by Daisy Styles
Before she could answer a female guard with a grip of iron yanked her by the shoulder and pushed her forward.
‘MOVE!’ she snarled.
Alice gripped Robin’s hand.
‘I love you, I always will!’
The female guard slapped her hard across the face.
‘WHORE!’ she snapped as she pushed and shoved Alice away from the fence.
The last thing she ever heard Robin say was, ‘I love you, my sweetheart, stay strong.’
Then he too was grabbed by a guard and clubbed into silence.
Alice did stay strong; all through her interrogations she told herself over and over again that she had to stay alive, she had to see Robin just one more time.
Lying in her bunk one night, Alice heard fellow inmates passing news along the line.
‘A group of Brits dug their way out – right under the sentry box!’
The following day several of the escapees were dragged back and shot on the spot. One of them, a tall, emaciated man, Alice recognized as the Special Op she and Robin had been dropped into France with, in what now seemed a lifetime ago. As the escapee was dragged by the Gestapo, he caught sight of Alice pressed against the fence. Though she was thin and bruised with a busted lip – hardly the dazzling silver-haired beauty that he trained with in Helford – he nevertheless recognized her. Pretending to stumble and fall, he dragged himself close to the fence where she was standing.
‘Robin got out!’ he whispered.
Before he could say another word he was kicked in the head and hauled away to be shot. Alice, nearly fainting with relief, gripped the fence as she gasped.
‘Robin’s free!’
It was the very last thought in her mind when, some days later, a lethal injection of phenol was administered to her at the end of her interrogation because – no matter what the Gestapo did to her – Alice refused to crack.
CHAPTER 36
The Visit
1945 brought great hope to the nation. The Allies were relentlessly advancing on Germany and the Soviets in the East had captured Warsaw.
But the world was soon to be shocked by newsreel footage showing skeletal prisoners being freed from concentration camps.
Emily, Lillian and Agnes had been to see Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall in To Have and Have Not and they had watched the harrowing scenes on the Pathé News that accompanied the film.
‘How can anyone hate a religion so much they’d want to wipe all its followers off the face of the earth?’ Emily asked Lillian and Agnes as they walked home.
‘And how could so many help Hitler achieve his ambition to annihilate the Jews?’ Agnes asked.
‘When they catch the murdering generals they’ll string ’em up,’ Lillian said wrathfully.
‘That won’t bring back the dead,’ replied Emily sadly.
They were on a late shift the following day so Agnes took advantage of her free time to pop in and see Esther, who was thriving under Elsie’s devoted care and Jonty’s fawning adoration. Lillian decided to sleep in till she had to clock on for work, whilst Emily went to see her mum, who had heard news from Mrs Redmond about Bill.
‘She said he’d written.’
Seeing Emily’s tense face, Mrs Yates quickly added, ‘The Lancashires had some heavy fighting near the River Rhine, wherever that is. But they’ve been singled out for their bravery and congratulated by Montgomery himself,’ she concluded.
Emily didn’t know whether to feel relieved or even more anxious. God, after all these months Bill’s unit were still fighting, fighting all the way to Berlin, regardless of the thousands of fatalities on both sides.
‘Oh, Mother,’ she sighed as she put her head in her hands. ‘Will it ever end?’
Mrs Yates gave her a comforting pat on the shoulder then dropped a large buff envelope on the kitchen table.
‘This came for you,’ she said.
Emily looked at the writing. She didn’t recognize it, but she did recognize the postmark; it was from Helston in Cornwall.
‘Looks official,’ said Mrs Yates.
Trembling, Emily ripped open the envelope and pulled out several typewritten sheets of paper.
Dear Miss Yates,
Through a series of events, the details of which I am not at liberty to disclose, a notebook was delivered to me. It was written in code by Alice Massey. When transcribed, we discovered it was in fact a series of letters to you. For reasons of national security we found it necessary to censor some of the information, but the enclosed is an accurate transcription of what Miss Massey wrote personally to you.
Yours faithfully,
Brigadier Russell Kingsley
Frightened that her face would betray her emotions, Emily scooped up the package and said a hurried goodbye to her mother.
‘I’d better get back, Mum. The girls will be waiting for me.’
Emily couldn’t get back to the digs quick enough. She was relieved to find that Lillian was still snoozing and Agnes hadn’t got back, so she would have the sitting room to herself while she read Alice’s notebook, which Brigadier Kingsley’s office had transcribed onto sheets of paper. The first thing she noticed was the date; Alice had written this months ago. Why had it taken so long to reach her? Who had handed it over to the Brigadier? Where was Alice now?
She began to read.
Dearest Emily,
How are you and Elsie, Agnes, Lillian, Esther and little Jonty? I miss you all so much …
… I often think of you in the digs. We had such happy times together …
… When I’m frightened I let my mind drift back home, and it’s always to the moors, rolling away higher and higher, with the sun beating down, or the snow falling …
‘Oh, Al, you’ll never know how much I miss you, how much we all miss you and pray for your safe return,’ Emily murmured as her eyes raced along the typewritten sheets.
When Emily turned the page her skin prickled; there was a dread and fear in what Alice wrote next.
If I never come home look after Mum and be the daughter that I might have been. Try to find my Robin. Tell him I love him more than life itself and our love goes beyond the grave.
Take care of yourself, my dearest, sweetest Em, and every time you walk on the moors blow a kiss to heaven, where I hope I’ll be when all this is finally over.
Find Bill, marry him, have babies, be happy.
I love you,
Alice
Emily stared in disbelief at the letter then read it again.
If I never come home …
‘You MUST come home, Alice, you must!’ Emily said as she burst into tears. ‘You’ve GOT to come back to me!’ she sobbed.
‘Em … ?’
It was Lillian, fresh from her bed, still with her rollers in.
Seeing Emily’s tear-stained face and haunted expression, she hunkered down beside her.
‘What’s up, cock?’
Fed up with keeping secrets, Emily thrust the sheets of paper into Lillian’s hands.
‘Alice wrote to me. Half of it’s censored but you can read between the lines,’ she said bleakly.
‘Sweet Jesus,’ Lillian gasped as she read. ‘I never even guessed.’
‘I didn’t until I went to stay with her in London,’ Emily said, relieved at last to talk openly about Alice. ‘I promised I wouldn’t say a word. She said it would be dangerous for her, so I kept silent.’ She sighed as she leaned against Lillian. ‘Would it have helped if I’d said something?’
‘Of course not,’ Lillian staunchly retorted. ‘She took you into her confidence because she trusted you and you kept her secret.’
‘Do you think she might still be alive?’ Emily asked.
‘It’s possible,’ Lillian replied. ‘One thing this bastard war’s taught us is to never give up hoping.’
When Agnes returned from her visit to Esther they showed her the letter too.
‘All along I suspected she was doing something covert but I never imagined it was so d
angerous,’ she said. ‘We’d better tell Elsie; she wouldn’t want to be left out.’
Elsie was devastated.
‘Why would a beautiful girl like Alice want to be a spy?’ she cried angrily. ‘She could have stayed here with us instead of running off to France and risking her life for others.’
Elsie’s anger gave way to tears and Emily hugged her as she sobbed.
‘It was what she wanted. And it was typical Alice: so small and delicate but underneath as tough as old boots and damned determined. She had to fight the war her way and we must respect that, Elsie, whether we like it or not,’ Emily said sadly. ‘Who knows how many lives she might have saved?’
The four girls swore a vow of secrecy.
‘Nobody must know about this but us,’ Agnes said firmly. ‘If Alice is alive and this got out she’d be in even more danger. All we can do is pray she’ll come back,’ she added wistfully.
As a cold spring set in, women began to leave the Phoenix. Bombs were still needed, of course, but the production lines up and down the country were coping so older women and women with families, all exhausted by the relentless work schedule, were allowed to go home. The goodbyes were both joyous and sad; girls and women who had worked, slept and lived alongside one another for four hard years wept as they parted.
‘It’ll be right bloody funny not sharing with a crowd of girls,’ one of the cordite girls said as she sat in the canteen for the last time. ‘I can’t imagine not brewing up for ten lasses or queuing up for the lav. Us lot even had our periods in sync!’ she laughed. ‘Imagine the mood we were all in the week before we started. Believe me, we were ready for ripping each other’s heads off!’
‘There’ve been great days and sad days,’ Agnes said.
‘I’ll even miss Malc,’ the cordite girl said as she blew a kiss across the room to Malc, whose head was buried in a newspaper.
‘We’ll stay in touch. We won’t forget,’ the girls promised as they waved goodbye. But in truth, without the intensity of community living and sharing, without the driving force of the war effort, friendships would fade into fond memories.
Emily was delighted when she heard the Canadian airmen were leaving their base in the valley.
‘Ontario’s more than welcome to smarmy Freddie Bilodeaux!’ she said. ‘I might even burn the rude photograph I threatened him with,’ she added with a laugh.
Even though German V1 and V2 rockets were still bombing London, news of the war continued to improve. The Allies took Cologne and built a bridge across the Rhine, the Soviets and the Western Allies were in a race to get to Berlin and Mussolini was in prison.
‘Adolf’s not shouting quite as loudly as he was,’ mocked Lillian as she left the Phoenix one day with Emily.
She was chatting away nineteen to the dozen so didn’t notice that Emily had stopped walking and was standing stock-still, her eyes fixed on a handsome young man with startling blue eyes and a blond moustache. Lillian looked over too and noticed he seemed to be carefully scrutinizing every girl that passed him. She heard Emily gasp in amazement.
‘Could it really be?’ she murmured, then turning to Lillian she quietly said, ‘I think it’s Alice’s boyfriend.’
‘I’ll leave you to it,’ Lillian said as she discreetly turned and left. Emily hesitantly approached the man, who was indeed Robin.
She smiled expectantly; maybe he was here with good news of Alice?
‘Emily!’ he cried. ‘I must look highly suspicious standing here eyeing up women.’
Emily smiled but all the time her heart was hammering in her ribcage.
‘I was hoping to see you,’ he added gently.
Emily gazed into his face, scarred from gashes and cuts inflicted on him during his interrogations. He looked older too and his eyes were hollowed out with grief.
‘It’s Alice, isn’t it?’ she said.
Robin nodded.
Though Emily instinctively knew the news was bad she didn’t want to hear him say the words; she didn’t want to give up hope.
‘Where is she? Is she hurt?’ she blustered.
Robin took hold of her hands.
‘Emily … Alice is dead,’ he said.
Emily’s eyes filled up with tears which splashed unchecked down her cheeks.
‘NO! Please, Robin, no,’ she begged.
‘There’s no way I can make it easy for you, Emily,’ Robin said gently.
Emily, desperate for any hope to hold onto, blundered on.
‘You got out and maybe Alice did too! She might be coming home. She might have been rescued, just like you,’ she cried.
Robin squeezed her hands as he shook his head.
‘No, Emily,’ he said firmly. ‘She was identified by somebody we trained with. He recognized her body when they were …’ He struggled to finish his sentence as tears streamed down his face. ‘… When they were burning prisoners in the crematorium at Dachau. The Gestapo never got anything out of Alice …’ He took a breath to steady his voice. ‘They gave her a lethal injection then burned her.’
Emily’s knees gave way, but before she could fall to the ground Robin grabbed her then half carried her back to the digs.
Malc was asked to go and pick up Elsie so she could hear Robin’s tragic news along with her friends. She arrived white-faced and breathless. Ignoring the brandy Robin was pouring out for Agnes, Lillian and Emily, she sat tensely on the sofa, her lovely green eyes wide with fear.
Robin repeated what he’d told Emily earlier, and the silence that followed was long and painful. None of the girls dared to speak for fear of the emotion they might unleash.
‘She was so brave; she was the best explosives Special Op Helford had ever come across. She was beautiful too and I adored her,’ he said with a sob in his voice. ‘We were so near the end of the war, I thought I’d go back for her, or the Allies would liberate the camp. I thought we’d be together again …’ His voice trailed away as he became lost for words.
‘Why would they kill her? Why wouldn’t they just let her go?’ Elsie wailed as she gave way to floods of tears.
‘The Gestapo have never been generous about letting people go,’ Robin said quietly. ‘When they’ve got what they want out of you – or not, in brave Alice’s case – you’re disposed of.’
White-faced, he rose to his feet.
‘It’s time I told Mrs Massey,’ he said.
‘I’ll come with you,’ said Emily.
‘What will you tell her?’ Agnes asked.
‘The truth,’ said Robin. ‘That her daughter was a hero who gave up her life for her friends and family, and her King and country.’
The whole town went into mourning for Alice, who wasn’t just a local hero but a national hero too. Her death and her sacrifice were written about in all the newspapers and the entire population of Pendle turned up for her memorial service in the parish church. There was no body, no coffin, but the church was full of spring flowers and the sun dappled the stained-glass windows and shone down on the mourners.
Robin and Emily sat on either side of Alice’s mother, who had turned into a frail, trembling old lady almost overnight. She had collapsed on hearing Robin’s terrible news and was heavily tranquillized in order to get through the service.
‘Imagine being alone in her house with no hope of ever seeing her husband or daughter again,’ said Agnes. ‘Well, not in this life anyway.’
Brigadier Kingsley from Helford House came to the funeral and he spoke of Alice’s unflagging energy and determination, her selflessness, her beauty and her bravery.
‘She also had a cheeky, mischievous sense of humour, setting decoys to lead her fellow trainees on a merry dance that usually ended up in the Ladies! Being here in the town where Alice grew up, meeting Alice’s friends and family, I can see where that humour came from and from where she drew her strength,’ he said to the tearful congregation. ‘You should be proud people of Pendle to have had such a daughter, one who loved and was loved and never gave up.’
By the end of the ceremony the entire congregation was in tears. After the final blessing they trooped out of the church and gathered around the memorial stone erected for Alice in the churchyard, where they laid wreaths of fragrant spring flowers.
As the mourners dispersed to the Station Hotel for strong drinks and sandwiches, Emily hung back; she was in no hurry to go anywhere. Resting her head against the memorial she read the words carved onto the grey Pennine slab.
ALICE MASSEY
Who lost her life in active service
in Dachau, Germany, aged 25.
Your sacrifice gave us our freedom.
Emily looked up into the vaulted blue sky.
‘Catch this, Al,’ she said as she blew a kiss up to heaven.
Seeing a figure approaching, Emily hurriedly took out her hankie and brushed tears off her cheeks. When her eyes had cleared she looked again, squinting, then caught her breath. Was she dreaming? The outline of the tall, slim figure in army uniform walking up the church path towards her took her breath away. Blinking hard, she looked again. Her Bill! Was it really him? As he got nearer, she saw the sweep of his dark hair over his forehead, the scar on his chin he’d got playing football at primary school, the soft smile playing on his lips. Wide-eyed, frightened and shaking in every limb, Emily gazed at him in total disbelief.
‘Hiya,’ he said in his old familiar way as he neared her.
Oh, the sound of his voice! How long since she’d heard it! How sweet it sounded, like a long-awaited caress. Holding onto Alice’s memorial for support Emily swayed.
‘Hiya,’ she answered weakly.
‘Need a hug?’
Weeping uncontrollably, Emily fell into his open arms, and then, pressed against his warm, strong chest, she sobbed herself dry.
‘What will I do without her?’ she cried.
Smiling gently, Bill wiped a finger down her wet cheeks and around her full mouth, which he kissed softly.
‘Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll look after you,’ he promised.
They stayed in the churchyard a long time. Moving her away from the memorial, Bill led a trembling Emily to a bench under an old elm where they sat holding hands. In between bouts of talking they gazed rapturously at each other.
