Brave Faces

by Mary Arden

  Over the weeks, the dusty hangar was transformed by a dedicated group of volunteers who spent days dusting, scrubbing and cleaning, so that by the time we were doing our final dress rehearsal, it resembled a Christmas grotto, complete with fir-tree branches provided by the Forestry Commission, camouflage netting balanced over frames around the walls, and paper chains hanging from the ceiling in the auditorium. Everyone felt that the hard work was worth it because the hangar was the centre for all the entertainments over Christmas; which now included a film show on Boxing Day afternoon, and a dance that evening, and the New Year’s Cinderella Ball.

  During those busy weeks of rehearsal, I seldom got to bed before eleven but somehow still managed to do all my NVT work without falling asleep in the dark Testing Room. Freddy gave me a lift back to the Coach Inn in his car most evenings, and when he couldn’t do it, one of TNT’s night drivers came to my rescue.

  Anne was very understanding and had volunteered to do the re-tests on Saturdays, so that I could go to Yeovil to do my shopping.

  I was now getting to know my way around Yeovil a bit better, and would ask transport to drop me off and pick me up at Polly’s tea rooms. My Christmas shopping took ages, as I was trying to find things that didn’t require coupons. I was delighted when I found a second-hand shop that sold china ornaments and books along with hundreds of other things that were suitable to buy as Christmas presents. I decided to wrap the presents in brown laundry paper and then paint Christmas scenes on them to make them look a bit more festive.

  On Christmas Eve morning, I woke up feeling as nervous as a kitten about the evening’s performance. I made myself eat something for breakfast, but by lunchtime, I was too tense to even drink a cup of tea without feeling sick. The whole cast had spent the morning checking that we all knew where we were supposed to be on the stage that night, so that the lighting crew could get their spotlights in the right place at the right time. One of the lighting engineers reminded me to stand as close to the manger as possible so that they could then guide the star directly to the point above my head and make a light look as though it was shining down on baby Jesus, which was actually a baby doll.

  The costume area had been organised with military precision, as there was so little room for anyone to get changed between acts, and to avoid any muddle, each member of the cast was allotted their own little corner where their outfits were displayed on hangers.

  The curtain went up on time, and the opening act, The Can-Can, went down so well that we got three encores, which meant that the whole revue would now run half an hour late, but no-one seemed to mind. We then performed a few sketches and most of us remembered our lines perfectly, and those that didn’t managed to cover it up so cleverly that the audience didn’t notice, and the prompter was not required to call out once, thank goodness. The audience joined in the choruses for all the songs we did next, during which a large board was lowered from the ceiling illuminated by a spotlight, so that they could read the words. Everyone then sang a few Christmas carols together, while a scenery change took place behind the drawn curtains. Finally it was time for the big finale, the Nativity play.

  Earlier that day a patriotic farmer had donated a bale of straw to cover the floor of the stage to make it look more like a stable, but unfortunately, nobody had realised that Joseph suffered from hay fever, and he was now doubled up sneezing.

  ‘Can’t anyone stop the man sneezing, this won’t do at all,’ our director Freddy complained, ‘the curtain is due to go up in less than a minute.’

  ‘What we need now is a miracle!’ one of the Shepherds joked, but soon stopped laughing when Freddy gave him one of his now infamous glares.

  The Wren Officer who was playing the part of the Virgin Mary solved the problem by grabbing the nappy the Baby Jesus was wearing and handing it to Joseph, who promptly blew his nose into it, but then realising what he had just done, looked up to Heaven, and said a quick ‘Sorry Lord’ before placing it back in the manger, just as the curtain went up.

  The play started well and thankfully Joseph didn’t sneeze once. But then I noticed that one of the Shepherds false beards was starting to peel off. Obviously it needed more glue, but it was too late to do anything about it now, so he would just have to hold it on. The Three Kings then began to walk towards Mary and Joseph to place their presents at the foot of the manger. The First King was a rather tall Lieutenant Commander; the Second King a Sub-Lieutenant, whom I’d recently tested in the NVT unit, and the Third King was a sailor who had been chosen for his weather-beaten skin, which was made even darker with make-up. They all wore magnificent dressing gowns which had been found in the dressing up box, and then embellished with gold braid, red ribbon and sparkling sequins. Their cardboard crowns made them look really quite regal.

  It was now my turn, so I softly began to sing ‘Silent Night, Holy Night’ in German, as had been agreed and then started to walk slowly out of the darkness at the back of the stage, towards the centre. The electricians, or Sparks as they were called, who were working above me in the rafters, slowly moved the star in time with my slow steps across the stage; unfortunately the star suddenly began to wobble, and the light that reflected off it started to jump all around the hangar, which was a little distracting but thankfully, they soon got it back under control.

  As the song came to an end, I raised one of my arms with my palm facing the Shepherds and the Kings to bless them, and then the spotlight was turned off exactly on cue. I suddenly felt so overcome with the holiness of the moment, that instead of disappearing backstage into the darkness, as I’d done correctly every time in rehearsals, I walked to the front of the stage, raised both hands and blessed everyone in the audience. Everyone appeared to be so stunned by my gesture, that they all lowered their heads as one for the blessing, at which point I suddenly snapped out of my Angel mode and exited stage left, as quickly as possible.

  I thought that Freddy would be furious with me for improvising, but when I saw his face, I could see tears running down his cheeks, and fortunately he was also smiling.

  The audience applauded for a while and then someone shouted ‘Happy Christmas!’ which was followed by a loud cheer and the sound of people getting up to leave. Meanwhile, backstage we were all relieved that the revue had been such a success and everyone shook hands and slapped each other on the back. Someone put a glass of cider in my hand, informing me that it was a local brew called ‘Scrumpy’, so to drink it slowly, but I was so thirsty that I drank it all in a couple of gulps and then had a second glass. It tasted a little strange, not at all like any of the bottled cider I had had before. Ten minutes later, having finished my third glass, I began to wonder why I now had four feet instead of two.

  When it was time to go, I kissed almost everyone in the room goodnight, forgetting that most of them were Officers. When one of them asked me who was taking me back to my billet, as all the other Wrens had gone, I said, ‘Freddy of course.’

  ‘Sir Frederick is being entertained by the Captain with some local dignitaries and their families in the Wardroom,’ I was told, ‘so he won’t be taking you anywhere.’

  ‘I suppose I could go on my bicycle,’ I said miserably, ‘but it’s very dark down those lanes to Queen Camel.’

  ‘We’ll take you Angel,’ a slightly worse-for-wear Lieutenant Commander, who had played one of the Kings said cheerfully, ‘Won’t we Johnny?’ he asked turning to his colleague, who was one of the Shepherds.

  ‘Yes we will, we’ll just follow the brightest star all the way!’

  A Third Officer Wren sitting next to me, offered to come with me so that there would be two girls with the two boys in the car, ‘I’ll keep the men in order,’ she promised.

  As we weaved our way dangerously through the narrow lanes, we sang carols and when we eventually got to my billet, I got out and thanked the driver.

  ‘I’ll see you to the door,’ the young Sub-Lieutenant offered, leaping out of the car and nearly falling over his feet, as he did so. He then
insisted on helping me to open the door but I told him that I could manage ‘Purf… fectly well… on my own… Thank you ve… very much!’

  I promptly dropped my keys on the ground, but soon retrieved them, and all I had to do now was to find the keyhole. But just as I was about to put the key in the lock, the door opened, and an angry looking Wren Petty Officer glared at me.

  ‘You’re late Leading Wren I’ll have to report you in the morning,’ she snapped.

  ‘If you report Leading Wren Angel on Christmas Day I will speak to the Captain!’ the outraged young Sub-Lieutenant shouted back at her. He then saluted me and did a Hornpipe back to the car. The Wren Petty Officer was speechless.

  ‘I’m sorry I’m late but I had to wait for transport back,’ I said quietly. ‘If you wish to speak to the Third Officer, she’s still in the car.’

  ‘Well don’t be late again or I shall refuse to give you a late pass next time,’ the bossy Petty Officer said grudgingly.

  I went upstairs to my room and just as I was about to get undressed, the door opened and a group of smiling faces appeared. One of the girls then said, ‘You were fantastic, Mary; the Captain was so moved after you blessed us all that he had to blow his nose to hide the fact that he had tears in his eyes. Happy Christmas Mary!’

  On Christmas Day, we had plenty of time to unwrap our presents and chatter amongst ourselves before a lorry arrived to take us to a special service being held at the air station. We sang Christmas carols and said a few prayers, and after the service, we all trooped out onto the parade ground, where everyone, Officers and Other Ranks, shook hands and wished one another a happy day.

  A voice behind me said, ‘Leading Wren, Angel. Stand to attention!’ It was the cheeky Sub-Lieutenant from the night before. I saluted him and he smiled at me, saying, ‘If you have any trouble with that rather unpleasant Petty Officer that I had the misfortune to meet last night please let me know and I will have a word with the Captain. We can’t have an Angel being told what to do by the Devil now, can we?’

  He went off to join his friends, as some of the young pilots I’d met through work came up to me to shake my hand. Then the Captain and the vicar who had just given the service walked towards me.

  ‘Happy Christmas Sir,’ I said, saluting the Captain. He congratulated me on my performance the previous evening.

  ‘I’m afraid I got a bit carried away,’ I said smiling awkwardly at the vicar, ‘but it seemed to be the right thing to do at the time.’

  ‘It was the right thing to do,’ the vicar said, ‘Bless you my child.’

  I walked over to the Wren’s mess, where a special Christmas lunch had been organised and the cooks had done us proud; the food was almost prewar standard, as it had all been bought locally. In order to speed up the proceedings, the turkey had been carved in the kitchen and all the trimmings put on the plate. Tradition was kept alive, with the naval and Wren Officers serving the first course to the Other Ranks. They would have their lunch an hour or so later in their own mess.

  I was delighted to see that there was bread sauce and three sorts of vegetables and delicious roast potatoes. How the cooks had managed to produce a meal for so many people, I will never know. They must have been up half the night.

  When the meal was finished, three cheers were called for the cooks and the stewards who all came out of the kitchen and into the mess to take a bow.

  After lunch special transport for those in billets outside the air station was laid on and, when we got back to the Inn, I took myself up to my room to open my presents. My mother had sent me some new white knickers, and a few other things that she thought might be useful to me, which was thoughtful of her.

  At three o’clock we all gathered together in the recreation room to hear the King’s speech on the wireless. Thankfully he didn’t stutter too much on this occasion and I wondered whether he had been getting some help, as he sounded so much more confident than usual. I had always felt a bit sorry for him; it must have been such an ordeal to talk clearly publicly with such a bad speech impediment. The King spoke about the ‘family circle’ and that immediately made me picture my family all sitting around the fire listening to the speech at home, and suddenly I felt very homesick, so as soon as I could, I rang my parents reverse charges and spoke to them for over an hour.

  On the way back to the airfield that evening, the other girls were talking about the following evening’s dance, and about who they hoped would ask them for the Last Waltz. I didn’t really feel like going but thought that I should.

  The film show that night started with a Laurel and Hardy short film, which made us all laugh. I looked around at the interval to see if I could see our ‘Laurel and Hardy’, before I realised that the SBAs would most probably be on duty.

  The main film was a Whodunit and when it was over, we all sang the National Anthem, before filing out to return to our billets. When we arrived back at the Inn someone had already lit the sitting room fire. There weren’t enough seats for all of us, so some of the girls who had arrived the previous year and therefore knew the routine, brought down their bed rugs and pillows and settled down comfortably on the floor. We shared the chocolates and sweets that many of us had been sent and tried to decide on a game to play: someone suggested Charades, which prompted loud groans, so in the end we all decided we were far too tired to play anything, and just sat and chatted among ourselves until bedtime.

  Boxing Day was a day off for everyone, except for those working in essential and emergency services. Breakfast was a specially laid-on help-yourself affair at the Inn and we had lunch at the base, which consisted of yesterday’s leftovers, which was fine, as we had eaten so much the day before and all we really wanted to do was tidy our rooms, wash our hair, and put out on our smartest uniforms ready for the dance that evening.

  The dance was held in the same hangar that the revue had taken place, but had now been transformed with festive decorations, which looked quite jolly. I looked around for somewhere to sit, but to my dismay there were no chairs and only long, hard benches against each wall. And although the band was amateur, it made up for its shortcomings by playing very loudly and keeping in time. When each new dance started there was a mad rush as sailors virtually ran across the room to make sure that they got the girl of their choice before their friends did. But everyone always managed to find a partner, as there were so many of us. It was impossible to sit out a dance, because as soon as I tried to sit down, three sailors would appear almost immediately and demand that I dance with them, so I’d find myself shuffling or galloping around the room again, depending on the music.

  Anne Briscoe had spent most of the evening hiding behind the Christmas tree and had hardly danced all evening, so I went over to talk to her to make sure she was all right. She told me that it wasn’t because she didn’t enjoy dancing but because she was desperately shy, and only felt comfortable dancing with someone she knew already. Just then, a crowd of young Officers pushed through the entrance and made a beeline for the bar. I noticed Anne’s face suddenly light up, when she recognised one of the Officers, a Junior Sick Bay doctor called David Mount, and after a few minutes, he came over to ask her to dance, which she accepted without hesitation.

  A few dances later, a Paul Jones was called. The first time the music stopped, I found myself standing opposite Laurel, who surprised me by dancing rather well, but when it came to Hardy’s turn, my poor toes were so squashed that I prayed for the music to stop as quickly as possible.

  For the rest of the evening I danced with one Officer after another, most of whom I’d tested in the NVT unit, and was thankful when the Last Waltz was called, as I’d had so many late nights since arriving at Heron, that I was longing to get back to my warm bed.

  As the music began I suddenly had an image of myself dancing with Charles to the same tune, which made me feel very sad, and I had to hold back the tears. A young RN Lieutenant must have noticed the sad look on my face because he came up to me and whispered, ‘Are you mis
sing your boyfriend?’

  I nodded, thinking that he must be a very nice young man to have so intuitively picked up how I felt. ‘He’s dead,’ I told him quietly, fighting desperately to stop the tears that were now cascading down my cheek. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t mean to cry.’

  ‘Don’t ever say sorry for crying over somebody you loved,’ he said kindly, ‘I still miss my brother who was killed on Boxing Day last year and there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t feel like crying.’

  I was utterly shocked and suddenly felt very ashamed of my own selfish feelings. Looking at this young Lieutenant and then around me at the hangar, it was abundantly clear that many people at this dance were putting on brave faces; doing their utmost to appear happy even when they were not. Squeezing the young man’s hand, I said, ‘Thank you,’ and after telling me his name was Anthony Ross, he led me onto the dance floor to join in for the rest of the Last Waltz.

  When the dance was over there was a lot of activity as people milled around talking, collecting jackets, coats, bags and gasmask cases. Anthony asked whether I was intending go to the New Year dance.

  ‘Yes, are you?’ I replied.

  ‘Yes I am Mary, so I’ll look out for you there,’ he said smiling.

  As I climbed into bed that night, I realised to my surprise that I was already looking forward to New Year’s Eve and seeing Anthony again. I didn’t have any romantic feelings for him and sensed that he didn’t feel that way about me either, but he was obviously a very kind and sensitive man and I hoped that we might become friends.

  Four days later it was my nineteenth birthday, so the girls at my billet took me out for a drink, but we didn’t make a big night of it, as the following night was the New Year’s Eve dance and we wanted to save our energy. As we stepped into the hangar on New Year’s Eve, I was delighted to see that it had now been redecorated with brightly coloured paper-chains and lanterns. There was a much better band this time, including two talented young naval Officers, one on drums and the other on the saxophone. When the saxophonist waved at me, I realised that it was my new friend Anthony. I waved back, but before I had a chance to go and talk to him, I was whisked onto the dance floor and didn’t stop dancing until it was time for refreshments.