Vera's Valour (3 page)

“Your husband was parachuted into France, last night, ma’am.”

Vera felt sick. She stood blinking at the officer, unable to think of anything to say other than, “He needs this message.” She produced the military pouch.

“May I look at the dispatch and see if it is of importance to him?”

Vera nodded.

“You say it was delivered after he left home?”

“It was,” Vera found her voice.

The officer took the pouch and strolled over to talk to another man, who opened it and after looking at it he then replaced the document and came towards her.

“Colonel Parkington would have found this information useful. But there is no way I can get it to him now. I’m sorry you came all this way for nothing,” he said giving her a weak smile. Then he was called away, and Vera stood feeling tired and dejected. It was clear planning was going ahead for the invasion, which seemed imminent.

Everyone was busy. She picked up the pouch, which had been left on a table.

Dulcie Swanton’s van had gone when she walked to leave the hut. Only her bike was left propped up again the hut wall. But seeing the pouring rain she stayed undercover waiting for it to stop, so that she could go and find the NAFFI canteen.

But the rain continued. Relentlessly.

She leaned against the door frame for ages looking out miserably at the British Summertime weather!

But she wasn’t surprised to see people scuttling about in their waterproofs – and she even heard laughter and someone whistling. It was the typical British spirit to keep cheerful, and it gave her some succour to carry on with her quest to find Geoff.

But how?

It was by chance that she overheard her husband’s name mentioned by a couple of Americans dressed in combat uniforms leaving the building.

Running after them she caught them up saying, “I’m Colonel Parkington’s wife. And I need to get some information to him. Urgently.”

The soldiers stopped and one turned to her saying, “Well ma’am. I guess he’s now in France.”

Intuition made her ask, “I know that. Are you’re planning to go there? I need to get this to him.” She held out the pouch for them to see.

They looked at each other. “Yep. We’re going on a raiding party. But we’re not offering to carry mail for a Limey colonel.”

From somewhere deep inside her, Vera knew she must jump at the chance to go with them to France with the message. She’d no idea of what she would find when she got there – except the enemy. But someone might know where Geoff was – the underground might be able to locate him. And as the invasion would be taking place very soon so she would have to hide until she could come back home.

“Please let me come with you,” she said impulsively. “I must do my best to find my husband.”

“He won’t like it if his pretty wife gets killed.”

“I’ll have to take my chance, like everyone else,” Vera said boldly. “I believe this pouch contains information that is something he needs to make it safe for many people going over there with stores after the invasion.”

The soldier looked at the determination on Vera’s face, and then each other. “Okay, ma’am, follow us. Our leader will decide.”

CHAPTER FOUR

VERA had always found most Americans had an easy-going manner – but they were also sticklers for rules. Meeting the members of the raiding party she found unnerving. They examined her, her identity card and the military pouch she had for Geoff with brusque thoroughness. And after she was subjected to a grilling by the leader of the raid – as if she might be an enemy spy - she felt so dazed she wasn’t sure she wanted to risk her life and go with them.

Argumentative as usual, Vera looked up at them and said clearly, “I know it is a secret. But I know nothing about the invasion plans.”

“But you know we are going to attack in Normandy.”

“So do you. And the Germans are just as likely to capture you.”

“Lady, you carry a military pouch with vitally important information.”

“The information in this pouch is in code. I don’t understand it - and I doubt if it will mean anything to the Germans either. And even if they did manage to decipher it, it won’t be of any help to them – it’s only useful for us.”

One soldier grabbed her. “Do you know what could happen to you if you are caught? The Gestapo are ruthless.”

Vera shuddered, but put on a brave face. “Of course I don’t know what will happen to me if, and when, I get to France - ”

“Ma’am, “ the leader shouted at her, “We don’t care what happens when you get over there. As long as you keep your mouth shut if you get captured. Just remember you don’t know nothin’ about us, or where the invasion is taking place. Okay?”

Vera thought that even if she was unfortunate enough to be caught by the Germans, she doubted if they would give her a harder time than these Americans.

But worse was to come. She was not prepared for the most terrifying journey of her life. The sea was in a fury and the heavens poured down incessant rain. Feeling as miserable as she’d ever felt in her life, Vera began to wish she could die before she got to the coast of France.

However, she did arrive to find herself in the early morning in Normandy. Battered, cold, and lost - because the men she came with had abandoned her hours ago.

Fortunately, she had two things in her favour. One was she had taken her cranky bicycle so it would enable her to get about. The other was that she had been blessed with an excellent French teacher at school.

But where should she start looking for Geoff?

She decided to bike to the nearest village and ask at a shop.

The mouth- watering smell of newly baked bread led her to La Boulangerie.

The trouble was, she hadn’t any French money. Not a sou.

She stood feeling very English, and uncertain. But what she didn’t expect was that a woman came swiftly along the pavement and, without saying a word, beckoned her.

Struck that she stood out like a foreigner, Vera wondered if she’d been recognized by the Gestapo. Her breathing pounded with fright. But then she noticed the middle-aged woman looked nondescript – and that’s what agents tried to be so that they didn’t attract attention. Perhaps she’d been found by friends not foes?

“Come along,” the woman said as she brushed by her.

For once, Vera didn’t argue, she wheeled her bicycle alongside the woman whose quick footsteps took them to a large stone house just outside the village. The old property had a wall around it. They walked through the gate and into a pleasant tiled courtyard.

Vera just had time to look up at the weather-beaten house, with its peeling paint and shuttered windows when she heard footsteps.

“Vera! What in the world are you doing here?”

It was Geoff!

Her heart pounding with joy, Vera felt tears of relief seeing her tall husband dressed looking very French in a shirt with rolled up sleeves, a neckerchief and beret.

“Geoff!” she cried with delight as she ran over to greet him.

But, as she came near, she noticed he looked extremely angry. “We received a call to say a courier was on the way – but I was not expecting you!”

He sounded so unwelcoming. Her footsteps slowed. He was not going to greet her by taking her in his arms and kissing her.

Puzzled, Vera stopped in front of him and taking the military pouch from her skirt waistband where she’d been carrying it, she offered it to him saying, “I brought this message which arrived soon after you left home. I thought you would need it . . . ”

He almost snatched the pouch from her and opening it, strode away from her and began to read the contents as though she didn’t matter.

Welling up inside her was acute disappointment. She had suffered she much to bring him the message – and now he was ignoring her! In fact, he seemed to be furious with her.

Feeling someone nudging her elbow, she looked to see the woman who had bought her to the house indicting that she should come in the house.

A large cup of coffee and a freshly baked roll helped to pacify her as she sat in the French kitchen.

After awhile Vera became aware that many people were coming and going and snatches of French she heard suggested the furtive nature of their activates. And when two men arrive with rifles slung over their shoulders, she guessed this house was a safe house for agents and saboteurs.

Exhausted after her travels she was pleased when she was shown a bed inside the house, and lying down was soon asleep.

* * *

Vera had no idea what time it was when she awoke. She ached from head to toe and was glad just to remain where she was lying down.

But she was relieved to have found Geoff – and had been able to give him the message.

However, as she lay there, she wondered how she was going to get home. Geoff didn’t seem to want to acknowledge her, and the house was full of busy agents, all preparing for the invasion as they were in England.

I must just keep myself scarce. Hidden. Until the invasion is over – which I hope and pray will be successful.

Then after awhile she thought,
I’d love a cup of tea – and a wash.

That desire increased until she got up and finding a bathroom she was able to wash and change her underwear, which she had packed in her knapsack. But, seeing the ladder in her stocking, she chuckled, wishing she’d asked one of the Americans for some nylon stockings they were known to carry in their pockets.

Gingerly finding her way to the kitchen she found it empty. So filling a kettle from a jug of water she got from the pump at the sink, and taking a hunk of bread from a long French loaf on the table she was about to eat her breakfast – when she heard footsteps on the tiled floor.

Turning to see who it was opening the door she smiled as Geoff came into the kitchen with a frown on his face.

“Get me a coffee too, will you?” he said casually as though they were at home.

“Yes, sir,” she replied sharply, but he didn’t seem to notice her sarcasm. He sat down on a chair and put his elbows on the table and his hands over his face.

Alarmed, Vera went over put her hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright?”

He shrugged off her hand saying. “No. No. Nothing is certain. Except we are going to be bombed, heavily, very soon.”

“Oh dear!”

“You may very well say, Oh dear! Being under a bombing raid is murder. I’ve known it . . . you haven’t. Everything gets shattered. You may not survive.”

Vera didn’t like the sound of that. “Haven’t you a shelter?”

He didn’t reply.

She made the coffee and brought him a cup saying, “Wasn’t the information I brought you any use?”

“Of course it was.”

Vera was pleased about that. But he didn’t seem to be.

Sipping her coffee and pulling a slice of bread apart with her teeth she chewed it then swallowed and said, “Well I suppose I’d better see about getting back to England.”

“Easier said than done.”

So that was the crux of the matter. Geoff was pleased to get the information she’d brought him. But he now had the problem of getting her home safely. So she realised she had added to his worries.

“Listen, Geoff, ” she said looking into his eyes and longing to kiss him, “I got here on my own, knowing it was a dangerous thing to do and I’ll get back on my own. Forget about me. I’ll hide somewhere, and once the invasion troops have come I’ll manage to get a lift back - somehow.”

“What if the Germans throw us back into the sea?”

“Oh they won’t do that. Churchill wouldn’t allow it!”

Geoff’s strained face changed as he began to laugh. “Oh Vera, you’re quite a gal!”

Vera was pleased to see his pent up tension being released. He looked at her with deep affection despite shaking his head. “Let’s hope you’re right,” he said, “But I am right about the bombing.”

Longing for him to take her in his arms, she lowered her eyes. She had to be brave. Nothing would remove them both from the danger around them. “Yes,” she said with a sigh, “I believe you.” Then glancing out of the window at the peaceful garden, she gave a shudder. She’d been to London and seen the results of the bombing there to know the devastation is caused – and the deaths and injuries. “Don’t think that I came to France for the fun of it. I really believed you needed the information that was in that pouch – and I couldn’t think of any other way of making sure you got it.”

Suddenly he bent forward and kissed her cheek. “Yes, it was important. It doesn’t improve the chances of Mulberry being a success. But it will help my job of setting it up here. So I do thank you for bringing it. But now it is your safety that bothers me . . . I don’t know what to do with you. Deception is vital – the Germans mustn’t know what we are planning. You know enough to assist the enemy in that if they get to know about the invasion being here, they will bring down reinforcements to this area and throw us off the beaches when we try and land. You are a potential risk to the whole operation.”

Vera realised she had helped him by delivering the pouch but unwittingly she’d added to his worries too. What could she say that would make him forget her?

“Listen,” she said, “I am one person. You have hundreds to think about. Get on with your job as if I am not here. I know you have a lot to do. Please try and forget I am here. I promise you I will lie low.”

He stood up and went to the window looking out at the sky as if he expected it to be filled with aircraft dropping parachutes - or seeing heavy bombers droning overhead. “Yes, I still have a lot to do. I must go now. The invasion may take place any day.”

She stood too and went over to him, slipping her arm around his waist until he turned and held her tight. “Promise to look after yourself,” he said in a cracked voice, and kissing her forehead before releasing her he strode out of the house.

Feeling devastated she heard his footsteps fade away.

She went back and sat down at the table. Alone, and for the first time feeling certain she might never see him again. The fear of being killed or injured or captured by the Gestapo - thoughts such as these raced through her mind.