by Anne Bennett
It was very much later when the girls saw what was left of the city centre. By that time most of the rubble had been cleared and Lewis’s, a large department store not far from the hospital, had opened its basement to be used. Patients were being referred there, and so the three friends made their way towards the city centre, turning up Colmore Row, trying to avoid the bombs still tumbling down relentlessly, the barking guns seeming to make little impression on them.
They hurried on as fast as they could, aware that Colmore Row had taken another pounding, for rows of shops and offices were just not there any more, and when they tried to cross St Philip’s church yard and cut down along Temple Street, they couldn’t because the buildings on both sides of the road were in flames. It was the same in Bennett’s Hill and so they walked to the end of the road where the town hall and the council house were and looked to both sides. There was a collective gasp. Kate had seen a painting in the art gallery called Dante’s Inferno, and that came nowhere near what she was seeing that night. To the right of her she could see Broad Street was ablaze, but New Street to the left was a sea of flame. She felt fluttering fear assail her, and then this was overridden by blistering anger. ‘Who the bloody hell do the Germans think they are?’ she demanded. ‘How dare they do this?’
‘I dunno who they are or what they think,’ Susie said. ‘I really have no desire to try and understand a German but, unless we do what we can, there will be no city left after tonight.’
Kate nodded, but she didn’t want Sally in that hell on earth. It would be incredibly dangerous for all of them and she said, ‘Why don’t you go back to the hospital, Sally? You were really good at first aid and you might be a godsend there.’
‘Maybe,’ Sally said. ‘But I didn’t come here to dig people out of buildings. I’m not saying that it was the wrong thing to do, but it was the firemen that asked for help and it looks as if they’ll need every bit we can give them.’
‘Sally, you’re only just turned eighteen.’
‘So,’ Sally said. ‘I can’t help that and it doesn’t make me bloody helpless. Just now we are wasting time.’
‘Aren’t you the tiniest bit scared?’ Susie said. ‘Because I am shaking in my boots.’
‘Yeah,’ Sally said. ‘If you want the truth I’m bloody terrified, but that isn’t going to stop me.’
And at that Sally moved forwards towards the blazing New Street and the others had no option but to follow her. The intense heat made it feel as if they were walking into a furnace and the noise was unbelievable as the flames roared and crackled all around and in front of them, mixed with the sound of exploding bombs and the barking ack-ack guns.
Kate took over from an exhausted fireman who smelt of smoke and had a red, glistening face and singed eyebrows and fringes. But it took every ounce of Kate’s strength to hold his hose with the water powering through it. Her whole body shook as the strain was so great; within a few minutes her hot red face was bathed in perspiration, her eyes dried out so much that they smarted. She felt dribbles of sweat run down her face and her back and between her breasts.
And the terrible thing was it seemed to make no difference: however many gallons of water they sent shooting into the blazing buildings, those flames could not be vanquished. Beside them and around, the bombs fell relentlessly, as the unquenchable fire ate up building after building and street after street. Kate was filled with helplessness.
It was after eight o’clock in the morning when the ‘All Clear’ went. The girls were almost surprised that they were in one piece, for many firemen and people working for the auxiliary service had been injured and even killed that night. Many fires still burned, but they could do no more because there was no more water. They were incredibly weary as they made their way home, immensely glad that it was Good Friday and they were on holiday from work.
TWENTY-TWO
The German planes returned the next night but in far fewer numbers than the previous one. The raid didn’t last as long and the girls were more than thankful for the respite. After that there were no further raids until a short one on 17 May, and then sporadic short clashes until July. Kate did wonder if Hitler was softening them up for another massive onslaught, but after July there was nothing at all.
With no raids to fight, the ARP wardens were detailed to work with the homeless and dispossessed; there were so many of them in that damaged city. Kate felt so sorry for them, and trying to make life even a little better for them was the sort of work she loved.
Birmingham Council had eventually got their act together in dealing with the people who had lost everything in the raids and so, initially, the people who were homeless but uninjured were cared for by volunteers in rest centres, where they were supplied with clothes and food. From there, many went to one of the city’s hostels.
Because Kate had done so much work in Aston, one of the areas so badly hit by the bombing, she was pleased to be drafted in there where she met up with Trudy again. Trudy was just as pleased to see her, and she gave a big grin as she said, ‘God, I suppose it says something that we both survived and my house is still standing. How about yours?’
‘It’s fine,’ Kate said. ‘It was a near thing, though. An unexploded bomb landed in the road I back on to. If it had gone off, I would have been one of these poor souls bedding down in a church hall or something.’
‘I know,’ Trudy said. ‘It must be awful really to lose everything. Mind, the hostels are really good. The one for this area is in Bevington Road – you know, the road that runs by the side of Aston Park. That’s where I am going at the moment so come along with me and I’ll introduce you to Rita and John Taylor who run the place, because you’ll probably be working quite closely with them anyway.’
‘Yeah,’ Kate said, falling into step beside Trudy. ‘One of my jobs at the moment is helping people move into the hostel from the church halls, or wherever they‘ve been put on a temporary basis, and try and sort out any problems they might have.’
‘And some have terrible problems,’ Trudy said. ‘Especially those coping with a loss of a loved one, and though all deaths are a tragedy of course, if they have lost a child, somehow it is heartbreaking and you just want to do your level best for them.’
‘Oh, I do agree,’ Kate said. ‘I think seeing the little bodies of children killed in the raids is very upsetting. I just can’t imagine how a mother copes with that, especially when she has other children to care for and her house is gone too.’
‘Yeah and her husband is overseas, or maybe injured or dead as well.’ Trudy said. ‘We have a fair number of people in that position. I am often stunned by the way they manage to pick up their lives again. They show real courage.’
‘I’ll say.’ Kate agreed wholeheartedly.
‘Well, here we are,’ Trudy said, stopping outside a very large brick-built building on four floors. Once inside, the introductions were made speedily. Kate liked what she saw of the two no-nonsense stewards and knew that they could work well together. ‘It seems a big place,’ she said.
‘Needs to be,’ Rita said. ‘These places are built to accommodate two and a half thousand people.’
‘Golly!’
‘Well, look at all the houses destroyed,’ Rita said. ‘Whole areas laid waste, and every house knocked down had people in them, some quite big families. Even though two thousand five hundred sounds a lot, that won’t be all of them.’
‘So what happens to the others?’
‘Well, those with families with undamaged houses are usually lodged with them,’ John said. ‘And the others are billeted in ordinary houses with people willing to take them in.’ He gave a nod in Kate’s direction and added with a wry smile, ‘That will probably be something you have got to sort out as well.’
And it was, of course, but helping the families got her involved with the WVS – the Women’s Voluntary Service – because they ran clothes banks and places to obtain extra bedding and so on. Kate had always greatly admired that stalwart band of wom
en who had shown such courage in the Blitz and also provided canteen facilities for the Home Guard and for wounded soldiers at railway stations and control centres. It was one of those women who got the three girls knitting at last.
With the raids well and truly over, they began to knit in earnest. The people’s need was great and it was the sight of the poor bemused children with barely enough adequate clothes that tore at Kate’s heart, especially as the weather got colder. At first, though, she did as the others did, knitting squares to sew together for blankets. The WVS were very good at getting hold of wool, and on the nights they had no plans to go out, Susie might come round and the three of them would sit listening to a play or music or chatting and the only other sound was the clicking of the needles. They were very industrious, turning out jumpers and cardigans and later balaclavas for boys and knitted bonnets for girls, and Kate and Susie also knitted socks for their men.
‘For the first time, I was able to tell Mammy what I’ve been doing, as long as I don’t mention specific places or anything,’ Kate said one night as they sat before the fire. ‘She said it sounds good and valuable work.’
‘Does she know that I am doing the same thing?’ Sally asked.
‘Well, I tell her,’ Kate said.
‘And did she comment?’
Kate shook her head slowly and Sally said, ‘I wonder if I am really dead to her. I know she said that I was, that I wasn’t her daughter and all that, but I wonder if she ever thinks of me, even without meaning to …’
‘Well, I’ve never had kids,’ Susie said. ‘But I’m sure if I had, then I couldn’t just throw them over.’
‘I think Mammy is able to put things out of her mind if they are not straight in front of her,’ Kate said. ‘I mean, she knows I’m married to David and she knows he is in the RAF and I tell her what he has been doing, I mean as far as I can, and when he has leave I tell her all about it and what we’ve done, you know, films we’ve seen and things like that. But she never adds as much as the odd comment. In fact, she never mentions him at all, just as if he doesn’t exist.’
‘And you think that’s what she thinks of me?’ Sally said, her voice thick with unshed tears and her eyes very bright. ‘In her mind, I just don’t exist?’
‘I don’t know,’ Kate said gently. ‘It’s just that I got to thinking about it after the way she ignores any reference to David. But,’ she went on to Sally, ‘Mammy wouldn’t know you from the wee girl who came over here first. You are a grand girl now, and a very mature one, and all the experiences you’ve had to deal with, even the loss of Phil, has shaped you into the person you are now. I would be proud to have you as my daughter, and it’s Mammy’s loss that she is not willing to see this herself.’
‘It often doesn’t feel like Mammy’s loss,’ Sally said in a small voice. ‘It feels like mine.’
‘Ah, Sally,’ Susie said. ‘It is very sad, but I agree with every word that Kate said about you. Would it be any good you trying to contact your father?’
It was Kate who answered: ‘There would be no way that Daddy could get a letter that Mammy didn’t know about – and he’d hardly go against her, not in something like this. Anyway, I doubt he has ever written a letter in all his life. I mean, he can write, but he doesn’t. He leaves all of that kind of thing to Mammy.’
‘Yeah,’ Susie said, ‘I suppose Dad does the same. I mean, it’s Mom who writes to Martin and Derek, and from what I know of men, they seem to agree to a lot of things for a quiet life.’
‘So there you have it,’ Kate said. ‘Now, would anyone say no to a cup of tea?’
Kate was upset that Sally was still so distressed by her mother’s rejection.
‘Well, I don’t think that it’s something you ever really get over,’ Susie said when Kate said this on the tram on the way to work the next morning. ‘It probably rankles inside all the time and then comes to the fore every so often.’
‘Yeah,’ Kate said, ‘I think you’re right, and I think I will really have to go over and plead her case in person. Point is, though, this is not a good time to cross the Irish Sea. I think I may wait for a while.’
‘Anyway, the men will be home again before we know it,’ Susie reminded her.
‘I know,’ Kate said. ‘They’ll be here in just over a fortnight.’
‘Pity they couldn’t come for Christmas again,’ Susie said. ‘And this year there’s no Martin either. God knows where he is, but in his last letter he said that he is sweating like a pig most of the time.’
‘Lucky devil,’ Kate said, wiping the tram window with her gloved hand. There was little to see, as it was almost as black as night, but Kate knew it was cold. It was the sort of damp, clammy cold that set fingers and toes tingling after a few minutes, and if she should try to speak, the cold would catch in her throat and whispery trails would seep from her mouth.
‘Dad said Martin should watch what he’s writing down.’
‘What about Derek?’
‘He gives no hint,’ Susie said. ‘Course, he writes more to Gillian, but he can’t tell her much either. She hasn’t seen him in absolutely ages. I do feel sorry for her. We are lucky to see ours so often.’
‘I know,’ Kate said. ‘They’ll be here on Friday evening and we’ll have two full days because they haven’t got to report back until midday on Monday, 8 December. Hey, come on,’ she said, leaping to her feet, ‘this is our stop and we’ll go sailing past the factory if we’re not careful.’
It was truly lovely having David home, though the weather was filthy. Saturday morning there was a light drizzle falling, and that turned to a downpour by the afternoon. Kate watched the drops of rain bouncing on the pavement and said, ‘I think we will have to postpone our trip to the Bull Ring. There’s no pleasure going on a day like this. Are you very disappointed?’
David was sitting on the settee and didn’t speak, but he smiled the smile that made Kate feel weak at the knees and, stretching out one arm, he pulled her on to the seat beside him. As they snuggled together, he said, ‘This is what I enjoy. Letters are not the same – though don’t you ever stop writing them because they often make me laugh and they make being away from you just about bearable – but there is no substitute for the real thing; and at the moment my happiness is nearly complete.’
‘Nearly complete.’
David drew Kate closer and, when their lips met, Kate felt as if there was liquid gold running through her veins. ‘Let’s go to bed,’ David whispered in her ear.
‘Sally might be back at any time,’ Kate said. ‘You know she’s only gone to see her friend.’
‘So what if she does come back?’ David said. ‘She’s no longer a child. She will know better than to disturb us if we are in bed with the door shut.’
‘She might guess what we are doing.’
David gave a chuckle. ‘I should imagine that she will have a very good idea.’
‘Yes, well …’
‘Well what?’ David said, and for a second he watched Kate as she bit her lip in consternation. Then he got to his feet and pulled her up beside him. ‘I need my wife beside me in bed now,’ he said with a grin. ‘And,’ he added, ‘I will stand no nonsense.’
Kate’s eyes met David’s. She knew that she could deny him no longer, especially when her own body was trembling in delicious anticipation, and she gave a nod and took David’s hand in hers.
Sunday was as bad as Saturday, but Kate and David had been asked up to Sunday dinner with the Masons. Mary seemed to be able to work magic with the rations, and after a mouth-watering rabbit casserole, they had something she called Norfolk pudding, which was like a rice pudding with currants, sultanas and candied peel, and nutmeg sprinkled on the top. It was delicious.
After the meal had been cleared away, they decided to play cards and Susie put the wireless on low because there was dance music on. They played pontoon and then whist and were just starting on rummy when David suddenly said, ‘Ssh,’ and turned the volume up on the wireless. The prog
ramme had been interrupted with a newsflash, and so they learnt of the Japanese attack on the American fleet anchored in Pearl Harbor.
‘God!’ Frank said. ‘America will have to be pulled in now.’
‘What’s Japan done that for anyway?’ Nick said. ‘I thought they were at war with China.’
‘Maybe they are,’ Frank said. ‘But, whichever way you look at it, that was a bloody aggressive, unprovoked act. Just think how many poor servicemen will have lost their lives. America must answer that, and really the only answer is war.’
‘Good job we are going back tomorrow,’ David said. ‘If we weren’t, we might have been recalled anyway.’
‘Why?’ Kate cried. ‘This isn’t our war. It’s America’s.’
‘The Japanese will be making for Singapore.’
‘Well, if they do, they won’t find that easy to take,’ Frank said confidently. ‘Singapore is impregnable.’
‘It could just be that it will be our job to see that Singapore stays that way,’ David said and then, seeing the look on Kate’s face, he went on: ‘Course, our squadron might not be involved at all, but they are going to need air cover from somewhere. That really goes without saying.’
The words hung in the air and suddenly Kate wanted to be at home, within her own four walls, and have her husband to herself for the few hours he had left, but of course they couldn’t just leave like that and anyway David didn’t seem to feel the same urgency as she did. Susie knew how she felt, though, and Kate saw from her eyes that she was apprehensive and unnerved too, but she gave an almost imperceptible shrug as David dealt out the cards for rummy.
The wireless remained on and their card game was punctuated by newsflashes, each one worse than the one before. Then came a report that shocked them to the core: of an aerial attack on Singapore that had begun just a little while after the assault on Pearl Harbor had started. The cards were left on the table as they all listened avidly to the reports of the continual bombardment that in the end took out nearly all Singapore’s frontline planes. ‘The armies will have no aerial support,’ Nick said, aghast.