A Girl Can Dream

by Anne Bennett

  ‘I know,’ Meg said. ‘I find being busy helps.’

  Just a couple of days later, news came through the wireless of an aerial attack on the Dutch airfields. The word Blitzkrieg meaning ‘Lightning War’ entered their vocabulary, and the Blitzkrieg visited on the airfield left the Dutch with only twelve operational planes. There was no defence against another savage Blitzkrieg against Rotterdam a few days later, leaving over 900 people dead. The report said that Allied troops were hampered trying to enter the city to help by the vast numbers of Dutch trying to get out of it. At the same time German paratroopers were dropped on top of the supposedly impregnable fortress. It was in German hands in twenty-four hours and the Low Countries lay open to invasion. The news was as bad as it could get. As Will said, ‘Holland and Belgium have surrendered, and really they were left with no option, but we only need France to fall now and our lads will be buggered because the bloody Germans will be able to cut them off.’

  No one said anything because no one could think of anything to say, and the only sounds in the room were Will’s heavy, agitated breathing, the crackling of the fire in the range and the ticking of the clock on the mantelshelf.

  The wireless was never off now, as daily the family waited for more news. Then, on the evening of 14 May, as they were just finishing their dinner, Anthony Eden, who was the Secretary of State for War, broadcast a message from the BBC.

  Since the war began, we have received countless enquiries from all over the kingdom from men of all ages who are for one reason or another not at present engaged in military service, and who wish to do something for the defence of their country. Well, now is your opportunity. We want large numbers of such men in Great Britain, who are British subjects between the ages of seventeen and sixty-five, to come forward now and offer their services in order to make assurance doubly sure. The name of the new force which is now to be raised will be the Local Defence Volunteers … It must be understood that this is, so to speak, a spare-time job, so there will be no need for any volunteer to abandon his present occupation.

  ‘What’s all that about, do you imagine?’ Meg asked.

  ‘I think they’re worried about invasion,’ said Enid.

  ‘Stands to reason,’ Will said. ‘Look, I’m not trying to frighten you, but it is as well to be prepared. The point is, if France falls – and every other country in Europe has folded so far – then only a small stretch of water separates us.’

  Will was so right. Suddenly no letters were arriving. The waiting was dreadful and every day the news worsened; now the Allies were in retreat. Will brought a map home from Penkridge the following Saturday and, after studying it said, ‘The way I see it, there isn’t anywhere to retreat to but the beaches.’

  ‘And then what?’ Enid asked fearfully.

  ‘What do you bloody think?’ Will snapped at Enid in a way he had never done before, because a knot of worry was tearing at his heart. When they heard the request that all owners of boats of all types, shapes and sizes capable of crossing the Channel should contact the navy, they didn’t see what use they could be. It was afterwards, when the veil of secrecy was lifted, that they discovered that the job of the smaller boats was ferrying the soldiers from the makeshift pier heads they had set up on the beaches to the naval ships anchored in deeper water. With the ships filled to capacity, the owners of the little boats would load them up with as many men as they could, before heading for home and, once there, go back and start all over again.

  The picture in the papers that Will brought from Penkridge showed the boats bobbing about in the choppy waters as if they were at some jolly regatta. The reality was totally different, for these brave men were bombed and strafed with machine-gun fire just like the ones on the beaches and those on the big ships, and many perished, but they carried on regardless.

  It was known as Operation Dynamo, and together the small boats and naval ships rescued 192,000 British and 140,000 French soldiers between 27 May and 4 June 1940. It was an amazing feat, despite the fact that many had been left behind on the beaches. Daily they all waited at the farm to see if their loved ones had been among the lucky ones who had arrived home in Blighty.

  Just before Operation Dynamo was over, Joy received a telegram from her mother to say her brother was home but injured and in hospital. She sobbed in relief. Enid put her arms around her and wished that she’d had similar news. The Heppleswaites said she must go home for a few days and be a comfort to her mother and see her brother for herself, and that they would manage.

  So Meg was on her own that first Saturday in June, for although Will and Enid had offered to take her into Penkridge with them, she had so many more jobs to do with Joy away that she’d decided to stay and make a start on those. She was weeding one of the potato fields when she saw an army truck stop at the head of the lane.

  She strained her eyes to see better, but the two dogs who were with her suddenly took off. Though she tried to call them, they didn’t take a blind bit of notice of her.

  A man got out of the truck, awkwardly because one leg was encased in plaster. ‘You’re sure you’ll be all right?’ the driver of the truck asked him, getting out to stand beside him. ‘That lane looks a bit dicey.’

  As the man opened his mouth to reply, he was very nearly completely overbalanced by two dogs leaping up at him, wild with excitement. The blood seemed to stop in Meg’s body, for it was Stephen. Stephen, and he was alive! Oh God, he was alive!

  She pelted up the lane towards him as the driver was saying with a laugh, ‘There’s two glad to see you home, at any rate.’

  ‘They’re not the only ones,’ Meg said, pushing the dogs out of the way and putting her arms around. Stephen. Her heart was hammering in her chest as she threw her arms around him, nearly overbalancing him again, ‘There are no words to tell you how pleased, oh and so relieved to see you,’ she cried. ‘Welcome home, my darling love.’

  ‘Blimey,’ said the driver, and he had a big grin on his face as he eyed Meg up appreciatively as he got back in the cab. ‘No wonder you were in a hurry to get home.’ And then he turned to Meg and said, ‘Good day to you, miss. Look after him well; one of Britain’s heroes, he is.’

  The driver gave a wave of his hand as he set off, and Meg put her arm through Stephen’s and they began their staggering walk down the lane, with the dogs running in front of them.

  ‘I am so glad that you’re safe,’ she said. ‘You have no idea … Your parents will be over the moon. Why did you tell no one you were coming?’

  ‘Because I’m not supposed to be here,’ Stephen said.

  ‘What d’you mean?’ Meg said uncertainly.

  ‘The doctors said I wasn’t well enough to travel.’

  ‘Won’t they come looking for you?’ she asked anxiously.

  ‘I doubt it,’ Stephen said. ‘It’s not like going AWOL from the regiment. I escaped from a military hospital. And it was a nice enough place but I thought I had been there long enough. I wanted to come home and so I sneaked out.’

  ‘But how did you get here?’

  ‘Well, I got a train as far as Wolverhampton and just outside the station got talking to a fellow soldier,’ Stephen said. ‘He’d been sent to meet the train to get supplies for the camp at Flaxley Green, just outside Rugeley. I couldn’t believe my luck, and when I told him where I lived he went out of his way to take me as far as the head of the lane. And by the way,’ he added, drawing Meg to her stop and kissing her lips gently, ‘it’s just so lovely to see you again.’

  ‘And you,’ Meg said. ‘Oh, Stephen, I’m all of a quiver inside.’

  ‘I’d forgotten just how beautiful you are’ Stephen said, ‘and just how compelling those dark eyes are.’

  ‘Stephen!’ Meg said in embarrassment. ‘I bet you say something similar to all the girls.’

  ‘All the girls,’ Stephen repeated. ‘Are you kidding? There have been no girls in my life but you. Unless,’ he added with a grin, ‘you count the nurses. Some of them were very cute,
but there was this god-awful matron who would bawl you out if you even looked wrong at them, never mind throw in a bit of flirting.’

  ‘Hmm, well, I would say the god-awful matron was needed,’ Meg said. ‘Especially if the wards were full of young men like you. Now here you are home, can you manage the step?’

  ‘’Course I can,’ Stephen said. ‘Don’t start fussing me. I can’t stand that.’

  ‘I don’t call asking someone a civil question fussing,’ Meg said a little testily.

  ‘No,’ Stephen said. ‘I’m sorry. I’m a bit tired.’

  ‘And sore, I’d warrant,’ Meg said, seeing the lines of pain creasing Stephen’s face. ‘Which is probably why the hospital said you weren’t recovered enough to come home. Still, you’re here now, so you go and sit down and I’ll put the kettle on and make us some tea.’

  And when they had the tea before them, Meg told him, ‘Your parents don’t know whether you’re even alive or dead. I wouldn’t be surprised if your mother doesn’t have a heart attack when she comes in and sees you.’

  ‘I’d hoped they might have heard something.’ Stephen said. ‘I was out of it when I arrived at the hospital first. I’d been in the water for hours and I was raving with fever, and had lost my dog tag and everything. They didn’t think I would survive. One of the doctors told me that my leg was shot to blazes. Under this plaster cast it’s one hell of a mess. By the way, where’s Joy?’

  ‘Her parents were told that her brother was alive but injured and in hospital, so she’s managed to get off to see him.’

  ‘Her parents were lucky,’ Stephen agreed. ‘And I’m sorry no word has got through to Mum and Dad and you. You must have all been worried sick, but even if I had my dog tag intact, or could tell them who I was, the army are going to find it difficult to locate everyone, because we were coming back in dribs and drabs, on little fishing boats or on those naval ships not bombed out of the water. Then some were severely injured and some weren’t going to make it and though they were rescuing men till two days ago, I would hazard a guess there were still plenty left on the beaches; others just disappeared. How do they account for all those men and send the appropriate telegrams? It will take a long time for some to be informed, that’s for sure.’

  ‘Of those left,’ Meg said, thinking of her own father, ‘would they be taken to a POW camp?’

  Stephen shrugged. ‘They should be,’ he said, ‘but I don’t know. People said they weren’t taking prisoners. But if they were, that would cause a further delay in informing the army and relatives.’

  ‘I can see it must be very difficult to try and account for everybody,’ Meg said. ‘But it’s awful just waiting and waiting and hearing nothing but bad and then worse news on the wireless.’

  ‘I can imagine,’ Stephen said. ‘That’s why I wanted to come home. I wanted to come and see them, show them that I am alive when a good few aren’t. The two farm hands, Luke and John …’ He trailed off.

  ‘Both killed?’ Meg touched his hand.

  Stephen nodded. ‘We were wriggling across the beaches together and when we saw the Stukas diving we tried to burrow into the sand, but there was no time. They strafed us with bullets, killed Luke and John outright and peppered my leg. I would have been one of the ones left behind on the beach if fellow soldiers hadn’t risked their lives by carrying and dragging me to one of the pier heads.’

  Meg was silent for a time, digesting the full horror of his story. ‘Will used to buy the papers and we saw the pictures,’ she told him, ‘but being there must have been truly terrible,’ and she gazed at him and felt a jolt in her heart at realising how close he had come to death. Their eyes locked and Stephen leaned forward. Meg left her chair and kneeled on the floor in front of him and held his hands . . ‘Can I kiss you?’ Stephen said huskily. ‘It’s what I’ve dreamed of and that has kept me alive.’

  How could Meg refuse that? ‘Oh, Stephen,’ she murmured as their lips met and Stephen’s arms encircled her. It was only Meg’s second proper kiss and she never wanted it to end and she let out a moan of desire that surprised her.

  ‘Meg,’ said Stephen but as they eventually drew apart but Meg lifted her head for she had heard the rumble of the cart over the cobbles in the yard and she got to her feet . .

  ‘Here are your parents coming home,’ she said, glancing out of the window, ‘so I shall go back to hoeing the turnips.’

  ‘There’s no need to do that,’ Stephen told her.

  ‘Oh, I think there is,’ Meg said. ‘They will want you to themselves for a while.’

  As she walked towards the door, Enid came through it carrying shopping bags in her hands. Stephen had got to his feet and was holding onto the mantelshelf for support. Meg watched the blood drain from Enid’s face, the bags fell from her hands as her mouth dropped open, and then she let out a shout of pure joy and ran across the room crying, ‘Stephen, my darling, darling boy.’ She held him so tightly and with such enthusiasm as tears spurted from her eyes. Her love for her only son and relief that he was alive was almost tangible, and Meg felt a lump form in her throat. She turned and headed quietly out of the door, her emotions churning.

  The following day, Stephen received a letter from the military hospital, demanding his return.

  ‘Will you go back?’ Meg said, when he read the contents of the letter out at the breakfast table.’

  ‘Not likely.’

  ‘Can you just refuse?’ Meg asked. ‘Won’t you get into some awful trouble?’

  ‘No, I don’t think so,’ Stephen said. ‘Look, there is no point in taking up a hospital bed when I can just as well be treated at Flaxley Green camp, which is no distance at all; they will have medical facilities there.’

  ‘So will you tell them that?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Stephen. ‘I’ll tell them that I will recover much quicker in the bosom of my family. And,’ he added with a grin at Meg that caused her heart to give a lurch, ‘that I have my favourite girl in all the world to mop my fevered brow.’

  ‘Huh,’ Meg said. ‘What did your last servant die of?’

  ‘Overwork,’ Stephen said sagely and the two fell about laughing. Enid glanced at them and then at Will. She loved to hear Meg laughing. and she was delighted for she already loved Meg like a daughter and there was no one better she could have chosen for her son.

  Joy was also aware of the stronger feelings developing between Stephen and Meg as soon as she returned. On her first night home, as they undressed for bed, she said tauntingly, ‘Stephen still just a friend then? ‘Then added, ‘Don’t bother answering because you’re blushing and that answers the question.’

  ‘It just happened when he came home from Dunkirk,’ Meg attempted to explain. ‘I thought, what if he had died like his two friends he still misses so much, and that sort of opened my eyes to just what he means to me.’

  ‘You don’t have to justify yourself to me,’ Joy said gently. ‘If I was nasty I could say “I told you so”, but I won’t because I’m so pleased for the pair of you.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Meg said. ‘Sometimes it feels wrong to be so happy when the war is going so badly.’

  ‘So will it go better if you go round miserable?’

  ‘No, but—’

  ‘Look, Meg, we’re at war,’ Joy said, holding on to her friend’s hands. ‘No one knows what the future holds for any of us so grab happiness where you can. Enjoy your time together and never feel you shouldn’t.’

  Joy’s words did make Meg feel better, but there was no doubt that the war news was more worrying than ever as German bombers pounded the coastal towns. The newspapers were filled with distressing images of dispossessed and traumatised families sitting in the ruins of their homes, and stories of those left dead or badly injured. Everyone knew invasion was a real and very likely possibility as they read of beaches rendered out of action, laid with anti-tank mines. and coils of barbed wire with pillboxes erected behind them. As France fell, the Battle of Britain began in the air and householders
were issued with leaflets entitled:

  If the invader comes;

  what to do – and how to do it

  ‘It isn’t much use,’ Enid said, casting her eyes over it when it arrived through their door. Meg had to agree. All it did was tell people to stay where they were till they received further instructions.

  This was reinforced by posters appearing telling them, ‘FREEDOM IS IN PERIL – DEFEND IT WITH ALL YOUR MIGHT’, and other useful or not so useful pieces of advice.

  People were advised to hide food and maps and disable bicycles not in use. All cars were supposed to be hidden away and immobilised, and all directional signs were painted over both on the roads and at railway stations, which proved thoroughly confusing to ordinary people trying to go about their daily business. The more nervous citizens began to see paratroopers or German spies behind every tree.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  In mid-June Aunt Rosie sent a telegram to Meg asking if she could come over and see her on the farm the following Saturday. Meg felt heavy-hearted; she knew that only a matter of great importance would bring her aunt to Penkridge. Enid knew it too, and she sent the boy back with the message that she could come and welcome, and that someone would be there to meet her off the train.

  On Saturday morning Meg rattled through her jobs but was totally unable to eat breakfast.

  ‘Just a wee bit,’ Enid urged, looking at Meg’s white, drawn face.

  Meg shook her head. ‘I would be sick if I tried,’ she said. ‘All I want is for the time to speed by until I see my aunt.’

  Stephen was quietly watching Meg biting her lip in consternation, and tenderness flowed through him as he saw how she suffered. He wished he had some way of easing things for her.

  When the train pulled in and Rosie alighted, Meg gave a sigh and ran towards her. Rosie put her arms around her young niece and Will was glad she looked a kindly sort of person. It eased his mind somewhat. Rosie shook hands with Will as she thanked him for looking after her niece so well. And then she said, ‘How far is the farm from here?’