled into life and soon the announcer’s grave voice reached them.

  ‘The Hillfields area of Coventry was heavily bombed tonight, but as yet no one can say how many fatalities there have been. The Army are digging people from the rubble of what were their homes, and it is feared that many lives have been lost. Meantime, those whose homes have been damaged are asked to report to their nearest church hall where they will be provided with food and temporary shelter.’

  Dotty clapped her hand over her mouth as they looked towards her and without a word being said they were all thinking the same thing. Would her home still be standing?

  Miranda snapped to attention at the sound of ambulance bells and fire engines clanging past the end of the drive.

  ‘I must go,’ she said, reaching for her coat. ‘I’m off to Hillfields. The WVS will need all the help they can get, but I want you all to promise me that you will stay here. I don’t want you two girls trying to get home tonight, and if the siren goes off again you are to head straight back down into the cellar. Will you promise me that you’ll do that?’

  ‘But how will you get there?’ Annabelle asked. ‘I doubt there will be any buses running.’

  ‘In the car, of course. I’ve saved some cans of petrol in the garage so I have some at hand for emergencies.’

  ‘I’m coming with you,’ Dotty stated with determination.

  ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea, love,’ Miranda told the distraught girl. ‘Why don’t you let me go first and see how bad thi
ngs are? I can check that your house is still intact. You’ll be quite safe here.’

  ‘You don’t understand!’ Dotty said urgently as she grabbed her coat. ‘I don’t care about the house – that’s just bricks and mortar – but what about Mrs Cousins and her children? They’re my neighbours and I have to know that they’re all right.’

  ‘In that case we’ll come too,’ Lucy piped up. ‘Won’t we, Annabelle? There might be something we can do to help as well.’

  Miranda looked decidedly unhappy about the suggestion but it was three against one and she saw no point in arguing.

  ‘Very well then,’ she reluctantly agreed and the girls followed her out to the garage.

  As they approached Hillfields they felt as if they were driving into a nightmare. Thick black smoke and flames were belching into the sky from what only hours before had been people’s homes, and the police had set up road-blocks to prevent traffic from entering the bombed area.

  ‘We shall have to park here and walk the rest of the way,’ Miranda told them as she pulled into the side of the road. ‘The WVS will have set up food and shelter for those that need it in the church hall in the next street. I’m sure they’ll be glad of as much help as they can get.’

  They all clambered out of the car and made their way on foot into the chaos. Army lorries were parked higgledy-piggledy, and they could see the men digging frantically in the rubble for survivors.

  ‘Over here, I thought I heard something!’ one young private shouted, and the other men raced towards him to help.

  Appalled, Dotty stared at the pile of bricks, certain that no one could survive if that lot had toppled on them, but the men worked furiously, determined to get to anyone who might still be alive.