Brave Faces

by Mary Arden

  My mother put the letter down and tried to comfort me, as best she could but the tears just wouldn’t stop flowing. In the end it was the sound of Charlotte crying that made me pull myself together and go to see to her.

  One evening in August, on the nine o’clock news, we heard that something called an atomic bomb had been dropped on the Japanese city of Hiroshima. Apparently it was two thousand times more powerful than the largest bomb used up to now, and it had been dropped from an American B29 Super Fortress, called the Enola Gay. I tried not to think about the amount of people who must have been killed by it, as it was too horrific.

  Three days later, the Americans dropped another bomb, but this time it was on the city of Nagasaki. The bomb had been given the nickname ‘Fat Man’, after Winston Churchill.

  On the 14th August, the Japanese surrendered and the war was finally over.

  CHAPTER 19

  1945-46

  Before Duncan left for Ceylon, we had agreed that Charlotte should be christened while he was away, as at that time we had no idea of how long the war with Japan would go on. We had also agreed that she should be christened in England. However Duncan had insisted that his cousin and best man Ian, was there in his absence.

  Both Ian and Jane had agreed to be godparents and said they could come to the christening in Sussex, but Babs, Charlottes’ other godmother, was unable to come at the last minute as her husband had been wounded and was in a hospital in Edinburgh having his arm amputated, so as Aunt Beth was my godmother, I asked her if she would stand in for her, which she said she would be ‘absolutely thrilled’ to do.

  Aunt Beth made a beautiful Christening robe for Charlotte, out of some precious lace that she had been keeping for a ‘special occasion’, but I had nothing special to wear, so I wore the same suit that I’d worn on my honeymoon and added a double strand of pearls around my neck. However, the overall effect was rather spoilt because I was still wearing the big nappy pin that I’d attached to the lapel of my jacket when I had to quickly change Charlotte, just before leaving for the Christening. When Jane saw what I had done she got the giggles and that set me off too. Some things never change.

  An ex-naval Chaplin took the service, which went without a hitch and thankfully Charlotte didn’t cry at all. After the christening we all went back to Hilltop for tea in the garden. Irina had made a wonderful cake, which was a layered sponge cake filled with strawberries from my parent’s garden and cream from the cows on the home farm.

  While we were clearing up Jane’s boyfriend, Jim, turned up. He told us that his regiment was stationed nearby and that he had been granted a 72 pass, so we invited him to stay. Jane moved in with me, sharing the double bed, so that Jim could sleep in the spare room. This was a big mistake, as she pestered me all night to tell her exactly what to expect on the first night of her honeymoon, as Jim had just proposed to her!

  When everyone had left the next day, I finally had time to write a long letter to Duncan to tell him about the christening and how well behaved his daughter had been. I missed him so much and knew he would feel disappointed that he hadn’t been able to be there, so I tried to describe the day in as much detail as I could.

  That evening we all listened to the news on the wireless and heard horrific accounts of what the Allied troops had found at Hitler’s numerous concentration camps. We sat there in silence, completely stunned. I just couldn’t understand how one human being could do such awful atrocities to another.

  I was loath to take Charlotte away from the security of my parent’s home, but realised that it was now time for me to be independent and look for a home for my own family. When I discussed the idea with my father he advised me not to be in too much of a hurry, as it could be months before Duncan was freed of his duties and allowed to return home.

  However, I still thought that it might be a sensible idea to rent a small cottage somewhere near Duncan’s parents, where I hoped it would be quiet enough for him to revise and get ready to return to University to finish his degree, so I wrote to my in-laws to ask them if it would be too much trouble for them if Charlotte and I came to stay for a week or two while looking for our new home. They wrote back straight away telling me to come whenever it suited me and that Celia would be glad of some young company. ‘The two wee bairns can be together,’ Father John had written ‘and it will be a joy to see the cousins kicking on their blankets side by side!’ I hadn’t appreciated until that moment that Celia’s son, Christopher, would be Charlotte’s cousin and the thought made me smile.

  A week later I left for Perth, and when I arrived Grandpa John and Granny Bumble, as they were now calling themselves, were over the moon to see their granddaughter. Celia was just as excited and when she hugged Charlotte, she said, ‘She’s not a bit like Duncan but she is the image of you!’ When I saw how beautiful Christopher was and how much Celia obviously adored him, I felt very happy to be a part of this very special and loving family.

  After breakfast one day, Grandpa John gave me a copy of the Scotsman and pointed to the page advertising houses and flats for rent, ‘Mary, take a look at this small advertisement, it’s for a cottage in Pitlochry.’

  Excitedly I read the advertisement, which said that the owner wanted to have someone living in her cottage during the winter months to keep out the damp. The rent was only three pounds ten shillings a week, so I knew that we could afford to pay the rent from the money Duncan had been paying into our new joint account, so decided to go and see the cottage. Grandpa John contacted the agent for me and offered himself as a guarantor and then a few days later he drove me to Pitlochry, while Granny Bumble looked after Charlotte.

  Garden Cottage was halfway up a very steep hill on the edge of the small market town and looked like something you might see in a picture book with roses around the front door and tidy flowerbeds everywhere. When we went inside, the first thing I noticed was that the kitchen had an old fashioned dryer, like my mother-in-law used with a pulley system attached to her kitchen ceiling. The whole cottage was furnished quite prettily, so all I would need to buy was a towel horse to put the nappies on to air in front of the fire overnight. I decided then and there to rent it for four months with an option for longer if required.

  Before we left Grandpa John wanted to take a look in the garden shed and was pleased to see a hand mower, which he said he would use when he came to visit, so that he could keep the small lawn cut for me. I thought the shed would be a good place to leave Charlotte’s pram overnight. Next to the shed was a coalhouse with fuel for the fire in the small sitting room, which we would need soon, as winter wasn’t too far away.

  The next weekend, Grandpa John arranged for a small carrier to take our things to Pitlochry, which consisted of Charlotte’s pram and the utility cot that I’d bought for her when she out grew her basket, her bath, piles of toys and some clothes and nappies. My cases looked insignificant against all her clobber!

  Both Duncan’s parents came with us to drop Charlotte and me off at our new home, and when we arrived Granny Bumble said, ‘Duncan will be delighted dear, it will be perfect for you all until he’s in Edinburgh and it’s only an hour away from us, so we can see one another often. Now don’t hesitate to ring to ask for help or advice if the hot water system doesn’t work or you need John to chop logs for a fire next month,’ she smiled. I hugged her and said I’d ring her often to report on Charlotte’s progress and once I’d got the hang of how the oven worked I’d invite them all for lunch one weekend.

  I was so happy to have my own home that it never dawned on me that I might feel a bit lonely and alone here, with just Charlotte for company. I was fine to start with until I began hearing the odd creak and groan in the rafters in the evenings, which did frighten me a little, but I eventually got used to the strange sounds and soon got myself into a routine, lighting the fire every afternoon, so that the cottage was lovely and warm by the evening.

  I received a letter from Duncan the following week, telling me that his leg wound was st
ill not healing properly, but as he had so much work to do he couldn’t do much about it at the moment, especially as his job of keeping the aerodrome open for planes to land with extra supplies was so crucial right now. Although he was frustrated by the slow healing process, he reassured me that he was in good spirits and then recounted a funny story he had been told by one of his junior officers.

  ‘As they haven’t got enough vehicles at the aerodrome in Ukussa, the planes are being moved around the airfield by Asian elephants, with an Indian minder sitting on top of each one to guide them. However, apparently one of the elephants took a dislike to a ‘parked’ Fairey Swordfish and decided to ram into it. The minder did his very best to control the animal but to no avail and by the time he got the elephant under control again there was very little left to be salvaged from the poor old Bi-plane. Apparently, the elephant got off with a reprimand, but the plane had to be ‘put down’!’ I laughed so much that I nearly fell off my chair. Oh how I missed my dear, funny husband.

  Two whole months went by with only the occasional air letter from Duncan, and I had no idea of when he would be free to come home, so I decided to phone my parents to invite myself for Christmas, as I knew they would love to see Charlotte again. Just as I had made this decision I looked out of the window and saw a telegram boy walking up the path. Fear flooded through my whole body. Telegrams usually meant bad news.

  When I opened the telegram I burst into tears. The relief knowing that not only was my wonderful Duncan still alive, but that he was on his way home was overwhelming. I didn’t really take in the fact that the reason he was being sent home was because his leg wound had still not healed properly. All I could think of was that I would be with him again in a few days, so I rang my in-laws straightaway to tell them the good news.

  When Grandpa John answered the phone, he didn’t sound as thrilled to hear the news, as I had thought he would be. I then discovered why. He had received a long letter from Duncan telling them that he was being sent back to see a specialist, as his wound was much worse than he had let me believe and he was going to have to spend some time in hospital either in Perth or London, but wouldn’t know where until he reported to the Admiralty. ‘Stay where you are Mary. Duncan will ring us when he arrives and tell us his plans and hopefully he’ll get a week’s leave before beginning his treatment.’

  ‘What’s wrong with his leg?’ I asked.

  ‘It keeps going septic apparently, but the wound on his back has closed now, so that’s something to be thankful for, isn’t it?’ Grandpa John said quietly.

  That night I rang my parents to tell them the news, and my father told me that if Duncan had to go to hospital in London, then I should shut up the cottage and come straight back to them. Two days later, just as I was about to feed Charlotte the phone rang and it was Duncan. ‘I’m on my way Mary, I want to hold you in my arms as soon as possible, I’ll be with you in time for a late breakfast!’ He then rang off before I had a chance to say a word. I was so happy to hear his voice again that I didn’t worry that he’d hung up so quickly, and just presumed that he had to rush to catch the overnight train.

  The following morning I fed Charlotte a little earlier than usual, so that I could get the washing done before Duncan arrived. I was just about to hang it on the line when I saw a taxi pull up.

  When I opened the front door I saw Duncan struggling to get out of the taxi with a pair of crutches. He looked so pale and thin that I had to bite my lip to stop myself crying. I could tell that even with crutches, he was finding it hard to walk. I then heard him ask the taxi driver if he would carry his small overnight case to the cottage for him, which made me wonder where the rest of his luggage was.

  When Duncan saw me he smiled and as soon as we were back inside the cottage he let the crutches fall to the floor and took me in his arms. I had tears streaming down my cheeks and sobbed in his ear, ‘I’ll soon have you well again, my darling.’

  ‘Where is Charlotte?’ he asked looking around for signs of his daughter.

  ‘She’s on a rug in the sitting room,’ I laughed through my tears, ‘she likes to be free and kick her little legs in the air before I put her in her pram for a nap.’

  I handed Duncan his crutches, so that he could take himself into the sitting room to see Charlotte. As he collapsed into one of the armchairs, I noticed him wince with pain. I picked Charlotte up and put her carefully on Duncan’s lap, ‘She’s unbelievably beautiful,’ he whispered.

  ‘If she hurts your leg let me know and I will put her back on her rug,’ I told him.

  ‘It’s not my leg, it’s my wretched heel,’ he said with a sigh, ‘it’s a damn nuisance.’

  Charlotte couldn’t take her eyes off her father, and to me it looked as if she was trying to remember where she’d last seen him, even though I knew that wasn’t possible, as she’d only been hours old when he’d last held her in his arms. Then suddenly she put out a hand and patted his cheek, which was very touching until she spoilt the tender moment with a loud burp. We both laughed and then a moment later I could see tears running down Duncan’s cheeks, ‘Oh Mary, I thought I’d never live to see this day,’ he said quietly ‘I quite expected to drift in the dinghy for days, as I was a tiny blob in a very large ocean but thank God one of the other pilots eventually spotted me.’

  Duncan told me that he felt lucky, as if this had happened to him at the beginning of the war he wouldn’t have survived, because it was only after the Battle of Britain in 1941 that pilots were equipped with dinghy packs, which were attached to their parachute harness. He then told me about the terrible ordeal he had been through. ‘I had no idea of how high I was above the sea, or how fast I was falling but I hit the sea without being able to take a deep breath first, so it was obviously closer than I’d thought and it was damn cold! After I broke the surface and managed to get my breath back, I released myself from my parachute harness, got my dingy pack off and started inflating it. I had been told there were sharks in those waters, so despite being in extreme pain I clambered into that little dingy as quickly as I possibly could. I was far too tired to paddle, so I broke open the pack of my sea marker dye with the intention of releasing it into the sea to make a trail behind the dingy, which I hoped would make me be easily seen from the air but unfortunately as I tore the pack open the dye spilt all over my wound and it stung like hell. After floating for what seemed like many hours, my watch had packed in, so I had no idea how long I’d been in the water, a searching aircraft from my squadron did spot the trail left by the dye in the water and a ship was then directed to me and I was eventually rescued.’

  As Duncan slowly recounted this traumatic event, I fought back the tears, which was hard as all I wanted to do was hold him tight and never let him out of my sight again. Charlotte broke the tension by crying and I realised it must be time for her next meal. She was now having a few mouthfuls of solid food and as long as I added a little brown sugar she would eat it; if I didn’t she would spit it out in disgust.

  After feeding Charlotte, I gave her back to Duncan to hold and carried his bag up to our room, wondering whether he’d manage to get up the stairs on his crutches. When I came back downstairs, I noticed beads of sweat on Duncan’s brow so asked him if he had a fever, but he said it was just the pain and asked me if I would mind getting him a glass of water, so that he could swallow a couple of pain killers. ‘I have to take them every four hours, less sometimes, as they help ease the pain.’

  I then told him all about the Christening and how well behaved his daughter had been and how Ian had done his godfather duties so diligently, but instead of looking interested in what I was saying, he kept looking at his watch.

  ‘Are you expecting a phone call?’ I asked feeling a bit concerned.

  ‘No darling, I’m just checking the time to see how long it will be before I can take some more painkillers,’ Duncan sighed. ‘Is there a lavatory downstairs? I can’t manage to get up the stairs right now darling.’ Thankfully there was, and while
he hobbled on his crutches to go and have a pee, I finally understood why Duncan had been sent home. He was on the verge of a total collapse.

  After a light lunch, Duncan said he could heave himself up the stairs on his backside one step at a time, if I wouldn’t mind carrying his crutches for him. The painkillers must have taken effect quite quickly, as he managed to get to the top of the stairs without any difficulty, but when I went to lift his sore leg onto the bed, he pushed me away, and yelled, ‘Don’t touch it or I’ll scream!’

  Suddenly a strange sweet sickly smell hit me in the face, which I recognised immediately from my nursing days in Woking hospital. It was gangrene.

  I waited for Duncan to fall asleep and then went downstairs to ring the doctor, but it was his assistant who answered the phone, so I told her that I desperately needed to talk to the doctor as soon as possible. When I told her why, she said that the doctor would be with me in ten minutes.

  Doctor Frazer was as good as his assistant’s word, and exactly ten minutes later I saw him striding up the garden path. ‘Where is he?’ he boomed.