Brave Faces

by Mary Arden

  Just as I passed the window of the pub, one of the Petty Officers from Heron, who was sitting inside the pub, saw me and if looks could kill she could have put pay to an entire army. It was obvious that this Petty Officer had immediately got the wrong end of the stick, as she rushed out of the pub and yelled, ‘Leading Wren Arden, what do you think you are doing?’

  She must have assumed that I was collecting the barrel of booze to take to a party with my friends, but before I could reply and explain what I was doing and why, the Petty Officer started shouting about how I had lied about working in the fields and that she would report me immediately.

  Meanwhile, frightened by her voice and general demeanor, Star began to turn in circles. I begged the Petty Officer not to talk so loudly or she would frighten the horse, but my words were like a red rag to a bull.

  ‘How dare you talk back to a Petty Officer!’ she barked. ‘I’m putting your name on Charge for insolence. Report to the First Officer Wren first thing tomorrow morning.’

  More concerned about getting Star to calm down, I carefully balanced the wooden cider barrel against my thigh, and told the landlord, who appeared to be dumbstruck at the PO’s outburst, that I would sort it out once I got back to the airfield, so not to worry.

  I was almost in tears by the time I got back to the Bridges farm and handed the barrel to Ted. As I dismounted Ted asked me what was wrong, so I told him what had happened, and that it was possible that I’d be forbidden from working on the farm again.

  ‘That isn’t fair,’ Ted said, ‘but, don’t you fuss yourself my dear, I will write a letter saying that I told you to go and fetch the barrel and why, and if your Officer don’t believe me, I’ll get Jack at the local to ring up and explain.’

  The following day I reported to the First Officer’s office and she told me how disappointed she was, and that she hadn’t expected me, of all people, to take advantage of the extra leave I’d been allowed, supposedly to volunteer in the fields, just to take the time off to enjoy myself drinking with friends instead.

  I then very politely asked her if she’d be so good as to read the letter that Mr Bridges had kindly written for me in my defence.

  The First Officer read Ted’s letter, but instead of apologizing to me, she began to defend the Petty Officer instead, saying that it must have just been a silly misunderstanding. She then called the PO into her office and asked her to explain the reason why she had put me on this charge.

  ‘Leading Wren Arden was collecting alcohol from the pub on horseback! It was obvious to me that she was on her way to a party, rather than working on the farm, as she had claimed she was doing, so I have put her on report,’ the PO said.

  The First Officer then asked the Petty Officer if she thought that it could also be possible that Leading Wren Arden might have been at the pub, because she had been sent by the farmer she was working for, to collect refreshments for his hard working men who needed cooling down in this unusually hot weather, and that Leading Wren Arden might have had no intention of attending any party at all.

  The look on the Petty Officer’s face was a picture. First she looked surprised, as it was obvious that she’d never thought of such a thing, and then she looked really disappointed, as it slowly dawned on her that I hadn’t broken any rules and therefore she could not put me on a charge.

  ‘No, that didn’t occur to me Ma’am. Is that her excuse? If so, I find it very hard to believe,’ the PO said with a smirk.

  The First Officer then picked up Ted’s letter and handed it to the Petty Officer to read.

  ‘This is a letter from the farmer that Leading Wren Arden is working for. It explains that he had asked her to collect the barrel for him, and to save time, he asked her to ride there on one of his horses.’

  The Petty Officer then looked at me with contempt and said that it hadn’t looked like that to her; I had been laughing and fooling about with the landlord in an unseemly manner. This was an outright lie, of course, and it was obvious that she had taken a dislike to me and was determined to have me punished. The First Officer then looked at me with a raised eyebrow and enquired if I had anything to say for myself.

  ‘Yes, Ma’am I would like to explain that I was laughing with the landlord because he had mistakenly tied my leg to the barrel instead of to the stirrup leather, but there was nothing unseemly about it at all. The landlord will verify all this if necessary Ma’am.’

  ‘That won’t be necessary. Case dismissed,’ the First Officer concluded, and while I was still standing in the room, she warned the Petty Officer to make sure of her facts in future before wasting her time.

  After the red-faced Petty Officer had left the room, the First Officer asked me to sit down. I was grateful to do so, as my legs were shaking by now.

  ‘I’m sorry to have caused a problem Ma’am,’ I said, ‘but the Bridges have been very good to me, so when I was asked to collect the cider I agreed to do so without hesitation.’

  ‘I would have done exactly the same thing myself, but you must see how easy it was for the Petty Officer to take the whole episode the wrong way?’

  ‘Yes Ma’am, I suppose so,’ I replied, still convinced that the PO had it in for me just because she didn’t like anybody who came from a privileged background.

  ‘I advise you not to mention this incident to anyone outside this door, and I will tell the Petty Officer the same thing,’ she said before I left her office.

  On the way back to the NVT office, I noticed a poster advertising some upcoming musical evenings, starting the following Thursday, and they were open to All Ranks. The concerts would only be someone playing gramophone records but I thought it would be a very good way to relax in the evenings, so mentioned it to Anne to see if she’d like to join me, but she politely declined, saying that she’d much rather read her book in the evenings.

  I arrived at eight sharp, as advertised, and found my way to a seat in the middle of the Entertainments hut. Looking around, there didn’t seem to be any Other Ranks there except me, but the hut soon began to fill up with Wren and naval Officers. I took off my jacket so that no one would notice the anchor on the sleeve identifying me as a Leading Wren, and then I sat quietly, waiting for the concert to begin.

  As the lights went down I felt my chair move slightly, as someone sat down right behind me, and then as the music started, I became completely entranced with the deep, resounding sound of an organ filling the room. I closed my eyes, and succumbed to its beauty.

  This first piece of music was a Bach Fugue, which I loved and that was followed by some rather serious Italian opera, and then the last piece was Faure’s Requiem. I recognised it instantly, but couldn’t remember when or where I had heard it before, but it was so beautiful that it moved me to tears. Trying not to disturb anyone, I fumbled in my jacket pocket for a handkerchief to wipe away the tears that were now tumbling down my cheeks, but I couldn’t find one.

  Suddenly, a handkerchief appeared over my shoulder, which I gratefully took and wiped away my tears. I then turned sideways to acknowledge my gratitude mouthing a quiet ‘thank you’ to whoever had come to my rescue, but could not see who it was in the dark. I decided that I would thank whoever it was after the music finished. As the glorious, spiritual music came to an end, there was complete silence for a moment. Perhaps everyone else had been as moved by it, as I had, I thought.

  The lights were then turned on and as everyone stood up, I turned around to thank the person that had lent me the handkerchief.

  I was met by the biggest smile I had ever seen. The next thing I noticed was that the owner of the smile also had the most amazing coloured hair. It was what my mother would have called Titian, a lovely, rich mahogany red.

  ‘Thank you,’ I said to the man who, I could now see was an Officer. He lent forward and looking into my eyes, he asked, ‘Are your eyes grey or green?’

  ‘Usually blue, but they are a bit red at the moment as I have been crying,’ I said smiling; ‘the music was so beautiful th
at it reduced me to tears; aren’t I silly?’

  ‘Not at all,’ the young Officer said in a deep, soft voice. ‘I must admit it almost moved me to tears too,’ he grinned, before adding, ‘but it was a good thing it didn’t because you had my handkerchief!’

  We both laughed and I immediately felt at ease with this kind young man.

  ‘I’m so glad that someone else feels the way I do about music,’ I told him.

  I saw him glance at the sodden handkerchief I was still clutching in my hand.

  ‘I’ll wash it when I get back to my billet and let you have it back nicely washed and ironed, I promise,’ I assured him.

  As I picked up my jacket, I saw the surprise on his face when he noticed the anchor sewn on the arm, which told him that I was only a Leading Wren and not a Wren Officer.

  ‘May I help you with your jacket?’ he offered gallantly.

  ‘Oh, thank you very much,’ I said, handing it to him.

  ‘Do you live on the base?’ he asked, as he helped me with my jacket.

  ‘No, I’m lucky,’ I told him, ‘I have been billeted with some other Wrens in an old Inn at Queen Camel, which is much more comfortable than a Nissen hut!’

  As we walked down the path the Officer asked me how I got to and from the airfield, so I explained that I was trying to use my bicycle, as much as possible, rather than the naval transport. When we reached the bicycle racks, he helped me lift my bicycle out and I said, ‘I must rush now or I’ll be late. If I’m not back by ten I’ll be in big trouble!’

  The Officer stared at me for a moment and then asked quietly, ‘Do you like reading poetry?’

  ‘Yes I do as a matter of fact,’ I replied.

  ‘That’s something else we have in common then,’ he said, smiling at me. ‘By the way I don’t remember you telling me your name.’

  ‘Mary Arden, Sir,’ I replied. ‘And what’s yours if I may ask?’

  ‘I won’t tell you if you call me ‘Sir’,’ he replied. ‘It’s ridiculous, and it makes me feel ancient!’

  ‘But I have to, Sir: rules is rules!’ I said, laughing.

  ‘But once we’re outside these gates, you are allowed to call Officers by their Christian names, aren’t you?’

  ‘Only if one or other of us is in civilian clothes,’ I reminded him.

  ‘I could always go back and get my pyjamas!’ he suggested, with a broad grin.

  I laughed out loud and said mischievously, ‘That would cause a bit of gossip.’

  ‘Well, I wouldn’t like to start a scandal,’ he laughed, ‘so I had better introduce myself without further ado: I’m Duncan Ogilvie.’

  ‘That sounds like a Scottish name,’ I remarked, ‘but you don’t sound like all the other Scottish people I’ve ever heard talk before.’

  ‘And you don’t sound like all the other Ordinary Leading Wrens, do you Mary Arden?’ Duncan said, grinning.

  ‘No, I suppose not,’ I replied.

  ‘Then that’s another thing we have in common!’ Duncan said smiling that big smile again, ‘So I think we must be destined to become friends.’

  ‘Will you be at the concert again next week, Duncan?’ I asked. ‘If so, I will bring your handkerchief back, as I promised, clean and ironed!’

  ‘That would be perfect,’ Duncan said, still smiling at me, as I got on my bicycle. It was only then that I noticed how blue his eyes were and that he was really rather handsome.

  The moment I got back to the billet, I went up to my bedroom and put Duncan’s sodden, screwed up handkerchief in the washbasin to soak. I then put him out of my mind and went to bed.

  As fate would have it, the following Tuesday, Duncan’s squadron was booked in for Night Vision Tests. I had no idea, which squadron Duncan was attached to and he had no idea that I was one of the NV Testers, so it was a lovely surprise to suddenly see each other again. After the test Duncan stayed behind and told me that he had been trying to find out where I was working, but none of his friends recognised his description of a small, blond Leading Wren by the name of Arden.

  ‘Of course, what I should have done,’ Duncan said with that cheeky smile of his, ‘was to ask the Officers in the Wardroom where the prettiest girl at the airfield worked, and then I would have found you sooner!’

  ‘Flattery will get you nowhere, Lieutenant Ogilvie,’ I giggled.

  ‘So what do I have to do, then, Leading Wren Arden?’ Duncan said raising an eyebrow.

  ‘How about offering your services next Sunday on the farm where I am working as a volunteer?’ I suggested.

  ‘Sounds like far too much hard work, I will have to think about it,’ Duncan replied before leaving.

  At the musical evening on Thursday, I saw Duncan sitting next to some other Officers, but as soon as the music was over he came over and asked me whether I had enjoyed the records. I told him that I had, and fortunately hadn’t required his handkerchief this time. I then handed his now clean and pressed handkerchief back to him.

  Duncan asked whether he could walk part of the way back to my billet with me, and on the way, he told me a little bit about himself: he had never visited England until he joined the Navy, having spent most of his life in Perthshire and then Edinburgh where he spent two years studying for his BSc in Forestry at the University there. His father had begged him to stay on to finish his third year before joining up, but Duncan and his two best friends had insisted that it was their duty to join up at once.

  Duncan then said how much he missed the wonderful Scottish heather, deer-stalking and fishing; but admitted that he was entranced by the little English villages in Somerset that he had seen so far, and was going to buy himself a second-hand bicycle so that he could see a bit more of the countryside.

  ‘Good,’ I said, ‘and once you have your own bicycle, there will be no excuse not to come and work on the farm; they need all the help they can get you know,’ I teased.

  ‘Not so fast Mary! I haven’t ridden a bike since the war began; I will be lucky to even get to the farm, let alone work once I am there!’

  ‘Well then, you’d better start saving your strength and turn around now and go back to the airfield, as we are almost back at my billet.’

  ‘Goodness, you’re right!’ Duncan exclaimed, ‘I hadn’t realised that we had walked quite so far, and I mustn’t be too late getting to bed tonight, as I am flying one of our new Seafires first thing in the morning, so I need to be fully alert.’

  ‘Some of the pilots have told me that they are wonderful to fly,’ I said.

  ‘Yes, I think it’s the next best thing to being a bird, talking of which I must fly!’ Duncan said smiling ‘that’ smile once more, and then he turned away and started walking back to the airfield.

  This time, as I went to bed I couldn’t put him out of my mind and it took me quite a while to get to sleep.

  When I woke up I was still smiling.

  CHAPTER 10

  1943

  I wasn’t expecting to see Duncan again before the next musical evening, so when I saw him standing by the bicycle racks after work one day it gave me such a surprise, that instead of saying, ‘How lovely to see you again and thank you for walking me back to my billet,’ I blurted out, ‘What are you doing here?’’

  ‘Come and see what I’ve found!’ Duncan said pointing to an old bicycle with a huge basket at the front, which looked like the kind that errand boy’s used to deliver meat and fish before the war. ‘So what do you think of my trusty steed? I’ve managed to get one of the grocer’s in Yeovil to hire it to me for a shilling a week, while I am stationed here.’

  ‘A shilling a week! Is that with or without brakes?’ I asked, laughing. ‘Duncan, you can’t be seen riding that old contraption, it’s not befitting an Officer.’

  ‘Don’t worry, I won’t ride it when I am wearing my uniform,’ Duncan assured me, ‘I just want to enjoy the odd ride now and again exploring the country lanes during these lovely summer evenings. Maybe we could even go out together one evening, i
f you are not too ashamed to be seen with me?’

  I laughed and told him that I would be happy to, as long as he would agree to put in a full day on the Bridges’ farm.

  ‘That’s why I am here,’ Duncan then told me, ‘I want you to give me the directions to get to the farm, as I thought I’d come and help next Sunday.’

  As I explained to Duncan how to get to the Bridges’ farm, I warned him that it was a very hilly ride, so he should make sure his brakes worked properly before setting off.

  ‘Maybe we could ride to a pub on the way back for a quick glass of cider together?’ he suggested, with a twinkle in his eye.

  ‘Perhaps,’ I replied.

  The following Sunday I was grooming a huge carthorse, when Bobby patted my back to get my attention and then pointed at a man wheeling a bicycle towards the Bridges farm.

  ‘Don’t worry Bobby, he’s a friend, you’ll like him, come and say hello,’ I said to reassure Bobby who was looking nervously at the stranger heading towards us.

  Duncan must have immediately realised that Bobby was a bit simple, and might be afraid of a strange man, so he held out his hand and smiling at Bobby, said, ‘Hello my name is Duncan, what’s yours?’

  ‘This is Bobby,’ I said, answering for him. ‘He is my knight in shining armour, and my rescuer from field mice!’ Bobby grinned from ear to ear.

  ‘In that case, I am very pleased to meet you Bobby!’ Duncan said kindly, shaking Bobby’s hand.

  As we all walked towards the farmhouse, I told Duncan about my fear of mice running up my trouser legs, and he chortled with laughter. He then bent down and lifted up the bottom of one of my trouser legs and waggled his fingers pretending to be a mouse. Bobby started giggling and copied Duncan’s mime with his fingers, before heading back to the stables.

  ‘Oh I’m so glad to see you!’ I said, beaming, and then added, ‘I need to go and feed the hens now to collect the eggs, do you want to help me?’

  ‘Why not?’ Duncan replied.