by David Hockey
The Round Loaf
David Hockey
Copyright 2016 David Hockey
Also by David Hockey:
Developing a Universal Religion:
Why one is Needed and
How it might be Developed
Sam's Dream
Bob of Small End
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The Round Loaf
Chapter One. Monday July 22, 1940
Jack skidded his bike to a stop, leaned it against the hedge that ran along the front of the farm’s yard and ran to the kitchen door. He knocked and waited until Mrs. Forester, one floury hand holding a towel, opened it.
“Hello Jack. Come to see Bob? He’s collecting the eggs. Shouldn’t be long. You can help him if you like.”
“Okay, thanks. I’ll do that.”
He ran along the path that crossed the back garden to a gate that led into a field. Two hen houses were to the right of the gate; Bob was shutting the hatch to one of the nest boxes. Four trays holding eggs lay on the ground beside him.
“Hi Bob. Tide’s out right now. It’s time to have another look.”
“Oh, hello Jack. Okay. We’ll go as soon as I’ve taken these in. Can you take two of the trays?”
Once inside the kitchen Mrs. Forester said, “Put them on the side table Jack. I’ll check them when the bread’s in the pans. Now, Bob, don’t be late home. You’ve got to help your dad with the pigs after lunch.”
“I know, mum.”
“And keep together. Don’t want anything happening to either of you.”
“Okay mum. ‘Bye.”
They walked across the yard to the far side of the barn and followed the hedge that separated two fields heading towards a small wood that lay between Mr. Forester’s farm and the sea.
“What did your mum mean when she said she doesn’t want anything to happen to us Bob?”
“Ah, she’s afraid that the Jerry pilot will be hanging around here. I told her he’d be far away by now. He was downed three days ago.”
“Where would he go?”
“To a collaborator somewhere or he might have pinched a boat and rowed out to sea. Any letters from your dad?”
“No, not for three weeks. We don’t know where he is, somewhere in Europe. When he writes home he’s not allowed to say anything about what he’s doing or where he is.”
“Yes, of course. I guess all the letters home are censored anyway. Did you get new batteries for the torch?”
“Yes.”
They climbed the barbed wire fence that separated the field from wood, carefully avoiding its sharp spikes. A narrow track led them through the trees towards the coast. As they neared the far side Jack said, “Climb the lookout tree Bob. I’ll get the spade.”
The lookout tree was a tall, easily-climbed beech that stood close to the edge of the wood. Half way up one could overlook most of the other trees and see if anyone was coming along the Coastal Trail that ran along the top of the cliffs separating the farms from the sea. Going to the shore was forbidden these days and the boys didn’t want to be seen. The path to the beach was guarded by a partly-buried pill box located close to the top of the path. The only time the box was manned was when the Home Guard had an exercise and that was usually at night.
As Bob made his way to the lookout tree Jack climbed the branches to the treehouse that he, Bob and Bob’s father had made two years ago. The house had a trapdoor, a window and a roof of corrugated iron. It was their own special hide out, roomy, about eight by six, and there was an old cupboard, two chairs and a small table inside. Ever since the war begun last September they had not been allowed to go to the beach so they often ate their picnic lunches there. Now, in late July, they were less worried about being seen and frequently sneaked down to the cove. They went there because Mrs. Grant, their English teacher, had told them to read Treasure Island then write an essay about looking for treasure. Jack loved the story and became a dedicated treasure hunter. This part of the Cornish coastline was an excellent place for that kind of thing for everyone knew that smugglers used to hide goods in the caves. Jack didn’t expect to find gold or silver there but he thought there might be a few barrels of brandy buried under the sand at the back of a cave. Bob didn’t think they’d find anything, but, if Jack wanted to search, so did he.
Jack reached the trap door and swung it back. It landed on the floor with its usual bang and he poked his head into the room. Sitting on an old tarpaulin was a man pointing a gun at Jack’s head.
Chapter Two.
“Get in,” the man said. “Sit there,” and he pointed to the opposite corner of the room.
Jack pulled himself in then sat down, staring at the man.
“Who were you talking to?” the man asked.
“Bob, my friend. You’re the Jerry pilot aren’t you?”
“I’m the pilot of the Messerschmitt that was shot down, yes.”
“You speak English very well.”
“I went to school in England when I was young. What is your friend doing?”
“He’s climbed the look-out tree. We’re going to the beach but can’t do that if anyone sees us.”
“Why are you going there? Isn’t the shore mined?”
“Not around here. We’re exploring the caves. Are you going to shoot us?”
“I hope not. What time do you have to be home?”
“For lunch. Bob has to be home around twelve thirty.”
“Well, we can’t stay here then, they’ll come looking for you and find me.”
“They’ll find you sooner or later, won’t they? You’re bound to be caught.”
“I don’t think so. I’m being collected. But I can’t let you go home you’ll tell them about me. We’ll have to hide somewhere together until I leave.”
Jack, thinking hard, said, “We could hide in one of the caves. They won’t think of looking there. If we did that, you wouldn’t shoot us?”
“No, I wouldn’t. That’s a good idea. Okay, that’s what we’ll do. We’ll get Bob and do that.”
Jack began to get up. “No, wait,” the man said. He took a knife from his jacket pocket and cut one of the ropes the boys had hidden in the cupboard into lengths.
“I can’t climb down if you tie me up,” said Jack.
“I know. I’ll do that when we’re down. You’re very helpful, aren’t you.”
“I don’t want to be shot, that’s why.”
The man climbed down to the ground and Jack followed, carrying the spade.
“Why did you bring that?” asked the man.
“Sand blocks the cave entrance sometimes. Depends on how rough the sea has been.”
“I see. Okay, let’s get Bob.”
Jack led the way to the look-out tree then called, “Come down, Bob. Is there anyone on the path?”
“No. Who’s that with you?”
“Come down and I’ll tell you.”
Once down Jack told Bob what had happened and said they must co-operate or they’ll be shot.
“All right. What’s your name, mister?” asked Bob.
“Hans,” said the man. “What’s yours,” he said, pointing to Jack.
“Jack.”
“Okay, Jack. Lead the way.”
They walked quickly out of the wood, crossed the trail and went down the path that led to the beach.
“We’d best go to that one,” Jack said, and pointed to the mouth of the third cave of the several that lay at the base of the cliffs surrounding the bay. “It’s the biggest.”
“Okay. Walk on the rocks wherever you can and try not
to leave footprints,” said Hans.
“I know why you’ve chosen that one,” whispered Bob in Jack’s ear. “It connects to the next one. You think we can get away?”
“Don’t know. Perhaps, but he’ll probably tie our legs when we’re inside so it might not work.”
“There’s no need to talk,” Hans said. “Just do as I ask and you’ll be all right.”
Chapter Three
Once inside the cave Hans did as Jack predicted, he told the boys to lie down near the back of the cave and then he tied their legs and hands together. He then went back to the path, cut a branch from one of the bushes and returned, walking backwards and brushing sand over their footprints.
Time passed slowly. Around two o’clock and again a couple of hours later they heard men calling for Bob and Jack but no one came down to the shore. As it darkened Hans gave the boys some bread and cheese. There was nothing to drink. Afterwards he undid the rope around Jack’s hands and legs and let him go outside to pee, standing by the cave entrance where he could watch that he didn’t try to run away. He re-roped Jack then let Bob outside.
Another hour passed and Jack told Hans they were both very uncomfortable and would like to shape hollows to lie in. Once Jack’s hands had been untied he used the spade to cut mostly through one of the ropes wound around his legs then scooped shallow hollows. Hans collected the spade, retied Jack’s hands, then made a more comfortable spot for himself, just inside the doorway. “Not much longer,” he told the boys. “They should be here about twelve. Before I leave I’ll untie the rope around your hands Jack then you can release Bob.”
“Thank you,” said Jack.
Once everything was quiet Jack carefully reached down and pulled each side of the cut he had made in the rope. It took him ten minutes to break it apart. He then slowly pushed his way backwards towards and around the out-cropping boulder and into a narrow hole. It was hard to squeeze himself around the rock then towards the gap without being able to use his hands. He pushed and shoved his way through the hole and into the small cave that lay on the other side. Once there he rested then, crouching to avoid hitting his head on the roof, then eased his way to the mouth of the cave.
There was no sound except for the waves dashing against the rocks. Jack stood up then walked as quietly as he could towards the path. It was cloudy but a half-moon lit his way. He was about half way up the slope when Hans shouted, “Stop,” and ran towards him.
“No you don’t,” he said, as he grabbed Jack’s elbow. “A good try, but a waste of time. The U-boat’s here. They’ve answered my flashes. They’ll be here very soon. Come back to the cave.”
Jack was told to lie down with Bob and wait. Twenty minutes later Hans said, “I’ll undo your hands now, Jack. Wait here for ten minutes then you can leave. Good bye. Maybe we’ll meet after the war. I’ll visit this place then, if I survive.”
“Goodbye Hans,” said Jack and Bob.
As soon as Hans had left the cave Jack hurriedly untied Bob’s hands and feet. They stood at the cave’s mouth watching a rubber boat being rowed towards a dark mound two or three hundred feet out at sea. “I should have left earlier,” said Jack. “I didn’t know it was so late. Come, let’s go home.”
Two men were in the kitchen with Bob’s mother and father when they arrived. “Oh, thank God, you’re safe,” cried Mrs. Forester. “What happened to you? Where have you been?”
Bob explained how the Jerry pilot had captured them and that they had hid in one of the caves.
“What’s happened to the man?” One of the strangers asked.
“He’s on a submarine now, a U-boat,” answered Jack. “Can I go home now? My mother will be very worried.”
“Just a moment. Did he have a camera?”
“Yes, quite a big one.”
“I told you,” said the man to his colleague. “He was on a reconnaissance flight, seeing what they’d done in Newport. I bet they’ll bomb Bristol next. Thanks, boys.”
“I’ll take you home, Jack,” said the second man. “My car’s outside.”
“Thanks, mister. I’ll see you tomorrow morning Bob.”
“Okay.”
Chapter Four. Tuesday, July 23
Walking back to the cave the next morning Jack brought up what had happened yesterday.
“Did you notice the bread and cheese we ate Bob?”
“Yes. It wasn’t much but very nice. I’m glad Hans gave us some.”
“Did you notice it was a round loaf and very fresh? I bet it wasn’t more than a day or two old. So, where did he get it? He couldn’t have just gone into a shop and bought it. He must have been given it and that means there’s a collaborator nearby, someone who could have radioed Germany and arranged for a U-boat to come.”
“You think so? He could have stolen the bread and he could have radioed before crashing or there might be an arrangement that a U-boat always comes here if planes are shot down in this vicinity.”
“I don’t think he’d have time to radio when he was fighting and he’d have to jump out as soon as he knew the plane was likely to crash,” said Bob, “and I bet a U-boat wouldn’t come every time a plane was shot down.”
“No, I suppose not. The U-boat probably came this time because he had some important information. Nevertheless, the freshness of the bread makes me wonder. Do you think we should go to the police and tell them about this or ask them if anyone has been broken into?”
“They probably wouldn’t tell you about break-ins nor have time to check who eats round loaves of bread.”
“Then we’ll do it ourselves.”
“How? Go around asking everybody what kind of bread they eat? We’d look silly.”
“No, I don’t mean that. I’ll ask Mr. Stevens if any bread has been stolen. Better, I’ll look over the grocery orders tomorrow and find out who orders the same kind of bread Hans gave us. Most people eat long loaves, and the cheese was old cheddar.”
“That doesn’t mean much, most people eat cheddar. You still think he got the bread from a collaborator and didn’t steal it?”
“Don’t know, but this would be a good way to narrow the field down. Just where did he get the bread.”
“Check the orders today then, don’t wait until tomorrow.”
“Can’t, we don’t get them until Wednesday.” Jack knew this because he was the main delivery boy for Mr. Stevens’ shop and had been bicycling bags of groceries around Mansworth since his dad had joined the army. There was not much money coming into Jack’s house. His mom received half of what his father was paid and Jack gave his mom all the money he earned, all but sixpence, which was enough to buy a few sweets. There wasn’t much to spend money on anyway these days.
“I’ll ask Mr. Stevens this afternoon if anything had been stolen from his shop.”
They collected the spade and returned it to the treehouse. While they were there they searched the corner where Hans had been sitting, hoping to find more clues about how he had got the bread but found nothing.
“Hello Jack,” said Mr. Stevens that afternoon. “Come to buy sweets? I got some liquorice this morning.”
“Oh, good. I’ll take twopence worth. Everything been okay here this week?”
“Yes, of course. Why do you ask?”
“Oh, I read about the robberies in Falmouth and wondered if they ever came here.”
“Nah, nothing worth stealing here. They were after jewellery, you must have read that.”
“Yes, I know. Just wondered. Did you hear about what happened to Bob Forester and me yesterday?”
“No. what happened?”
“We were captured by a German pilot,” and Jack told Mr. Stevens what had happened.
“My goodness. That was an adventure. So the man got away then.”
“Yes. Well, I have to go now. See you tomorrow.”
“Yes, ‘Bye, Jack.”
“‘Bye, Mr. Stevens.”
‘So Hans didn’t steal the bread from the shop,’ thought Jack, ‘but maybe he
stole the bread and cheese from somebody’s kitchen and there isn’t a collaborator. I wonder how I could investigate that?’
Biking home, Jack thought about the bread. ‘If it had been stolen or even if it had been given away the house it came from would be short of bread and they might order extra. I’ll check the orders for round loaves and look for increases. Hmm, even if I find any I can’t ask why they were ordered. Collaborators wouldn’t tell me or they’d say it was for visitors or a party, something like that.’
Chapter Five, Wednesday, July 24
At nine o’clock Wednesday morning a young man knocked on Mrs. Jones’ door and asked if he could speak to Jack. He was a reporter for the local weekend paper, the Falmouth Post.
Over a cup of tea Jack told him what had happened and said he should also talk to Bob since he was also there. “Will this be in the weekend’s Post?” Jack asked.
“Oh, yes. Nothing like this has happened around here before. It’s very interesting. I should take your photo too?
“No, you can’t take just me. You’ll have to take both of us.?
“Okay. Can we see him now, do you think?”
“I should think so, he’ll be helping his dad on the farm right now. Do you have a car?”
“No, just a bike.”
“Okay, let’s go.”
Saying goodbye to his mother, Jack and Jim, the reporter, climbed onto their bikes and cycled to the farm.
After some discussion it was decided to take the photo where both the caves’ entrance and the stretch of sea where the U-boat had been. Bob and Jack wouldn’t let Jim photograph the treehouse for they didn’t want other boys to discover it but things didn’t work out that way.
Wednesday afternoon Jack arrived half-an-hour early at Mr. Stevens’ shop and began bagging up his grocery orders. By being early he could see Len’s and Charles’ orders. He found that seventeen families bought a round loaf. Seven of them were on his delivery route, six on Charles’ and four on Len’s. Two of his deliveries had ordered an extra round loaf but he couldn’t tell if any of the other orders were for more than usual. He hadn’t been able to think of a way to ask people if their bread orders had increased so he would check again next Wednesday, or on Saturday, if they needed another delivery. He’d start by investigating his two customers immediately.