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The Uncertain Years

Page 11

by Beryl Matthews


  ‘Gosh, Alice!’ Becky exclaimed. ‘You’ve deduced that from one meeting? What about my brother?’

  ‘He’s the quietest of the three, but he’s the most determined, and nothing is going to stop him from making his mark in life. He’s going to do whatever he sets his mind to, and woe betide anyone who stands in his way.’

  Becky turned and faced her friend, amazed by her evaluation of the boys. ‘Will’s always felt he had to prove himself capable of doing what everyone else does, but you’ve just described a very ambitious man.’

  ‘That’s what he is.’

  ‘Well I never!’ Becky sat back. ‘If you’re right then I really don’t know them as well as I thought I did. And I’d never have said my brother wanted to make a name for himself.’

  ‘Then you’ve underestimated him.’

  ‘Hmm, well, only time will tell if you’re right.’ She still wasn’t convinced. ‘Have you always had this talent for summing up people?’

  ‘I suppose so. Anticipating what people want is what makes me good at my job.’ Alice smiled with satisfaction. ‘I had you marked out as a good friend the moment I saw you.’

  ‘And is this ability going to help you work up to a general?’ Becky teased.

  ‘After everything that’s happened, that doesn’t seem important now, does it?’

  ‘No, it doesn’t.’

  Both girls were serious now, and finished the rest of the journey chatting about nothing in particular with Pete.

  This brutal conflict had certainly changed their perspective on life. None of them were going to come out of this the same people they had been at the beginning.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Everyone had gone to bed leaving the three boys downstairs to enjoy a quiet beer together.

  ‘I’m glad that’s over.’ Jim lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply, blowing the smoke out on a sigh. ‘I knew London was taking a bashing, but I never imagined my parents would be killed. It’s something you always think will happen to other people, but never you. I was so angry. They were good people and didn’t deserve an end like that.’

  ‘No, they didn’t.’ Will refilled the glasses. ‘This is turning out to be a very bloody war. The loss of innocent lives is appalling, and it’s only going to get worse.’

  ‘It certainly is.’ Bob downed his beer without stopping. ‘The convoys are suffering terrible losses, and it makes you feel sick when you hear another explosion. The first time it happened and I saw those poor sods in the sea it tore me apart. I’m learning to deal with it in a hurry, because that’s the only way I’m going to keep my sanity.’

  ‘What have you been up to, Jim?’ Will handed him a sandwich his mother had made for them to have with their beer. ‘You didn’t get that brown in this country. And I thought you were in the paratroopers?’

  ‘I’m on temporary assignment to another regiment.’

  ‘And you’ve been in a hot climate?’ Bob probed, just as curious as Will.

  ‘Hmm,’ was all Jim said.

  ‘Come on, Jim, you can tell us,’ Bob urged.

  ‘I bet I can tell you what our friend’s up to, Bob. I’d say he’s in the desert working with a special unit causing havoc on the enemy whenever they can.’

  ‘Ah, that makes sense.’ Bob leant forward, his gaze fixed on Jim. ‘How close is he to the truth?’

  ‘You know I can’t talk about it. All I’m prepared to say is that Will is far too perceptive.’

  ‘Aha!’ Will looked smug. ‘That proves I’ve guessed correctly.’

  ‘You put that in one of your reports and you’ll be in real trouble.’

  ‘I’m not daft, Jim. My job is to report on aspects of the war that will inform, and hopefully lift the spirit sometimes, not give away secrets.’

  ‘That’s also something I’m curious about,’ Bob said. ‘Just exactly what are you doing, Will?’

  Will was thoughtful for a while, and then his expression became animated. ‘You’ll all find out soon, but before I tell you I want your word you’ll keep this to yourselves until it’s over.’

  ‘Promise,’ Bob and Jim said together.

  ‘I’m going on a bombing raid over Germany. We’re going to make a newsreel to be shown in the cinemas.’

  The boys glared at their friend in astonishment.

  ‘Are you crazy?’ Bob exploded. ‘That’s bloody dangerous.’

  ‘And what you two are doing isn’t dangerous?’

  ‘When are you going?’ Jim asked quietly.

  ‘In three days’ time – weather permitting, of course.’

  ‘Well, for heaven’s sake don’t tell your mum and dad. They’ll be sick with worry. Do you know how to use a parachute?’

  ‘I’ve been on a quick training course, Jim, and have made a couple of jumps out of a balloon.’

  ‘My God!’ Bob handed round cigarettes. ‘We turn our backs, Jim, and he’s up to all kinds of dangerous things. Not satisfied with risking his life in a small boat at Dunkirk, he’s now going to see what it’s like to drop bombs while being shot at. I’m beginning to wonder if any of us are going to survive this war. I’m on the sea being hunted by U-boats, Jim’s doing goodness knows what in the desert, and Will’s about to climb into a bomber. I think we’re all crazy!’

  ‘Haven’t we always been?’ Will actually grinned. ‘And we’re all going to come through this, and when it’s all over we’ll go on a pub crawl around London. The drinks will be on me.’

  ‘Now that’s something we’ll hold you to.’

  The three boys sealed the promise by clinking their glasses together.

  ‘Anyway, we have no choice. We’ve all got to come through this or Becky will never forgive us,’ Bob said dryly. For the first time that day they all laughed.

  ‘Let me check your harness,’ Andy, the navigator of the plane said.

  ‘Thanks.’ Will had needed help with all the flying gear they’d insisted he had to wear for the sake of his safety. He had spent the last two days with the crew he was to fly with. They should have gone last night, but the operation had been cancelled because of the weather. It looked as if it was on tonight, however.

  ‘You’re fine.’ Andy patted him on the shoulder and smirked. ‘Are you going to make heroes of us all?’

  ‘You already are in my book.’ Will was a seething mass of nerves. He didn’t know how they did this night after night, and they were all so young. Their pilot was only twenty-one, and the rest of the crew around that age. It was incredible what this generation was doing.

  ‘Do you get nervous before a raid?’ he asked.

  ‘Nervous?’ Andy shook his head. ‘I would say frightened, or sick to the stomach would be more appropriate words.’

  ‘But not one of you shows it.’

  ‘No point, chum. We always tell ourselves we’ll be the ones to get back. Time to get on board. It’s a long trip, so have you got enough film for your camera?’

  Will took a deep breath and nodded. ‘I’ve got more than enough.’

  ‘You know,’ Andy said, as they climbed in the lorry taking them out to the plane. ‘You’ve got guts. You don’t have to do this.’

  ‘It’s my job. The forces wouldn’t take me, and I couldn’t sit on the sidelines, so I’m putting my reporting skills to good use.’

  ‘So you decided to become a war correspondent.’

  ‘That’s right.’ Will grinned in the fading light of evening. ‘And here I am.’

  The film crew had followed them out to the row of Wellington bombers and captured the scene of men clambering in. Will stopped under a wing and faced the cameras to record his introduction, and then allowed himself to be helped into the plane. From here he was on his own.

  Once the door was closed the engines roared into life, and as they gathered speed for take-off, Will wondered how something as big, and as loaded as this, could get off the ground.

  But it did, and he saw how skilled the young pilots were. Once airborne all his nerves vanished, and h
e revelled in the sensation of flying. He settled down to enjoy the flight while he could, making notes and taking some pictures of the crew as they worked. The sight of the other planes was fascinating, and Will was determined to make this film report the best thing he’d ever done.

  Their destination was Berlin, and that was why Will was on this raid. It was thought that the people at home would be heartened to see that Britain was striking back. He was so intent on capturing every detail that he quite forgot how long they had been in the air. He was jolted back to awareness when all hell broke loose.

  ‘Five minutes to target,’ came a voice over the intercom, and it was the longest five minutes Will could ever remember.

  Suddenly, a searchlight caught them in its glare and the pilot had to turn and weave until they were free of it. One plane slightly in front of them had flames coming from an engine, and another was leaving a trail of smoke in its wake. Flack was all around them, but scared as he was, Will held the camera steady.

  ‘Dear God!’ Will gasped when their plane shook and, looking out anxiously, saw a plane just in front of them going down.

  ‘Hold it … hold it …’ The bomb-aimer spoke clearly and calmly.

  Will held his breath as he filmed the fires burning on the ground. ‘Bombs away!’

  The plane banked and turned for home. As they straightened out there was an ominous crunching sound and the plane lurched.

  Somebody swore, and a member of the crew – Will couldn’t see who it was – was scrambling down the plane to try and see if there was any serious damage. He kept quiet, knowing he mustn’t use the intercom when it might be needed urgently.

  The crew member was soon back, and when he gave Will the thumbs-up, he saw that it was Andy.

  ‘We’ve taken a hit near the tail, Skipper. It doesn’t look too bad. How does she feel?’

  ‘All right, as long as the tail doesn’t fall off.’

  The quiet laughter Will could hear over the intercom brought a lump to his throat, and he knew this was something he would remember for the rest of his life.

  ‘You all right, Will?’ the skipper asked.

  ‘I’m fine, Skipper.’ He addressed him the same way as his crew. He was honoured to have shared this night with them, even if it had been a terrifying experience. Of course, they weren’t back yet, but they were away from the flack.

  ‘We’re a long way from home,’ the skipper continued, ‘so if the damage causes any trouble I want you to obey me without hesitation. If I order you to jump, you get out as quickly as you can. Is that clear?’

  ‘Yes, Skipper.’

  ‘Good.’

  They made it back without mishap, and Will almost shouted for joy as they landed safely.

  The first thing they did was to inspect the damage. There was a hole large enough to put your fist through, and several smaller dents covering quite a large area.

  The skipper nodded. ‘Just shrapnel damage. They’ll soon be able to patch that up.’

  Will used the last of his film on getting a good picture of the damage, then said, ‘I thought from the noise that we’d taken a direct hit.’

  ‘No, you would have been bailing out if we had.’ Andy slapped Will on the back. ‘Go and get some breakfast. We’ll join you as soon as we’ve reported in.’

  Other crews began to wander in while Will waited, and he studied their faces. Some were talking, some were quiet, but when he looked closely he could see the signs of exhaustion. It had been a long, dangerous mission, and these same crews were probably going to do the same thing all over again in a few hours.

  When the crew he’d flown with finally joined him, he braced himself to ask the one question he needed to complete his report. With a notebook open in front of him, and pen poised, he said, ‘I saw one plane go down and another seemed to be in trouble. How many didn’t make it?’

  It was the skipper who answered. ‘Two. One we know bought it over Berlin, but we’re not sure about the other one. They might have landed at another airfield, but that’s doubtful. We should have heard by now if they had.’

  Will concentrated on writing all this down; relieved to know it wasn’t more, though goodness knows, that was bad enough! It was hard to believe any of them had survived. He also noted down his impression of what it was like to see the empty places at the tables already laid out for the incoming crews.

  ‘Have you got all the information you need?’ the skipper asked.

  ‘More than enough.’ Will stood up and shook hands with each of them in turn. ‘Thank you for putting up with me. It has been quite an experience.’

  ‘You’re welcome.’ Andy pumped his hand. ‘You let us know when the newsreel is being shown. We’ll all go to the pictures that day.’

  ‘I’ll see the base gets its own copy, so you can have a private showing.’

  Will walked out to the car waiting to take him back to London, and wondered if any of them would be alive to see themselves on film.

  He really hoped and prayed they were.

  As tired as he was there was a spring in his step. He’d been on a bombing raid over Germany. And he was still alive!

  Chapter Sixteen

  It was only three weeks to Christmas, and Becky couldn’t believe how fast the months were going, but she couldn’t drum up any enthusiasm for the festive season. Nobody knew where the boys were. The Blitz was still going on, and she didn’t feel a bit like celebrating. Everyone wanted passes at Christmas time, and both Alice and herself had been given four days’ leave. It wasn’t like her to be so downhearted, and she told herself to be more positive and count the blessings. For the moment Hitler had abandoned his plans to invade. Against all the odds this island was still holding out, and that was certainly something to be happy and proud about. And it would be lovely to see her parents. It was some time since she’d managed to get home, and she wondered if Will would be there. She knew he would if at all possible.

  She started to sing quietly to herself, her mood lifting quickly, as it usually did. Her mother had always told her to count her blessings if she was ever depressed, and it was sound advice, for it always worked. Yes, going home for the holiday was something to look forward to, and now she’d see if any letters had arrived for her.

  There were five, and she hurried to find a quiet spot to read them.

  For the next few minutes she chuckled as she read amusing letters from her parents – they always wrote separately so she received more letters. The next two were from Will and Bob. She slit open the next one without looking at the handwriting, expecting it to be from Jim. Much to her surprise it was from David’s parents, asking if it would be possible for her to visit them before Christmas.

  Knowing this was going to be a difficult time for them, she was determined to find the time. David was now listed as ‘Missing, presumed dead’ by the War Office, and it was terrible to realise that they might never know what had happened to him.

  Not one to waste time, Becky went at once to see when she could leave the camp for a few hours. And then something must be found to put under the tree for Sara. The little girl needed cheering up because she had been told about her father and was naturally heartbroken.

  Becky was pleased she had given Sara the doll because it would have been lost when bombs had destroyed their house. The destruction had been so complete it hadn’t been possible to salvage anything, and her parents had just walked away. She knew it had broken their hearts to lose everything they had lovingly gathered together over the years, but she had never once heard them complain.

  The next day she was knocking on the door of the lovely house in Frimley, a small present tucked safely out of sight in her bag for Sara. There hadn’t been time to find the little girl something, so she was giving her a silver charm bracelet. It had been a gift from her parents on her fourteenth birthday, but she was sure they wouldn’t mind. It was the only suitable thing Becky had left. It would be too big for Sara, but she would grow into it, and hopefully, it would give her
pleasure looking at the various charms.

  ‘Rebecca!’ Mrs Hammond opened the door herself, smiling with pleasure. ‘We are so glad you’ve come. Come in and get warm.’

  She stepped inside and waited for Mrs Hammond to close the door. ‘I’m sorry to come without giving you notice, but this was the only time I could get off.’

  ‘Don’t apologise, Rebecca. You are welcome in this house anytime you feel like it.’

  ‘That is very kind of you.’ She held out the brightly wrapped parcel. ‘That’s a small present for Sara. I didn’t know what to give her, but I think she’ll like that.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sure she’ll be delighted.’ Mrs Hammond popped the package in the hall cupboard. ‘We’ll put that under the tree for her to open on Christmas Day.’

  ‘I’m sorry I had to come in uniform, Mrs Hammond, but these are the warmest clothes I have now. I hope it isn’t going to upset Sara.’

  ‘Don’t worry about it, Rebecca, we do understand.’

  Becky breathed a sigh of relief. The last thing she wanted to do was upset them at this difficult time, but all she had at the camp were summer clothes.

  There was a lovely wood fire burning in the lounge, and the room felt warm and welcoming. A large Christmas tree was in the corner and covered in decorations. The rest of the room was also decorated with streamers and holly. Becky’s heart went out to this family when she saw how determined they were to make it a bright Christmas.

  The only person in the room was Mr Hammond, and he rose to greet her, smiling broadly. ‘Ah, you’ve made it. It’s good of you to come so quickly, Rebecca.’

  David looked so like his father that it always gave Becky a jolt when she saw him. She hardly had time to shake hands when the door burst open and the dog threw herself at Becky, nearly knocking her off her feet.

 

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