The Girl From Mile End. Ch16.

WAAF=Women's Auxiliary Air Force. LACW=Leading Aircraftwoman.

Chapter 16.

It was early evening and I looked out to the platform as the train rolled into London’s Euston station and came squeaking to a halt. I pulled my kitbag down from the rack and smiled as I remembered the long white kit bag I had when I left the recruit training. It was a monster and I was so happy when I managed to acquire this smaller more handleable bag. I looked at the stencilled letters on the side. LAC(W) Elsie Godsalve. I can't understand why that is not on the documents back at camp. On the documents at my section, I'm 167 Leading Aircraftwoman Godsalve E. Motor Transport Driver, Royal Air Force Sealand, Chester. But still, a few months from now I will probably just be, Miss Elsie Godsalve.

         It was a long journey from Chester and I had time to think of my future and my past now the war was over. Well it was over in Europe; the Japanese were still fighting. I thought back to how my aunt and uncle took me on, being my closest relatives, after my parents were killed in a train crash. They became my new mother and father and I vaguely remember when my new mother gave birth to my sister, Alice. As I got older I felt as if I were shunted into the background as they doted more on their birth child. In my teenage years, it seemed like they resented me and I even sometimes thought that they hated me. To be fair though, I was a bit of a rebel in my adolescent years. Maybe they didn't hate me; it just felt like they did. A smile crossed my face as I thought of my sister, Alice. Unlike my relationship with my parents, Alice and I were always very close and we spent many happy times together at the local dance hall. Tears began to well up in my eyes as I thought of, Alice. I would need to change my thoughts.

         "Euston Station, all change," a porter shouted as he strolled along the platform.

         What a stupid thing to say at a terminus. We all have to get off anyway. I was about to leave the compartment when I noticed I had left the bar of milk chocolate that Bobby had given me on the seat. I would have preferred dark chocolate or even a sandwich. Still, I picked it up and put it in my pocket thinking of Bobby. Dear, sweet, Bobby. He told me he loved me when he saw me off at the station. He actually loved me. I felt such a wonderful feeling inside, I could have cried with the emotion that I felt, but luckily I didn't.

         I stood in thought for a while thinking of Bobby and all the friends I had made back in Chester and how I would miss them all when I was de-mobbed.

         The porter was on his way back and he banged on the window. "I called all change," he shouted. "You have to get off unless you want to spend the night in the carriage sidings."

         I got off the train and walked proudly along the platform in my WAAF uniform. As I was passing the huge green steam locomotive at the front of the train, I heard a wolf whistle. The fireman was leaning on the steel half-door looking over and smiling. I continued walking but gave him a wave and smiled back at him because he only looked about fifteen or sixteen and a lot younger than Bobby. Cheeky young bugger. I love this station. The sounds and smells of the steam locomotives are like a magical experience to me. I strolled out of the station into the cool night air. It was a strange delight to see all the street lights on and some of the buildings with no black-out curtains.

         A woman stopped to look at me. "Air force girl," she said. "Thank you. Thank you for all what you done." She slapped me on my back and walked off.

         I grinned as she walked away. I had not done that much, but I suppose I did my bit. I walked around to Euston Square Underground Station and got on the train to Mile End. As I sat on the train I began to wonder if I have any future at home at all. I have no love for my adoptive parents and I feel they have no love for me. While I was at RAF Sealand, I wrote home many times but I only got letters back from Alice. When her letters stopped I received the only letter I ever got from my parents. I remember the day the letter came telling me that Alice had been killed. I was devastated and despite my writing for details of the funeral I never heard from them again. I try to be a nice person but I almost hate them for not letting me know about the funeral. They are horrible people; horrible. But I have to call home. Maybe I'll stay for the weekend or maybe I won't. It will all depend on their attitude towards me, although I don't hold out much hope.

         I got off at Mile End and walked up to the street. Again it seemed strange to see everywhere lit up. The devastation was still a shock to me although I should have expected it. I looked at the destroyed cinema remembering all the good times that I had there with Alice and our friends before the war. I remained for a few moments staring at the ruin before setting off up Grove Road towards home; walking along the pavement and swinging my kitbag slightly as I went. An elderly woman waved to me from one of the windows of a terraced house. I smiled and waved back. I knew her from when I was a child and I often used to run errands for her to the local shop for a few pennies. Further on two young boys ran out and began marching around, saluting me as they passed. I returned their salutes and gave them the chocolate bar before ruffling the hair of one of the boys as I walked off.

         I carried on up the road and was horrified when I saw that our house and some others had been destroyed. I was shocked and worried as well as angry. Why didn’t I know about this? I rushed across the street to a neighbour's house and banged on the door.

         "Where are my parents?" I shouted as soon as the door opened. The woman looked at me and I could tell she was uncomfortable at seeing me.

         "You'd better come inside for a cup of tea, dear," she said.

         "No," I answered abruptly. "Where are my parents? Were they in the public shelter?"

         "I'm afraid not, Elsie. It was not a raid. It seems that there was an unexploded bomb that had buried itself in the garden next door. No one knew it was there. For some reason it just went off at two in morning. It must have been a big bugger and no one stood a chance over there. I'm so sorry. Come on; come in for a sit-down and I'll make you a cuppa."

         "No, no thank you." I tried to sound a bit more polite, feeling slightly guilty at the way I had spoken to her. "I'll just get back to camp, there's nothing for me here now."

         "Are you sure? You need to have a sit-down and take this all in. It must be a terrible shock."

         Although the woman always had a friendly attitude, I felt no desire to remain in the street. We said our goodbyes and I took a final look at the rubble where our home used to be before walking off. I thought of going to see the wrecked dance hall, but I wisely realised that it might not be a good idea.

         Despite the way my adoptive parents treated me, I felt a terrible loss. Guilt came over me about the bad things I had been thinking about them. After all, they had adopted me and they were all I had. Now I have no one; no one at all.

         But then, I thought, that's not true. I have plenty of friends back at camp. I made my way back to Euston Station. As I travelled down here from Chester only hours before I remember thinking and wondering about my future. Now I realise where my future is. My future is with my friends in Chester. Not just my service pals but the local civilians as well. Then there's Bobby. Oh, Bobby, I can't wait to see him again. How could I forget about him? I would have loved to kiss him back when he said he loved me, but all I could do was blush like a silly teenager and wave from the window as the train pulled away.

         As I sat in the carriage at Euston station waiting to leave, I wished I had kept the chocolate bar. I had not eaten a thing since breakfast. An elderly couple came into the compartment and sat opposite me. Every time I looked over they returned a smile.

         "Thank, God, it's all over," the woman said to me. She took a lunch box tin from her bag. "Would you like a scrambled egg sandwich? They are real eggs; we have chickens." The man, who I assumed to be her husband, just nodded his head in agreement.

         I was very hungry and eagerly accepted her kind offer.

         "Been home on leave then, luvvy?" The woman asked. "Leaving home and going back to camp are you?"

         "Not really," I said. "I am going back to camp, but I'm not leaving home. I'm going home."

         It was late when I got back to Chester General and I hurried across to Chester Northgate and just managed to get the last train to Sealand station. I got back to the block and went straight to bed. The loss of my adoptive parents troubled me for a while, but then I began thinking of Bobby and I drifted off to sleep. I was bored on Sunday. I kept away from the transport depot in case the sergeant was there. He would possibly think that I had not left the camp. I don't know why that should bother him but I'm sure it would. I had a lunchtime drink and spent some time with friends at the camp bar and then walked over to the railway. I waited and watched a train passing but it was not Bobby’s train. There are not so many trains on Sunday’s so I returned to the block and read a book. Normally Sunday would be an enjoyable day for me if I were not on duty. This day, however, it was a miserable time for me; thinking of the tragedy in East London and somehow missing Bobby even though I had not known him for long.

         Back to work Monday and I was kept busy on the crew bus running the aircrews back and to. In the slack periods my mind drifted to the forthcoming night’s meeting with Bobby.

         I met Bobby at Chester General as arranged and when I looked at him all I could think of was that kiss. We had a great evening in a local bar where they were still celebrating V.E.Day. Later he walked me back to Northgate station to catch the train back to camp.

         “I’m working tomorrow night,” he said. “But I can meet you on Wednesday if you can make it?”

         “I will be glad to meet you again Bobby. And again and again,” I said, but had embarrassed myself by appearing to be too eager. “Same time at Chester General?”

         “No, meet me at Sealand Station on platform two at seven forty-five. You must be on time though.”

         “Don’t worry,” I said. “I’ll be there. Will you be getting off the train then?”

         “I’ll be on the train, yes.”

         It was time to leave and Bobby reached over and kissed me. But it was not a quick kiss like before; it was a long passionate kiss which excited me more than I thought possible.

         On Wednesday I stood on the platform just before seven forty-five. The place was deserted with no one waiting for the train. I heard the whistle before I noticed the steam train approaching. As it got nearer I noticed that it was a freight train. The train rolled into the station, the huge driving wheels clanking the side rods, the squeal of the brakes mixing with the whoosh and puff sound from the funnel. The locomotive pulled up squeaking and steaming it came to a halt.

         Why the hell is a freight train pulling up here? This will make the passenger train late. I don’t know what time Bobby will get here now.

STATIC

The Girl From Mile End. Ch 17.   (18+) A trip on a train. #2291567 by Bruce.