Chapter 18
Mrs. Vaux was as good as her word, and a week later Ginger had moved out of the pub and in with her. When the boys told her about Mrs. Vaux's offer she'd gone to see her. The two of them got along very well. Mrs. Vaux had contacted a friend, who was a friend of the billeting officer. It didn't take long for arrangements to be made as the billeting officer was opposed the exploitation of evacuees, but often he couldn't do anything about it as billets were often hard to find. Some people thought evacuees from the slums were dirty and hard to handle. Indeed, being thrown into strange families with different customs had made some of them difficult to get along with. That was why the hostel had been opened to care for those having problems.
Now that the kitten had found a good home where Ginger could help to look after it, the three of them decided to keep using the old mill as a club house, even though their original reason for being there had vanished. The boys soon got used to the idea that Ginger could shin up the tree and scramble through the window every bit as easily as they could. Not that they spent a lot of time there, but it was a place to go when it was raining. Although it being winter meant it was often too cold.
The air raids continued and aircraft continued to be shot down. A land mine fell in the woods at the far end of The Green and flattened a block of houses near the road. People were killed. At times roads were closed as police, soldiers and Home Guards searched for airmen who'd parachuted from stricken aircraft.
One school morning, to Jeffrey's relief, Mr. Perkins announced the departure of Tommy Thorne. "Thomas Thorne," he told assembly, "is no longer a student at this school. He was caught stealing a chicken and some eggs from a local farm, and has been turned over to the authorities. I want to make it clear to you evacuees who have come from the city to our village for safety that farm produce belongs to the farmer. Once again let me say that stealing from farms will not be tolerated."
Jeffrey felt relief at what he though very good news, and because they were his friends, Ginger and Arthur felt the same way. Occasionally, the two boys worried about Ginger who often became very unhappy because she'd had no news about either her mother or father. Jeffrey would try to cheer her up. Sometimes this made her worse and she'd go home to Mrs. Vaux's. Other times she cheerfully went with the other two to search for souvenirs when a German aircraft had been downed.
In spite of being chased off by those guarding the wreckage they managed to amass a reasonable collection of twisted and bent pieces of metal either from bombs or anti-aircraft shells from the crash sites. At times they found bullets and cartridge cases from the cannons or machine guns that one side or the other had fired. They kept these in the room they'd prepared for the kitten. Now they had makeshift furniture of old planks of wood placed on brick bases. Each of them put their treasure in a separate spot in different areas of the room.
Often it wasn't possible for them all to go on these scavenger hunts together. Most often it was Jeffrey and Arthur, but not always. It could be Ginger and Jeffrey, or Ginger and Arthur, or any one of them might go out alone. But always they checked in at the mill before going home. There came a day when Ginger and Jeffrey met up at the tree entrance and, when they got inside, they found Arthur gloating over a long, slim cylinder about fourteen inches long tapered with vanes at one end, and the other end flat with two prongs sticking out.
Jeffrey's eyes went wide. "Arthur! Is that what I think it is?" he said, knowing full well it was.
"What is it?" Ginger asked.
"A German incendiary bomb. A live one."
"It's dangerous," Ginger said "You've got to give it to the police."
"Not likely," Arthur replied. "I've had it hidden for a long time. You're not to tell anyone."
"But you could get hurt."
"No I won't. I'm going to be careful."
Jeffrey grinned. "He needs it. He's got more haystacks to burn."
Arthur was a bit irritated. "Who says I burned a haystack? I want this in case the Germans invade."
Won't be much use, will it?" Ginger said, even though she was a bit more convinced that there might be a use for the weapon.
"When I see a German tank coming, I'm going to climb a tree and drop this on it." He stood up and carried the bomb to his collection. "Be careful around it. I'm sure it's live. It'll go off if it's dropped."
The other two still looked a bit doubtful, but said no more.
The weeks went by and the war went on. Little good news came over the radio. Still the bombing continued. Almost every day the reports came of people being killed or hurt, and houses or ancient buildings destroyed or damaged. Ginger's unhappy moods became more frequent.
"Cheer up," Jeffrey would say, often to be repulsed.
"It's all right for you; you know where your mum and dad are." Ginger would snap. "I haven't heard from mine in months. I never know if my dad's all right. He's out there on his destroyer guarding the merchant ships against Nazi submarines making sure there's food for your supper every night."
And Jeffrey knew that this was true and that all the convoys of merchant ships that sailed across the Atlantic, or up from Africa bringing food were in great peril from the U Boats Many merchant seamen were being killed or drowned when the ships were torpedoed and sunk.
Bomber Overhead Page 21
