Daisy's War

by Roberta Grieve

  She glanced across the table at her father who had paused with his fork to his mouth. He put it down and leaned across to turn the wireless up. ‘Another ship gone down, bloody u-boats,’ he muttered.

  Daisy waited for her mother to reprimand him, but she just shook her head and carried on eating.

  When the meal was finished, she helped Dora to clear away and wash up, then went up to her room to fetch her mending. She looked around the little room she had shared with her sister for so long and realised with a pang that she actually missed Sylvia, despite her bossiness and untidy ways. Would things ever go back to normal? They had been at war for less than a year, but it seemed like forever. It was hard to picture what life might be like after the war – if it ever finished.

  Shaking off her gloomy thoughts, she decided to write to Sylvia. But she wouldn’t tell her that Roland was going out with Lily as well as kissing another girl in the cinema, not to mention flirting with June. He certainly fancied himself as a ladies’ man and Daisy could only hope that Sylvia hadn’t been too serious about him.

  After darning her stockings and sewing on a loose button, Daisy started her letter, but she couldn’t think what to say. In the end she just wrote a short note saying that the family were all busy ‘doing their bit’ and telling her about her morning on the allotment with Dad. She finished by sending her love and urging her to write soon.

  As she sealed the envelope, she wondered if Sylvia would agree that she was really doing her bit. Serving tea and cakes to servicemen surely didn’t compare with being in the WAAFs. But it was what she chose to do, and she had to admit she was happy with her job. It was just her love life making her depressed. That and worry over her friend’s and her sister’s love lives.

  She sighed and went downstairs. What a way to spend a day off, she thought. Back to work tomorrow and that brought another unwelcome thought. She had tried to put it out of her mind, but several small incidents convinced her that something wasn’t right at work. But who could she confide in? And suppose she was wrong? She didn’t like Harold Tompkins very much, but she didn’t want to get him into trouble. Besides, he might not be the one to blame.

  ***

  It was so hot in the NAAFI kitchen and Daisy was fed up. She was on washing up duty today and on top of that, Mrs Green was in a bad mood and kept finding fault with her and Lily. They couldn’t seem to do anything right.

  ‘What’s up with her,’ Lily whispered as she plonked a tray full of dirty dishes onto the draining board. ‘She’s just told me off for dropping a spoon.’

  ‘I don’t know. I try to keep out of her way when she’s like this.’ The door opened and Lily hurried back into the canteen while Daisy hastily resumed scrubbing at a saucepan with burnt on gravy.

  Mrs Green slammed the door and Daisy watched out of the corner of her eye as she stalked across to the Cook Sergeant.

  ‘Sergeant Shiner. I’ve been getting complaints,’ she snapped.

  ‘Not about my cooking you haven’t,’ he answered.

  Daisy smiled. He was so proud of his chef status, always boasting that he had worked at the top hotels before joining the Army. Probably just a kitchen skivvy, she thought. But, she had to admit, he was a good cook. So what was the supervisor on about?

  ‘That gravy was disgusting,’ Mrs Green was saying. ‘And I agree with the men. I tasted it myself.’

  ‘Oh, that Tompkins. I’ll have his hide - the little toerag.’ Sergeant Shiner was practically foaming at the mouth. ‘I told him to chuck it out and make a fresh batch. Lazy little sod.’

  ‘Where is he now? Skived off for a cigarette, I suppose.’

  ’My staff don’t skive off. I sent him over to the stores.’ The sergeant looked at the clock on the wall. ‘Still, he should’ve been back by now.’

  Mrs Green turned to Daisy, who had finished her washing up but, not wishing to draw attention to herself, lingered over wiping down the draining boards. ‘You, girl, go over to the stores and tell Private Tompkins he’s wanted. I’ll have a word with him myself. It’s not good enough.’

  Daisy nodded and rushed out the door. Poor Harold. She wouldn’t want to be in shoes.

  She ran over to the stores and almost bumped into Harold as he pushed open the door, carrying a large box.

  ‘Oops, sorry, Daisy,’ he said hefting the box in one arm and opening the door of a van parked nearby.

  ‘What are you doing, Harold? Sergeant Shiner is in a real temper, so is Mrs Green. You’ve been gone ages and they sent me to fetch you.’

  ‘I’m just...’ Harold stammered.

  ‘Just what?’

  ‘Nothing to do with you, miss. Get back to your work.’ Sid Browning came out of the store room and glared at her. ‘You, Tompkins, put that in the van and get back to the kitchen. Tell Sergeant Shiner I detained you.’ He went back into the stores and Harold and Daisy started to walk away.

  ‘Is he really mad at me?’ Harold asked.

  Daisy nodded. ‘So is Mrs Green.’

  ‘The gravy, I suppose. It wasn’t my fault.’

  ‘Tell that to them.’ Daisy started to walk away. He always tried to blame someone else when things went wrong. ‘Come on then, go and face the music,’ she said.

  Harold stopped suddenly, his hand over his mouth. ‘Oh, blast. I’ve forgotten what I came for.’ He hurried back inside the stores and came out carrying a sack of carrots.

  ‘What was Mr Browning doing?’ Daisy was curious. She had spotted several boxes in the back of the van.

  ‘Taking stuff up to the RAF place at Eastchurch. He asked me to help load up.’

  It sounded plausible but, as Daisy went back to work, she couldn’t help thinking about the other times she had seen the manager in the stores and remembered the discrepancy she had noticed in the number of cigarette cartons. Perhaps Harold was involved as well. Should she tell someone of her suspicions, she wondered once again. But the answer was the same – who could she tell? Who could she trust?

  Chapter Fourteen

  France had fallen and the place was swarming with Germans. How much longer could Bob stay hidden in the church crypt? He should have insisted on leaving. Better to be captured again and spend the rest of the war in a prison camp than skulk here, putting Father Etienne and others who were helping him in danger.

  The priest had been very good to him, as had the few remaining villagers. The Germans were everywhere, and Bob knew they were risking their lives giving him shelter. He made up his mind that he would go that night. If he kept under cover, he might be able to make it back to the coast. He just hoped all the boats hadn’t left.

  He started up as the door to the crypt opened and Father Etienne came in, bringing water, bread and a small piece of cheese. ‘It’s all we can spare, my friend,’ he said. ‘The Germans have taken most of our food.’

  ‘I’ll go then. I can’t expect you to keep feeding me. Besides, I’m putting all of you in danger.’

  ‘It’s too dangerous for you to leave. Where will you go?’

  ‘I’ll make my way to the coast, travel at night, keep under cover. I’ll go tonight.’

  ‘Don’t go yet. I have a plan. I’ll come back later and explain. I must go now. It’s time for mass.’

  Bob ate the food, and then lay back on his makeshift bed. He sighed, wondering what the priest had in mind. There was no way he could pass himself off as a Frenchman, although he had learned a few phrases over the past few weeks. He couldn’t imagine how he’d get out of this hole. He just wanted to get back to Daisy, back to his unit. He was sure he’d have been posted as a deserter by now, especially as he’d had a chance to get on one of the boats like his mates.

  When Father Etienne returned, Bob had made up his mind that he would go it alone and not involve the kindly priest and his parishioners. But before he could speak, he realised there was someone behind the priest.

  The young man awkwardly made his way down the steps into the crypt and lowered himself on to the bed, gasping with
pain. His leg was bandaged, his foot was bent at an angle.

  ‘This is Albert.’ Father Etienne gestured to the wounded leg. ‘A farm accident - that is why he is still here. The Germans took all the other young men to labour camps.’

  Bob shook the young man’s hand. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘No need to be sorry. At least he’s still here.’ The priest sighed. ‘Who knows what has happened to the others? They said they were being sent to Germany to work out....’ He shrugged.

  ‘Why’s he here?’ Bob asked. ‘Is he in hiding too?’

  ‘Oh, no. He is part of the plan.’ Father Etienne laughed. ‘We are going to Saint Simon; it is a village near Amiens.’

  Bob’s heart leapt. That was the place Francoise had mentioned. Had she managed to get there? Would he see her again? He thrust the thought from his mind. He shouldn’t be thinking about her. ‘How will we get there?’ he asked.

  ‘Tomorrow is the Feast of St Anne. I have permission to take some of my flock to the shrine there – to pray for healing and strength.’

  ‘Will we get away with it?’ Bob’s heart was racing. He was elated yet scared.

  ‘You will wear the robes of a priest. If we are questioned, I will say that you have taken a vow of silence. You will help Albert as we shall have to walk. All our vehicles have been commandeered.’

  It seemed risky to Bob but anything was better than sitting in this dark crypt fearing discovery at any moment. He thanked both men and sprang up to help Albert to stand. The priest turned at the door and said, ‘Sleep well, my son, and be up early tomorrow. God be with you.’

  ***

  The church was ablaze with candles as each supplicant made their way to the shrine to light another and say a prayer. Bob shuffled forward, supporting Albert whose limp became more pronounced on the long journey. It had been uncomfortable walking in the hot sun wearing the cumbersome priest’s robe.

  They were stopped only once as they entered the town and the German guard had peered suspiciously at him. He bowed his head as Father Etienne showed his pass and spoke rapidly to the soldier, indicating Albert’s bandaged foot. At last the guard nodded and let the small party through.

  Bob took his turn to light a candle and said a small prayer for Daisy and his family. He had never been inside a Catholic church and he gazed in awe at the statues and ornate carvings. A nudge from Father Etienne made him quickly bow his head.

  As the long service proceeded, Bob’s mind began to wander again. The priest had told him he would have to stay in the town until arrangements could be made to move him on. So many people were willing to put themselves in danger to help him. How could he ever thank them?

  Another nudge from Father Etienne and he stood for a hymn. The singing swelled around him and his heart swelled with it. All too soon the hymn ended and, after a last prayer, the congregation started to shuffle out of the church.

  As they neared the door, he saw a young woman standing in the porch. Was it Francoise? He hadn’t seen her in the church and he started forward. She recognised him and a smile crossed her face. A pull at his arm stopped him in his tracks. ‘Careful,’ Father Etienne whispered.

  A German sergeant stood at the church door scrutinising each person as they left. Bob folded his hands in his sleeves and walked past with bent head. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Francoise speaking to the sergeant. A cold finger of fear touched his spine. Was he about to be betrayed? He couldn’t – wouldn’t - believe it.

  He took Albert’s arm and hurried outside, passing the soldier and the girl without a glance.

  When they were some distance from the church, the little party stopped and Albert sat on a low stone wall.

  Bob was about to demand an explanation for Francoise’s presence in the church, but the priest held up a hand. ‘I should have warned you,’ he said. ‘Don’t worry, Francoise is on our side. She was chatting to the soldier to distract him.’

  Bob sighed with relief. She had helped him before and he was sure she wouldn’t betray him now, but who knew what a conquered people could be driven to?

  ‘Now then, Bob. Listen to me. We must leave you now and return to our village. Our prayers go with you. Take off the robe and give it to Pierre,’ the priest said.

  Bob felt a moment of panic. Were they just going to leave him here? But Father Etienne smiled. ‘Two priests left the village and two must return.’ He pointed down a narrow lane that led off the main street.

  ‘Three doors down, the cottage with blue shutters. Knock twice. They will look after you.’ He shook Bob’s hand. ‘God bless you, my son.’

  Bob watched until they were out of sight and then started down the lane towards the house the priest indicated.

  ***

  After the slight lull following the Dunkirk evacuation, the war began to impinge on the people of the Island when enemy planes were spotted making their way to London. Sheppey lay right in the path of the bombers and the soldiers manning the anti-aircraft guns long the coast were on constant alert.

  ‘Looks like they’re trying to soften us up before they invade,’ Daisy’s father said.

  ‘Don’t, Stan. I don’t want to hear you going on about it.’ Dora picked up her knitting and did a few rows, her needles flying and her lips tight.

  Daisy thought Dad was right, but like her mum she tried not to think about it too much.

  ‘They’re targeting merchant ships in the Channel now,’ he said. The attacks had been going on for a month now.

  Dora looked up from her knitting. ‘I suppose that’s why there’s nothing in the shops. I went along to the grocer’s this morning and they didn’t have half what I wanted. I thought rationing meant we would at least have something.’

  ‘It’s not just ships. What about the airfields?’ Stan went on.

  Daisy couldn’t help thinking about Roland and that Polish chap, Stefan, up at Eastchurch. Much as she disliked Roland, she hoped he was safe, if only for Lily’s sake.

  She kept quiet and concentrated on her mending. She wished now she’d gone to the pictures with Lily and June, but she hadn’t been able to face an evening of Lily going on about how wonderful Roland was. It was becoming harder to hold her tongue and not let on what she knew about him.

  She finished sewing on a button and stood up to put her things away. ‘I’m off to bed, Mum. Early start in the morning. Night, Dad.’

  As she went up the stairs, she thought about what they’d heard on the news. She wished her father didn’t pay so much attention to it, not that they told you much, trying to put a good face on things. But he picked up a lot of information at the anti-aircraft gun emplacements on the sea wall and along the canal bank. The LDV, who had recently changed their name to the Home Guard, were supplementing the army lads, most of whom had now been sent abroad – Africa, Dad said, although what they were doing in Africa, Daisy had no idea. Wasn’t it Italy who had now declared war?

  Now that most of the soldiers had left the garrison, they weren’t quite so busy in the NAAFI these days. Christopher was still here though, and Daisy looked forward to seeing him on the rare occasions he popped in. She wasn’t being disloyal to Bob, she told herself. She still worried about him and prayed for his safety every night. But Chris cheered her up with his lovely smile and why shouldn’t she enjoy his obvious admiration for her?

  ***

  ‘Did you enjoy the film last night?’ Daisy asked June during a lull between customers.

  ‘It was smashing. I do love Anton Walbrook. He was good in this one. You should have come with us.’

  ‘I had a lot to do at home. I have to help out now Mum spends so much time with the WVS.’

  ‘Well, Gaslight’s on till the end of the week.’

  ‘Perhaps I’ll go later on then.’

  ‘Lily was supposed to be minding her little brother and sisters, but she had a row with her Mum and sloped off. She said she deserved a night off.’ June laughed. ‘She was hoping to see Roland but he was on duty, so she had to ma
ke do with me.’

  ‘Is she all right? She’s been a bit down lately.’

  ‘Pining for her handsome officer,’ June said. ‘She hasn’t seen him for a while.’

  ‘I hope he’s not messing her about,’ Daisy said. ‘She’s so in love with him.’

  ‘I don’t think it’s that. She hasn’t seen him for ages. With these raids on the airfield, he’s on duty most of the time. And she’s terrified something will happen to him now that the Germans are over every day.’

  ‘My dad says they’re trying to wipe out the RAF to make it easier to invade.’

  June shuddered. ‘Doesn’t bear thinking of – Germans marching up our High Street.’

  Daisy didn’t get a chance to reply as Mrs Green swept in, eyes blazing. ‘What are you two doing, lazing around gossiping? There’s tables to be cleared, dishes to wash and I’ve just sent Lily home. She’s not well so you’ll have to do her work as well. Come on, get to it.’

  ‘She was OK last night and she didn’t say anything this morning,’ June whispered as they scurried to do the supervisor’s bidding.

  ‘I’ll pop in on my way home,’ Daisy said. ‘See if she’s OK.’

  ***

  Daisy had only been to Lily’s house once before and she hoped she could find her way through the maze of alleys and courts which made up the area of wooden cottages between Hope Street and Russell Street.

  It was starting to get dark by the time she knocked on Lily’s front door. When her friend opened it, she was shocked at the change in her. Her face was pale, her hair straggly, and there were dark rings under her eyes.

  ‘Oh, Daisy, it’s you. Did Mrs Green send you?’

  ‘She said you weren’t well. What’s wrong, Lily?’

  ‘I felt a bit faint that’s all, the heat in the kitchen. Don’t know why she sent me home. I’m all right now.’

  ‘You don’t look all right. Can I come in?’