Bobby's War

by Shirley Mann

  ‘Just a few things I managed to smuggle on board without your friend’s weight,’ he told Hans with a wink. The bag split open and out dropped tins of Spam, dried milk and egg powder. Hans ran to pick up the scattered items and with his arms full, he turned his face upwards, towards the departing plane. There were tears running down his cheeks.

  Edward showed Rebecca the undercarriage where she would have to go, recognising that the confined space would certainly not house his six-foot-two inch body but would easily fit the tiny frame of the woman. He put a parachute under her head, hoping they would not need to use it and she lay down without a murmur.

  ‘Are you all right, Madame Waters?’

  ‘Oui,’ she replied weakly.

  ‘You are safe now,’ he told her, laying his hand on her head gently.

  Her wide eyes blurred over with tears and then she started to sob convulsively until the aircraft had almost reached the coastline, when she finally fell into an exhausted sleep.

  ‘Bit of flak coming,’ Philip called from the front.

  ‘Damnation,’ Edward muttered, looking worriedly at the sleeping woman. They did not need this.

  The aircraft began to veer from left to right as the coastal defences of the enemy fired at them, prompting bursts of fire on either side of the wings.

  Edward Turner was not a particularly religious man, but for the next few interminable minutes, he prayed in desperation for someone or something to protect this vulnerable woman who had already seen her English husband shot, had been forced to abandon her daughter to a stranger, and had suffered goodness knows what horrors in a concentration camp.

  There was a loud noise and the Lysander suddenly lurched to one side.

  ‘We’re hit but I think we’ll make it,’ Philip shouted. ‘It’s the wing but at least they didn’t get the fuel tank.’

  For a moment, Edward imagined the dangers Bobby had faced every day on her own in the cockpit of so many different planes and felt a profound guilt that he had not afforded her the admiration and respect she deserved. He hoped he would be granted the chance to live long enough to rectify that.

  The aircraft was now approaching the English coast, which looked glorious in the April morning.

  ‘I’ve radioed ahead, we’re landing at Halesworth. It’s full of Yanks but hey ho, we can’t be fussy. Right, I just need to concentrate to get this bugger onto the ground. Fortunately, it’s a slow prop and the engine will run slow.’

  Edward peered out of the window, the wing on his side was charred and had pieces of twisted metal shining in the sunlight.

  ‘It’s going to be bumpy, you’d better prepare her,’ Philip said.

  Edward looked down at Rebecca, whose eyes had opened. There was no fear just the resignation of someone who had faced death too many times. Edward clenched his teeth; this woman was not going to die if he had anything to do with it.

  ‘Not sure the landing gear’s going to work, brace yourselves,’ Philip said in a tense voice.

  Edward took off his own parachute and tucked it around Rebecca, struggling to keep his balance in the rocking plane, then he flung himself onto the floor over her to use his body as protection against any shattering metal that might come her way.

  The wheel mechanism grated and ground but gradually, the wheels clicked into place.

  ‘Stand by, this is it,’ the pilot shouted. ‘We’re supposed to make a three-point landing but we may go over.’

  Edward knew he meant that all three wheels were supposed to touch down together, it was that manoeuvrability that gave these planes the edge on quick take offs and landings, and he held his breath.

  The plane juddered onto the runway and then skidded. It lurched over onto one side and Edward wrenched his shoulder trying to keep his position. The Lysander seemed to go into slow motion until it finally came to a standstill, but at the last moment, the hatch above them shattered and Edward was showered with shards of Perspex.

  ‘Get out now!’ Phillip yelled. ‘We’re on the fuel tank.’

  Edward quickly got up and dragged Rebecca with him. She had gone limp and he feared she had been hurt. His shoulder was killing him, but he used every ounce of strength to use his other shoulder to push the rest of the Perspex out and projected her in front of him, hoping there was someone to catch her below.

  He followed and fell onto the tarmac. Two men scooped Rebecca up and then a voice came from the distance. ‘For God’s sake, man, run! It’s going to blow.’

  He hurriedly got to his feet and ran as fast as he could but was suddenly hurled into the air by an explosion that resounded in his ears as the aircraft burst into flames. With a cry he landed on his damaged shoulder on the tarmac with a cry and three burly firemen picked him up like a rag doll.

  ‘Is she all right?’ he said to them faintly.

  ‘She’s OK, mate, we’ve got her,’ one of the men replied, just as Edward passed out.

  Chapter 48

  It was April 1945 and the country was celebrating the suicide of Hitler. Everywhere Bobby looked, people seemed brighter, more optimistic. She grinned at the ground crew who were laughing and joking next to the Anson she was flying in to Coltishall.

  ‘You won’t be flying these for long,’ one of them pronounced with satisfaction as he watched her climb the wing. ‘It’ll be back to a normal life for you girls.’

  Bobby looked at him in horror, she had not contemplated what the end of the war would mean for her and all her ATA friends. At Coltishall, she borrowed a bicycle to ride to the farm where she found everyone in a state of anticipation and all thoughts about the future were banished from her head. Her mother greeted her at the door, looking rosy-cheeked and excited. Bobby hardly recognised her.

  ‘I’m so glad you could get here, Bobby. Do you have any idea what’s going on?’

  Bobby shook her head.

  Her mother went on. ‘A very efficient Miss Arbuckle telephoned. She said she would be accompanying Edward to see us this afternoon. I don’t know why either.’

  ‘Nope, he just asked if I could be here. What is that man up to now?’ Bobby replied.

  Her aunt came out of the kitchen and gave her a hug. ‘I must say, Bobby, I do find him rather exciting, don’t you?’

  Bobby looked at her aunt, who had a conspiratorial grin on her face. A quiet watcher of people, Agnes had long ago made her mind up about Edward. It had not taken long for her to suspect there were hidden depths to him and she had started to believe he was just the right partner for her headstrong niece. At the breakfast table in their little cottage that morning, she had told Archie she was going to do everything she could to encourage the relationship between Bobby and Edward Turner.

  ‘Aunt Agnes, I’m surprised at you’, Bobby said ‘You’ve become quite mischievous since you got married, haven’t you?

  ‘I know and it’s really good fun. I think Edward Turner’s enough of a challenge for any woman, maybe even you.’ And with that pronouncement, she turned on her heel with a satisfied smile and went to check the scones, which were in the oven for afternoon tea.

  Elizé came hurtling into the hallway. She flung her arms around Bobby.

  ‘We’ve got potato scones for tea,’ she said jumping up and down. ‘I helped make them. Aren’t I clever?’

  Bobby swung her up in the air, making her giggle. ‘Yes, you’re very clever, ma petite. And I’m sure they’re better than mine. Archie always called mine rock cakes, very rudely, I thought!’

  ‘Hmm, yours are terrible, mine are scrummy,’ the child said, laughing.

  A car came up the gravel drive and Bobby stole a quick look in the mirror. It was too late now, she thought with regret, seeing her tangled hair, and quickly ran her fingers through it, trying in vain to inject some style.

  Andrew Hollis came out of his study, put his hand on his daughter’s shoulder in greeting and went out onto the porch.

  A black sedan had drawn up and a lady in a maroon tweed suit with a matching hat and cream glove
s emerged from the back seat. Mavis Arbuckle stood taking in the scene in front of her. Her eyes immediately pinned on Bobby and she peered at her through her pince-nez. Edward, sporting a sling on his arm, got out of the front and went around the car to the other side to help out a tiny, frail woman dressed in a dress and cardigan that were both too big for her. Her hair was combed into a slide and her eyes were bright.

  Elizé burst from behind Bobby. She ran, then stopped, clamped her hands to her mouth, then ran again.

  ‘Maman, Maman. Oh c’est vraiment toi!’

  She almost knocked the frail frame of her mother over in her enthusiasm, unable to believe it was really her. The thin, emaciated woman and the little child clung to each other and both started to sob.

  Everyone on the porch was stunned. Mrs Hill and Rachel had sneaked out from the kitchen and Rachel uttered a squeal and reached out to squeeze Mrs Hill’s arm. She had heard so much from Elizé about this woman and then, by some wonder, she was here in Norfolk. Mrs Hill stood transfixed but then felt her arm going numb so gently removed Rachel’s fingers, one at a time. At that point, the two women hugged each other and jumped up and down.

  Bobby and her parents moved very slowly forward as Edward took a step towards them. He looked very pale.

  Bobby ran towards him. ‘Edward, what have you done to yourself, you look terrible,’ she placed her hand on his arm.

  ‘Well, that’s not the welcome I had in mind,’ he replied with a laugh and then winced at the pain from his ribs. Bobby looked him up and down to check for more damage but was relieved to find that, otherwise, he seemed to be in one piece.

  He greeted Mr and Mrs Hollis and then turned to introduce Mavis Arbuckle, who was having the time of her life. At last, she believed she had met the woman who had turned Edward Turner upside down and, assessing Bobby’s trousers, boots and untamed hair, she nodded her approval.

  Elizé called over between sobs. ‘Bobby, it’s ma mère. You see, I told you she was alive and oh, elle est ici, she is here . . . she is . . .’

  She buried her head in her mother’s skirts, unable to speak any more. Elizé’s mother clasped her thin arms around her daughter and bowed her head so that the two heads intertwined.

  Andrew Hollis went to over to the pair and said gently, ‘Bienvenue, madame. We are so, so pleased to have you here,’ and he slowly led her and the clinging child towards the house. He noticed that Elizé’s mother could hardly walk and that her strength was being eroded with every painful step and he felt an emotion he had not felt for years. To see this tiny woman, who was the living embodiment of the ravages of war, pierced his heart like nothing he had experienced since he walked up this path from the Great War. Mathilda proudly led them all into the drawing room, just as Raoul and Michel came through the back door. They had been helping on the farm and only stopped to take their boots off before following the commotion.

  They looked in wonder at the woman.

  ‘She’s Elizé’s mother,’ Rachel whispered to them. They looked incredulously at the slight figure and then Raoul, for once, cowed into silence, clasped his son’s hands.

  ‘Un miracle, Michel, un miracle!’

  Mrs Hill burst into life. ‘Tea and scones, I think. Now, Rachel, now!’ Rachel bustled off to the kitchen while the rest of the party settled into the chairs. Everyone waited expectantly, looking at Edward.

  From the first moment he had entered the farm, so long ago, it had somehow become a natural expectation for him to take the lead. Even Andrew sat silently, waiting.

  ‘Rebecca – Madame Waters – was in a camp,’ Edward said.

  There was a moment’s pause while everyone made the connection between the rumours and the reality of the painfully thin woman in front of them.

  ‘We managed to get her out, and here she is.’

  With those few words, he deflected any questions and Mrs Hill handed out the scones.

  *

  Edward had left the drawing room to get some fresh air. He went outside and lit a cigarette. He was in a great deal of pain but his relief that his plan had all come together made it all worthwhile.

  ‘Edward.’ Bobby’s voice came from behind him. He whirled round but then grimaced with pain.

  ‘Are you all right, Edward?’

  ‘A bit battered and bruised but yes, I’m fine.’

  She had moved forward, and put her hand on his lapel. He leaned down and softly kissed her.

  Mavis Arbuckle had been to organise the timings with the chauffeur and was on her way back to the house when she spotted the couple. She tightened her hands on her handbag to stop herself from clasping them together in glee.

  She had been delighted when Edward had asked her to come on this trip as female companion to Madame Waters. She had immediately suspected that this ‘over and above’ mission her boss had undertaken would lead to a woman and as soon as she had sized up Roberta Hollis, in her boots, standing with her arms folded, she had been hoping this was the end of the rainbow and that this striking young woman was the pot of gold Edward had been searching for all his life. She hurried past the pair of them, giving them a wide berth, her head lowered to hide her beaming smile, but neither of them even registered she was there.

  ‘Bobby, can we start again?’ Edward was saying. ‘I think, after Hitler’s suicide, we may soon, finally, be able to get on with our own lives . . .’ He stopped for a moment, looked at the gravel beneath his feet and decided a bended-knee proposal would be scorned and anyway, he was not sure his injured body would be able to get up again.

  Bobby waited and then broke in. ‘Well, if you’re about to ask me to marry you, you’d better get a move on, Edward Turner, or all the scones will be gone!’

  They both burst out laughing and Edward knew he had found a woman who would defy conventionality like him and embrace life as an adventure.

  They went arm in arm back to the house but then Edward stopped in his tracks. ‘So, if I were to get down on one knee and ask the question, what would you say?’

  ‘You know you’d never get up,’ she grinned, adding, ‘I’m not sure what I’d say. You’re still on probation, but maybe one day, yes, maybe one day I will say yes,’ she teased, squeezing his sore arm. He didn’t feel any pain.

  Chapter 49

  Hamble was not the same place once VE Day had triumphantly heralded victory in Europe. The urgency to get planes to waiting pilots around the country had diminished and the ATA girls were spending far too much time playing backgammon or sewing. The tensions in the restroom were fraught with frustration and Bobby was one of the worst offenders.

  ‘I can’t bear it!’ she said finally, throwing down the needle and cotton she had been using to mend a blouse. ‘I’m so bored, I feel like just kidnapping an aircraft and taking off.’

  Sally nodded, she had played three games of patience and had not managed to get rid of all the cards once. Daphne, too, was looking forlorn.

  Christine bounded over. ‘Come on, you lot, let’s go for a brisk walk around the camp.’

  They all groaned. Daphne threw a cushion at her.

  ‘We’ve been on three already this week, I’m beginning to know every blade of grass,’ she said.

  The door opened and an ops manager came in. ‘I need someone to take a Spitfire to Cosford, one of the last ones. Anyone want to go?’

  They all jumped up but Sally grabbed the cards and put her hands out to stop them all.

  ‘We’re going to do this fairly,’ she announced. ‘The highest card wins,’ and she shuffled the pack. The little group held their breath as the cards were handed out.

  ‘Wait,’ Daphne said, her downturned card in her hand. ‘Is ace high or low?’

  ‘Well as we’re all pilot aces, I think it should be high!’ Sally laughed.

  Bobby slowly turned her card over. It was an ace. She triumphantly held it aloft, and then had a momentary feeling of guilt that she had won, but the girls crowded round her and clapped her on the back, enjoying
her triumph. She felt overwhelmed and hugged them all.

  ‘Well, I couldn’t have gone anyway,’ Sally was saying. ‘I have a date with that Lord we met at the Embassy do and I’m not giving that up for anything. Not even a Spit.’

  ‘You enjoy every minute of it,’ Daphne added. ‘I flew one yesterday, so I’ve sort of said my goodbyes. Anyway, I’m just dying for that march around the camp with Christine!’ and she went over to grab a delighted Christine’s arm before heading towards the door.

  *

  When Bobby walked over to the plane, she was astonished to see a guard of honour from the Erks who had lined up, ready to salute her as she passed, her parachute over her shoulder as always. She laughed as they burst into applause and then gave them all a final sharp salute before swinging up onto the wing.

  Bobby tried to make the flight happen in slow motion. She did every check twice, lovingly touched the instruments and verified her route several times. She was not going to waste a moment of this last trip.

  The Spitfire took off and she soared into the blue sky. There was no feeling like it in the world and she felt grief-stricken that she might not be able to fly these wonderful machines again. By the time she got to Cosford, she was in tears and had to sit in the cockpit for a moment to regain her composure. She put her hand out to touch the panel in front of her and bowed her head in reverence to a machine that had helped so much in saving Britain from defeat.

  In a desperate bid to make the moment count, she got out her pen and on the underside of the dashboard in front of her, wrote her name and the date, wondering whether any pilot in the future would spot it and wonder who Roberta Hollis was.

  It took a moment for her to realise that flying planes like this one had also helped her to discover who Roberta Hollis was. The girl who had joined the ATA all those years ago had been completely self-absorbed, a state that had evolved out of necessity, and since then she had found her family, friends, a purpose and maybe, she thought, someone she could love.

  *

  The day of Harriet and Gus’s wedding started off dull but then the blue skies broke through and it promised to be a perfect day.