by Griff Hosker
"I think she frightened him off."
"Doris is all right. The trouble is she has seen too many American films. She is desperate for an Errol Flynn or Clark Gable to sweep her off her feet and take her to his home in America. She can't cope with the rationing."
"I confess you do seem like an odd couple."
The waiter brought the wine and poured some for me to taste. It was fine and I nodded. When we both had full glasses I raised mine. "Here is to my first date. Let us hope I don't make a mess of it!"
She touched my glass with hers and said, "As it is only my second I will drink to that." She sipped the wine cautiously and then smiled. "Like port but not thick and cloying."
"It is one of Mum's favourite wines."
"Your mum drinks wine?" I nodded. "Does she work? My Mum helps out in the village shop now."
"No, Mum was a nurse in the Great War and we live in a small village too. We don't have a village shop."
We small talked about our homes and our families through the pâté and the soup. She had never had pâté before but said it was like her mum's homemade meat paste. I discovered that she had a brother who was serving in the navy aboard a corvette in the North Atlantic. Her dad had been wounded in the war and was a handyman. By the time the main course arrived I felt easy in her company. We finished the main course. A group of Americans had come in and were loudly ordering. I leaned forward to speak to Susan, "That was better than I could have hoped for in war time England. How about a dessert?"
"Normally I wouldn't but why not?"
I was about to wave the waiter over when the spiv wandered over. I could smell him before I saw him. He reeked of cheap cologne, hair cream and cigarettes. He was a Cockney, "Nah then sir I can see that you and your little lady are a lovely couple. Can I interest you in a ring?"
I looked around and saw him close up. He was in his twenties and I wondered why he had not been called up. He had all the affectations of a minor criminal: the pencil moustache, wide lapelled suit and gold watch. He had in his hand a tray of rings which he had produced from under his jacket.
I spoke even before I saw the look of distaste on Susan's face, "No thank you. We are quite all right."
"Nah, come on sir! A smartly dressed officer like yourself. If you can afford a tailored uniform then a ring should be no bother. I'll do you a special deal!"
I turned so that I faced him, "We are not going to buy a ring from you so go away and peddle your wares elsewhere."
I had not spoken loudly but we had attracted the attention of the other diners. The room had gone silent and the American officers all stared.
I could see that the spiv was not happy at the attention. He hissed, "You think you are so high and mighty with your medals and your Commando flash. You wanna watch it mate! That's all. You just watch it!"
He turned and stormed back to his table. The Americans nodded approvingly. "Do you want to go now?"
Susan smiled, "No, that would look as though he had driven us out. I will have dessert. Apple pie and custard sounds wonderful."
The waiter came over and I ordered two and two coffees.
She stared over my shoulder as the spiv and his lady friend left. "I can't stand those types. I had never seen one until I came to London and they are on every street corner. It makes me so angry when I hear of brave lads being killed for this country and here, in London, these criminals get away with... well all sorts. I bet those rings were stolen."
I nodded, "Or worse, taken from dead bodies." She put her hand to her mouth and I regretted my words instantly. "Sorry. That was crass of me!"
She shook her head. "No you are probably right. I just hadn't thought of that. It just makes me even more proud of the way you stood up to him."
I laughed, "I don't think our greasy friend would have been a problem."
When we had eaten and the waiter had delivered the bill the head waiter came over and said, quietly, "I would watch out for that man, sir. Joe Cameron is a dangerous man. He has thugs who work for him."
I suddenly realised that this Joe Cameron had not paid when he left. I had heard of this sort of thing. "And the owner has to pay protection is that it?"
The head waiter shrugged, "It makes life easier and the police have enough to do. When the war is over..."
I gave him some notes, "You shouldn't have to."
"I will get your change."
I shook my head, "Keep it. We both enjoyed the meal. Although I am not certain when we will be back."
He waved over the waiter who brought our coats and hats. "You take care sir. We want a restaurant filled with officers like you after the war and not..."
I nodded, "Quite!"
One of the Americans came over. I saw that he, too, was a Captain. I saw his shoulder flash identified him as the 1st Infantry Division. "Can I just shake you by the hand? I have heard what you guys do and from the medals on your chest you don't hang back. I'll be glad when we get into this little fray."
I shook his proffered hand. "I met some of your chaps in Sicily; Darby's Rangers. They did very well. I am sure you will do fine. It is good to have some allies at last. It has just been us, the Russians and the Commonwealth for some time."
He nodded, "Believe you me there were plenty guys back home who felt the same." He looked beyond me. "Say do you and your young lady need any help? That guy did not look pleasant. There might be some trouble."
"He wasn't very pleasant was he but I think we will be fine. Just so long as I keep upwind of him!" I laughed, "We are not quite the Wild West!"
He shook his head. "I love your British sense of humour."
The rain had not relented and for that I was pleased. Susan pulled in even tighter to me. She had chosen the restaurant because it was close to her barracks and we just had four streets to negotiate. Susan seemed very happy. "And to think you were in Italy not long ago! I bet you would like to swap right now!"
I leaned in more, "Right now I wouldn't wish to be anywhere else."
"Sweet!"
We had just turned into the narrow street which led to the barracks when three figures stepped out. One of them was Joe Cameron and the other two looked like his thugs. Although I had had a couple of glasses of wine and I was relaxed the Commando in me made me alert to danger in an instant. I moved Susan behind me and, stepping forward, began to gauge the opposition. This was not a friendly meeting.
I had correctly judged Joe Cameron; he was the boss. He allowed his two thugs to come forward. Both were in their twenties. Although they had the gnarled faces of two men who had been in fights I was not intimidated.
The spiv said, "You should have shown me more respect soldier boy! You showed me up in front of my woman and I can't have that. People were laughing; they were only Yanks but that makes no difference. The lads are going to teach you a lesson and then we will just lift your wallet as payment of dues for coming on my manor." I said nothing. I was weighing up which one would strike first. I saw the one to my left preparing his fist. He was wearing a knuckle duster. I took the glove off my right hand. The spiv saw it as a sign of weakness. "Frightened of damaging your glove eh? Get him boys and do him over good!"
The one on the left swung, as I had expected at my head. I stepped back and pushed his arm away with my left hand. I then punched him hard, twice in the ribs. I heard one crack. I punched him under the chin with my forearm and his skull cracked into the face of the other.
I stepped back and said, "Now go away boys before you get hurt!"
Joe Cameron snarled, "No more mister nice guy. Charlie, use your knife!"
Charlie pulled out a knife and moved his dazed friend to the side. As he lunged at my throat Susan took a whistle from her handbag and began to blow it. It did distract Charlie somewhat although I knew what I was doing anyway. As he lunged I grabbed his arm, turned into him and threw him over my shoulder. He sailed through the air and landed on his back.
"Harry! Use your knife!" I heard the panic in Cameron's voice. I was a
lso dimly aware of voices approaching from behind.
As Harry pulled out his knife I turned and stamped on Charlie's right hand. I broke every bone in his hand. Harry was wise to my ju jitsu throw and he was more cautious. What he did not expect, as he stepped forward, was for me to raise my heel and stamp at the knee of his leading, right leg. It folding back unnaturally and he fell to the ground, screaming in pain. I had no idea who was coming behind me but before I could turn Joe Cameron tried to run. As I pulled back my fist he pulled out a flick knife and slashed at my eyes. I ducked and hit him with every ounce of strength I had. He smoked and was unfit. I hit him squarely in the solar plexus and he fell to the ground, gasping for air like a stranded fish.
I turned to take on the next attackers and saw a policeman and an ARP warden.
"What the...?" The policeman stopped as Joe Cameron raised his head. "Joe Cameron! You finally bit off more than you could chew eh?"
Susan said, "They attacked us! They had knives!"
I knelt down and took out the box of rings. "I think these may be stolen property, Constable."
"You may well be right, sir." He began to laugh as the two thugs tried to rise. "And I have waited many a year to see you two cut down to size."
I said, "Will I have to come to the station, Constable?"
He looked at me and smiled, "I don't think so, sir. This looks pretty clear cut to me. We have found three criminals with stolen property. It looks like they fell from that wall. It was just fortunate that we happened to be here eh Reg?"
The ARP warden said, happily, "Propitious I should say, Fred. We can get them to hospital and then lock them up!"
The Constable saluted, "Have a pleasant evening, sir and I am sorry that you had to run into scum like this."
I nodded, "I have run into their type before. The difference was they were wearing grey uniforms with SS on their shoulders! And Constable, in case you didn't know, this piece of... well this chap has been taking protection money from the local businesses."
The Constable's face hardened, "That explains a lot. Thanks again sir."
Susan took my arm and we hurried down the street, "Where did you get the whistle?"
"Dad was worried about London. He got it off a bobby friend of his. It came in handy."
"It certainly did."
"Not that you needed it. Three men with knives and you don't have a mark on you."
I held up my grazed right knuckle. "Not quite unscathed but I have had worse."
She laughed and threw her arms around my neck. She pulled down my head and kissed me full on the lips. I felt as though I had touched an electric cable. I stepped back. She looked afraid, "What's wrong?"
I shook my head, "I have never been kissed before!"
"And?"
In answer I grabbed her and kissed her back. I think we would have spent hours there had not the ambulance for the injured criminals come hurtling past. "I had better get back, Tom. The Wild West will be waiting!"
I did not want to go but I knew we had to. There was a sentry at the gate and our farewell had to be perfunctory. Her eyes were wide and I saw the hint of tears. "When will I see you again?"
"I am back to Falmouth in the morning."
She nodded and bit her lip, "Will you write to me? I mean you don't have to but..."
"Of course I will but you should know that sometimes I can't write because..."
"Because you are behind enemy lines and risking your life. I know. I finally find a man I can love and find that he has the most dangerous job in England." She shook her head, "It's not fair!"
"'A man I can love', is that what you said?"
"Of course, silly! You don't think I kiss a man like that all the time!"
The sentry coughed, "Sorry miss, but Sergeant West will be out soon and she will chew me out as well as you."
I nodded, "I will write and Lieutenant Ferguson has my address."
She kissed me and stepped back, "Have you nothing to say?"
"You know exactly how I feel, don't you?"
She nodded, "I know but a girl likes to hear it."
I looked at the grinning sentry and said, "Well I do." It was then we heard Sergeant West shouting at someone in the building and, with a teary wave, Susan ran into the building.
As I headed back to the flat I wondered at the wisdom of this. My life had been dangerous enough before. Now I would be going into battle worrying that I might die. Auntie Alice and Charlie had been where I was and then Charlie had been killed. Would I be sentencing Susan to such a life? Any joy I had had in the evening evaporated by the time I reached the flat.
Major Foster was relieved when I told him what had happened. He had assumed the worst. "You can't avoid liking people just because there is a war on, Tom. Your Dad and your Mum fell in love during a war. You and Mary are the proof, aren't you? I think I know you well enough to know that it won't make any difference to you. You have this ability to be cold and detached when you need to be. I saw it in Belgium. You still have it. I personally think this is the best thing to have happened to you."
Chapter 7
There would be no Christmas leave that year. Everyone knew there would be an invasion some time in 1944. I had a better idea than most but even Mrs Dean had an opinion. There were huge American camps all over Southern England and it was rumoured that a whole village in Devon, Slapton, had been evacuated to accommodate the Americans who used it to practise landings. I had to put Susan to the back of my mind for I had too much planning and training to occupy me. The German lessons were a priority. We discovered that the best time for such lessons were first thing in the morning. We would then have our run which seemed to be more enjoyable after the classroom. We then used the time after our evening meal to practise some more. Mrs Dean and Reg joined us.
"You never know, after the war is over we might get German visitors. I shall need paying customers once you lads go."
Scouse had said, "I can't see Jerry coming over here Mrs Dean."
"You never know."
It seemed slow at first but they were all willing. That was one advantage of having such a settled team. It became fun and that was always the best way to learn. Now that the whole brigade was together I was joined by other officers. Captain Marsden was an old friend and he took to running back, each night to our digs. His was just four houses away. We had found that running was more efficient if you talked as you ran. It kept your breathing steady.
You don't appear your normal cheerful self these days, John."
He shook his head, "It is some of these new chaps. They have widened the net for volunteers and, I think, lowered the standard."
I had heard this myself. "I think you might be right. The Marines look to be getting the better volunteers."
"Perhaps that is no bad thing given the new role we have. We will be landing with all the other units."
"True but we will be the first in and that is always the most dangerous." As we ran I learned more about the problems he was having with his section. I began to feel guilty; mine were perfect.
We had been training with our men separately but, as December drew to a close and the weather became worse we were sent to Devon to join the Americans and practise landings. We were each given a lorry to travel down. I sat in the front with Gordy and Bill Hay, the recently promoted Lance Sergeant. Sergeant Poulson rode in the rear.
"This could be messy, sir."
"Perhaps Gordy but it needs to be done. We need to learn how to go in with other landing craft. It won't just be us this time."
"But the weather sir! Its freezing cold and the rain is slashing down! We wouldn't land in weather like this!"
Bill Hay was a thoughtful sort. He liked to listen a lot but when he spoke he was worth listening to. "I think you are right Sarge but it might be that we have to go in when the weather is marginal. If we go in just using good weather that could be a disaster." Barker nodded. "Besides the bad weather stops Jerry coming over and making a nuisance of himself."
>
"Would they do that, sir?"
"Everyone knows there is an army gathering ready to invade. If you were Jerry wouldn't you like to spoil the party? I think Hay is right. This weather is a boon!"
We were given tents when we arrived. For my lads that was no hardship. We had slept out in the desert, snow and rain. Captain Marsden had a problem with his men. Ken Curtis was his Troop Sergeant. He had been with me until he had been promoted. Their section had arrived first and he was allocating their tents as we pulled up. Captain Marsden was nowhere to be seen. I suspect he had gone to arrange food. He knew the value of a hot meal. Whatever the reason for his absence Ken was having to deal with some truculent Commandos.
"I am just saying, Sarge that this isn't right! We should have some Nissen huts! We'll freeze our bits off tonight and the ground is sodden! How will we keep it clean? King's Regulations say that we should be given decent accommodation. This is not fit for animals, Sarge."
"Osborne, you are a whinging barrack room lawyer. Why in God's name did you join the Commandos?"
"For the extra money of course Sarge!"
I stepped out of the lorry. In the dark my pips could not be seen. They all snapped to attention. "Is there a problem here, Sergeant Curtis?"
"No sir. Some of the men wondered why we were using tents instead of huts. I was about to explain."
I looked at the ring leader of the objectors. I recognised him as one of the two recruits I had seen getting out of that car at the camp. He was a big man and a cigarette hung from his lip. He had a sneer on his face. I had heard of his type before. They knew every regulation and used them to their own advantage. They were neither fair nor reasonable. There were increasingly more of them for they were latecomers to this war. My section had all been in from the start.
I turned to Sergeant Curtis. "The day we have to explain why a man should obey orders is the day we start to lose this war." I turned to Private Osborne. I pointed to the tent. "Those are your quarters. Far from being fit for a pig they will be fit for His Majesty should he wish to visit and you, Private Osborne, will keep that tent immaculate." He stared at me and I saw his eyes narrow. "And take that cigarette from your mouth. I don't recall Sergeant Curtis giving you permission to smoke!" My days as a Sergeant were not forgotten. I saw him slightly ball his fists. This man was a bully. I stepped in close. "Get rid of that cigarette and unclench your hands or I will have you on a charge so fast that your feet won't touch the ground."