The Uncertain Years (6 page)

‘I guess you’re right.’ He pulled a face and gripped his arm. ‘But I hate leaving those men behind.’

‘There are other boats here, and more arriving all the
time.’ Alan stood beside them, wiping his hands. ‘You’ve done enough. I know this isn’t your first trip because I saw you before. We found a leak and have plugged it. With luck it will hold until we get back.’

The water had stopped coming in and the men spread out, trying to catch some sleep. With Doug navigating and Will at the wheel, they made it safely back to Dover. The men were immediately taken care of and Doug whisked off in an ambulance.

Exhaustion hit Will suddenly, and all he wanted to do was find a bed and sleep, but he shook off his tiredness. He had a story to write.

Pulling a notebook and pencil out of his pocket, he wandered the dock, talking to soldiers, sailors, relief workers and medical staff. He lost track of time completely, and it was only when his book was filled up that he thought about making his way back to London.

The journey back was just a haze. Will remembered being on a train crowded with soldiers, but not much else. Almost as if he was in a dream, he walked through the doors of his newspaper and into the newsroom, making straight for his desk.

‘Will!’ The chief rushed up to him. ‘Where the hell have you been?’

‘Dunkirk,’ he muttered, pulling the typewriter towards him and rolling in a sheet of paper.

‘You’ve got blood all over you. Are you hurt?’

He shook his head. ‘It isn’t mine.’

‘Good.’ The chief studied the boy typing away like mad.
He was dirty, with lines of fatigue around his eyes, and without a shirt under his jacket.

Ted called Charlie over to him, and spoke quietly. ‘Get him tea and sandwiches, and then as soon as he’s finished, clean him up and take him home. He’s been gone for three days and I don’t want his family to see him in this state.’

Then the chief turned, faced the room and shouted, ‘Hold the front page!’

The last convoy had been a nightmare, and Bob didn’t think he would ever be able to forget the horror of ships exploding as the torpedoes hit them. He drew in a deep breath as the scenes flashed through his mind in vivid colour. And when that tanker had gone up in flames … well, it was just as if all hell had descended upon them. The merchant seamen were well aware of the danger, but they didn’t hesitate to go to sea time and time again, knowing that the cargoes they carried were vital to the survival of this country.

Hoisting his kitbag more firmly on his shoulder, Bob turned into his road, looking forward to a few days at home. Perhaps the peace and normality of being with family and friends would help. As he thought about this he realised that his perception of normal didn’t exist any more. France had fallen.

Bob reached his gate and stood there for a moment watching the evening sun highlight the flowers in the
garden. Early June had brought forth a riot of colour. The back had been dug over to grow vegetables, as had just about every garden in the country, but his mother clung on to this small patch for a bit of beauty, she’d said, and she was right. He felt as if the blooms were welcoming him home.

He swore under his breath as his vision clouded. He was getting soft, and that was not going to help him get through this war. All he had to do was remember those poor devils in the burning sea, and that would cure him of mooning over a few flowers.

‘Are you going to stand there all night, Bob?’

Composing himself he looked up and smiled. ‘Just admiring the garden, Dad. It’s nice to see so much colour after looking at grey sea all the time.’

His father nodded, and Bob wondered how long he had been watching him at the gate.

‘Yes, it’s a picture, isn’t it? Come in now, you’re mother’s putting the kettle on and is anxious to see you.’

He walked to the door and his father took his kitbag from him, nearly dropping it when he felt the weight. ‘What on earth have you got in here?’

‘I’ve collected a few things on my travels.’

‘It feels like it.’ His father studied his son for a moment, and then smiled. ‘It’s good to have you home, Bob. Are you hungry?’

‘Ravenous!’

‘I told you he would be.’ His mother rushed out of the kitchen to hug him. ‘Oh, it’s wonderful to see you. How long have you got?’

‘Let him get in the door, Sal,’ John chided his wife. ‘Let’s have tea first, and then we can talk.’

They settled around the kitchen table with steaming cups of tea in front of them and a plate full of sandwiches. Bob downed his first cup of tea, hungrily finished two sandwiches, then took a deep breath of pleasure, ready to answer his mother’s question now. ‘I’ve got ten days while they carry out some work on the ship.’

‘Oh, that’s lovely.’ Then his mother frowned. ‘What kind of work?’

‘You know I can’t tell you that.’ He took a bite of another sandwich, and changed the subject. There was no way he was going to let either of them know how dangerous the last convoy had been. They had taken a chance and stopped to pick up survivors, which was something they shouldn’t have done, but they couldn’t leave the poor devils in the sea. The damage they had sustained had not been serious, but it was enough to give them this welcome break. ‘Tell me about Dunkirk.’

His father reached for newspapers piled on the dresser behind him. ‘You’ve got to see these. Start on the top and work your way through. They are all in order. Will has had the front page right through the evacuation.’

Bob began to read, the sandwiches forgotten in his eagerness to learn more about this disaster. He’d been at sea while this had been going on, and the information they had received had been sketchy at best. He was delighted to see his friend’s name on the reports. It looked as if Will was doing well.

By the time he was halfway through the papers, he
stopped reading and glanced up, puzzled. ‘These sound like first-hand accounts – as if Will was actually at Dunkirk.’

‘He was!’ His mother’s expression was concerned. ‘He jumped on a boat going up the Thames and sailed over with the owner. He was gone for some time and we were all so worried, not knowing where he was. The newspaper said he was covering the evacuation, and that’s all they would say.’

‘He made two trips,’ his father continued the story, ‘but when the owner was injured and the boat damaged, they couldn’t go again. Will stayed at the dock to gather as much information as he could, then staggered, exhausted, in to the newsroom and wrote his story. When he finally arrived home he slept for twenty-four hours.’

A slow smile crossed Bob’s face. ‘That’s just like him. He was very disappointed when we all joined up and he couldn’t. He’s got a wonderful way with words, and it looks as if he’s found his rightful place in this war now. He’s really brought this whole thing to life.’

‘Yes,’ his father agreed. ‘This is what he was meant to do.’

‘Bob.’ His mother reached across and laid a hand on top of her son’s. ‘Would you have a talk with Will? He’s making plans of some kind, but he’s keeping quiet about it. He’s changed.’

‘We all have, Mum,’ he said gently.

‘I know.’ She squeezed his hand and smiled sadly. ‘I can see that in your eyes. But we’re sure Will’s up to something and he won’t talk about it. The fact that he’s become so secretive is making his mum and dad suspicious. He’ll talk to you, though.’

‘I’ll see what I can do, but you’re probably all imagining it. The forces rejected him, but Dunkirk has proved to him that he’s just as capable as anyone else. It must have boosted his confidence, that’s all.’

‘I expect you’re right,’ his father agreed. ‘Now, what do you want to do this evening, go to the pub?’

‘Not tonight, Dad. Do you mind? I’ll enjoy that tomorrow after I’ve had a good night’s sleep. I’ve been looking forward to sleeping in my own bed.’

‘I expect you have. We’ll all get together and have a drink tomorrow.’

‘Your room’s just as you left it.’ His mother gathered up the empty dishes. ‘You have a nice rest.’

‘Thanks.’ Bob stood up, and when he lifted his kitbag he put it on the table. ‘I forgot. We stopped in New York and I’ve got a few presents for you.’

As he unpacked various tins of fruit and meats, packets of biscuits, and other strange luxuries, his mother gasped. ‘My goodness, Bob, I’ve never seen anything like it! Would you mind if I shared this with our friends?’

‘Do what you like with it, Mum.’ He was about to head for the stairs when the back door shot open and Will stood there, grinning with delight.

‘Mum saw you arrive. Oh, it’s good to see you, Bob.’

Tiredness vanished in a flash as Bob greeted his friend, and he dumped his bag on the floor. ‘You look good, Will. I hear you’ve had quite an adventure, and I want to hear all about it.’

John Walker stood up. ‘Why don’t you boys go into the
front room? You’ll have a lot to talk about, and you’ll find some beer in the sideboard, Bob.’

‘Thanks, Dad.’

Bob studied his friend as they made themselves comfortable. His mother was right. The change in Will was obvious. There was something different about him, though it was hard to fathom just what it was.

‘How long are you home for?’ Will asked.

‘Ten days, while they do some work on the ship.’

‘That’s great!’ Then Will’s expression sobered as he noticed the lines of strain around his friend’s eyes. ‘Rough trip?’

‘Not as rough as they’re going to get now France has fallen. The U-boats won’t have so far to go to get to us now.’ Bob sat back and quickly changed the subject. ‘Do you know where Jim is?’

‘He’s safe. He managed to get out of Norway just before the Germans invaded.’

‘That’s a relief. I was worried about him. How’s Becky?’

Will grinned. ‘She’s fine. The army was daft enough to teach her to drive a truck.’

Bob laughed. ‘That I would like to see.’ Then, satisfied that his friends were all right, he said, ‘Tell me about the evacuation of Dunkirk.’

The next hour flew by as he listened to his friend. Bob knew only what he’d read in the papers, but he was enthralled to hear a first-hand account of what it had really been like.

When he’d finished talking, Will got them another beer from the cupboard, then sat down again, elbows resting on
his knees as he leant forward. ‘I’ve told you what happened to me, now I want every detail of your last voyage.’ As the shutters came down on Bob’s expression, he reached out and gently punched his friend on the arm. ‘Come on, talk! I need to know exactly what’s happening on land, air and sea. There’s only the two of us here, and it looks as if it would do you good to let your feelings out.’

Bob pulled a face. Will had always been good at picking up on their moods. They’d never been able to hide anything from him. He started with the lighter side of life on board ship, and had Will laughing. Then the grim part of the voyage began to spill out.

There was silence when Bob finished speaking, and he could almost see his friend’s mind working overtime. ‘If you’re going to write about this, Will, you make sure you praise the merchant seamen. They’re bloody heroes, every one of them.’

‘As are the sailors who guard them,’ Will said gently. ‘We’re really up against it now. Hitler’s got to starve us into submission if he can, so he’ll try to sink as much shipping as he can.’

Nodding in agreement, Bob asked, ‘Do you think he’ll invade while we’re weak from our losses at Dunkirk?’

‘That’s what many expect.’ Will pursed his lips. ‘But I think he’ll attack us by air first. If he can destroy our air defences, then he’ll have more chance of crossing the Channel without huge losses.’

‘Have we got an air defence?’

‘Oh yes.’ A slow smile spread across Will’s face. ‘We’ve got the Hurricane and Spitfire. Not enough yet, but Dad
said they’re better than the German fighters, and production is going on day and night – so is the training of new pilots. I believe we’re in for a bitter struggle, but we won’t give in.’

‘So Churchill has told us. That man certainly knows how to deliver a rousing speech. “We shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender.”’

Will laughed at Bob’s terrible attempt to imitate Winston Churchill. ‘If Hitler tries to invade we’ll just have to set Jim on to him. He always was a tough kid, but you ought to see him now. The paratroopers have turned him into an impressive fighting man. I’m glad he counts us as his friends.’

‘Like that, is it?’ Bob smiled as he recalled the good, carefree times they’d all had together. Then he remembered what his mother had asked him to do. ‘After your experiences with Dunkirk, what are you going to do now? I can’t imagine you’ll be content to just stay at the paper.’

‘I’m not.’ Will leant forward and sighed. ‘I haven’t told Mum and Dad yet, but I’ve been talking to someone at the Ministry of Information. I’ve only heard today that I’ve been recruited as an official war correspondent. I’ll be in uniform, but not part of the fighting force. My job will be to report back, and they’re going to teach me Morse Code, as well as the use of a radio. I leave to start my training next week.’

‘You’ll be in the front line of any battle you are sent to report on,’ Bob pointed out.

‘Just as you and Jim are.’ Will’s mouth set in a determined
line. ‘And the whole country is in the front line now. I’m well aware of the risks, but this is something I can, and want to do.’

‘And you’ll be damned good at it. Congratulations, Will. Hey, I wonder what Becky’s going to say when she hears this?’

‘She’ll be pleased for me.’

Bob nodded in agreement. ‘I’d love to see her drive a truck – from a distance, of course.’

Sally and John Walker listened to the hilarious laughter coming from the front room and smiled at each other. Their son had been tense and rather withdrawn when he’d first arrived home, which was not a bit like him, and time spent with his friend was just what he needed to help him unwind.

Two weeks after Dunkirk and Becky hadn’t heard a word from David. Jim was safe, and so were Bob and her brother. Will had survived helping with the evacuation, the crazy fool, but she was desperately worried about David. If only she knew where his family lived she could contact them, but she didn’t. In fact, she knew absolutely nothing about him. They’d only met a couple of times and hadn’t had a chance to get to know each other properly. She had chatted on about her family, but he hadn’t said a word about his.

Wiping the grease from her hands, she slammed the bonnet of the car down, her mouth set in a determined line. Their acquaintance might have been brief, but that didn’t matter. He’d been kind to her, and she liked him. Not in a romantic way, of course. That was quite out of the question because he was out of her class, and an officer. But, damn it, she had liked everything about him – his easy smile, and the way his gentle eyes shone with amusement when he’d
teased her … She had to find out if he was all right! Alice might be able to help.

‘Does it work?’

Becky glared at the car’s driver as he sauntered up. ‘Of course it does, Corporal.’

He caught the keys she tossed to him, and grinned. ‘What’s upset you today? Where’s that bright smile?’

‘Mind your own business, and go and collect your officer. And go easy on the brakes and clutch. We’ve had to overhaul the clutch, and replace the brake linings.’

‘Yes, ma’am!’ he said, standing to attention, still smiling.

Her normal good humour surfaced again, and she laughed. ‘Go on, off you go, and don’t slam those large size tens on the pedals so hard. The poor old car can’t take too much rough treatment.’

After giving a dramatic sigh, he got in the car and wound down the window, gazing at her with a pathetic expression on his face. ‘Please, Miss, can I have a new car?’

‘No you can’t. You know the army had to leave all its vehicles and equipment in France. Everything’s in short supply.’

The driver pulled a face, suddenly serious. ‘They nearly bloody well left me behind as well.’

‘Oh, I didn’t realise you’d been there.’ She felt contrite about ticking him off. ‘How did you get back?’

‘On a navy ship.’

She leant on the open window. ‘My brother went over in one of the little boats.’

‘Did he?’ The corporal smiled again. ‘They did a fantastic job, and saved a lot of lives.’

‘He’s a reporter,’ she told him proudly, ‘and his stories were on the front page for days. Er … did you happen to meet a Colonel David Hammond?’

‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘Missing, is he?’

‘I really don’t know; that’s what’s so worrying.’

‘Well, I expect they’re still sorting everything out. It was chaos over there, and I expect it will take a while to get together accurate lists.’

‘Yes, I expect you’re right.’ Becky stood up and watched the car drive away.

It was her lunch break so she’d find Alice first.

She was in luck. Her friend was just coming out of her building. ‘I want to ask a favour, Alice. Do you have a couple of minutes?’

‘I can manage that as long as you walk along with me.’ She kept walking and Becky fell into step beside her. ‘What’s up? You look worried.’

‘Is there any way you could find out if Colonel David Hammond was among those who were rescued from France?’

Alice stopped suddenly and frowned. ‘Ah, I know that name. He’s the one who interviewed you when we signed on. Do you know for sure he was in France?’

‘Yes, he hinted at it when he took me out to dinner. He was leaving that very evening.’

‘You never told me you’d been seeing him.’ Alice looked offended.

‘I only saw him a couple of times.’ She nudged her friend. ‘Anyway, you’re a fine one to talk. I think you’re going out with someone, and I haven’t heard a word about him.’

‘I was just waiting to see how it went. He’s in the air force, and he’s lovely. Now, let’s get back to the matter in hand. What regiment is your colonel in?’

‘I don’t know. I never asked, or took any notice of the insignia on his uniform.’

‘Too busy gazing into his eyes, I suppose.’

‘It was nothing like that,’ Becky protested. ‘I like him, and we got on well together. He was kind to me and I’m worried about him. Can you help?’

‘I’ll see what I can find out,’ Alice said, giving Becky’s arm a comforting pat. ‘My major might know him. If not I’m sure he’ll make enquiries – if I ask him nicely enough, of course.’

‘He won’t be able to resist you if you turn on the charm,’ Becky laughed. ‘But seriously, I’d be ever so grateful if you could find out if he’s safe. I’ve written twice since Dunkirk, and haven’t received a reply yet.’

‘Leave it with me.’ Alice glanced at her watch. ‘Oops, I must dash. I’ll meet you at seven in the NAAFI.’

‘Thanks.’ Becky watched her friend march away on her errand. Now all she could do was wait.

It was nearly eight by the time Alice joined Becky. ‘Sorry I’m late; we’ve been so busy. Major Brent seemed to know who I was asking about, but he wants to see you in our office, now.’

‘What? Am I in trouble for asking about David?’

‘Of course not, but he wants to talk to you before giving out any information.’

Becky’s insides clenched in dismay. ‘Is the news bad, then?’

‘I don’t know, Becky. This is an officer we’re talking
about, and Major Brent won’t give out personal details to someone in the ranks. Not even to me, and I’m his confidential secretary.’

‘Of course, I should have thought about that.’ Becky stood up and made sure her uniform was in order.

She followed Alice, and waited impatiently while she rapped on a door and disappeared inside.

Alice soon reappeared. ‘Come in now.’

She stood to attention in front of the officer’s desk, and had never felt so frightened in her life about the news she was about to be given.

He wasted no time. ‘Tell me how you know Colonel Hammond.’

Her explanation was brief, and she realised that it was doubtful if the officer would tell her anything. After all, it was clear she hardly knew him when it was put into words, but she didn’t feel like that. It was as if she’d known David all her life.

‘We’ve been writing regularly, sir,’ she hastily explained. ‘And I haven’t heard from him for a while. I’m worried, sir. Could you tell me if he’s all right? Please, sir. That’s all I need to know.’

Major Brent sat back. ‘I’m afraid he’s missing. That’s all the information we have at this time.’

It took a few moments to compose herself, and then she said, ‘I’d like to write to his family, sir. Could I have his home address?’

‘No, I can’t give out that information.’ Major Brent stood up, bringing the interview to an end. ‘I’ll see you are informed if we receive any further news.’

‘Thank you, sir.’

The word ‘missing’ kept ringing through her mind for the rest of the night, making sleep impossible. She knew many families were worrying themselves sick over the same word since Dunkirk. It could mean that they were alive – perhaps taken prisoner – or they had been killed. While there was some hope, the uncertainty would be crippling.

Unable to sleep, she got up and wrote a long letter to her brother, pouring out her fears for David, and deep sorrow that she was unable to write to his family. She longed to offer some comfort, however slight. She had always been able to talk to her brother, and after putting the letter to him in the post, she returned to the billet. All the other girls were out, either on duty, or enjoying themselves at a dance somewhere, but Becky was too sad at heart to be good company.

There was no one to see her, so she shed a few tears, and allowed herself to grieve for the man she had become so very fond of, praying that somehow, somewhere, he was safe.

It was five days before her brother’s reply reached her. Opening it eagerly, she settled on her bunk to read it before going on duty. As usual it was pages long, and she smiled when he told her about Bob’s leave, then followed up with all the family news. She missed them all terribly, but even if she was at home things wouldn’t be the same, and she really enjoyed army life. It was stretching her talents, and she loved striving to improve her skills as a mechanic. It was much more interesting than working in a shoe shop.

Her smile faded when the tone of the letter changed, and she gasped, unable to believe what Will was going to do. He was going to be a war correspondent! Her emotions were mixed – pleased that he had found something he wanted to do, and worry about the danger he would be in by doing such a job. But he was well qualified, and she was so proud of him. She had always supported and encouraged him to go for what he wanted, and he would have her wholehearted backing for this as well.

After reading the next few pages of the letter, she was scrambling to her feet. If she went without breakfast she might just have time.

With the letter clasped in her hand, she ran as fast as she could, muttering to herself, ‘Please be there!’

Alice was already working when Becky burst through the door. ‘Is Major Brent here?’ she gasped. ‘I must see him.’

Her friend didn’t ask any questions, and disappeared immediately into the adjoining office. She was back again almost at once. ‘Come in, Becky.’

‘What’s all this about?’ the major demanded the moment she stopped in front of his desk.

‘Sorry to disturb you, sir.’ Becky stood to attention. ‘I’ve just received a letter from my brother. He went over to Dunkirk in one of the little boats.’ Still breathless from her mad dash to get there, Becky held out the letter. ‘It’s the last three pages, sir. Read what he says.’

She waited impatiently as the officer read Will’s account of how he’d tried to make an officer come into their boat.

He read it once, and then, much to Becky’s frustration,
he began again. She was anxious not to be late reporting for duty.

Unable to remain silent any longer, she said, ‘I know it doesn’t tell us what happened to him after that, sir, but it might give his family some comfort to know he was seen, and was trying to get his men to safety.’

‘This is an excellent description of what it must have been like.’

‘Yes, sir.’ Becky’s eyes shone with pride. ‘He’s a reporter, and is going to be a war correspondent. Do you think Dav— Colonel Hammond’s family would like to know my brother actually spoke to him?’

He carefully folded the letter, then looked at Becky as if seeing her for the first time. ‘May I take this to show his parents?’

‘Yes, sir.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘Can I go, please, sir? I’m on duty in five minutes.’

‘Of course, and if you get into any trouble, refer them to me.’

‘I’ll run all the way.’ She gave him a genuine smile, so pleased he’d liked the letter.

‘Off you go then. And thank you for bringing this to me.’ Still smiling, she saluted smartly, turned and hurtled out of the room, determined not to be late.

Major Brent waited until the sound of running footsteps faded into the distance, then he turned his attention to Alice. ‘I believe you’re a friend of that young woman. What do you think was between them?’

‘Well, if you ask Rebecca she’ll tell you Colonel
Hammond put in a good word for her, helping to get the posting she wanted, and she likes him. But I suspect that her feelings go deeper than that. She wouldn’t admit it though, because she’s aware he’s upper class, and he’s an officer. There’s also an age difference of about ten years, but I don’t believe that worries her. She told me there are eight years between her parents, and it has never bothered them.’

‘Hmm.’ Major Brent tucked the letter safely in his pocket. ‘She seems a sensible girl, and rather appealing. I can understand David taking an interest in her.’

‘If they’d had more time together I think it might have developed into more than just an interest, sir.’

‘You could be right, but the way things are we might never know.’

‘Do you think he’s dead, then?’ Alice asked.

‘I pray not. David and I have been friends since we were at Eton together.’ He stood up. ‘I’ll be away for most of the day. If anyone wants me put them off until tomorrow.’

‘Yes, sir.’