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by Bruce.
Rated: 18+ · Chapter · Drama · #2291482
The V1 Buzz-Bombs start arriving.
WAAF=Women's Auxiliary Air Force. MT=Motor Transport. NAAFI=Navy Army & Air Force Institute.

Chapter 13


Daisy’s funeral was as expected a very solemn affair. Lots of her family were there and it seemed as if most of the personnel were there from the base, though obviously they weren’t. I became withdrawn for a while after the loss of the girl who had become my best friend. I hardly went to the NAAFI bar, just going on the few occasions when one of the girls had a celebration. Even Christmas and New Year were non-events for me as I suffered from depression. Most of the time I sat on my bed reading. I had a few letters from my sister Alice who was still claiming that she was going to join the Women’s Land Army like her pal Molly. In all the time I had been in the WAAF though, I had not received a single letter from my parents. Daisy’s bed was soon occupied again and I found it strange to see someone else there.

         I thought of Mitch. Perhaps a few dates with him might cheer me up. I made a telephone call to the Officer’s Mess at Kenley and was pleasantly surprised when I actually got through. I asked if Mitch was in the mess and the steward told me he was at home in Wiltshire with a spot of leave after getting married to a local girl there. That’s that then, I thought.

         Weeks turned into months and I had taken a lot of education tests and passed them all. It was still a surprise, however, when the M T Officer recommended me for promotion to Leading Aircraftwoman which was then granted by the Commanding officer.

         London was suffering from another blitz. My sister Alice kept me posted as to what was going on there. At Uxbridge air raid warnings were now becoming frequent and always of a night. Although a few bombs had fallen here before I arrived, none landed on the base now, although one was pretty close and the explosion still rattled the windows.

         At the start of June I was called into the M T Officer’s office.

         “I’m afraid we are losing you, Godsalve.”

         “What do you mean, sir?”

         “A posting has come through for you.”

         “That is great news, sir. I applied for a transfer to Kenley, but I didn’t think that I would get it.”

         “Well, you haven’t. You’ve been posted to RAF Sealand.”

         I was silent for a moment. “Where the heck is RAF Sealand, Sir?”

         “It’s in North Wales, near Chester.”

         “North Wales! But sir, I have family near Kenley. My aunt and uncle live there. I don’t want to go to Wales.”

         “You don’t have a choice.

         "That's not fair, sir."

         The MT Officer raised his voice. "Fair, fair. Nothing's fair in this bloody war, Godsalve. You are in the Air Force and you'll go where you are told, like it or not. How dare you imply that it is not fair?"

         "I'm sorry, sir."

         "I should think so as well. If it's any consolation I can assure you, that is not my decision and I would much rather keep you here. You are a great asset to the section and very well thought of by all. Now do you want a weekend pass to see your family before you go? I understand you are from East London.”

         “Yes, sir, I would.”

         “I’ll get your forty eight leave pass sorted for the end of June and then you will be leaving here. Okay, Godsalve, get back to your duties.”

         “Thank you, sir,” I said, saluted and walked out. The WAAF room would soon be empty. Thelma had been posted to Lincolnshire a month before. I wondered if it was a plan by the MT Officer to get rid of the WAAFs from the section.

         Something was going on at the camp. High ranking type staff cars were coming and going. Sometimes to the Officer's mess and sometimes to the bunker, which was a secret place and we were not supposed to know of it. But because some of the WAAF’s actually worked there most of us did seem to know a bit about it. It was common knowledge a few days later that it had something to do with controlling the D-Day landings. That explained the comings and goings of the high ranking officers and V.I.Ps.

         A few days before my weekend pass a flying bomb landed in the town. Many houses were destroyed and the casualties were high. An amount of our airmen were sent to help out. I was not supposed to go but went anyway. The scene of devastation would have shocked me years before, but I had become accustomed to it now.

         There was rubble and smashed timber spread all over the street from the demolished houses. This is where the main rescue work was going on. I looked into a garden and saw a pram on its side barely visible from rubble and parts of a roof on top. I went over and heard a slight whimpering. I started throwing back the rubble and moving the timber. Eventually I came across a young child sheltered in the body of the pram. I picked her up, she started screaming and I did my best to comfort her. As I turned around there was a flash and I saw a cameraman standing there. “Got nothing better to do?” I shouted. “Why don’t you give a hand to the rescuers?”

         “This is just as important,” he said.

         “Piss off,” I said and hurried passed him to pass the child to a medic.

         The next day I was getting ready to leave for home and one of the girls came in with a local newspaper. “Have you seen this, Elsie?" She passed the newspaper to me.

         There was a picture of me on the front page holding the little girl, with the caption. “Heroine air force girl pulls a child from the rubble following an incident in Middlesex.” I must admit it did cause me to smile.

         "You’re a heroine, Elsie,” the girl said.

         “Yes,” I said. “So are thousands of others who don’t get their photo in the paper.”

         I got the Underground train across to Mile End. It was a dismal sight when I left the station. Not a light shining anywhere. Lots of people were about though walking in the darkness. The gruesome silhouettes of destroyed buildings were noticeable from the light of the moon. More destruction now because of the latest blitz outrage by the German Bombers and when that ended it was not long until the V1 buzz bombs started arriving. It was hazardous crossing the main road in the dark but thankfully I made it safely. I walked up Grove Road and as I went under the propped up railway bridge I saw the row of houses that had been flattened by the first buzz-bomb to hit London. The poor souls asleep in the early hours thought that they were safe now the blitz was over, and then this horror starts. I got to our house and knocked at the front door. Alice opened the door and immediately launched herself at me.

         “Oh, Elsie,” she said. “I miss you so much. I wish you would come home more often.”

         I walked into the living room and my parents didn’t even get up. “Oh, so you eventually decided to come home then,” Father said.

         “Yes. And it’s good to see you too.”

         “I suppose you want a cuppa? “ Mother said.

         “Please,” I said.

         Eventually my mother stood up and gave me a hug. "I’ll see what’s in the pantry,” she said.

         “It’s all right, Mother, I’ve eaten.”

         “I’ll just make a pot of tea then.”

         We sat listening to the Radio and not saying much.

         “When are you going back?” Father said.

         “She’s only just got here,” Alice said.

         “Just asking. By the way, the baker's shop where you worked was bombed again.”

         "That is bad news. I'll have to try to get around to their house and see them."

         "They are not there."

         "Well, where are they?"

         "In the cemetery."

         "Do you think that's bloody funny, do you?"

         "Elsie!" Mother shouted.

         "I know, don't be cheeky towards my Dad. And when has he ever been a Dad to me?"

         Alice jumped up from her seat. “It’s nearly eight o’clock,” she said. “Fancy going up the dance hall for a couple of hours?”

         “A bit silly isn’t it, with what’s going on.”

         I ignored his comment. “All right, just get me out of here.”

         Father just sat shaking his head as we were leaving. Mother looked worried but said nothing.

         As we walked up the road the air raid sirens sounded. We could just hear the buzz of the V1 engine over the sound of the siren. We stopped walking to listen. The buzzing stopped. “What do we do now?” Alice said.

         “Pray,” I said. There soon followed an explosion but it seemed some distance away.

         “Some poor sod’s copped it,” Alice said.

         “Let’s not think about it,” I said and we continued to the dance hall.

         We got inside and Alice looked around as if searching for someone. “There’s not many Yanks in now,” she said. “A couple of weeks ago it was full of them. I had some brilliant nights I can tell you.”

         “Yes, I bet you did.”

         There were still a few American soldiers in though and one walked over to me. “Hey, Honey, will you have a dance?”

         “My name’s not Honey and I will have a dance but not with you,” I said and turned away.

         “Your loss,” he said.

         “Are you mad,” Alice said.

         “Bloody full of himself.”

         “Hello, Elsie.”

         The voice came from behind me and I turned around. It was sailor Hughie.

         “It’s great to see you again, Elsie. I hoped you would be here and may I say you look wonderful in uniform?”

         “No, you may not say. So, where was my letters Hughie?”

         “I did mean to write to you. Sorry, but I was so busy I didn’t get the time. But I’m here now, so shall we get on the dance floor?”

         “Sorry,” I said, "but I am so busy; I don’t have the time.” I turned my back on him. “Come on Alice,” I said and walked back over to the American soldier. “Hi,” I said. “Now I am Honey and I will dance with you if the offer still stands. Have you got a friend for my sister?”

         He looked at Alice and then shouted over to his pal who was chatting to a British soldier. “Chuck, get your ass over here, boy.”

         Alice and I had a wonderful night with these two men. We spent most of the evening dancing and laughing with a few refreshment breaks at one of the tables before getting up again. They seemed very interested in me being in the WAAF and took turns taking a few photographs posing with me and Alice. They were very polite, even thanking us for spending time with them because they were leaving for France in a few days. At the end of the evening they walked us to the corner of our street. The kissing began; it was out of this world and they didn’t even try to take any liberties with us. If he were not going over to France I could fall for him in a big way. It had to end though and they went off and we walked over towards our front door.

         “I think I’m in love,” Alice said.

         “Not again.” I said. “And he is going off to join the troops in France. You won’t see him again.”

         “Might do,” she said. “I gave him our address and he said he would write to me from France. And when he gets back here we will meet up again.”

         “Okay,” I said. But I thought that it would be very unlikely.

         Sunday I was up early and I set off back to Uxbridge mid morning. The American soldier stayed in my mind most of the day. I had become very fond of him even in the short time we were together. I even prayed for him to keep safe when he went to France.

 
STATIC
The Girl From Mile End. Ch 14.  (18+)
More bad news for Elsie.
#2291493 by Bruce.
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