by Anne Bennett
Barry nodded his head. ‘Yes I think you’re right.’
‘So while there’s no harm in asking her along, and you never know, she might surprise us one day, but if she says no then we have to accept that she prefers being left behind,’ Angela said. ‘And knowing Mammy as I do, the last thing she would want would be us wasting the day worrying and fretting over her, so let’s set out to enjoy ourselves. And she’s always keen to know what we’ve done and where we’ve been isn’t she?’
And enjoy themselves they did. Sometimes they went to nearby Calthorpe Park, or Cannon Hill a little further away, or they visited the Botanical Gardens or walked down to the canal to see the brightly painted barges pass, or they’d go for a dander down the Bull Ring, always a colourful place with lots going on while the constant banter between the barrow boys and potential customers and between the barrow boys themselves always made Angela smile.
Returning from an outing to Calthorpe Park one day Angela said, ‘D’you think Connie would appreciate a tea party for her birthday next week?’
‘I think she’d love it, but who would you invite?’ Barry asked.
‘Well as she’s only a year old she hasn’t a wide circle of friends just yet,’ Angela commented drily. ‘But there will be us, and I’m sure Maggie and Stan would like to be asked, and it falls on Sunday so it couldn’t be better. And there will be a cake and a candle, though one of us will have to blow that out this year at least, and lots of little cakes and fancies and presents. What else does a twelve-month-old child want or need?’
So the party was planned for the following Sunday and during that week Angela bought a pram second-hand for the rag doll she knew Maggie was buying and Mary made a mattress and little blankets for the pram. However the best present of all was brought up from the cellar by Barry. He had been working every night that week and he had made a rocking horse, which he had painted white and red. It was an incredibly beautiful horse and Connie’s eyes opened wide in surprise and delight. She had stood up holding on to the guard and she suddenly loosed hold of it and set off walking, on her own, across the room towards the rocking horse. She only managed half-way before collapsing and made the rest of the way on her hands and knees, but Angela knew her baby girl was on her way and though she knew she would have to develop eyes in the back of her head, her heart rejoiced.
Less than a week later Stan called Barry into the office. ‘I wanted to sound you out,’ he said. ‘Just so you know, if the balloon goes up I’m enlisting.’
‘Balloon goes up, what you talking about?’
‘If war is declared.’
‘You said this before and nothing happened,’ Barry said. ‘You sure you’re not just scaremongering? I mean, I agree that those Europeans seem a fiery lot and they have spats all the time and get over them. We rightly don’t get involved in what is really their own business, so why should we get involved now?’
‘I think we will be dragged into it this time, that’s all,’ Stan said. ‘The government can’t see what’s staring them in the face. All their energies seem directed on stopping the Irish killing one another.’
‘Look Stan, I can’t leave Angela, my mother and baby daughter to fend for themselves and join in a war I have no interest in.’
‘You don’t have to,’ Stan said. ‘I will and you can take my place in the factory. I have put in good reports about your work over the years and I will recommend you. They take more notice of my opinion now. So if the call-up comes, you can claim exemption because you will be in a reserved occupation. The factory is taking on war-related work now.’
‘But why should you do that?’
‘Why not?’ Stan said. ‘Think about it. I have neither chick nor child belonging to me.’
‘What about your son?’
‘Huh, he doesn’t even know I exist,’ Stan said bitterly. ‘And if he did ever find out, what would he think of me, sitting pretty here while others risk their lives?’
Barry shrugged. ‘So what of my child?’
‘That’s totally different,’ Stan said firmly. ‘As she grows, Connie will understand that you had her to care for and her mother and grandmother. She would never blame you, but I’m not brining my son up and in fact have no rights with regard to him because I signed them away. So no one will mourn me if I don’t make it.’
‘Well that’s not true,’ Barry said. ‘Haven’t you ever heard the saying that you are stuck with your relatives and thank God you can choose your friends?’
‘Yeah I’ve heard it.’
‘Well then you’ve got friends who’d miss you. Mammy thinks the world of you, you know she does. She’s never forgotten what you did, letting my four older brothers lodge with you when we first came here, and she never will, and Angela also thinks the world of you. As for Connie, you are her favourite uncle and a damn sight more use than her real uncles who she’ll probably never see. And you might be a right silly sod at times but I am quite fond of you myself.’
Stan was forced to laugh. ‘All right then,’ he said. ‘So you’d miss me if I wasn’t here?’
‘Like Hell I would,’ Barry said. ‘So let’s hope this latest skirmish comes to nothing and blows over like it has other times and you won’t have to go anywhere.’
Stan said nothing for he saw that was how Barry wanted to deal with what he’d said. There was little point in arguing about it because it wasn’t as if he knew anything definite, just a feeling in his bones that Europe was building up to something big, like a big melting pot of unrest with old rivalries and resentments bubbling to the surface and he felt certain it would soon overflow.
There was another reason for him wanting to keep Barry safe that he never let himself think about in the day, but there were thoughts that disturbed his sleep at night, and that was the fact that he loved Angela. He knew however Angela viewed him only as a friend, a good friend, but that is all he would ever be, a good friend of Angela McClusky because the love of her life was Barry. They were soul mates and he wanted Angela’s happinesss above all else and so if any of these skirmishes turned to a war England was dragged into, he wanted to keep Barry safe for Angela’s sake.
FIFTEEN
Barry said nothing to either Angela or Mary about the conversation he had with Stan for he saw no reason to alarm them, but he started bringing in two papers on his way home from work. The Birmingham Mail dealt with mainly local news, but the Daily Mail he scrutinized from cover to cover and he saw that Europe was not a comfortable place to be in at that time. He was glad that he was in Great Britain although even there it was hardly comfortable with half the country on strike for better pay and conditions.
And then on Sunday 28th June, the heir apparent to the dual monarchy of Hungary-Austria, Archduke Franz Ferdinand, was assassinated in the Bosnian capital Sarajevo by a Serbian nationalist called Gavrilo Princip. The Archduke Ferdinand’s wife Sophie, Duchess of Hohenberg, who tried to protect her husband, was shot in the stomach and she also died. Barry knew with a sinking heart that something big would come from this. It was splashed all over Monday’s papers and he knew he couldn’t protect his mother or Angela from news like this so he read the article out to them as they sat having a drink before bed.
They were both understandably shocked and then Barry added, ‘Apparently, they weren’t very popular, particularly in Budapest and Vienna.’
‘They weren’t very popular,’ Mary repeated and added, ‘I would have said that was a barbaric sentence to pass on someone whose only crime appears to be one of unpopularity. Besides which, if you did away with all the people you didn’t like the look of, or the way they went about things, the world would be near empty.’
‘Yes it would,’ Angela agreed. ‘And however unpopular they were, no country can stand by and let the heir of their emperor be killed in that way. What’s likely to happen now?’
Barry shook his head. ‘I’m not sure,’ he admitted. ‘I suppose this Hungary-Austria alliance could attack Serbia.’
‘We
ll that won’t affect us,’ Mary said complacently.
Barry opened his mouth but closed it again without speaking. He had said enough for the time being. He would say more when he knew more.
Barry didn’t know much more for nearly a month, except for finding out that Princip was an Austrian subject. Stan was right, the British Government had their eyes completely off the ball and so were unaware that the Emperor Franz Joseph wanted to attack Serbia in retaliation as the assassination had taken place on Serbian soil and he had asked the Kaiser for help. Russia came in on the side of Serbia and mobilized 1,000,000 troops and when they wouldn’t withdraw Germany declared war on Russia on the 1st of August and two days later declared war on France. Italy decided to keep out of it and Belgium’s neutrality was assured by a treaty signed in 1839 by Britain, France and Germany. When German troops went into Belgium on 4th August, breaking that treaty, Britain was plunged into war the following day.
In a way it was so quick and unexpected because Britain had been unaware of it until it was too late to even try to prevent it. Mary and Angela were extremely worried by the news. ‘Shall you be called up?’
‘I don’t know if there will be a call-up but anyway I am safe,’ Barry said and told them of Stan’s proposal. Angela couldn’t help but be pleased that Barry would be safe, but worried about Stan. ‘Suit me if we could keep them both out of it,’ Angela said. ‘What do they know of war?’
‘What does any ordinary person know?’ Mary said. ‘And I bet young lads will enlist in droves, like it’s some big adventure they’re going to.’
Mary was right and the very next Sunday just as they were finishing dinner they heard the military band going along Bristol Street. ‘I wonder where they’re making for,’ Angela said.
‘Let’s go and find out,’ Barry suggested.
‘Oh I can’t,’ Angela said. ‘There’s the dishes to see to.’
‘I’ll see to the dishes,’ Mary said. ‘You go and see what it’s all about.’
‘Are you sure?’ Angela asked.
‘Course I’m sure,’ Mary said firmly. ‘And I bet young Connie here would like to see the soldiers marching behind the band, wouldn’t you, pet?’
Connie nodded her head emphatically for she had heard the band and loved music. ‘Let’s away then,’ Barry said, scooping Connie from her chair and on to his shoulders in one movement.
‘Wait,’ Angela cried. ‘She needs her coat.’
‘Not on a day like this she doesn’t, woman,’ Barry said. ‘Hurry up or it’ll be over before we get there.’
They weren’t the only ones setting out for when they stepped out of the door they saw many doing the same thing and all making their way to Bristol Passage, which led down to Bristol Street. And what they saw when they reached the main street stopped many in their tracks.
A man in full regalia led the band. He had a cap with a shiny peak pulled down so low, Angela doubted his eyes were visible, but what was visible was his dark, curling moustache above his resolute mouth. He was wearing white gloves and in one hand he carried a twirling ornamental stick. He looked neither right nor left but straight ahead and his boots rang with each precise step on the cobbles and set the beat for the musicians to follow, reinforced by the big drums at the back.
The band were followed by the regular soldiers, khaki bags slung across their bodies, rifles over their left shoulders and all perfectly in time. A cheer rose in the air and rippled through the watching crowd and small boys ran whooping and cavorting along the pavement, caught up in the excitement of it all.
Behind the soldiers were civilians, many mere boys, younger than Barry, and he could well understand the lure. For the band and the spectacle were a promise of a more exciting life than one played out on those mean streets where they mightn’t even have employment. Even from the people standing with them, one or two broke away and joined the motley crew following the army. ‘Shall we follow them and listen to what they have to say?’ Barry asked.
‘You … You won’t be tempted to join them?’
‘Are you joking?’ Barry said. ‘I’m not a boy to be swayed by a few marching soldiers. I’m a married man with responsibilities and in the job I do, I’m helping the war effort, so I’m doing my bit that way.’
Relieved and reassured, Angela let out the breath she hadn’t been aware she was holding and said, ‘We may as well then.’
As Barry and Angela had guessed, the army marched into Calthorpe Park and a man with a bristling moustache and a shiny peaked cap, like the one the band master wore, leapt up onto the steps of the stadium. The band played on and the man made no effort to speak while the people were still streaming in through the entrance.
Eventually, a large crowd had assembled in front of the stadium, the band had stopped playing and laid their instruments down, and the man began to speak. He spoke first of what a privilege he’d always thought it was to serve his country, as he had done for many years in the British Army, and the finest way to serve any nation was to fight for them if that’s what had to be done, especially in a war situation.
‘So now our country is at war again, but it is an honourable war to bring freedom and justice to oppressed nations. The British Army’s aim is to rid the world of brutal aggressors, for they are our enemy and we must crush them so that innocent men and women can live in peace. Many have already answered the call and come forward to help in this task. But we need more to ensure we win this righteous war. Which of you young men have the courage to join us? Who amongst you will be able to wear the British Army uniform with pride knowing they have been part of making the world a safer place?’
It was stirring stuff, Barry had to admit, and despite his words to Angela his feet seemed to want to move of their own volition. He planted them firmly on the ground and he knew fighting in a war would be bloody and dirty and probably quite frightening at times and he might be injured or killed. And then where would that leave his mother and Angela and his baby daughter? He might not see her grow up so he was glad that wasn’t in his life plan anyway, and yet he couldn’t help wishing desperately that he could be part of this honourable war.
He wasn’t a bit surprised though when young men and boys began peeling themselves away from the crowd to join the ranks of those who had followed the army. At first it was one or two that went, but that became a trickle and then a flood until a great many young men were there to sign on the dotted line and be part of the great British Army.
‘Shall we go now?’ Angela said for she had seen the zeal in her husband’s face and, for all his assurances, it had disturbed her. ‘Unless you want to see if Stan is here. I did look but didn’t spot him.’
‘Oh he won’t be here,’ Barry said. ‘He has already been to see them at Thorp Street Barracks. He’s already in.’
‘Oh,’ Angela said and then she exclaimed, ‘Look, there’s one that isn’t in yet, but looks as if he’s about to rememdy that.’ For a little way ahead of them in the crowd was Maggie and she had her arm linked with Michael Malone and as they watched he stepped away from her and joined the other boys and young men waiting to join up. ‘It’s Michael,’ she said. ‘Thought he would have more sense.’
‘Maybe sense has less to do with it than lack of money,’ Barry said. ‘He was laid off six months ago and hasn’t really earned a penny since then. In fact that may be why a lot of boys are joining up.’
‘Dangerous path to tread.’
‘Needs must,’ said Barry.
The weeks that followed were strange ones. All the young fellows at the foundry gave notice as they said they were joining up and the only people applying for the jobs were women. The factory was noisy, greasy and grimy and a lot of the work was heavy and Barry didn’t think it was a place for women to work and took the problem to Mr Baxter who was the manager of the whole factory. ‘I think you must get over that prejudice against women, young Barry,’ he said when he’d heard him out.
‘It’s not prejudice, sir,’ Barry protested.
‘Or at least not in a nasty way. I’m thinking of them, sir, for the work is really not suited to women.’
‘So what’s to be done?’ Mr Baxter said. ‘Those orders have to go out for they are for the war effort. How are we to expect our soldiers to face the enemy with no weapons or rifles?’
‘Well no.’
‘Look, Barry,’ Mr Baxter said, ‘ours will not be the only factory to be nearly empty of all its young man. You need a great deal of men to fight a war and have a chance of winning. You also need a great deal of ammunition too, so if there’s no men to make it there’s only the women left. Give the jobs to the women, Barry, and believe me they’ll tell you if the work is too much for them.’
Barry was very surprised as the weeks passed. The women came in overalls with scarves wrapped turban-style around their heads. They were a cheerful lot, full of laughter and fun, and they changed the atmosphere of the factory floor, though the noise of the machines prevented them from talking a great deal when they were working, but they made up for it in the canteen when they were at their dinner or tea break when the noise level was sometimes very high indeed. But Barry put up with that because in all other ways they were no trouble. They arrived promptly and worked hard and never complained about the job as the young lads were wont to do and Barry had to revise his opinion of the work a woman can or should do.
He was further astounded when he saw women as conductresses on the omnibuses and trams, but completely flabbergasted when he saw women driving them, and they were driving horse-drawn wagons too and petrol-driven ones. He heard they were working in factories all over the country, leaving their homes and families some of them and taking lodging in the bigger houses. Cramped back-to-back houses usually had no space to accommodate these intrepid souls who took work where they could, in drop forges, or steel works or Dunlops making tyres for military vehicles. Then there were many types of weaponry made in special munitions workshops and it was women now who assembled and tested guns in the gun quarter.