The Girls Who Went to War

by Duncan Barrett

  ‘Yes, of course,’ Kathleen replied. ‘What are you doing here, Konrad?’

  ‘I was in the Luftwaffe,’ he replied. ‘My comrades and I were sent to join the Army in Libya and I was taken prisoner there. Three years ago, we were brought over to England.’

  Kathleen could scarcely believe it. All this time Konrad had been living only a couple of miles away from her mother’s house. She thought back to the kindness his parents had shown her when she visited them, and how Konrad’s father had rushed her to the Dutch border just in time for her to return to England. ‘When you get home, do give your parents my regards,’ she told him warmly.

  A shadow fell over Konrad’s face and he stared at Kathleen with sorrowful eyes. When he spoke, his voice sounded different. ‘My family are dead,’ he told her. ‘Your people killed them. My mother, my father, my brothers. You smashed everything we had to pieces. There is no home any more.’

  Kathleen was shocked. ‘I’m so sorry, Konrad,’ she replied, unsure what else to say. She was deeply saddened to hear that his family had been killed, especially since they had been so kind to her. But didn’t he know that the Germans had bombed her country too?

  The young man clearly had no wish to talk further. He turned around and went to join the other prisoners before Kathleen could even say goodbye.

  Although Kathleen’s family had been lucky enough to survive the war, they were gradually beginning to scatter. Her brother Cecil had decided to take up the Australian Government on their post-war immigration scheme and become a ‘ten-pound pom’, leaving Britain for a new life Down Under. Mrs Skin had begun to get itchy feet too, and before long she was on a boat for South Africa, hoping to reconnect with her family there. Meanwhile, Kathleen’s sister Lila had married a Norwegian sailor she’d met while stationed with the Navy at Scapa Flow, and they were planning to emigrate to the United States.

  Kathleen’s own long-awaited wedding, however, was still on hold. She had assumed that after he was demobbed, Arnold would go back to his pre-war job selling furniture at a department store in London, and they would be able to see each other more frequently as they began to plan the big day. But he turned out to have something else in mind. ‘I’m going to stay in Germany for a while and work on the reconstruction,’ he told her in a letter. ‘There’s lots of work for ex-servicemen here.’

  Kathleen was disappointed that Arnold’s decision meant they would be parted even longer, but at least, she reasoned, he would be earning good money. The sooner they scraped together enough to put down a deposit on a flat, the sooner they could start their life together.

  In the meantime, Kathleen had her teacher training to focus on. Before long she was off to Warrington to begin her course, living in nearby student accommodation. Thanks to the teacher shortage caused by the war, most of her fellow recruits were older than the usual trainees, and like her many of them had already spent years in the services. The instructors, used to handling young people fresh out of school or university, struggled to assert their authority over this new cohort, who balked at some of the rules, especially when they were told they had to be in by 10 p.m. every night. ‘I’ve been fighting a war,’ one of the men remarked. ‘No one’s going to tell me when I’m supposed to be tucked up in bed!’

  As it turned out, Kathleen was able to provide a crafty solution for her fellow students. Her bedroom backed onto an alleyway which ran along the back of the accommodation block, which meant that anyone who wanted to stay out past the curfew could get into the building by climbing through her window, without having to use the main gate. Although this meant that her room was essentially a thoroughfare any time up until about 1 a.m., she was willing to pay the price in order to keep her new friends out of trouble.

  By the time Christmas rolled around, it was time for the trainees to have a go at teaching for real. They went to a nearby school, where Kathleen watched as, one by one, her fellow students struggled with the task of commanding a whole classroom of children. Some overreacted to any disobedience and became tyrannical, throwing their weight around in an attempt to gain authority, while others couldn’t assert themselves at all and simply crumbled when put in front of a class.

  When Kathleen’s turn came she was relieved to find that she had been assigned to a relatively young age group, who all seemed rather sweet and quiet. She enjoyed the experience of teaching them, and quickly formed a good relationship with the class.

  But while discipline didn’t seem to be an issue, what Kathleen found harder to deal with was the evident poverty of the children. The whole country was experiencing a tough period of austerity, and for these kids it had clearly begun to bite. One little blond boy sat wearing a ripped jumper over a stringy old vest, and a pair of hand-me-down trousers cut off at the knees to fit his short legs. Instead of shoes, he had only wooden clogs, which he wore without socks, and the skin on his feet had been rubbed raw.

  But despite his pitiable appearance, the boy seemed cheerful, and when Kathleen asked the class if they would like her to tell them a story, his little face lit up. ‘Please, Miss,’ he called out, ‘can we ’ave the one wiv the lad an’ the cow?’

  ‘I’m not sure I know that,’ Kathleen replied, casting a quick glance at the boy’s regular teacher.

  ‘He means Jesus in the manger,’ the other woman whispered.

  Dutifully, Kathleen launched into the nativity story. The boys and girls sat attentively as she told them all about the bright star in the night sky, and the wise men and the shepherds visiting baby Jesus.

  At the end of the class, Kathleen went up to the teacher and asked her about the little blond boy. ‘It’s terrible, isn’t it?’ the other woman told her. ‘He comes in like that every morning, and he’s never had a bite to eat. I’ve started sending him home with sandwiches and cake, so at least he has something for his supper.’

  Kathleen felt more strongly than ever that she had found the right profession.

  With her course coming to an end, and Arnold’s stint in Germany almost over, Kathleen was looking forward to the day when they would finally be reunited back in England. So she was a little surprised to receive a letter from her fiancé announcing that he was moving to Switzerland instead. His parents had recently retired to his father’s hometown of Zurich, and Arnold himself had been offered a job with an airline in Geneva. It was an excellent opportunity, he said, and he didn’t want to go back to his old life selling furniture. ‘There’s an Anglican church near my apartment that would be perfect for a wedding,’ he added.

  Kathleen felt excited by the idea of moving abroad, and she was sure there would be an English-speaking school in Geneva where she could get a teaching job. Most importantly, the wedding plans finally seemed to be going somewhere – all they needed to do now was settle on a date. She wrote back and told Arnold that as soon as her course was over she would come and visit him, and they could discuss the arrangements for the big day. She would be bringing one of her teacher training friends with her, a girl called Peggy, who had agreed to be her maid of honour.

  Arnold wrote back full of enthusiasm for the idea, and promising to take Kathleen and her friend to the best restaurant in Geneva when they visited. Since it wouldn’t seem proper for the girls to sleep at an unmarried man’s apartment, they arranged that they would stay with his parents in Zurich, and come over on the train for the day to see him.

  As they boarded the plane at London’s new Heathrow Airport, Kathleen and Peggy were full of excitement. Peggy was thrilled at the prospect of flying for the first time, and Kathleen was in high spirits too, convinced that when she came back from Switzerland she would finally have a date for the wedding. She was also looking forward to catching up with her future in-laws, who had been so kind to her when she was doing her driver’s training in London.

  The Karlens’ new flat was very near the airport, and when the girls arrived they served them a delicious dinner. Arnold’s mother was as friendly as ever and seemed keen to do all she could to ensure
the two young women were comfortable. But there was a stiffness to her manner that Kathleen hadn’t noticed before, almost as if she felt awkward around her.

  In fact, when she came to think about it, the whole family were acting a little strangely. Arnold’s younger brother was also visiting at the time and kept making odd remarks that Kathleen couldn’t quite make sense of. ‘Every time I go to Geneva I have to take more baby clothes with me,’ he told his parents over dinner, casting a meaningful look in her direction. But no one picked up on the strange comment, and the conversation soon turned to something else.

  The following day, the two girls caught the train to Geneva. It was a journey of almost three hours, and for Kathleen – who was desperate to be reunited with her fiancé – every one of them felt like days. At long last they pulled into the Gare de Cornavin, where Arnold was waiting on the platform.

  Kathleen rushed over to him, and he swept her up in his arms. ‘My darling!’ he exclaimed. ‘It’s been so long.’ Before she had a chance to reply they were locked in a passionate kiss.

  ‘This is my friend Peggy,’ Kathleen told him, once she had prised her lips away from his.

  Arnold turned to the young woman, and took her hand. ‘Delighted to meet you,’ he said, as charming as ever. Then he turned back to Kathleen. ‘I’ve booked us in for dinner at a fabulous restaurant in the Cologny district,’ he told her. ‘I know you’re going to love it. But first why don’t you two come to my apartment for a drink?’

  Kathleen felt her fiancé slide his arm around her waist. Gently, he led her along the platform, while Peggy followed a couple of steps behind. Even after so long apart, it was easy to slip back into their old familiarity. And yet, just as everything felt exactly as it always had before, something about him was different. Perhaps it was just that he seemed more worldly, which she supposed was to be expected – after all, he had led a hundred men into battle, with all the triumphs and horrors that entailed. But his appearance had altered subtly as well – he didn’t just look older, but held himself differently too. Looking back, Kathleen felt that the Arnold she had got engaged to had been little more than a boy in comparison, but she liked this new Arnold, who was strong as well as charming. She felt she would be utterly safe with him.

  The two girls got into Arnold’s car, and soon they were speeding through the streets of Geneva. Before long they arrived at a smart modern building, and Arnold led them up a few flights of stairs. He opened the door and gestured for the girls to enter, but as they stepped into the open-plan living area, all three of them suddenly froze, rooted to the spot in astonishment. In the middle of the room, sitting in a metal bathtub, was a young woman with jet black hair – and she was completely naked.

  Kathleen glanced over at Arnold and saw his face contort with fury. ‘I told you to get out of here!’ he yelled at the girl in the tub. Kathleen had never seen him angry before and it scared her.

  The girl quickly grabbed a towel, gathered up her things and rushed out into the corridor, muttering some kind of an apology to Arnold in French.

  Looking rather shaken, Arnold gestured Kathleen and Peggy towards a couple of sofas. ‘I’m sorry about that,’ he said, as he turned his back to fix them a couple of drinks. ‘She’s one of the stewardesses from work and I said she could use the bath.’

  By the time he brought the drinks over, and came to sit down next to Kathleen, he was cool and collected once more, asking them all about their journey as if nothing had happened. Kathleen was too stunned to know what to say. In her embarrassment she couldn’t bear to acknowledge what she had just seen, so she just answered Arnold’s questions and did her best to smile. Much as she wanted to give her fiancé the benefit of the doubt, the explanation he had given hadn’t sounded very convincing. But then, she reasoned, he had been on his own for a long time. So what if there had been other girlfriends? Kathleen was the one he was planning to marry, and once they were together for ever, all that would be in the past.

  When the girls had finished their drinks, Arnold took them out for dinner at the classy restaurant he had mentioned. It was the most stylish and elegant establishment Kathleen had ever been to in her life, and she gazed in awe at the chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, the little orchestra playing in the corner, and the women dressed in dinner gowns, adorned with furs and pearls. She had worn her best dress for the occasion, but now it suddenly seemed rather shabby and she couldn’t help feeling awkward surrounded by such rich people.

  Arnold, however, was in his element, confident and self-assured. He chose the wine and helped the girls pick out the fish they wanted from a huge tank, to be taken into the kitchen and cooked by the five-star chef. As they ate, he discoursed on every topic under the sun – apart, that is, from the one subject Kathleen had come to Geneva to talk about: their wedding. Every time there was a lull in the conversation, she hoped that he would turn to their forthcoming nuptials, but again and again he moved on to discuss the state of the airline industry, or the reconstruction efforts in Germany, or the weather.

  Kathleen felt too embarrassed to bring up the topic herself – after talking so confidently to Peggy on the journey over about how they were finally going to set the date, she couldn’t bear to be seen to nag Arnold about it now.

  After dinner the three of them went back to Arnold’s flat. When they arrived, he turned to look at Peggy. ‘You know, there’s a beautiful arcade just down the street from here,’ he told her. ‘You could go and look around the shops while Kath and I have a little chat.’ Kathleen could feel his arm sliding down behind her on the sofa. Something about the way he moved let her know that he wanted her.

  Peggy shot Kathleen a concerned look. ‘No, I think perhaps I should stay,’ she said, clearly embarrassed.

  ‘I really need to talk to Kathleen alone,’ Arnold replied, a little testily. ‘But if you don’t want to go out, why don’t you stay here and we’ll go for a drive together?’

  ‘It’s all right, we can talk here,’ Kathleen told him. ‘Let’s just go in the next room if you want to say something in private.’

  Arnold led Kathleen into the bedroom, and she waited to see what he was going to say. But instead of talking he pulled her into another passionate embrace. ‘I love you, darling,’ he told her, sweeping her up in his arms. ‘You know that, don’t you?’ She could feel his hands moving all over her body.

  But to Kathleen, it just didn’t feel right any more, and she wriggled free from his embrace.

  ‘What is it, darling?’ he asked her.

  ‘The wedding,’ Kathleen replied defiantly. ‘Why haven’t you talked about the wedding?’

  ‘Don’t worry, my darling,’ Arnold told her. ‘The wedding will happen in good time.’

  ‘No,’ Kathleen told him. ‘I’ve been waiting long enough already. Why can’t we get married now?’

  ‘I’m afraid I haven’t had a moment to look into the arrangements,’ he said. ‘But as soon as I do, I promise I’ll write to you.’

  ‘Arnold, you know I’ve been waiting for you – I’ve been faithful to you – all these years,’ Kathleen said. She felt like asking, ‘Have you been faithful to me too?’ but then the image of the girl in the bath flashed into her mind.

  Arnold was silent for a moment. ‘Why should we wait any longer?’ Kathleen asked him imploringly. ‘What’s in the way?’

  But to that question he didn’t seem to have an answer. ‘I’d better take you back to the station,’ he replied, the passion suddenly cooled. ‘You don’t want to miss your train.’

  The short drive back to the station passed in awkward silence. As the girls got out, Peggy whispered to Kathleen, ‘I think it’s a good thing we’re going. I can’t make out what the matter is, but something here isn’t right.’

  On the railway platform, Kathleen and Arnold said a brief goodbye before he turned and walked away. But just as the two girls were about to get onto the train, Kathleen noticed a young woman with blonde curly hair striding up to them. She was w
earing a smart fawn coat and ordinarily would have been considered pretty, but right now her eyes were narrowed in rage. For some reason, Kathleen couldn’t help thinking of Medusa.

  ‘Is one of you Kathleen?’ the woman demanded in a heavy Swiss accent.

  Kathleen nodded slightly, and the woman fixed her with a look of purest hatred. ‘You leave my husband alone!’ she spat at her.

  ‘Your husband?’ Kathleen repeated, confused.

  ‘Yes, my husband,’ the woman replied slowly, as if she was talking to an imbecile. ‘Don’t you know Arnold and I have a child together?’

  For a moment, Kathleen stood rooted to the spot, feeling as if the wind had been knocked out of her. She couldn’t speak, could barely think even, so she just stared at the woman, dumbstruck, as the horrifying truth washed over her. All her years of love and devotion had been for nothing. Arnold had played her for a fool.

  Kathleen felt a hand on her arm. ‘We’ve got to go,’ Peggy was telling her, pulling her gently towards the open door of the train. She allowed herself to be guided inside, barely conscious of what was happening.

  Slowly, the train began to pull away, but Kathleen’s eyes remained fixed on the platform. The woman with the blonde hair had stormed off, and in the entrance to the station she could see Arnold standing alone, as motionless as a statue. Kathleen continued to watch as the little figure shrank to the size of a pinprick, and then he was gone for ever.

  That night, the girls stayed once again with Arnold’s parents in Zurich. When they arrived, Kathleen was too upset to talk to them, and she shut herself away in the bedroom, leaving Peggy to explain what had happened. But she knew she had to face them eventually, and after a few hours she emerged from her room.

  Now that the secret was out, Mr and Mrs Karlen seemed relieved, and their former awkwardness was replaced with pity. ‘I’m so sorry for what has happened,’ Arnold’s mother told Kathleen. ‘I could barely believe it of my own son. I’ve never been so embarrassed in all my life.’