Keep the Home Fires Burning

by Anne Bennett

  A couple of days after this, there were more important things to worry about because German troops marched into Denmark and Norway, and both countries surrendered without really putting up any sort of fight. Everyone assumed that Hitler would turn his attention to the Low Countries next. However, the news broadcasts claimed he wouldn’t conquer them so easily. Belgium and Holland were protected by a heavily manned impregnable fortress, which guarded three strategic bridges to prevent the German army just marching through their countries. The French had the Maginot Line, which they also claimed was impregnable, a strong line of heavily manned forts that ran from the Swiss border to the Ardennes.

  ‘With Hitler and his armies getting closer,’ Violet said that night as Marion switched off the wireless, ‘I’m really glad me and Peggy didn’t throw the towel in at that drop forge.’

  ‘Did you think of it?’

  ‘I’ll say. It was pride kept us going for the second week – and money, of course. Three pounds a week is not to be sneezed at.’

  ‘I wouldn’t have blamed you if you had given it up,’ Marion said. ‘I’d say you earn every penny. I remember the exhaustion and strain was written all over your faces that first week, and you were as grateful as Richard for a bowl of water in the scullery to wash when you got in.’

  ‘Yeah, and we used to go to bed not long after the evening meal as I remember,’ Peggy said. ‘God, we were not prepared for such intense heat. I mean, sweat broke out on our foreheads as soon as we entered the shop floor, and within minutes we would feel the bead of sweats trickling between our breasts and down our spines.’

  ‘It must have been awful,’ Sarah said, and Marion agreed.

  ‘And we wear these horrible green overalls,’ Violet said. ‘But most of the men wear flannelette shirts as well, to soak up the sweat, and they have scarves around their necks that they use to protect their faces from the heat when they have to open the furnaces.’

  ‘Do you have to do that as well?’

  ‘No, only men do that, thank God,’ said Peggy. ‘At first when the doors were opened the searing heat was so powerful we both found it difficult to breathe. And the furnaces have to be attended all the time, turning the load to make sure it’s the right consistency to be able to roll it.’

  ‘What happens then?’ Sarah asked.

  ‘Well, it goes through other rollers, getting finer and finer,’ Violet said. ‘Then it’s cut into lengths, loaded on to a bogey with tongs and weighed. That’s my job, manning the weighing machine, because they didn’t think I was strong enough to wheel the bogeys away to the other shop where they are turned into railway lines.’

  ‘Sounds like my idea of hell,’ Marion said.

  ‘And mine,’ Sarah replied.

  ‘It helps that I feel I’m doing something useful,’ Peggy said. ‘I suppose we could have chosen something else, but then I think of Sam – all the men, really. I mean, they had little choice, did they?’

  ‘I suppose not,’ Marion said. ‘And I think the hardest thing is not knowing where they are, especially when Europe is such a scary place to be with country after country falling into German hands.’

  ‘Well, then,’ said Peggy. ‘Let’s hope that that fort holds up like it’s supposed to and protects Holland and Belgium.’

  ‘Oh, hear, hear to that,’ said Marion.

  In early May Hitler’s Luftwaffe attacked Holland’s airfields. They called it blitzkrieg – lightning war – and the savagery of it left the Dutch Air Force with just twelve planes. At the same time, paratroopers were landed on the impregnable fort and it was in German hands in less than twenty-four hours, opening up the way for tanks and armies to cross unopposed into Belgium. No one was surprised when Holland finally surrendered after the Luftwaffe blitzed Rotterdam so badly that almost a thousand people were killed.

  Then on the evening of Tuesday 14 May, Anthony Eden, Secretary of State for War, gave a broadcast on the BBC Home Service. ‘… we are going to ask you to help us in a manner which I know will be welcome to thousands of you. 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 and offer their services … the name of the new Force which is now to be raised will be “the Local Defence Volunteers” … a part-time job, so there will be no need for any volunteer to abandon his present occupation. You will not be paid but you will be armed … In order to volunteer what you have to do is give in your name at the local police station …’

  Richard was cross that he wasn’t yet even sixteen and could do nothing to help protect his country. He had a horror of jackbooted Nazis parading the streets of Birmingham and he knew it could easily happen for it really did seem as if the Germans were unstoppable.

  Marion was also desperately worried about Bill because letters from him, which had previously come on a fairly regular basis, had stopped. Everyone was well aware of this except the younger children.

  Sarah, worried herself, tried to assure her mother. ‘If Dad is actively engaged in something then he wouldn’t be able to write letters or get them to you, would he?’

  ‘No,’ Marion said sadly. ‘But it might be far worse than that, and you know it as well as I do. He might have been killed. Some of the fighting has been ferocious.’

  ‘Yes, I know,’ Sarah said. ‘I’m not stupid. But,’ she added almost fiercely, ‘I shan’t think of it or believe it until I’m told otherwise, and neither should you, if only for the sake of the twins and Tony.’

  Marion knew that Sarah’s attitude was the right one and yet it was hard to accept for every day the news worsened. Then a directive was broadcast that all owners of boats of 30 foot long or more and capable of crossing the Channel, and living on the south coast had to register them with the Admiralty. This applied to yachts and pleasure boats of all sorts, barges, and fishing boats.

  ‘What’s that all about?’ Marion said.

  Nobody knew then, but a few days later, when news reached them that the Allied army was in retreat, Richard could see from his map that the Germans were trying to drive the Allies onto the beaches.

  ‘If they manage to do that then the big naval ships won’t be able to go in very far to take them off, will they?’

  ‘Oh, you mean when they asked for the small boats capable of crossing the Channel it was all about rescuing our soldiers?’ Peggy cried.

  ‘I think so.’

  ‘You’re probably right,’ Marion said. ‘But I don’t see that little boats will get many off.’

  ‘No,’ Richard said morosely, well aware that one of those soldiers trapped on the beaches could be his father, and when his eyes met Sarah’s he knew that she thought exactly the same.

  Marion was nearly out of her mind with worry over Bill, but trying to keep a lid on it for the sake of the children. Her anxiety was, however, shared with Peggy, who’d had a letter from her mother to ask her if she’d heard from Sam for they’d heard nothing from him for some time. Neither had Peggy, and all they could do was wait.

  By the time the owners of the registered boats had been asked to assemble at Sheerness on 27 May, they revealed that Operation Dynamo, which was the code name for evacuation of the Allies from the beaches of Dunkirk, had already been going on for five days. Now the veil of secrecy was lifted and as well as private boats, the lifeboats were lifted from liners and the tugs sailed down from the Thames. Even some of the owners of unregistered boats, hearing of the plight of the stranded soldiers, set sail on their own.

  The boats were used to ferry the men to Royal Naval ships lying at anchor in deeper water. When the ships were filled to capacity they would head back to Ramsgate to unload the soldiers and return to start again. All the time, bombs would b
e falling round them and the Stukas dive-bombing the soldiers and rescuers alike.

  By the time the operation was disbanded on 4 June it was estimated that over 192, 000 British, and 140, 000 French soldiers had been rescued. It had been an amazing achievement, but lots of equipment and artillery had been lost.

  The night the evacuation was stopped, Winston Churchill gave a speech in the House of Parliament, which was broadcast on the wireless.

  ‘We shall go on to the end … we shall fight on the seas and oceans, we shall fight with growing confidence and growing strength in the air, we shall defend our island, whatever the cost may be, we shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in hills; we shall never surrender …’

  It was stirring stuff and just what the British people needed, for nearly all were at least apprehensive and some plain scared: a very small stretch of water separated Britain from France, which was fighting for its very survival.

  There was still no news of Bill, though. Then, a week later, a letter dropped through the letterbox. Marion snatched it up from the mat. She knew Bill’s writing well, and if he could write her a letter he couldn’t be dead. Then she was running down the corridor to the kitchen, ripping the envelope open as she did so.

  The lodgers and Richard had left for work but the children and Sarah were eating their breakfasts at the table and saw their mother’s face wreathed in a smile the like of which they hadn’t seen for some time.

  Sarah looked at her quizzically and Marion, after scanning the letter, burst out breathlessly, ‘Your father is alive and well. He’s hurt his leg and is in hospital in Ramsgate, but he will be all right.’

  ‘Oh, Mom.’ Tears of relief ran down Sarah’s face as she hugged her mother. ‘Didn’t I tell you not to worry till you had cause?’

  Magda looked at Missie and knew she thought the same, about grown-ups crying when they should be happy. Tony took advantage of her mother’s preoccupation to put an extra spoon of sugar on his porridge and Magda opened her mouth to protest, but shut it again, knowing instinctively her mother was in no mood to deal with it, and contented herself with kicking Tony on the shin.

  ELEVEN

  When Paris fell and France formally surrendered on 22 June, everyone in Britain knew that they were staring the threat of invasion in the face. The frantic government advised people to hide maps, and disable cars and bicycles not in use. Signposts were removed and the names of stations blacked out to confuse any invader.

  Peggy and Violet worked till seven o’clock most nights, and so did Richard. Much valuable equipment had been left in France and on the borders of Belgium, and replacements had to be made as quickly as possible. Overtime was not seen as merely an option any more. Then the anticipated bombing from the air began as the Luftwaffe pounded the southern coastal towns night after night. People looked at the newspaper pictures of the destruction wreaked on innocent civilians and their homes with dismay and fear.

  ‘Well,’ Polly said to Marion one day not long after the bombing began, ‘the gloves are well and truly off now. Five nights running those poor souls have had to suffer it. We know what them German buggers are capable of. The poor little kids evacuated to the South Coast out of the cities because they decided that they were safer there have changed their tune now. They’ll have to find some other place for them. Some of the mothers are taking them back, anyroad. I mean, I know they did that anyway in the beginning when no bombs fell or owt, but more have taken them back now. All them posters are going up everywhere to dissuade them. You know, the one showing kids in the country having a great time, with the sun shining and the sky blue, and “Don’t Do It Mother” written across the top.’

  ‘Yeah, but it isn’t always like that,’ Marion said. ‘It’s been in the paper that some evacuated kids have had a dreadful time.’

  ‘They have,’ Polly said. ‘Gladys Kendrick down our yard sent her two lads. We said she was mad to even consider it but anyroad they went. One was nine and one eleven, and when she went to this farm in Wales to see them she was shocked. The farmer was using them in place of his farm hands that had been called up, and had them up at the crack of dawn and hard at work before and after school and all weekend. Gladys said their hands was all cracked and the only place they had to sleep was in a little cubbyhole off the landing. She said they was skin and bone because they weren’t given enough to eat.’

  ‘That’s dreadful!’

  ‘I agree,’ Polly said. ‘As you can imagine, Gladys had them out of there straight away. She went to the evacuation centre in the Council House and wiped the floor with them. She said she didn’t want any other child sent there. When she got them home the kids also told her that unless the farmer or his wife was telling them to do summat, they spoke Welsh all the time. They was real unhappy. Anyroad, whatever happens, she’s not sending them away again and she’s promised them that.’

  ‘I never considered it,’ Marion said. ‘Anyway, there won’t be any place of safety if we are invaded.’

  ‘You’re right,’ Polly said with an emphatic nod. ‘If invasion does come, I’d want us all to face it together.’

  ‘I’ll say,’ Marion agreed. ‘And yet it must be awful as well for the people going through these raids. How do they cope with their houses being destroyed like that? I would be heartbroken.’

  Polly shrugged. ‘God knows. Good job they moved Bill out, though. Poor sods – to be rescued from Dunkirk only to be bloody bombed to bits once they reached Blighty.’

  ‘It must have been awful, but at least now he’s here it will be easier for me to get to see him,’ Marion said.

  ‘Fancy him being moved to the General, just a short tram ride away.’

  Marion nodded happily. ‘He said that as the military hospitals are bursting at the seams, ordin ary hospitals are reserving so many wards for servicemen.’

  ‘And how is he in himself like?’ Polly asked. ‘Did he tell you in the letter?’

  ‘He’s doing well. The doctors are pleased with him, anyroad, though the move was a bit uncomfortable for him, but whichever way you look at it he was lucky. He’s alive and doing well, and I’m off to see him this weekend. I can’t wait. I can’t take the twins or Tony, though, because they don’t allow children under twelve onto the wards, but in his last letter Bill did say that when the Hospital are finished with him he’ll be having some time at home to convalesce. It cheered the kids up a bit when I told them that. Ooh, Polly,’ Marion said, wrapping her arms around her sister with delight, ‘it will be just smashing to have him home for a few days.’

  ‘Yeah, I should think so,’ Polly said, smiling. She knew she would have felt the same as Marion if the circumstances had been reversed and Marion knew that the bolster would stay at the back of the wardrobe, where she had put when Bill came home on embarkation leave the last time.

  She saw her sister looking at her quizzically and felt her face flush, and to stop Polly asking embarrassing questions she said, ‘Good news about Peggy’s brother Sam too, isn’t it?’

  Polly hid her smile because she knew what Marion was doing, and why. She said, ‘Yes, shot up with shrapnel, wasn’t he?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Marion said. ‘He was transferred to a military hospital in Sutton Coldfield while they dig it all out.’

  ‘Oh, Sutton Coldfield, where the posh nobs live?’

  ‘That’s the place Bill should have gone to. They have a barracks up there so I suppose it is a good place to site a military hospital,’ Marion explained. ‘Anyway, Peggy has been to see him and says he’s bearing up well, considering he was peppered with the stuff. Apparently, they thought at one point that he wouldn’t make it, but he’s proved to be a fighter and he reckons he will be out in a week or two. Peggy asked if he could come down to see her then, and of course I said he’d be welcome. If he wants he can stay over and bunk in with the boys. Still first things first, and that is me going to see Bill and trying to keep my
excitement in check until then. Magda told me once that when she is excited about something, she fizzes inside like a bottle of pop. I laughed at the time, but now I know just what she means.’

  ‘Get away with you,’ Polly said with a chuckle, giving her sister a push. ‘It’s two full days more before you can get to see your precious Bill.’

  When Marion did eventually get to see Bill the following Sunday afternoon, she was shocked by his appearance. His face was etched with lines that hasn’t been there before and his skin was the colour of putty. His hair, which had been streaked with grey when he had marched off to war, was now steel grey all over.

  His eyes were the same, though, and they brightened when he saw Marion. ‘Ain’t you got kiss for me then?’

  ‘I don’t want to hurt you.’

  ‘How could a kiss hurt me?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Marion said. ‘What’s the bulge in the bed?’

  ‘Oh, that’s a cage thing protecting my leg, that’s all,’ Bill said. ‘Come on, you’ve got to welcome a returning hero properly. Let’s have a big smacker.’

  Marion leaned over gingerly, but when their lips touched she was staggered by the shaft of desire that shot through her.

  Bill was surprised and very pleased by the kiss. He smelled again the lily of the valley perfume Marion had always worn and when they eventually broke away, he sighed in contentment as he said, ‘Oh, Marion, you’re a sight for sore eyes. I can’t tell you how good it is to see you.’

  ‘I feel the same,’ Marion told him, and her eyes were shining. ‘It looks like you haven’t been looked after properly. You never carried much weight, but now you are positively skinny and you have big bags under your eyes.’

  ‘I’m all right,’ Bill protested. ‘I have little appetite because I’m not doing much, and the bags are probably because I’m not sleeping that well.’

  Marion was immediately solicitous. ‘Ah, Bill! Is your leg giving you much pain?’

  Bill didn’t tell Marion that it wasn’t his leg keeping him awake as much as the memories stored in his head. He just said that it was getting better so the pain was easing.