by June Tate
She watched Sarah queue for a bus and take a seat upstairs. Dora quickly climbed on the lower deck and sat down. Not knowing Sarah’s destination, she bought a ticket which took her to the last stop. As they neared the outskirts of the town, Sarah alighted and walked away, and just before the conductor rang the bell, her mother also got off, keeping her distance, making sure she wasn’t seen. She had to keep hiding in the hedgerows as there were hardly any people around.
She was surprised when Sarah walked in through the gates of a farmhouse. Dora stopped, wondering what to do. She walked along a bit further where, peering over a hedge, she could see the cow sheds, and to her surprise saw a man in German uniform walk forward and embrace her daughter.
Dora Briggs was horrified and furious. Now she had discovered her daughter’s duplicity, she was fuming. Cunning little bitch! she thought, Well she wasn’t having it. In any case, how could it be possible for an enemy of the country to be allowed such freedom? There didn’t seem to be any sentries around. She walked back to the bus stop and waited.
She would go to the council. This wasn’t right. Her Sarah was in moral danger; God knows what was going on. It had to be stopped before it got completely out of hand.
Unaware of all this, Gunter and Sarah worked together for the rest of the morning. He tried to show her how to milk a cow, with hysterical results. The cow moved suddenly, and Sarah ended up off the milking stool, on her backside, the pail of milk spilt over her feet.
‘Bloody good job you ain’t marrying a farmer, lass!’ said Mr Brown, who walked into the barn at that moment. ‘You’d be hopeless!’
Getting up and trying to wipe away the milk and hay, she had to agree with him.
Ten
Two weeks later when Sarah arrived at the farm on the usual Sunday morning she was met by Ethel Brown, the farmer’s wife. ‘Come in, my dear,’ she said.
The kindly woman looked so worried that Sarah wondered if something bad had happened to her husband. ‘Is something wrong?’ she asked.
‘Sit down, my lass, I’ll make us a cup of tea.’
Sarah waited with growing concern.
Mrs Brown eventually sat at the table with her. ‘I’m afraid I’ve some bad news. Gunter has been moved.’
This was the last thing Sarah expected, and she felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her. ‘Where is he . . . ? When did this happen . . . ? Do you have an address for him?’ The questions poured forth.
Shaking her head, Ethel said, ‘I have no idea where he is. Some soldiers came one day, had a few brief words with him, bundled him upstairs to get his things and drove him away.’ She paused for breath. ‘My husband questioned them, of course, but they gave no explanation, and what’s more we won’t be having another to take his place.’
Sarah was stunned. ‘Did he leave me a message?’
‘He didn’t even have time to say goodbye; he was as surprised as we were. I can’t imagine why they’ve done this. To me, it’s a complete mystery.’
The young girl sat, stunned. How on earth was she to find out where he was? She couldn’t sit and do nothing. Gunter and she were going to spend their lives together after the war. They loved one another! Tears filled her eyes. ‘Oh Mrs Brown, what am I to do?’
‘Well, my dear, all I can suggest is that you go to the military authorities and enquire. I can’t think of anything else. You can leave me your address, and then if I do hear anything, I’ll let you know. Come on now, have a nice strong cup of tea, it’s good for shock.’
Sarah sat on the bus on the way home, absolutely devastated. Gunter hadn’t done anything wrong, he’d worked hard, and the Browns had been more than satisfied with his work, so why? Perhaps all the prisoners were to be moved. She had to find out, but she’d have to wait until tomorrow as she doubted the necessary office would be open on a Sunday. But she would take the following morning off and try and discover what had happened. She needed to be able to write to Gunter. He’d be so worried, and he didn’t have her address to write to, anyway. The whole thing was a complete mess! She couldn’t go straight home or her mother would wonder why she was home so early and start to question her, so she stopped off at Hoglands Park to kill time and watch the Americans playing baseball.
Lots of the GIs were there, and many of the locals who had become interested, even if they didn’t understand the rules – and, of course, many young women of the town on the lookout for a free pair of nylons, plus a host of children asking for gum.
Joe Kowalski was also watching, interested in both the game and the girls. He’d caught the eye of one young woman and was chatting to her, teaching her the rules, flirting with her, but when, towards the end of the game, he asked her to go out with him, she refused.
‘What do you mean, no?’ He was angry because he was sure that he’d scored.
She looked surprised by his response. ‘I said no. Besides, I already have a boyfriend.’
‘Then what the hell are you doing talking to me?’ he demanded.
She retaliated: ‘You were telling me the rules of the game, that’s all. You bloody Yanks, you’re all the same, you think every woman is easy pickings!’
He grabbed her by the arm. ‘Now you listen to me, bitch!’
‘What’s going on here? Let go of the girl, soldier.’
The note of authority in the voice made Kowalski turn. He looked into the face of Captain Brad Jackson.
‘Are you all right, young lady?’ asked Brad.
The girl wrenched her arm free. ‘Now I am, thanks to you.’ She glared at Joe. ‘You need to teach him some manners!’
As the girl walked away, Brad turned to the GI. ‘I want you in my office at oh nine hundred hours tomorrow, soldier – and don’t be late!’
‘Sir!’ Kowalski saluted and turned away, fuming. ‘Friggin’ women,’ he grumbled. ‘They give you the come on, then shut you out!’
He was heckled by one or two other soldiers, which didn’t help his temper, and he gave them a lot of abuse before he stormed away. He walked to the Horse and Groom, which had just opened, and ordered a beer.
The place soon started to fill up, and he sat at a table watching until he saw a couple of the regular prostitutes enter. The girls stood at the bar and looked around for likely punters whilst they waited to be served. Dorothy, Rusty’s friend, was one of the girls, and she immediately recognized the American and quickly whispered to her friend, who cast a glance at the soldier over her shoulder.
Kowalski eyed them both before deciding that he preferred the blonde. He rose from his seat and walked over to the bar. ‘Can I get you girls a drink?’ he asked.
‘No, thank you,’ said Dorothy very quickly.
‘That’s not very friendly,’ he said, his eyes narrowing.
‘We’ve just come in for a quiet drink and a chat,’ said the other. ‘Sorry.’ She picked up their two half-pint glasses and the girls left him standing – feeling a fool. This was turning out to be a really bad day, he thought angrily as he returned to his seat.
It didn’t get any better. He got into an argument with two British soldiers, who baited him about America not wanting to be involved in the war, happy to let the Europeans take the brunt of the fighting, until they were bombed at Pearl Harbour.
‘And now look at you Yanks!’ stated one. ‘You strut around flashing your money, your nylons, your Camel cigarettes and your gum, thinking you’re the answer to every woman’s prayer. You can’t even march in step!’
The argument became so heated that the landlord came over. ‘That’s enough! You want to argue? Take it outside or I’ll bar the lot of you!’
With a lot of mumbling, the British soldiers moved to another part of the bar and to Kowalski’s great annoyance started talking to the two girls he had approached earlier. When, a little later, they all left together, he was furious. He sat until closing time, slowly getting drunk.
When the pub closed for the afternoon, he staggered to the park, curled up under a tree and slept. Thr
ee hours later he woke with a raging thirst and made his way to a cafe and had a meal followed by several cups of coffee, waiting for the pubs to open again.
Meantime, Sarah had left the baseball game and walked home. She hardly spoke to her mother as she made a cup of tea before sitting down to read the Sunday papers. But even though she looked at the pages of the newspaper, she didn’t read a word. She was thinking of Gunter and wondering how on earth she could find out where he was.
Dora Biggs watched her daughter and saw the unhappiness etched on her face. She guessed that she was the cause of it but had no regrets. She had to save Sarah from making a fool of herself, it was a mother’s duty. One day in the future, Sarah would thank her for her intervention.
Joe Kowalski went on a pub crawl that evening, and with the amount of alcohol he’d consumed earlier that day, he was soon in an alcoholic haze. Joe was never a happy drunk, and already in a bad mood, his consumption only fuelled his temper. He was thrown out of the Lord Roberts, in Canal Walk, and staggered down to the Grapes in Oxford Street, where he ordered a beer at the bar.
‘Sorry, soldier, you’ve had more than enough. I suggest you return to your barracks,’ said the landlord.
‘Gimme a beer, and less of your mouth!’
‘This is my pub, Yank, and you won’t get served here. Now leave, or I’ll put you out myself!’
The American was enraged. He grabbed an empty beer bottle off the bar and smashed it, pointing the jagged edges at the landlord. ‘Come on then. Let’s see what you’re made of, Limey!’
It was bad timing because, unknown to Joe, two military police had walked into the bar and seen the commotion. They walked up behind him and one of them, using his truncheon, knocked the bottle out of Kowalski’s hand. Before he knew what had happened he was handcuffed and bundled into a jeep, cursing loudly.
The next morning, Joe stood before Brad Jackson. He stood to attention, flanked by two military policemen. His head ached, and he felt like hell.
Brad read the report before him; then, looking up, he spoke. ‘Kowalski, you are a pain in the butt! You have the makings of a good soldier if it wasn’t for your mean disposition and your temper. Being in the army means you must be a team member, but you are a loner. You don’t mix with the other men, and when you go out on the town, you make trouble. I saw that for myself yesterday – and now this! God alone knows what you’d be like on the field of battle. My one concern is that you would be out for your own skin instead of helping your fellow soldier, and that worries me. I’m not at all sure I want you in my troop or any other. You are a liability.’
Kowalski’s heart sank. Being in the army was a way out from his mundane life. If he was court-martialled he’d have to return to Pennsylvania and the steel works. It was the last thing he wanted. ‘Permission to speak, sir?’
‘Permission granted.’
‘I know I’ve made a fool of myself, sir, and I apologize. I love the army; in fact, after the war, I’d thought of signing on as a regular. Just give me another chance and I promise I’ll be a better soldier and obey the rules.’ It cost him a great deal to plead, it was not in his nature to kowtow to anyone, but he had to stay in the army – the alternative was too much to contemplate.
Brad saw the genuine concern in Kowalski’s face. ‘You, soldier, can serve fourteen days in the glasshouse whilst I consider your future. Dismiss!’
Sarah Biggs sat in the waiting room of the local army headquarters the next morning, gripping her hands nervously. She had no idea how she would be received, especially as she would be enquiring about a prisoner of war, but she was determined.
Soon she was ushered into an office and invited to take a seat by the officer sitting behind the desk. ‘What can I do for you, Miss Biggs?’
She took a deep breath. ‘I am enquiring as to the whereabouts of Gunter Reinhardt, a prisoner of war who was working for Mr Brown at Cherry Tree Farm in Hedge End, but who has now been removed from there.’
The officer looked surprised. ‘Why are you interested in this man, miss?’
With a defiant look she said, ‘Because Gunter and I plan to marry after the war.’
‘Aren’t you a little young to be thinking about marriage? And to a German!’
‘Gunter and I are in love. It doesn’t matter to me that he is German!’
The officer rose to his feet and walked over to a filing cabinet. He admired the young girl’s spirit, but personally felt she was wasting her time. During a war, many young women fell for service personnel. It was a known fact, and with heartbreaking consequences mostly, but he would do what he could for her. He sorted through the files and pulled out one, which he took to his desk and read.
Sarah saw the officer frown. ‘Is something wrong?’
He sighed. ‘It would appear, Miss Biggs, that your mother complained to the authorities about your relationship with this young man.’ He read on and looked up from the papers. ‘It seems that you have been visiting Gunter Reinhardt at the farm – is that right?’
‘Yes, it was the only way we could meet, but I’m sure my mother didn’t know about it.’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘According to this report, she did, and she demanded that we put a stop to it. That’s why he was moved.’
Sarah was furious. ‘How dare she interfere!’
The young man looked at her kindly. ‘I’m sure she thought it was for the best.’
‘Where is Gunter now?’ Sarah demanded.
‘I am sorry, miss, but after reading this, I’m not at liberty to disclose that information.’
No pleading from Sarah could make him change his mind, and she left the office in tears. Tears that changed to anger as she made her way home. By the time she walked into the kitchen to face her mother, she was enraged. ‘How dare you interfere with my life!’
For a moment, Dora Biggs was startled, then she realized that her daughter had discovered her intervention. ‘I had no choice!’ she retorted. ‘I couldn’t stand by and see you get involved any further with this German. Who knows where it would have ended?’
‘We were going to get married after the war,’ Sarah cried. ‘That’s where it would have ended, Mother . . . in marriage.’
Dora was incandescent with rage. ‘Marriage? Marriage to a bloody German . . . ? Over my dead body!’
‘That’s as far as you can see, isn’t it? The fact that he is German, not that he is educated, a gentleman who hated the war. He’ll be a lawyer in civilian life, a noble profession, but no, to you he’s a German and that’s that! Well, let me tell you, I’ll move heaven and earth to find him, and you won’t stop me!’ She stormed out of the house.
Sarah walked to the enclosure were she’d first met Gunter and began to ask the other prisoners if they knew where he was. She had a mixed reception. Some of the men were rude to her, others ignored her, but her pleading reached the ears of one of Gunter’s friends. He walked over towards her. ‘Are you Sarah, Gunter’s girlfriend?’
‘Yes, yes, I am! Do you know where he is?’
He walked down the side, away from the others, and she followed on the other side of the barbed wire. ‘Can you help me?’ she begged.
‘I only saw him briefly whilst he waited for transport. He asked me to give you a message if I saw you.’
‘Yes?’ She waited eagerly.
‘He said that when he knew where he was being moved to, he’d write to Mrs Brown and tell her, then she could pass on the address to you.’
‘Oh, thank you, thank you so much.’ She beamed at him with relief.
‘I know that you’re both in love and plan to be together after the war. Gunter is a fine man, I hope you make it.’ With that, he strolled away.
Sarah was delighted. She’d write to Mrs Brown and tell her the news; then she’d have to wait until the farmer’s wife wrote to her with the address. She’d be on pins until she heard, but at least now she had something to cling to. When she knew where he was, she’d go and visit him, but she wouldn’t tel
l her mother. She would never trust her ever again.
Eleven
Brad Jackson drove out to Chilworth for a meeting with Jenny to discuss a forthcoming children’s Christmas party to be given by the Americans. Many of the troops were saving candy from their rations towards this end, and Brad wanted to confirm the arrangements.
Jenny opened the door and invited him in. ‘It’s good to see you, Brad, it’s been some time.’ She thought for a moment. ‘The last time was when you brought your girlfriend over to the stables. How’s she doing, by the way?’
‘Oh, Rusty’s fine. Full of life. She keeps me on my toes!’
They sat in the large kitchen and chatted about the party over several cups of coffee.
‘The boys are really looking forward to this shindig,’ he said. ‘You know how it is, Christmas is a family time, a time for children, and the men feel this even more when they’re away from home, so they’ve put a lot of effort into getting things done.’
She was delighted. ‘The children will be thrilled.’ A look of disappointment crossed her features. ‘I wanted children but it just didn’t happen.’
‘Did you go to your doctor about it?’
‘I did, but Adam refused. As far as I was concerned the doctor could find nothing wrong, and when I told Adam this, we had a fearful row. He accused me of thinking he wasn’t a man.’ She sighed. ‘Oh well.’
‘Have you heard from your husband?’
‘Off and on, not that he ever has a great deal to say – though you know, with censorship, it’s difficult.’
‘And what about your relationship with Chad?’ he asked softly.
Jenny looked at him for a moment before replying. ‘Chad is my guilty pleasure.’
‘Your what?’
‘You know, when you are doing something you know is wrong but you’re enjoying it immensely anyway. That’s a guilty pleasure.’
