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Strangely enough it was the silence that woke him again, the deathly quiet that still seemed so out of place that it bought him back to full consciousness in a split second leaving him momentarily confused as to where he was. Then the memories came crowding back: a kaleidoscope of smoke and flames, a cacophony of noise as earth shattering explosions mingled with incomprehensible screaming and men crying out for loved ones. He closed his eyes tighter as he tried to block out the horror but this only intensified the flashbacks making him groan loudly, his head twisting from side to side as he sought desperately to dislodge the nightmarish images that were plaguing him.

‘Shut up over there. We’re trying to sleep’ the disembodied voice was not one he recognised but why should he. He was no longer among friends, only strangers whose experiences happened to have coincided with his. But at least the voice had shattered the images and bought him back into the present, a present that was strangely devoid of sound or signs of life.

Now fully awake his eyes quickly accustomed themselves to the lack of light and he looked round at the dark silhouettes that surrounded him. Despite the proximity of so many other men he suddenly felt very much alone and his spirits sank even lower. It was cold in the field, the grass was damp and he found himself shivering, whether from cold or fear he was no longer sure. At least when the mortars were falling and the gunfire was raging all around he had been too busy surviving to be really frightened. But now it was all over his thoughts had room to breathe. Now it was quiet he could hear the nagging voice in his head giving substance to all the fears he had successfully ignored during the past few days.

He looked around guiltily as if his unspoken thoughts had been heard by the other men, but they all seemed to be sleeping. He could even hear snoring, a sound so normal and so out of place that he almost smiled, almost but not quite.

He was hungry, painfully so and he wondered when or even if they would be fed. Maybe he should just count his blessings and be grateful that he was still alive. He would at least have a chance to live, to go home to his family and the woman he loved, unlike so many of his friends whose lifeless bodies littered the streets, dunes and fields of Calais. The rumours that they would be shot if they surrendered had proved groundless, but he still couldn’t relax all the time there was the fear of not knowing where they were going and what was to happen to them. As his thoughts raced ahead to the unknown the German soldier’s casual threat of sending him to a salt mine hurtled into his mind and his heart began to race.

Fortunately a sharp pain in the calf muscle of his left leg broke into his thoughts, bringing him abruptly back to the present. Without thinking he kicked out wildly in the hope of easing the cramp that was now working its way relentlessly up his leg.

‘Oy what they hell do you think you’re doing?’ the voice spoke almost at the same instant that his foot made contact with the body of the man laying next to him.

‘Sorry mate, cramp’ Ted whispered hurriedly, not wanting to annoy anyone else. His mind was now firmly back in the present, his demons safely packed away in the dark recess of his mind.

‘Hmmp’ the man grunted and instantly went back to sleep leaving Ted watching him enviously. Now his eyes had adjusted to the darkness properly he could see more clearly the thousands of bodies spread out across the fields, many of them huddled up against the hedges to protect against the chill of the spring night. He could also just about make out the soldiers guarding them, their silhouettes etched clearly against the night sky. If he looked hard enough he could even see plumes of smoke rising in thin white columns as the soldiers huddling round their vehicles smoking and if he listened hard enough he could hear their guttural voices and the occasional burst of subdued laughter. Ted licked his dry, cracked lips wishing he too could smoke, but he had no cigarettes left and in any case he had nothing to light it with even if he had somehow managed to save one. Licking his lips had reminded him of how thirsty he was and he wished he had some water left, the need for a drink now overtaking his craving for a cigarette.

His thoughts turned to his family and he wondered what they were doing now. And Brenda? Was she thinking about him? Was she too looking up at the star filled night sky wondering about him? He smiled ruefully, he had no idea what time it was but it must be quite late so she was probably asleep in bed. This thought was somehow calming and for the first time in several days he relaxed slightly. But his mind seemed determined to give him no peace as within seconds the cataclysmic events of the past weeks flooded into his thoughts again.

‘So that’s it’ he thought ‘All that fighting, all those lives lost and it had all been for nothing. Calais had fallen anyway and the Germans had reached the coast. How long before they crossed the channel? How long before his family faced the wrath of the mighty Hun? Would he ever see any of them again? The idea of his family having to face the kinds of horrors he had witnessed made his stomach churn.

Despairingly his thoughts turned back to Brenda. How would she survive without him to protect her? And then, almost immediately, they took a different turn. Would she wait for him, however long it took, or would she forget him and find comfort with a German soldier? As soon as that thought entered his head he realised how absurd he was being. And then he smiled, the first real smile in days, as just remembering her sweet innocent face had suddenly given him back his courage. He would return; however long it took, whatever he had to do, he would survive and he would go home

Chapter 1

Monday 21st May 1940

Suffolk

Ted

‘Howzat!’ the thud of the ball colliding with the wicket, followed by the exultant cheer of the tall lanky young man, Chalky to his mates, resounded round the small village green in sleepy Needham Market in Suffolk.

The umpire, Major Michael Smiley, raised his hand and the batsman turned dejectedly and began the long walk back to the edge of the green where the rest of his platoon was sitting.

‘Rubbish, you couldn’t hit a football’;

‘Don’t think much of our chances with the Jerries if you can’t even see a simple ball like that’ and various other non-too complimentary comments greeted him as he approached them. This was rather unfair as he had actually scored a very respectable 65 runs, more than any other members of the team so far.

On the other hand, the members of 6th Platoon were cheering madly and Chalky was now being acclaimed as a hero. This struck him as rather bizarre as the batsman had been hitting him all round the field for the last few overs and he had previously been heckled unmercifully about his lack of ability to bowl him out.

‘Hope you’re better at throwing grenades than bowling’ one of the soldiers had jeered, as the ball had disappeared yet again into the undergrowth on the far side of the green after a massive hit by the batsman. The ball had been quickly followed into the nettles and overgrown weeds by a short, stocky, rifleman with dirty blonde hair and blue eyes by the name of Frank Roberts, known to all as Rob.

‘I’d like to see you do better’ Chalky retorted, finally fed up with the continual heckling from Griffiths who never missed an opportunity to have a dig at him, ‘Easy enough to criticise when you’re sitting on your backside. Why not get your arse out here and show us how it’s done’. Turning his back on Griffiths he took his frustration out on the fielder ‘Com’on Rob, haven’t you found it yet? Maybe you should get some glasses’. A raucous cheer interrupted the laughter as the hapless Roberts reappeared a few moments later holding the cricket ball aloft. Unfortunately the batsman had now put on another 4 runs much to the Griffiths’ amusement and Chalky’s irritation.

‘Never mind, we’ll have him in a minute’ the voice belonged to Ted Taylor, a wiry man of five foot seven and three quarters, with dark brown hair, laughing grey eyes and an engaging smile. Ted was the platoon’s wicket keeper today and although he’d not had much to do yet Ted was invariably optimistic that whenever they played any team games, his team would win.

‘I wouldn’t bet on it’ the opposing batsman smirked ‘He’s really got you lot on the run. He’ll make a century easy, you watch’

‘Nah, no chance, we’ve got the best bowler in the battalion, not to mention some of the best batsman’ Ted’s replied confidently and his optimism was almost instantly rewarded. Two balls later and Chalky had successfully bowled out the troublesome batsman much to Ted’s unrestrained delight.

‘See! Told you! Never underestimate 6th Platoon!’ he shouted triumphantly as loud cheers erupted behind him.

It was the afternoon of the 21st May 1940 and the men of the 1st Battalion, The Rifle Brigade, were relaxing in the early spring sunshine and enjoying the inter platoon cricket match in the quiet village of Needham Market, Suffolk. They had moved here from Bournemouth on the 15th May in response to the continuing bad news from the continent.

The long journey north had been reasonably uneventful apart from an unscheduled stop in Chelmsford to investigate rumours of paratroopers. Enthusiastic that at last they might have a sighting of the enemy, the men had made a thorough search of the surrounding area, enjoying the opportunity to put their skills to the test. But they had not found anyone and they assumed it was just another of the many unfounded rumours sweeping the country in the wake of yet more bad news from Europe. Their search completed, they had climbed wearily back into their trucks and continued onwards to Needham Market, where they had been based ever since.

In the distance the church clock could be heard striking four o’clock and the gentle breeze that had kept the air cool throughout the day rustled the new leaves and spring blossom on the cherry trees that were scattered round the edge of the green.

After several days of back-breaking work digging trenches in the heavy East Anglian clay soil and constructing fortified roadblocks on all the roads leading to the coast, the men of B Company were pleased to finally have some time to relax. The defences they had constructed were intended to impede the progress of any enemy force that was foolhardy enough to attempt to invade the heavily fortified island. At least that was what they had been told and despite the continuing bad news from Europe there was still a strong belief in the invincibility of the armed forces and a certainty that the Germans would soon be defeated.

Those not taking an active part in the inter-platoon match were scattered in groups round the edge of the green, smoking, chatting, playing cards and contributing various encouraging and, not so encouraging, comments. Inter-platoon cricket matches, like anything else that pitted one platoon against another, always generated plenty of friendly rivalry and the heckling of the watching soldiers was much to the amusement of the local village children who were also congregating on the edge of the field watching the cricket. Although the soldiers had been camped there for several days now, the children were still unused to seeing so many people in the sleepy Suffolk village, and were making the most of this unexpected event.

Their arrival had acted like a magnet to the children who felt that something exciting was finally happening. Some of the older ones had already spent the last few spring evenings after school hanging round the periphery of the hastily erected army camp on the green, chatting to the soldiers and trying to avoid the attentions of the Company Sergeant Majors (CSM) and other officers. On the few occasions they had been spotted they had been shouted at to ‘scarper’ which had made it all the more exciting and rather than a deterrent had acted as an incentive to keep coming back.

As many of the soldiers had younger brothers and sisters they had welcomed the youngsters and had even let them help with some of their camp duties, although requests to help dismantle, clean and reassemble rifles had been met with a resounding ‘no’ much to the older boys’ disappointment, as had requests ‘to have a go with your rifle mister’. Others gave them letters to post or sent them into the village to buy cigarettes and bottles of the local beer. The children liked this bit more than anything because the soldiers sometimes let them keep the change or let them keep the odd cigarette cards they found.

The children liked taking back the empty bottles was because they were able to collect the farthing on the bottles. This was part of the war effort to encourage people to bring them back so they could be reused. As an island Britain was vulnerable to blockade by sea so it was important that only essentials like food and weapons were imported. Merchant shipping had already been sunk, there were already bans on the production of some non-essential goods and the government had introduced rationing.

For the few evacuees still living in the village, (many had returned home by this time despite the government’s attempts to make them stay in the countryside), the chance to hear London accents again was even more important. Many had felt abandoned and very homesick in their new homes so the chance to meet people who reminded them of home was a real tonic. There was also the added bonus that, for once, they had the advantage over the local children in that they were able to understand the soldiers’ slang, something the local children were unable to do. This had improved their standing among their peers and gone some way to helping them become more accepted.

The impromptu cricket match on the green had therefore attracted a lot of the children and with them came their younger brothers and sisters, all with their gas masks slung carelessly about their persons and eager to be a part of this exciting happening in the village.

The bowling had now switched to the other end and Jones was about to bowl. A tall well-built man with thick black hair which curled if it grew much longer than the regulation army length, Jones was an excellent all round sportsman and known affectionately by all as Taffy. He was a slow bowler and as the ball curved in the air the batsman clipped it with his bat under cutting it and sending it straight up in the air towards one of the waiting fielders.

‘Yes’ Jones shouted ecstatically, but it wasn’t to be as the fielder fumbled it and it fell to the ground.

‘I don’t believe it’ Jones held his head in his hands groaning as the batsman took the chance to grab an extra run. But all was not yet lost as the fielder quickly recovered his wits. Throwing himself spread-eagled onto the floor and grabbing the ball he quickly threw it towards Ted who had already spotted the opportunity and had positioned himself accordingly.

‘Over here, quick’ he shouted from his position just to the left of the wicket. Waiting with his hands cupped he watched as the ball soared through the air towards him. As it came close he raised his hands slightly and the ball dropped neatly straight into his open hands. Quick as a flash he moved to the side and knocked off the stumps of the wicket as the batsman slid feet first towards the wicket arriving slightly too late.

‘Gotya’ Ted’s shout of triumph was cut short as the familiar sound of a motor cycle could be heard in the distance. Distracted he turned towards the sound as did everyone else.

‘Aye aye – something’s up’ Chalky too had lost interest in the cricket as the sound of the motorcycle broke through the silence. The heckling also stopped as the gaze of the waiting soldiers followed the dispatch rider as the bike left the road and travelled the short distance across the cricket ground towards the umpire. They watched in astonishment as the rider pulled up in front of him and leapt off his bike. Without waiting to stand it up properly or remove his goggles he spoke rapidly to the Major who immediately climbed on the back of the bike and went with him the short distance to the Company office in the village. With no one left to umpire the game it stopped abruptly and the men stood looking at each other, not sure what they should be doing but each sensing that something momentous had, or was about to, happen.

For Ted, it felt as if the world had suddenly gone into slow motion. Although he could see that the sun was still shining, and the breeze was still nudging the few cumulous clouds across the azure blue spring sky, it was as if a shadow had crossed the sun. He shivered as if there was a sudden chill in the air and wondered if it was a premonition of things to come.

In the village the Colonel summoned the 2IC, (Second in Command), Major Alexander Allen and the CSM and after the customary salutes and a few brief words he disappeared back into his office leaving the CSM to pass on the orders.

The CSM was a professional soldier with considerable experience but even he was taken aback by the speed of their impending departure. There would be none of the usual briefing. The Battalion was to be packed up and ready to move in four hours. There was not even time for the men to contact their families or have a few hours leave. In fact there was little time for anything other than to break camp, pack up their kit and equipment and refuel and board the trucks. He shook his head, a sense of foreboding overcoming his normal calm, unruffled demeanour, but the training of many years kicked in and facing the watching troops he barked out the orders:

‘Right, everyone fall in. We’re breaking camp. At the double – quick March!’ The last word was elongated and shouted and his voice echoed across the green to the watching children. ‘Left,.. left,.. left..left..left’. Galvanised by the sudden change of pace, the children watched transfixed as the soldiers marched smartly across the green. Their rapid Rifle Brigade pace trampled the dry grass, throwing up dust from the dry ground. Excitedly, the children tried to copy the frenetic marching of the soldiers, attempts which at any other time would have induced a wry smile of amusement from the CSM, but his mind was on other things. Although they had been ordered to break camp, to pack up their kit and equipment and wait for the transport he had been given no further information as to where they were going or what they were expected to do once they arrived. He shook his head and tried to ignore the warning voice in the back of his mind, but try as he might it wouldn’t go away.

In the village the CO watched the preparations with an equally heavy heart.

What he couldn’t tell them was that they were going to Southampton. They would be told that once they were on the trucks and underway. This was to ensure that there was no careless talk in the village whilst they were breaking camp. After that he had no idea where they were going. But he could make a shrewd guess that if they were going to Southampton there was a fair chance they would be going to France. Reading between the lines, he knew the British Expeditionary Force (BEF) was in trouble and he guessed they were probably being sent to reinforce them in some way.

It took much longer to break camp than anticipated and it was eleven o’clock by the time the 300 open trucks were finally refuelled and loaded and ready to go. The men climbed in wearily to begin their long journey south. Much of the delay had been because many of the trucks had needed refuelling and the official petrol pumps had run dry leaving them to get the much-needed fuel from other sources, all of which had taken time. After the warmth of the day the night air was cool and although their new greatcoats provided them with some protection, the movement of the trucks increased the wind-chill factor until the men found themselves huddling together for warmth. When that failed they tried stamping their feet and rubbing their hands together to try and restore some circulation to their cold feet and hands.

The trucks included some very ancient 30cwt trucks which to the men in the back seemed to have a maximum speed of about 12 mph. Going uphill was even more laborious and on some of the steeper hills they could only manage about 6mph. However, the drivers soon made up for this by speeding downhill much to the concern of those who were bouncing about unrestrained in the back and unable to do anything about it.

The roads were quiet and the dark country lanes provided little to look at other than the occasional red eyes of a fox or rabbit caught in the glare of the headlights of the truck as it travelled round a particularly sharp bend in the road. But this did not happen very often as for part of the way they had to drive with the headlights off and when they were on they were dipped and heavily shielded to prevent any possibility of showing lights to enemy aircraft. None of the drivers had maps so they had to rely on the odd signpost to prevent them from getting lost. By now, Ted, like many of his companions, was very tired and although he tried hard to doze the movement of the truck as it went round bends, downhill at great speed or over potholes kept jerking him awake.

‘God, this is bloody miserable, I ‘ope we’re not going wherever it is that we’re going all the way by these back roads. Haven’t they ever heard of main roads?’ Chalky was one of Ted’s best friends but was well known for always finding something to moan about.

‘Suppose it depends on where it is that we’re going.’ Ted responded shortly, his normal good humour lost as he tried in vain to shield himself from the cold draughts circulating round the truck. He was so tired that even talking was becoming too much effort. Giving up on trying to sleep he took out his cigarettes and put one in his mouth. Cupping his hands round the matches he tried several times to strike it. Every time he managed to get it to light the wind blew it out and he had to start again. Taffy who was watching him struggle finally took the matches from him and using Ted’s hands to protect the match from the wind eventually managed to get a strike.

‘Self-interest’ he said waving away Ted’s thanks and pulling out his own cigarette he reached across and used Ted’s lit one to get his own started. Sitting back as much as he could to get out of the wind Ted drew heavily on his cigarette and said

‘Anybody got any ideas where we’re going?’ The question was casual enough but underneath the nonchalance Ted had a feeling they were going overseas. He wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about that, a mixture of fear and anticipation was probably the best way to describe it. After all that was what he had been trained to do and a part of him couldn’t wait to put the things he had been taught into practice. The first units of the BEF had been sent over in September 1939 and it had gradually been added to over the past few months. There were now several hundred thousand men from Britain in France and although he had not had much contact with his father over the past few years he knew his father was one of them. He wasn’t sure exactly where but he was with one of the supply units of the BEF so the chances were that he was already fighting the Germans.

‘Perhaps we’re going to Norway’ Chalky said thoughtfully

‘No, I think we’ve blown that one, Hitler’s already got his feet in the door there’ Taffy opened his eyes just long enough to make his contribution to the discussion.

‘Apparently we’re going to Southampton’ a voice from the other end of the truck piped up

‘How do you know?’ Rob asked

‘I heard a couple of the officers talking before we left’ the disembodied voice responded. ‘They were going to tell us once we were underway’

‘And after Southampton?’ Ted asked

‘Dunno’ the voice replied ‘Don’t think they knew. I think they’d just been told Southampton’

‘Right’ Ted looked at Chalky who was nearest and for once neither of them could think of anything else to say. It sounded as if they were definitely going overseas then. Ted finished his cigarette and tossing it out into the dark silent countryside he closed his eyes and found himself reliving the last few hectic months.

Much to his initial dismay, he had received his call up papers almost immediately war had been declared with orders to report to Winchester on the 15th September 1939. Winchester was the Regimental home of the Rifle Brigade and the 60th Rifles. As a Londoner he had been sent to join the 1st Battalion the Rifle Brigade which recruited mainly from the London area. It had all happened so quickly there had been little time to really think about it.

At first he was not very enthusiastic, after all he was perfectly happy with his life as it was. He enjoyed his job, liked his workmates and, in general life was pretty good. He had worked at Greens Engineering Works on the production line making spiral staircases and fire escapes since he had left school at the age of 14, some 6 years earlier and he was settled and content. A gentle, considerate, hard-working boy who attended church regularly and was a Sunday school teacher he loved nature and had been bought up to believe that killing was wrong, He was not sure that he would really be able to kill someone, even if they were trying to kill him. But as a young fit 20 year old in a non-reserved occupation he had no choice.

Reluctantly he had said goodbye to his colleagues who wished him well and had gone home to pack up those belongings he wanted to take with him. He had then said goodbye to his Mum and his two brothers. His Mum had been really upset although she had tried not to show it but his brothers, Cyril who was two years younger and Bernard who was four years younger, were envious and couldn’t wait for their turn. He had also said goodbye to his girlfriend Bren, (Brenda) who was in her second year training to be a nurse at Lambeth Hospital.

He had met Brenda through the Crofton Park Baptist Church when he was a member of the church’s Boys Brigade and Brenda was a member of the Girls Brigade, the Baptist equivalent of the Scouts and Guides. They had become firm friends at first, sharing the same sense of humour, religious beliefs and outlook on life. As they got older friendship developed into something more until they both finally realised that they meant more to each other than just friends. The outbreak of war had only strengthened that feeling tempered with the sudden realisation that their future together was no longer certain.

It didn’t seem any time at all since that momentous broadcast by Chamberlain saying that they were at war with Germany and yet, within two weeks his life had changed irrevocably and there he was in Winchester and about to being his training.

The thirteen weeks had passed so quickly that Ted could hardly believe it was Christmas already and time for his first leave. He had packed up his ‘civvy’ clothes which they were instructed to take home and leave there and hurried to the Guard House where he had to pass inspection before being allowed out. From there he went out through West Gate, over the bridge and across the road to the station to catch the train home. He almost felt sad to be leaving Winchester with its cobbled square that sparked when their steel capped boots marched at rapid pace across them and its feeling of timeless history. After Christmas he would go almost immediately to Tidworth to complete his training to be a driver of a Bren gun carrier.

Christmas was a strange mixture of great happiness tinged with an indefinable sadness. Although he was used to wearing his uniform and carrying his rifle on base it felt strange to be in uniform at home. It was even stranger to have to carry his rifle and a little ammunition around with him, but whilst he was happy to be reunited with his Mum, brothers and Brenda there was an underlying feeling of sadness that things had already begun to change. He only had a couple of days and it seemed that no sooner had he arrived then it was time to go back. It seemed that everywhere they looked there were people in uniforms, sandbags protected all the public buildings and many private homes and many gardens had already been turned over to vegetables and some already had an Anderson shelter dug in at the bottom. He had barley recognised his family’s garden with the cumbersome Anderson shelter now taking pride of place, its entrance facing away from the house in order to minimise blast damage if the house was hit.

According to his Mum there were numerous other strict specifications about building Anderson shelters and she and his brothers had spent ages trying to make sure they didn’t fall foul of any of the regulations. Apparently any that didn’t conform could be removed and serious penalties imposed on the hapless individual involved which seemed a bit excessive to Ted who was under the impression that one of the reason they were going to war was to protect people’s individual freedoms.

Communal shelters had also begun to appear in streets that didn’t have gardens. Many businesses had opened up their cellars so that staff had somewhere to go and in Bromley the Chislehurst caves had been opened up so people could shelter there.

However, the biggest threat to civilians so far seemed to be boredom. After the initial siren that had heralded the beginning of the war and the immediate closure of all cinemas, theatres and football grounds to minimise casualties, things had gradually returned to normal. The government had soon realised that although public safety was important, it was even more vital to keep up pubic morale. This meant trying to ensure that the general public enjoyed as much of a normal life as possible and this included the entertainment derived from theatres, cinemas and football matches. The downside of this seemed to be that for many civilians the war was something that was somewhere in the distance and that didn’t really affect them. For many the war just meant restrictions on their freedoms and an increase in prices and shortages of goods. This was beginning to create divisions between the civilian population and those in the armed forces and merchant navy. But for Ted at least, Christmas was a time for forgetting divisions and spending time with those you loved and this year he had a particular important reason for really looking forward to it

Christmas dinner was a meal Ted always enjoyed and this year was no different. Fortunately rationing hadn’t yet begun and they were able to buy most of the traditional food they normally had although there wasn’t quite as much as there had been before the war.

‘Everything alright Ted? Lou, Ted’s Mum asked, concerned that Ted had seemed a little distant since he had arrived home. It could just be that he was having trouble adjusting to the contrasting life styles but she sensed it was more than that.

‘Of course it is Mum. I’m just pleased to be home that’s all and this dinner’s absolutely wonderful. I didn’t know how much I’d missed your cooking until I tasted it.’

‘What’s the army food like then Ted’ Bernard asked

‘Not like this’ Ted answered laughing ‘But some of the chaps say it’s much better than they get at home so I suppose I’m just spoiled!’

The rest of the day passed quickly and Ted was relieved that his Mum didn’t really have another chance to question him. When she did ask him again later he pretended that it was just because he was not used to sitting around as he was always busy in the army and rapidly changed the subject. He did have something on his mind but he didn’t want to tell her yet, not until he’d spoken to Brenda and he wasn’t seeing her until the next day.

Having spent Christmas day with her aunt and uncle Brenda came round to Ted’s Mum’s house for dinner on Boxing Day. Having not seen him since September she arrived early, eager to spend as much of the day with him as possible before he had to go back. But Ted seemed edgy and distant and totally unlike his normal self. Brenda asked him several times if everything was alright, wondering if there was a problem at his battalion although his letters seemed cheerful enough.

‘I’ve asked him the same thing’ Lou said ‘But he says he’s just not used to sitting around as in the army they’re always doing something.’

‘That’s all it is honestly’ Ted said but Brenda wasn’t sure. He was definitely behaving strangely and she was just beginning to wonder whether he didn’t want to go out with her anymore but wasn’t sure how to tell her, when he suggested that they go for a walk. Feeling really nervous now she nodded and went to get her coat from the hall stand. Her mind was racing now ‘maybe he’s found someone else in Winchester’ she thought.

‘Dinner’s at one sharp so don’t be late and it’s really cold out there so wrap up warm’ Lou said

For the first time since Brenda had arrived Ted relaxed and said laughingly ‘I’m used to it Mum. I’ve just spent weeks living in fields under canvass’

‘Well Brenda hasn’t’ she replied and was relieved to see him laugh as she too was getting concerned. She knew Ted and obviously something was bothering him. Normally he would talk to her but he hadn’t and that was what was really worrying her. What could be so bad that he didn’t want to talk to her about it? ‘Hopefully he’ll tell Brenda, that’s probably why he had suggested the walk’ she thought

Brenda put on her coat and followed Ted out into the icy streets. He put his arm round her and pulled her close which made her feel a lot better. If he didn’t want to be with her he would have kept his distance, not pulled her close to him. She wanted to ask him again whether there was anything wrong, but sensed it would be best to let him talk in his own time, so they walked in companionable silence for a while. Brenda enjoyed the sensation of feeling him close to her but she was too nervous to really relax. What would she do if Ted had found someone else, they had been close for so long, she couldn’t imagine being without him. They were walking in the direction of the river and as they approached it Ted spoke for the first time since they had left the house.

‘The river always looks lovely when its edges are frozen and sun is shining on it, doesn’t it?’

‘Mmm, makes you think of all those Victorian Christmas cards with all the snow and lots of children playing and having fun’ she responded automatically her mind unable to concentrate on trivialities when she had a feeling that whatever happened next would affect her whole future. There was silence as they both struggled with their thoughts and then Ted spoke without looking at her

‘Bren, you know I love you don’t you?’

Brenda smiled nervously, this was it then

‘Yes I know Ted, I love you too’

‘Well I was thinking, we’ve known each other over four years now and as we’ve said we both love each other and ….I though perhaps we should… that is it might be nice to …. Well perhaps…… what would you think to us….do you think we….. Maybe we could get engaged’ There, he’d said it! Even if it was after much stuttering and stammering and it hadn’t quite come out how he’d intended.

Brenda looked at him in astonishment, relief and happiness mingled together as she realised that he hadn’t found someone else after all and that he didn’t want to leave her. He had proposed or at least she thought he had

‘Is that a proposal?’ she asked anxiously, she had to make sure; she would hate to get it wrong.

‘Yes’ he grinned relieved that he had finally managed to do it but still nervous in case she turned him down. ‘Wasn’t a very good one was it?!’

‘Well you should really get down on your knees and ask’ she responded laughing ‘but it is very cold and I wouldn’t want you to get cold knees…..Ted!’ she shrieked as, much to the amused stares of the few people brave enough to be walking around, he knelt down on the cold frozen river bank and said much more coherently

‘Will you marry me?’

‘Yes yes yes, of course I will’ her delighted shriek was cut off abruptly as he swung her round in his arms and kissed her passionately. Brenda kissed him back, totally oblivious of the cold and damp and of the war that was soon to tear them apart. Finally releasing her they both spoke at once

‘I’ve been worried sick in case you turned me down’

‘You were acting so strangely I thought you were going to tell me you’d found someone else’.

Laughing they kissed again and then held each other close, wishing this moment could go on forever and that they would never have to go back to the real world where Ted would return to camp and she would go back to work, their only contact letters and the occasional phone call if they were lucky.

Eventually the cold began to bite and they reluctantly carried on walking. Ted felt happier than he had ever felt before. He had been really nervous that she might have said no. He didn’t really doubt that she loved him but she might have wanted to be sensible and wait until the war was over.

‘When do you want to get married?’ he said

‘I don’t know.’ Trying to be practical although what she really wanted to say was ‘now or tomorrow’ Brenda carried on ‘We’ll need time to organise it and we don’t really know where you are going to be or what’s going to happen so maybe we should think about some time in 1941, the summer maybe? Perhaps the war will be over then. What do you think?’

‘I don’t know if I can wait that long’ Ted looked at her seriously ‘But it makes sense I suppose. Oh, I nearly forgot’ he said grinning like an idiot and fumbling in his uniform pockets ‘I bought you this. It’s a ring’ he added unnecessarily as she opened the small box in delight. The ring was a beautiful solitaire diamond on a platinum base and it fitted perfectly. Brenda kept looking at it unable to believe she was engaged.

‘Is it alright?’ Ted asked anxiously as she looked at it for what seemed like the umpteenth time without speaking.

‘Yes, it’s just so beautiful; I just can’t help looking at it. Oh Ted, I’m so happy and I love you so much’

Relieved he held her close again and then said reluctantly ‘I suppose we’d better go home or we’ll be late for dinner.’

‘And you’re starving..’ Brenda finished for him

‘Well I am now I’m not nervous anymore!’ he said laughing.

Lou was relieved to see them coming down the road arm in arm and looking a lot happier. In fact, she peered again through the curtains, they looked extremely happy. ‘I wonder’ she thought to herself ‘That would explain the edginess. Oh I do hope so; it’ll be nice to have something to celebrate for a change’.

‘Hello Mum’ Ted started to speak but didn’t get the chance to finish before Brenda, showing off her ring, interrupted him

‘Ted’s asked me to marry him’

Everyone was talking at once and congratulating them and it was only when there was a silent moment that a small voice said ‘So did you say yes then?’

Everyone laughed and Ted jokingly shook his fist at Bernard, his youngest brother. The rest of the day was spent in celebrating and after lunch they went round to Brenda’s house where Ted formerly asked Brenda’s aunt and uncle who were her guardians, for her hand in marriage. Brenda’s aunt and uncle were not surprised, having expected it for some time and were delighted for them both. They liked Ted and knew that he was honest, hard working and reliable. Having given their permission they added their congratulations and then withdrew discretely leaving them on their own to say their goodbyes. It had been dark for some considerable time now and it was getting late and Ted knew that he had better head home and get ready to go back to Winchester early the next morning, but he really didn’t want to go.

Brenda followed him to the door and down the stone steps into the street. A cold wind was now blowing and it was icy cold as they stood outside her house in Brockley and he held her in his arms. She put her arms round him and they held each other in a long embrace wishing the world would go away and leave them alone so they could stay like that forever. Eventually, knowing time was passing and that she would have to let go, Brenda pulled back so she could look straight into his eyes and said softly

‘You will look after yourself won’t you?’

‘Of course I will, nothing’s going to happen to me. I’ve got you to come back to and nothing’s going to stop me doing that.’ He looked and sounded so confident that Brenda found herself believing him.

‘I really have to go sweetheart’ reluctantly he withdrew from her arms and kissed her, gently at first, then with more passion until he pulled away smiling ‘Now I really have something to remember you by’ and turning he walked away. Brenda stood watching trying hard to stem the tears that threatened to engulf her. It wouldn’t do to let his last sight of her to be one of her crying. She made a supreme effort and when he turned back at the corner for one last wave, his last view of her was of her waving with a big smile on her face. Whenever he closed his eyes after that and thought of her it was always that image that came to the surface.

Once Christmas was over he had returned to Winchester and from there he had been sent to Tidworth where he learnt to drive a Bren Gun Carrier. Although he hadn’t seen Bren since Christmas he had received several letters from her and some from his Mum and he had been so busy that he hadn’t realised just how much time had elapsed since he had last seen them.

Things had not improved on the war front and at the beginning of May Neville Chamberlain had been forced to resign as Prime Minister. Because they could not hold elections in wartime the new choice of leader had come down to two people. Lord Halifax had been the preferred choice, but he was too closely connected to what was increasingly being called the ‘Peace in our time’ fiasco and the Labour Party had refused to endorse him. So, despite the catastrophic failure of the Norway campaign, on the 10th May Winston Churchill had taken over as both Prime Minister and Minister of Defence. The fall of Norway and Denmark was swiftly followed by the collapse of Belgium, Luxembourg and the Netherlands and now France was next in line.

When they had received their orders earlier in the month some had thought they were going to Norway and others thought it more likely that they would go to France. But instead they had only been sent to Needham Market to prepare for the possible invasion that everyone seemed to think was going to happen. But so far it had been really quiet and at the ripe old age of 21, he was quite looking forward to putting his training into action. However, as it would be the first time he had been out of England, he would have liked the chance to have told Mum and Bren where he was going so they didn’t worry when they didn’t hear from him. But he wasn’t about to tell his mates that or he would never live it down!

The trucks finally pulled out of the country lanes onto the main road and the pace quickened. As they approached the outskirts of London it started to rain. Caught in the open trucks they were soon soaked to the skin. The rain trickled down their necks and made them feel even colder. There wasn’t even the consolation of being able to see anything. The blackout had been in full force for several months and after several, well- publicised, prosecutions for those breaking it, the message seemed to have finally got through. For anyone not making every attempt to comply there were always the ARP wardens or ‘little ‘itlers’ as they were known, ready to remind them and to enforce the regulations. Going out in the blackout had become a hazardous business.

But for Ted and the others, deep in their own thoughts, these things were of no real importance, just something else to be endured along with the rain and the cold. And as the night wore on they gradually skirted round the northern suburbs of London and were then guided out onto the Great West road by the London police.

The thoughts of most of the men were now focused on where they were going. Like Ted, most of them thought that they were about to embark on their first real engagement and although, like him, they were looking forward to putting their training into action, there was also a good deal of apprehension about what they could expect. They were also concerned about how they would react when under fire. What if they froze or were unable to do what they had been taught? The fear of not performing properly was almost worse than the fear of being injured or killed. Having never been to war they could only imagine what it was like and for the most part their idea of war had come from the films they had seen in the picture houses. Most of these were films about the Great War and although weaponry had moved on apace since then, blast damage and the injuries caused by shrapnel were the same. The First Aid training they had received at Winchester had highlighted some of the horrors they could expect. There was also the constant fear of gas attacks for which they had also been trained. Some of them had relatives who had experienced the mustard gas attacks in the trenches of the Great War; others knew those who suffered from shell shock. For many this was the ultimate horror and something they could only pray they would not have to face.

So with fear mingling with excitement the trucks went ever southward towards Southampton carrying the troops and their officers to a fight that would eventually result in battle honours that would equal or even rival those gained by past regiments. Unfortunately these honours would not come cheap. In four days they would lose over 60% of their strength, only a few wounded would be evacuated and the remaining survivors would spend the rest of the war, five long years, in POW camps in Poland.

Chapter 2

Monday 21st May 1940

Lambeth

Brenda

‘Oh no, not another ladder’ Brenda looked with horror as the ladder gradually crept down the top of her leg. Already on her thigh it was progressing at a great rate towards her knee. Frantically she looked around for some nail varnish to stop the run before it was long enough to show below her uniform. Silk stockings were becoming harder and harder to get now. How she was going to manage if it got worse she had no idea. The Matron at Lambeth Hospital was a real tartar. The slightest hair out of place and she was down on you like a ton of bricks.

Brenda sighed. Obviously it was not going to be a good day, not that there was many of those lately. She had not seen Ted since Christmas and she had received very few letters from him. Mind you his mother hadn’t received many either so it wasn’t just her. Men just weren’t letter writers as his Mum had told her repeatedly. But she did miss him. Having his leave cancelled at the last moment had been a real blow but, as they kept saying, there was a war on. And at least she had the photo he had sent her.

The photo had been taken in Bournemouth on the 14th May 1940, and she thought he looked very handsome in his uniform. He had written ‘All my love Ted’ followed by his army number on it and she had put it in a frame and it now took pride of place on the bed-side cupboard by the bed. It was the first thing she saw when she woke in the morning and the last thing she saw when she switched off the light before going to sleep. As daft as it seemed she always said goodnight to him every night and good morning to him when she woke in the morning, as it made her feel close to him. At least he was still in the country and not overseas and when she felt down she could always look at her beautiful engagement ring and think about the wedding.

Thinking of the men who were overseas she frowned. Sally’s boyfriend was in France somewhere. Sally worked at the Ministry Of Information and was one of the girls she shared the house with. Brenda wasn’t entirely sure as to exactly what Sally did because she didn’t talk about it very much. But she was some kind of secretary to someone vaguely important and as such had access to quite a lot of reasonably secret information.

Complete opposites in looks as well as personalities they got on really well and had supported each other through the past six months when the world seemed to have gone crazy. Brenda was about five foot three inches with gentle brown eyes and shoulder length brown hair that she kept tidy with regular cuts so that it would fit under her nurse’s cap. Sally was quite tall at five foot six and had long blonde hair that was forever escaping from the pins that tried in vain to imprison it and keep it in check. Despite her dependability at work her personal life was a different matter. Invariably in trouble of one kind or another, she often came to Brenda with her problems treating Brenda as an older wiser sister. Brenda didn’t mind most of the time but occasionally wondered if there was something she was missing out on. She didn’t always feel wise and sometimes she longed to let her hair down, lose control and not be the sensible one.

Smiling she looked at the ladder that had now managed to reached her left knee. If she kept daydreaming she might just get her wish and the last thing she needed was to be in trouble today – not when she was going to the cinema tonight. She was looking forward to going out and relaxing with her friends. They were going to see Gone with the Wind starring Vivien Leigh and Clark Gable. Like most women her age she thought Clark Gable was wonderful and couldn’t wait to spend over three hours gazing at her pin up in glorious Technicolor on the big cinema screen.

When the film had first started playing in the cinemas in April, the queues to see it had stretched round the block. It was still really popular and they would probably still have to queue for a while, but it would be worth it to lose herself in something that wasn’t either nursing or war related – at least not this war, she reminded herself with a wry smile. Unlike this war, which looked like it had only just started; the American Civil War had ended a long time ago.

The news from this war did not get any better and it seemed ages since they had been able to celebrate anything. The news from Europe in the last few weeks was even worse than the news from the sea had been over the past few months.

She was thankful that Ted was safe in Suffolk. She found it hard to believe that the Germans would really invade England so as far as she was concerned Ted was probably safer than she was. At least the blackout was not affecting him.

In the winter, when it was dark before she came home from work, she had fallen off the kerb more than once. Fortunately she hadn’t broken anything but that was more luck than judgement. From day one on September 3rd 1939 all windows had to be covered after dark so that no chink of light showed. Shops had very quickly sold out of blackout material and the tape to put it up so all sorts of improvisations had to be used, which didn’t matter as long as you made sure no light showed after dark.

But it wasn’t just house and shop windows that had to be covered. Vehicles had to have their lights dimmed and pointing downwards and streetlamps were filtered with a special screen that directed the light downwards. Despite kerb edges being painted white the number of road accidents had risen dramatically since the blackout had been in force and well over half of them were pedestrians, either bumping into each other or into cars. Men had even been encouraged to leave their shirt tails out so they could be seen better in the blackout. Several people had died or suffered serious injury from walking into solid objects. In 1939 only those civilians for whom a car was essential were given a basic petrol ration that would allow them to drive about 1800 miles a year. But as far as she could see they all seemed to be driving round London and if you added the military vehicles traffic seemed to be increasing rather than lessening.

But staying in night after night wasn’t much fun either. The electricity voltage had been reduced in an attempt to cut down fuel, which made it more difficult to read and initially the BBC regional broadcasts had also been stopped to reduce airwave traffic. They had also pulled off most of the more entertaining programmes and replaced them with heavily censored news broadcasts or Sally Macpherson playing the organ.

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