Chapter 29: We Illustrious Few 2nd June 1940
With news that seemed to deteriorate by the day, it was starting to become clear to the population of Great Britain, that the kingdom would soon face the Nazi threat against their own homes. A war that began far away in Poland was inching further towards the hard-working people of the nation, as the disastrous campaign to stop them failed. Though the general public was yet to know it, and even the Government yet to confirm it themselves, the French were prepared to abandon their allies in favour of peace with the unstoppable Germans. It would leave Britain as the final standing stone between Hitler and European Domination, with the bigger target of America then firmly in his sights should he wish to try to take it. It made the mood around the country bleak, especially as the Government were making suggestions for people to get themselves bomb shelters.
In Derry, bomb shelters were not commonly installed by families. Some already had them in their gardens, preparing well in advance for the threat, but others believed them to be unnecessary. At first, the Quinn's took that approach with Gerry believing like many that the war would have already been over at this point, the Germans beaten. The longer it went on, the more it played on his mind and he was not willing to risk his family's safety should the progress of the German Military continue. The Devlin's already had their Anderson shelter built, Sean insisting that it was done as early as possible. Martin was considering installing one at the Mallon's, however Joe was of the opposite mind to Gerry next door. Believing it would be less hassle, he insisted that between the lot of them, they all share one shelter. Gerry did not agree but Mary thought her Da was right, which left him out of allies completely. She was too busy fretting about the rationing, that was starting to become more of a problem in Northern Ireland, to care about whether it would be too cramped during a bombing raid, like Gerry expected it to be.
The first part of getting the shelter ready was digging a pit for it to sit in. Joe also insisted on the shelter being located outside rather than inside like some people were doing, which meant that the hole would have to be dug at the bottom of the garden, behind the vegetable patch that Gerry tended to so carefully. After they'd returned from church that morning, Mary despatched them both into the garden to get started, insisting that by the time that the sun set that evening, the two of them would have it completed. Until then, neither of them was allowed anything to eat and only a glass of water when she determined they deserved one. A brutal regime, it was intended to make them speed up but the only thing it was accelerating was the arguments that the two men were having.
"Have you finished yer diggin' yet…". Joe moaned at him. "… ye useless free state prick!"
A typical barb thrown his way, Gerry allowed the abuse to bounce off him, not reacting to it. Joe was stood waiting for him, having finished digging his bit half a minute earlier, albeit with ten minutes head start on his son in-law. For once, Anna was misbehaving after they came in from church, Mary having told her that she couldn't have what she wanted for her lunch because they needed to save some food for later in the week. Though their smart young daughter knew they needed to, she was still just a child, and denied what she wanted, she became very moody. It was not often that Gerry became stern with anyone, but he did with Anna, who ran off up to her room crying once he'd finished. Mary gave her no sympathy either, thanking her husband for dealing with their youngest's errant behaviour before re-dispatching him into the garden.
"I'll be finished in a couple of minutes… then we can start putting it together".
"A couple of minutes! There might be a German bomber overhead in a couple of minutes and this family might be dead because ye were being a lazy shite".
"That's a bit far-fetched now, Joe".
It might have been a bit far-fetched, but it was also incredibly stupid. Stupid of Gerry to think that talking back to Joe would be a good idea, when almost every time it was not. When he glanced up hesitantly at the older man, it was fair to say that Joe was not pleased.
"Oh I see, ye don't want to build this wee shelter now. Ye want this family to all die when those Kraut bastards start bombin' our homes. I knew ye couldn't be trusted!".
"No, Joe…". Gerry huffed. "I'm just not as good as you are at diggin' holes".
"Aye isn't that the truth!"
Turning away, Gerry rolled his eyes and continued to dig, the best strategy that he could hope to maintain around Joe. From inside, Mary watched the two with a close eye, making sure that her father didn't attempt to commit any acts of violence against her husband. They were also drawing a crowd from next door too, with Sarah watching on from her bedroom in anticipation of the sparks that were most likely to fly between the two men. Staying true to his word though, Gerry finished his section a couple of minutes later, climbing out of the pit in the ground to stand next to Joe who was surveying it closely.
"What are ye thinkin' there Joe?"
Gerry's enquiry was innocent but ultimately just as foolish as it normally was.
"I'm thinkin' if I hit ye with this shovel, I can bury ye in this hole so that my Mary's sufferin' comes to an end".
Of course he was. The death threats never breached the bounds of just that, leaving Gerry unmoved when it came to the words that he was assaulted with. The first times he'd been threatened all those years ago, he did genuinely fear Joe, but he knew that if Mary's father had any inkling to take up the threats, he'd have done so by now. Still, it kept him in line though. Deciding to say absolutely nothing in return, he waited until Joe was ready to say something again, which unluckily for him was not long at all.
"Cat got yer tongue now has it?" He sneered. "Ye know Gerry, I really don't understand the point of you as a human being. Ye talk shite when ye should shut up, and then when ye need to say somethin'… ye don't!"
Joe could be particularly infuriating on some days, with Gerry coming to the realisation that it was going to be one of those days. It was good of him not to walk off, staying to help, though if that was his justification for being so abusive then Gerry would have rather he went next door. The only problem with that would have been that Joe would have been stood where Sarah was, except the window would have been open with the older man shouting instructions out of it whilst no doubt working his son-in law at an infernal pace.
"Right then, ye slack southern shite, let's get this started".
The foundations for the shelter were soon set, the two actually working well in tandem for once without a single argument. As lunchtime ticked by without any food in their bellies, they were putting aside their differences in order for the job to be completed. Mary's draconian approach to making them get the job done did come with its merits in that regard, Gerry being thankful for it despite going hungry. When they did work together sensibly, the job got done far quicker as both men were fairly practical. Though Joe rarely gave him any credit for it, Gerry was a very able manual labourer when he was allowed to show it. His hard work allowed Joe to rest easier, taking a couple of breaks as his old age began to catch up with him. His Son in-law said nothing about them, allowing it out of respect but also care for the man that often made his life miserable. The last thing he wanted was to give Joe a heart attack from the exertions.
In the early afternoon they moved onto the curved panels that would form the outer shell of the shelter. The panels were made of corrugated galvanised iron, sturdy material that curved up so that it could then be bolted together at the top. The iron was a very adequate protector against the shock of a blast, being able to absorb tremendous amounts of energy without collapsing. Although some of the other types of shelters were made out of concrete, which gave a sense of security when it came to protection, the concrete could not take the amount of energy that the iron could during a blast. Under significant pressure, the walls would cave in, taking the roof with them, killing or trapping anyone inside. Apart from a direct hit, which would be incredibly unlucky for the occupants, the Anderson shelter could protect a family from any blast. For them it was important too, as the nearest air raid shelter to their houses was a few streets away, and during a bombing raid, being able to get the family out and there before the bombs started falling would be a difficult task.
"You alright up there, Gerry?"
Joe called up to him as Gerry worked on bolting together the panels. Having to stretch over from the one side of the pit to the other, Joe's old muscles wouldn't have been suited to the task, so he volunteered to do it in his place.
"Aye I'm grand Joe, ye were right about the spanner".
The only time they'd come close to an argument since their attempts to speed up, they disagreed over the choice of spanner to use on tightening the bolts. Gerry insisted that it was the one he would use to tighten up other things around the house whereas Joe believed they needed a heavier duty one, calling upon Jim across the road to borrow the tool. Gerry's first attempt with his spanner proved that he was at least wrong, unable to get a grip on the bolts to be able to fasten the panels in place. After Joe returned from Jim's, thankfully without Jim in tow, it was abundantly clear that with age came wisdom. Though he'd never built an Anderson shelter before, Joe's brain's calculations were instant when it came to the choice of equipment to ensure it was done correctly. He'd sought a second opinion from Jim, a fact he chose to keep from Gerry, who confirmed that the spanner he needed was the right one. Jim himself was one of the first people in Derry to install an Anderson, the bank around which he'd made a flowerbed out of.
"I'm always right Gerry, haven't ye figured that out yet?" Joe responded with a smirk.
"Ach no, I think I'd forgotten".
Snorting in his amusement, Joe continued to keep a close eye on proceedings. With Mary still holding firm about the two of them not being allowed any food, he wanted the job to be done properly the first time, to the standard that she deemed fit. Knowing Mary's standards, it would have to be almost perfection for them to be able to see a plate of food again that day. They were allowed a glass of water each though and believing that it was time for their next one, Mary sent her sister out to the two men with them. Sarah eventually became bored of watching from her bedroom window, so she walked round to the house next door, helping out Mary with clearing up from her own lunch with Erin and Anna.
"Here ye go, Da". Sarah smiled, handing him his glass.
"Thank you love". He replied with a smile on his face.
Sarah continued to hold onto Gerry's glass as Joe took a sip from his. Relishing from the water hitting his parched lips then wetting his drying throat, Joe relaxed as he continued to drink. The weather wasn't helping their cause either that afternoon as it was absolutely boiling hot in Derry. As much as he'd prayed at church that morning that it didn't rain, which would have made digging the pit a boggy mess, what he didn't want in return was the sun to come out in full force. Without any food in their bellies, and only a meagre few glasses of water to survive upon, both men were carrying headaches which would persist until the job was done.
Finishing the glass incredibly quickly, he breathed out a sigh to indicate his great refreshment, passing the empty glass back to the shocked Sarah. With his own needs satisfied, Joe took it upon himself to ensure that Gerry took a few minutes break to get some energy back.
"GERRY!"
His shout startled Gerry, who was leaning over fixing the last bolt of the end panels in place. Putting himself off balance, he could do nothing to stop himself stumbling to the side and into the rear of the bank, covering himself in mud as he crashed down into it. The look of disappointment on Joe's face was palpable.
"Ach where's Gerry gone, Da?"
Joe loved his daughter, but she could be very oblivious to what was going on around her at times. Very much living in her own bubble, there were plenty of times since the war began that made him think she'd forgotten that there was even a war on. When the shops in the city centre first began to inform customers that they could only have a certain amount of each item, Sarah put up a fierce display. When the butcher would only give her eight slices of bacon instead of twelve, the poor fella was met with eyes of fury that would have made Father Peter consider an exorcism. To Sarah, it was very unreasonable of the man to disrupt her schedule by refusing to give her the food that she wanted. The war was an inconvenience on her, forcing her to adapt from the comfortable life that she'd lived before the start of it. The only saving grace for them was Marie, as younger children were allowed a few extra rations of certain foods, though bacon was sadly not one of them.
"He's rollin' around in the mud like a wee pig". Joe laughed.
"Is that what the Free State fellas do Da? Do they use some fellas for Bacon, sure should we not be slicin' up Gerry to serve at the table?"
Though he'd often entertained the thought of slicing up Gerry, Joe always came to the conclusion that he would taste horrible if served as dinner. The meat probably wouldn't be very tough as the Southerner was a measly bastard in Joe's eyes.
"I don't think we can use Gerry as a substitute love". He chuckled. "Yer sister wouldn't like that, would she?"
Nodding her head, Sarah soon caught sight of Gerry, who'd climbed out of the soil filled bank to walk around to them. His face was covered with mud from where he'd landed, Joe breaking out into howling laughter when he saw him.
"I never thought I'd say this Gerry…". Joe could barely contain his laughter. "… but ye've found a way to make yerself look even more stupider!"
Unamused, Gerry wanted to get himself cleaned up. Mary would allow the two back into the house should they require use of the toilet, but in the state he was in, he wouldn't be allowed back in until they were finished. Quite rightly, he knew that Mary would point out that he could very easily fall into the bank of soil again or be pushed if Joe lost his temper. Which was more than likely if they didn't make the progress that he wanted them to.
"Thank ye for the wee drink Sarah". Gerry said as he took it from her.
"Mary was worried you's might start faintin' out in this heat. Ye could fry a dinner out here so you could, it's boilin', so it is".
Unable to disagree, Gerry nodded his head before starting his drink. His back was hurting from the strain of the consistent leaning across, as well as his drop into the bank, rubbing at it with his free hand whilst he consumed the glass of water. Joe took notice of his action, but said nothing about it, not wanting Gerry to think for even a second that he would actually care.
"Yer doin' a grand job, so ye are". Sarah said to them both.
"Aye. I know". Joe gleefully replied. "I reckon we'll be done by six if we keep this up. Don't you, Gerry?"
Taking the glass away from his lips, Gerry finished gulping down the water before giving his answer to Joe, in agreement with his father in-law.
"I think so too".
"Well I'm glad so I am, it makes me feel safe knowin' we have one of these wee shelters". Sarah smiled. "It'll keep little Marie safe too".
Marie's safety was another driving force behind the decision to get the Anderson shelter up. If there was one thing that they could all agree on, then it was making sure that the youngest member of the family would be safe from the bombs, Orla too. Mother and daughter were the main priorities of all of them, ahead of their own safety. Even the usually self-centred Erin agreed that the two's safety outweighed her own.
"Do ye know if Anna's calmed down yet, Sarah?"
Hoping that his youngest would be back to her normal self, rather than the unusually poorly behaved wain that she was earlier that morning, Gerry asked the question.
"She's not Gerry, Mary said she's been cryin' all the time since ye had a word with her or somethin'".
"BIG MAN!" Joe shouted at him. "Ye proud of yerself are ye, makin' Anna cry all afternoon!?"
The truce between the two didn't last long. A furious Joe looked as if he was ready to tear Gerry in half, disgusted that he had the audacity to cause his youngest granddaughter to get herself upset. Anna might have misbehaved, and she would often cry whenever Joe told her off, but when it was the slack Southern shite responsible for doing so, it was much worse.
"She was misb-".
"I don't care what she was doin'! She shouldn't expect to have to cry because yer an irresponsible parent, so ye are!"
Sensing that the two could be about to come to blows, Sarah cleverly decided that she would offer them a service that would stop their arguments. She was, after all, Anna's aunt and sometimes a young girl would need the comforting shoulder of her Aunt if she was upset. She couldn't offer up too much else to help Anna, especially when the wain was in the wrong, but she could at least be there for her to try to cheer her up.
"Why don't I go and have a wee chat with Anna?"
Before either of them could land another verbal barb, Joe and Gerry both turned to look at her with thankful looks on their faces. Joe's thanks came from his appreciation that she was going to try ti make Anna happy again; Gerry's came from that and because it kept Joe happy.
Sarah soon left them, an empty glass in either hand, with the intention of going upstairs to see Anna immediately.
"Right then ye massive eejit, let's get this job finished".
Smart for her age, perhaps too smart, Anna was beginning to feel unheard in a family full of loud voices. She may have only been four years old but she could be frighteningly perceptive when she wanted to be, a skill which came in handy when living in Derry. Then only problem for her though was unlike her big sister, her Mammy, Aunt or Granda, she was quiet and reserved a lot of the time. More in her father's image, like Gerry she would often be drowned out in a room with other people, though unlike her father, she could at least scream when she wanted attention. She never did scream though because she was better than that… she would not allow herself to scream.
Consequently, she did not ask too much of her Mammy even though she still highly depended on her for many things. Being well fed was one of those things, and when Mary told her daughter that she would be having some of her meals cut back due to the shortages, Anna saw red. All she could ask for was a decent meal, but her cries ended up seeing her punished by her father, who laid down the law to her. With Marie coming into the family too, she did sometimes wonder whether her parents forgot she was there a lot of the time, Erin also, and there was only really Granda Joe who she could talk to.
Finding herself in her big sister's room, Anna sat on Erin's bed crying her eyes out. The cries were not loud ones to gain attention but quiet, sorrowful ones that indicated how melancholic she'd become since her daddy told her off. Erin's room was nicer to cry in, as she had a big bed which the wain could shove her face into to sob even more. Every so often she would get up to look out of the window, spying on the progress that her Da and Granda were making with the shelter. She wanted to help them too but did not dare ask after being in trouble already that Sunday. The two men were making mistakes that she thought she could have corrected, though whether they would have listened to her was another matter.
As she was deep in thought, the door to Erin's room opened behind her, her Aunt Sarah poking her head through the gap. Sarah's quest to find Anna took her to Mary and Gerry's bedroom first before she went to Erin's, correctly guessing that the youngest Quinn would hide away in either of the rooms. Fresh from preventing the arguments between Joe and Gerry coming to a head, her sympathetic smile fell upon her niece.
"Ach, Anna love, why are ye cryin?"
Staring at her Aunt, Anna couldn't find the words to express how she felt. Despite being a smart little girl, her emotional senses were not fully developed so when it came to trying to tell people her feelings, it became too much of a challenge. They stayed with their eyes locked for another few seconds before the wain finally gave in, her limp trembling as her eyes filled with water. It might not have been her daughter, but Sarah's heart broke for her wee niece, who desperately needed someone to ease her emotional turmoil.
"I… I…".
Rushing forward, Anna ran into the open arms of her Aunt, who wrapped her up in a big hug. Holding on tightly, Sarah gently stroked little circles on her back as the girl wept into her side where her head came to rest. It reminded her of a time when Orla was much younger, when her daughter once ran to her crying after somebody at school said something nasty about her. The young Orla could be an incredibly sensitive girl, who was confused by nearly everything in her very early years. One of the other girls at school somehow learned some particular descriptions of people who would struggle to understand things, viciously labelling Orla with the names. The girls at school still did by the time she'd finished, but the insults eventually grew tiring without the previous effect of making her cry.
"Come on Anna… yer alright, yer Aunt Sarah's got ye".
Her whispered words of safety encouraged Anna to perk up a little. After another minute where the sobs gradually began to slow, she drew her head away from her Aunt's side, though kept her hand grasped within Sarah's. Leading her over to Erin's bed, Anna perched up on the edge first to indicate that she wanted to open up to her Aunt about her upset. Sarah took a seat next to her niece, stroking her thumb over Anna's hand where their fingers were still locked together.
"Now come on love, ye can talk to me". She reassured her little niece.
"I… I don't like all this not being able to have what we want to eat. I want me food!" She wailed. "And… and Mammy and Daddy don't understand!"
Moving her other hand into Anna's hair, Sarah tucked her back into her side. She wasn't liking the war very much either because of the effects on her life, so unlike Mary and Gerry, she was fully appreciative of Anna's upset. Getting her haircut was becoming all the more difficult, having to move on from the woman who used to cut her hair as she was unavailable most of the time. She needed expert and constant attention on hers, which meant having to find someone that could meet her needs whenever she determined those needs to be. A lack of funds was also a problem for her, though every spare penny she could salvage went on making herself look her best. With it being such a hassle though, it could sometimes bring the adult to tears because it did not make her look good at all. Sadly, she wasn't blessed with the eyebrows of Kathy Maguire either, so if her hair wasn't looking well, people would think she'd become an old frumpy spinster.
"I am not a fan of this war either love…". She explained softly. "… all these German fellas are really ruining my hair, so they are. And now they're ruinin' yer food! It's not right so it's not, but that's why our fellas are out there fightin' them, so they are".
"But our fellas are losin'". A dejected Anna fairly stated.
"Ach love I'm sure they'll win in the end… and I hope those German fellas are banned from having their haircut for years after this, because it's not on so it's not!"
It may have been one of the most ridiculous post-war reparations imaginable, but in Sarah's mind, the German fellas that would survive the war should be made to suffer when it came to their hair. Hers was so much of a mess that often, that they deserved their hair to be for at least ten times as long. Most people would look to significant financial or material compensation but for Sarah McCool the answer to the post war debt would be in hair suffrage. However, it was the first comment that afternoon that made little Anna laugh, which would be a relief to the rest of the household if nothing else.
"I miss James too, Aunt Sarah".
A quiet admittance fell from Anna's precious wee lips. The English Fella was the one person above anyone that she trusted, willing to part any secret to him in the knowledge that he would never say anything to anyone about her thoughts, not even Erin. Their conversations were a secret, a pact that James honoured just as much as he honoured his rank as an officer in the Fleet Air Arm. He was the person that she knew she would have turned to after the argument with her parents, with his rather muscular chest being a place where she could rest her head to bask in its safety. She was not as close to him as Erin was, but Anna's connection to the gallant young pilot was one that was stronger than most. In any bad dreams she would have about monsters, James was the hero that would swoop in to save her and anyone else that was in trouble. The love that Erin held for him might have been different, but Anna still loved James in her own way. He was like the big brother that she didn't have.
"Aye and our Erin does too". Sarah replied. "He's a real nice fella, isn't he?"
"He is!" Anna confirmed with great exuberance.
"I wish I had myself a fella like James…".
Long buried emotions suddenly crept out from the prison within her chest. They should have stayed locked away forever, but thinking about how good a fella James was, the straw rather abruptly broke the camel's back. Without a fella for some time, it was years since she'd felt truly appreciated by a man other than her Da, Gerry, David or the English Fella. She'd never truly given up hope of finding herself a husband, but the longer it went on, the more the hope began to fade. Being quite an attractive woman at her age, it was not a lack of suitors that was the problem, but more the lack of the right personality. If only she was younger, and James was older…
"Why don't ye have a fella, Aunt Sarah?"
Anna asked an otherwise innocent question that she did not realise would cause her Aunt to cry. The roles were reversed as it was the four year old who was comforting her Aunt now, rather than it being the other way around. Crying about fellas was something that she thought was restricted to her teen years but as the water flowed down her cheeks, Sarah was reminded of the misery she'd fought hard to keep hidden from the family. Like Erin without James, the crux of her feelings came down to one simple emotional lack. She was lonely.
"I'm sorry…". Anna mumbled.
"No…". Sarah almost scraped the tears from her face. "… no ye've done nothin' wrong, so ye haven't Anna".
"I made ye cry…".
"Ach no, I made myself cry. The reason I don't have a fella… I suppose it's because I'm lookin' for the right one and the right one hasn't come along yet".
The two found themselves snuggling together after a few minutes, Sarah laying back on Erin's bed to drift off to sleep with Anna curled up against her. That was how Mary found them half an hour later, the tears dried on their cheeks. She would have to thank her sister when she woke up, as there was a tiny smile on Anna's face as she snored peacefully. Whatever caused the tears could be discussed another time when it came to Sarah. Mary cared deeply for her sister, ensuring that she wouldn't forget to ask her when a more convenient time came along.
Not that there were any convenient times in the middle of a war.
The postman would never usually turn up on a Sunday. In fact, the postman would never normally work on a Sunday. Sundays were not a day where post was delivered, the bulk of it waiting to be delivered on the Monday if there was a build-up. Yet that Sunday there was post that arrived for Orla and for Erin. On another day they might have questioned it, but when they both knew what they would be receiving in the post, it didn't really matter.
When Orla received her letter next door, she marched straight around to the Quinn house to find Erin waiting for her in the living room, the cousins wanting to open the letters together to hear what James and David had to say respectively. Having encouraged her husband to return to James' side, Orla was anxious to find out that he was safe and enjoying being back in service to Britain. He'd made it no secret that whilst serving came with its hardships, he believed himself to be a better man for it. After the last letter from the Englishman, it was clear that he needed some company. Having seen Erin so broken hearted about James' motivation waning, Orla wanted David to go back too, keeping the young pilot's spirits up. She knew that she could survive without David until the war was over, as her own network of support within the family would stand her in good stead in his absence. When he returned, the Germans defeated, that would be when they could be a family again.
She began to read David's letter, a wide grin slapped across her face.
My Dear Orla,
Putting pen to paper again to write to you feels incredibly strange. After I came home, it seemed like this would be a thing of the past, paper no longer being needed for us to talk to each other. Then again, this is a strange time with what has been going on, so I suppose I should have really expected the unexpected. I would add before I properly get started, that my journey back to England was as smooth as I said it would be. Once all of this is over, the two of us should get James to fly us over to England, Erin too. We could have a brilliant day with just the four of us enjoying the skies. Thoughts like that are what makes me want to get this fighting won!
There are so many things which I wish I could tell you, but I know that I cannot. From the moment that I got back to our base, I've been working harder than I have ever worked before. I guess you could say that when I left England, we were still in a war that was yet to start but since I've come back, I can tell the difference. Everything we do is now done at such speed that trying to get a breather is basically impossible. James does his best to try to get us a rest, but he can only do so much. I have to thank him for getting the time to write this to you as there is so much going on around the base at the moment that I didn't think it would be possible.
To start off with, I was straight back into combat after about five minutes of being back at the base. James and I went on a wee little flight over to France. You'll know from the radio what we were doing and ye know, I think we made a real difference with what we did. Those poor lads down on the beaches cheered us on when we flew overhead, heading off on our own for the attack we needed to do. Their motivation really spurred us on because when we got to the location of our targets, the two of us went into this sort of… well, trance I suppose you'd have to call it. We were facing up against some German lads in their tanks and they tried to shoot us out of the sky, so they did! If I was flying with anyone else, then I wouldn't be writing this letter but when James takes the controls of an aircraft then it is different. Those German fellas had their chance and failed. We took ours when we got closer. I don't like to talk about… ye know… but we got plenty of them, so we did. I can't have too much sympathy for them because they were prepared to gun down our men. We were just doing our job.
I am trying to write this to you as if I sent it the same morning, but all this actually happened yesterday as I write to you. The mail being as slow as I suspect it is, you probably won't see this until Monday at the earliest but for me, it is actually Friday. This morning, me and James went on a little adventure of our own out to London for some official business. London's a scary place, Orls. I know you've said before that you would love to go to London one day, but if you are planning on it then can you try to find someone else to go with? There are houses for miles around, from little tin ones to the massive Government buildings. I thought Derry was a big place but London's like if Derry got pregnant and gave birth to two Belfast sized twins. I know you'll find that funny! I am being serious though love, it is such a terrifying place because of how big it is. We did get to meet some people while we there, which was nice I guess but it was a relief when I got back into the car to return to base.
There is something that I do need to tell you though. I never thought in my wildest dreams that only a couple of days after returning that it would happen, but these really are strange times.
I have been promoted!
I am Leading Airman, David Donnelly now!
I don't know how James managed to get me the promotion, but I gave him the biggest hug that I could when we found a second alone this evening. You know he can pull off a few miracles, but this was a miracle that I think even Jesus would be proud of. Whether I have done enough to actually earn it, I don't know, but it feels a lot better to know that my efforts are being recognised. My standing amongst the men is only ever increasing as well, as they were all congratulating me before I started writing this letter to you. There isn't a lot that it changes when it comes to what I do but it tells those outside of our squadron that I'm not just an ordinary crewman. I do have to make sure that I set an example to some of the others now though. Then again, when I look to James for an example, I can hardly go wrong, can I?
You and Marie are always in my thoughts, love. It has only been a couple of days, but I miss the two of you so much already. I thought I might regret leaving you to join up again, especially with the way that the fighting has picked up since I came back home. As much as I do want to be back with the two of you though, I think we both know that I am in the right place. Someone needs to keep an eye on James whilst he keeps an eye on the rest of country anyway. As his best friend, the job falls to me. Like how it was when I was here before, knowing that you and Marie are there for me when I get home at the end of all this makes me fight even harder. I hope Marie isn't missing Daddy too much, but if she is, ye can tell her that I love her lots and when I got home, she will be getting as much love from me as she wants.
The same goes for you too Orls. When I come back to you, you'll have my full attention for however long you want it.
However, I am going to have to go. I can hear footsteps which I recognise, which means James must be about to order me to do something. I hope it isn't cleaning the toilets because I remember the one time that he asked me to do that in January, I was ready to throttle him afterwards. I probably shouldn't be saying that about an officer but its James so I think he wouldn't mind so much.
I love you Orls.
I love you a lot.
Your David.
Next to her, her cousin began to read the letter that James had written. In his exquisite handwriting as normal… not the only thing about him that was exquisite to her… Erin softened. If she believed hard enough, she could convince herself that she could smell him from the paper on the letter. The unique brand of James that invaded her nostrils so pleasantly.
Dear Erin,
Here I am again, writing to you during some of the only spare time that I have left on the evening I write this. I have experienced some of the most exhilarating days of my life over the past few days and I believe I am the better man for it.
Before all of that, I want to talk about you. I think of you, as you know I always do, and wish that you are well. I can only imagine with the newfound intensity of the conflict, that your work has taken on an equally more intense day to day speed. You do me so proud by getting up every day to go to work. I would always be proud of you regardless because I love you so much but being able to wake up everyday knowing that you are doing your bit as much as I do mine is inspiring for me. I know that my last letter was perhaps a little on the melancholic side and I wish to apologise for it. Trying to navigate my way through life without either you or David at my side saw me look for a chasm to be filled, one which I selfishly shifted to you by writing down my thoughts. Please accept my apology for causing you such upset. It was not my intention in the slightest. I would hope that you know I would never do anything to hurt you, physically or mentally.
You will be aware by know about what is happening in France. I have been able to see it with my own eyes from above the beaches myself. Our duty to Britain has never been so crucial in order to get our boys home. The timing of David's return was fortuitous as to be able to help those who serve with us, I needed him, so I have to thank Orla for sending him back. Please pass on my thanks! For what we did yesterday, I believe that we have made a significant contribution in helping to get the men back as safely as possible. We did all that could ever have been asked of us really; we found our targets and completed our mission successfully. I know I wrote openly about feeling empty, for want of a better word, when I was involved in the battle over the North Sea, but that same emptiness did not strike me this time. The German intentions are ones which invalidate their path to my emotions now that I have seen their full machinations.
There is one thing that has happened though, for which I must tell you. I can scarcely believe it even writing the title onto this piece of paper now, but I have pinched myself enough times today to realise that it is not a dream nor a nightmare.
I have received a promotion.
Lieutenant Commander James Maguire.
If you are lost in the military implication of that, it now means that the squadron I serve in, is now my squadron. I am in command now, answering only to those in higher office rather than another officer within the group. The last thing I expected when I woke up this very morning was to find myself as the commander of the squadron by the end of it but that is the way life appears to go during these unsettled times. This changes a lot for me. Erin, I am now solely responsible for the safety of not just David but of every man in this squadron. Whether that is a benefit or not remains to be seen, but in many ways, it will be a test for me which I will need for when I come home. They might be grown men, yet they still may need to be cared for like babies and I would hope that I find myself in the need of practice for a day in the future with you. When you are ready, of course.
There is also the matter of money. The rise in rank from Lieutenant to Lieutenant Commander brings about a substantial pay rise. My money is yours, as you know, so please take what you and the rest of the family need to be able to live on. I will not see you all without what you need due to a lack of financial resource, when I have plenty. On the subject of family, please pass on my regards to everyone. Unfortunately, I do not have the time to be able to write a letter to my Aunt again, but sacrifices are always having to be made, as you know. I was thinking about Anna the other day, coming up with some stories that I can tell her when I come home which I think she will enjoy!
My love, I must wrap this letter up shortly. I need to go and speak with David, though the thought has crossed my mind that as the commanding officer of the squadron, I could order him to clean the toilets for a practical joke. I might do or perhaps I might not. Before I do finish though, I must be honest with you and tell you that I do not know when my next letter will be. I cannot tell you much as I am sure you will understand, but we are being transferred to an aircraft carrier in the next few days, finally ready for our days at sea where our duty will be undertaken. There will be many adventures ahead in the days to come, of that, I am sure. In my next letter, whenever it may be, I shall recount them to you as I think of looking into your beautiful eyes to tell you that I love you.
I do love you.
A lot.
Your James.
"He's been promoted!"
The cousins spoke in unison as they finished their letters at exactly the same time. The two of them broke off into giggles, hugging each other tightly to revel in the knowledge that their fellas were doing them proud, keeping them safe from the threat of the Nazi's. Orla looked down at Marie, who was sleeping on a little blanket they'd put down on the floor next to them. Looking as peaceful as she did, Orla's mind was filled with images of her and David being either side of her, tickling her little tummy whilst their daughter laughed. Those days would be to come in the future though, a future where David would be free from the duty he knew he must complete.
There were too many emotions that flooded through Erin, some positive, others… others she would not dwell on. The most important news was that her James received the recognition that she knew he did deserve. Charlene was able to give her more information on what James and David had done than they could themselves, agreeing with his sentiment that they'd made a huge contribution to the efforts of getting the men off of the beaches safely.
"They are our wee heroes, aren't they?" Orla softly fished for her cousin's agreement.
"They are Orla… they are…".
Erin was almost unable to reply, lost in the thoughts of her own wee hero. She wanted to kiss him so badly to tell him that she loved him, that the desire to do so was becoming unbearable. The day when they could be together again only ever seemed to become further away. He might not have mentioned it, but she could figure out for herself that James' transfer to a carrier would mean that there would be no leave in the foreseeable future. He would have to stay away still, waiting for the day that he could be relieved of his duty to return to her. Kisses and conversations that needed to be held, burning questions that required pulling from deep within the pair of them.
Everything would have to wait though, for she'd unlucky chosen Britain's most prized asset to give her heart to.
Not that she would ever regret it.
An afternoon that didn't draw blood or tears, but did draw plenty of sweat, saw Joe and Gerry work incredibly hard as a pair. The air might have been thicker again with the news of Anna still being upset passed onto them, but it was put aside for their growling stomachs. After the inner panels were complete, the two managed to get the rear wall and the door fitted, though not without Joe expressing his opinion that Gerry's efforts were dropping as they put the final pieces into place. In reality, he was very much on his last legs, desperately needing the sustenance that his wife was still adamant on denying him and Joe until the job was done.
Having finished the inside, the two of them stood proudly over their creation. The Anderson shelter wasn't the hardest little shelter to construct, but it still did come with challenges. Having gone inside, the two of them realised that on the coldest nights in winter then the Anderson would be absolutely Baltic. It may have been designed to protect against bombs, but in doing so, there was very little protection from the temperature. To Joe, it only provided more evidence that his idea that they should share one as a family was the more pertinent one, despite the shelter only really being designed to hold six. Instead, it would have to include eight and the wee dog. Napoleon himself put in an appearance as they were finishing the job off, although he was quickly shooed away when he starting to cock his leg close to Joe, the older man nearly finding himself covered in dog piss to end the testing day.
"We've done a grand job there Joe".
Trying to sound as cheerful as he dared to be around his Father in-law, Gerry glanced over to see if he was sharing the same enthusiasm. Joe being Joe, he was not.
"We… We! Ye know, without me helpin' ye, you'd never have got that done. Yer so feckin' useless ye know, Gerry".
"Hence why I said we…".
Speaking back to Joe on not the first occasion that day, Gerry's usual control of his inner emotions was seemingly not present. The lack of nutrition could be blamed, as at the end of a tiring day's work, he was starving, his usual tolerance for Joe's comments wavering with every grumble from his belly.
"You talkin' back to me, boy?"
"I'm not a boy Joe…". He huffed. "… I have been married to Mary for twenty years! I was a boy then, I'll grant ye, but I'm not a boy now".
"Ye see this shovel…".
The arguments were about to start again as Gerry looked down to see the gardening tool, which was converted into a weapon in Joe's eyes. He had a fair idea where it was going too.
"If I hit you hard enough…".
"DA!"
Mary's shout stopped her father from doing what he thought he should have done some years before, finally making her happy again. Though beating Gerry to death with a shovel would have had the opposite effect, not that he would accept that it would. She'd been watching ever since the two were stood side by side looking on at the shelter. Her decision to not feed either of them before they finished appeared to have been vindicated as they'd gone about it in double time, but it would all be undone if Joe decided to smack Gerry with the shovel.
"Ye leave Gerry alone, ye hear!" She reprimanded him.
"I'll do what I like, love". Joe reared up in anger. "If I think this Southern arsehole that you call husband needs hittin' with the shovel, then I'll be hittin' him with the shovel!"
"If you hit Gerry with that shovel, then I'll smack you with the spoon!"
The course of the argument changed, now being a battle between father and daughter. In normal circumstances, Gerry would have turned peacemaker himself, but he didn't think it was a good idea to do so. Mary was not going to back off, determined to make her father see that he was wrong to threaten Gerry after the hard work he'd put it in to get the shelter up. It would be Joe who would have to back off.
"Fine! But I've earned myself somethin' to eat, so I have, so where is it?"
Being snappy with her wasn't going to help his cause at all. Gerry winced at the comment, praying that Mary wouldn't completely blow her top at her Da. Huffing out her anger, Mary decided to be as diplomatic as she could be to avoid the words that her husband assumed would come.
"Ye can have something Da, but ye know, ye can't have a big portion…".
"What!?" He shouted back at her.
"Don't ye what me, Da! Yer lucky I have Marguerite Patten on the radio, so ye are, because without her recipes, you'd be permanently starvin'!"
Shaking his head, Joe eventually began to simmer. There was no point shouting back at Mary because the argument was lost. He would have to put his pride aside and accept whatever she was going to put onto the table as a meal. Gerry was prepared to do the same, thankful that he could finally sit down to eat something, even if it wasn't as much as it normally would be.
"Do ye not think the shelter's still a wee bit small, Joe?"
Contributing the most unwise comment of the day so far, Gerry dragged up a subject that should have stayed buried. Mary glared at him, aware of what her Da was going to say in return before he'd even said it. At what point Gerry decided that it was a brilliant idea to mention the space problem inside the shelter, she did not know.
"Do ye really want this shovel down yer throat, Gerry!"
"Da, please!"
"No Mary, I know his game!" Joe snarled. "He wants us to build a shelter so a bomb will drop on it and kill the rest of us! These Free state feckers cannot be trusted, how many times do I have to say it!"
Sighing, Gerry conceded that he'd be unwise to mention the topic again, consequently shutting his mouth to allow Joe the victory he wanted. The two soon returned inside, being forced to clean themselves up before being allowed to sit down at the table to eat. Ravenous once they'd finally sat down to eat, they didn't say anything to each other, an act that benefitted the rest of the house immensely. Anna returned to her parents to cuddle them later on, Gerry giving his youngest an extended hug in part ways as an apology. Though he wanted to let her know she'd done wrong, his intention was never to make her cry.
The rest of the evening went by smoothly, the family rejoicing in James and David's promotions, Erin and Orla beaming with pride.
As strong as ever, the family would always be there to look out for each other.
A couple of days later…
Sat in the harbour, outside the naval base at Devonport, the HMS Illustrious was beginning to load her precious aerial cargo. The 806, 815 and 819 squadrons would be the few men that would start their new life at sea, after time at home to train in their aircraft. They would be working up around the area for a couple of weeks, before heading out to the Mediterranean to perform their service to the country. 815 and 819 provided the Swordfish for the carrier whilst 806 squadron flew either Fulmar's or the Skua dive bomber. An intriguing collection of aircraft, the Fleet Air Arm were preparing to send one of their new carriers right into what they believed would be the thick of it in the Med. The Italians were still yet to chance their hand and enter the war, but intelligence reports were indicating that they were prepared to dart over the French border to seize land in the south of France before their allies in Germany could get to it.
The Illustrious herself was seven hundred and forty feet long. At over twenty three thousand tons, the ship was an attractive target to any bombers, though carrying bombers of her own, the Illustrious could fight back against any air raiders. With a landing deck, the space for a big gun to fire at other ships was lost however there were eight twin four and half inch dual-purpose guns to attempt to compensate for it in some way. There were six pom pom guns that acted as Anti-Aircraft batteries as well, all of the guns being manned by the Royal Navy personnel assigned to the carrier. Due to the nature of the waters that they would be assigned to, the aircraft on board would need protection from the constant threat of land-based bombers striking them, a reinforced hangar required on the hangar deck that was located beneath the flight deck. The Illustrious also carried the distinction of being the first aircraft carrier in the world to be fitted with a radar system before completion. Had completion not been delayed, then the carrier would have been ready two months earlier, but the advantage gained from having the early warning radar system was immense. It would allow the ship's crew to prepare for any type of enemy that would approach, also giving warning to the air crews who could enter the fray as well.
Waiting patiently in the harbour, the Illustrious' crew were all aboard. There were over one thousand sailors that served on board, as well as the one hundred or so airmen that they shared the carrier with. Despite the additional weight of the reinforced hangar, the ship could get up to thirty knots, making her fairly quick too. Her main asset though was her aircraft. The Swordfish especially, were the pride of the Fleet Air Arm despite being perhaps the most obsolete aircraft in service. The combination of the modern carrier and the ancient biplane may have been a strange one for many, but they complimented each other. The Illustrious gave the Stringbags a safe and stable home base to operate from and in turn they gave the aircraft carrier the protect with their adaptability. Crucially, the folding wings meant the hangar space could be utilised to the absolute maximum.
Before the carrier could set sail though, those same aircraft needed to be loaded into storage on the hangar deck. 806 and 819 squadrons both arrived on the Monday, not having their full operational strength to be placed onboard. Some of the aircraft would stay at home to participate in the defence of the mainland as opposed to the full contingent that arrived from the 815. With the other two squadrons pre-loaded on the Monday evening, James flew his men in formation to the Devonport base, arriving at around ten o'clock on Tuesday. After meeting with the senior officers of both the Air Arm and Navy, the men began going onboard in the early afternoon to assist their colleagues in the Navy with getting the aircraft onto first the flight deck, then down to hangar deck. Using an onshore crane, the Swordfish were lifted onto the flight deck, where the wings were then folded by the men, before being lifted down to the hangar deck. Overseeing the whole process was the Lieutenant Commander himself, stood harbour side whilst each Swordfish was manoeuvred into position, helping the crane operator to get the aircraft onto the carrier safely.
The final Swordfish to make it onto the carrier was James' own. He stood watching the men fold the wings, making sure that they were treating his aircraft properly, not that he didn't trust his own men. It was the Navy personnel that he was yet to fully trust, having only met the men that they would be going to sea with just a couple of hours before. His own men were delighted to have him as their commanding officer. Returning from the tense but rewarding meeting at Admiralty House, they were greeted with cheers as Lieutenant Barnes was told in advance of their return, telling the men to be ready. He was the only officer left at Worthy Down when they did get back. Borrett left just a few minutes after they did that morning, dismayed that he was the one having to transfer squadrons. However, challenging the decision was futile when he was met with the fury of those who held senior rank to him. They were understanding of his decision to report James but as he often thought, the unique nature of the young man meant that the normal protocol was not followed.
When he informed his two junior Lieutenants, the Welshman Allen made it clear he refused to serve under James. High command allowed him to transfer with Borrett too, leaving Junior Lieutenant Barnes in charge until James returned, having made it clear that he did wish to serve under the young commander. Barnes was a man of few words, but he at least owed James a favour after setting him up with the ravishing Miss Hartley. They were quickly besotted with each other and he'd left her that morning with a heavy heart before flying off to Devon. A mutual respect for one and other, James decided to return the faith that Barnes placed in him by promoting him to be his second in command, leaving two vacancies to be filled. The vacancies were filled internally, Junior Lieutenant's Lamb and Murray being instated. This also meant receiving two new pilots, though the men were transferred from another squadron who were being broken up after receiving terrible losses over France, no time needing to be wasted on training them.
Commanding officer of the whole Fleet Air Arm contingent, the only man that James answered to on the whole ship was the Captain. Having met him earlier on that day for the first time, the two shook hands and exchanged pleasantries, quickly falling into an easy conversation. Though the Captain couldn't take direct action against James, James in turn couldn't overrule any decision that he made in terms of the ship's safety or if the Captain did not deem it safe to launch the aircraft. The Captain was aboard the ship, in preparation for them to set sail into the Channel that evening to assume their position for night exercises once the necessary checks were complete. The men would be allowed a few hours' sleep before eleven o'clock, where they would then be woken for the training at midnight. Over the couple of weeks that would follow, the plan was to get accustomed to landing on the deck in the day or at night, in calm or rough seas. It would be a steep learning curve for most of them, apart from those who were part of the remaining contingent that survived the sinking of the HMS Courageous, those men already having received their training a year or more earlier.
As his aircraft was lowered down to the hangar deck, James proceeded to finally take his eye off of the carrier, pulling something out of his pocket instead. During a quiet moment, he liked to remind himself of home, more specifically the beautiful young woman that he loved. Gazing upon Erin's photo still would bring the odd tear to his eye, longing as he always was to be back with her. Excited as he was to be able to mobilise into active service at sea with his squadron, a part of him was saddened that he did not have the time for leave. If they were not embarking so suddenly, the date of departure being Friday not Tuesday, then he would have put in a request for leave for himself and David, just for a day. A couple of hours was all that he would need with Erin, to be able to ask her the question of just how she wanted to spend the rest of her life. The bonds of matrimony would have to wait though, as his country cried out louder for him than Erin did. A country that did not know of the young woman who would wake up sobbing profusely some mornings because he was not there.
"She's a beauty, isn't she?"
The voice came from over his shoulder. Knowing exactly who it belonged to, he turned his head to find David standing to his right. His orders were for the men to stay onboard, but David disobeyed them when he saw that James' aircraft was on its final approach to the hangar deck. He'd disembarked to James' right, completely unnoticed by the Lieutenant Commander who was too busy staring at the photograph of Erin leaning back into him in the Quinn's garden.
"That's very nice of you to compliment Erin". He chuckled.
"I meant the ship, James".
Rolling his eyes, James' chuckle turned into a full bout of laughter. David joined in with him too, the pair of them acting more as friends that Lieutenant Commander and Leading Airman. Although he would always maintain that he would not discipline David any differently should the need arise to, the men were all very much aware of their friendship, none of them questioning it when the two would talk to each other frequently. James was not reliant on David's input, nor did he need him to act as a conduit between the men, who were all free to come to him whenever they wished. However, his opinion would always be respected more than any other man's, which allowed for David to make beneficial suggestions on behalf of the crews. The vital element to the squadron's functionality in combat, to James, was that every man would better themselves whilst performing their service and doing so with smiles on their faces as much as possible.
"Our new home, eh?" David commented. "Quite fitting for you, isn't it?"
"What do you mean?" He questioned, turning once more with an eyebrow raised.
David turned to reply.
"Illustrious. Ye know, you and yer reputation as, I quote, 'The finest pilot in Britain'."
"I hope that is not the work of your scurrilous rumours that seem to be passed around the cabin like an awful case of the flu?"
There was no denying that the source of James' praise was his best friend. The men of the 815 squadron were already more than aware of the brilliance of their commanding officer but sharing the duties onboard with two other squadrons, their men needed to know just how good the officer was. Of course, David made sure to spruce up the stories with a few additional details of questionable validity. They certainly weren't pursued by two ME 109's whilst conducting their bombing run on the Panzers as David described it.
"Sir, I could not possibly know what ye are talking about…".
"Leading Airman Donnelly, I think I will have to re-read some of the manual on the sentence for the charge I am going to put you on". He scoffed theatrically.
"What charge would that be, Lieutenant Commander Maguire, Sir". David responded in his posher voice.
"Being a prat".
Looking into each other eyes, wide grins and eventual giggles overcame the both of them. Being a prat was an offence that James didn't mind, especially when it came from David, because it always raised his spirits. They were not particularly low that early evening, but the bar could always be lifted higher.
"We Illustrious Few…". James' voice trailed off as he stared at the landing deck where he would be spending the following months departing from on a daily basis.
"That sounds like the name Erin would give to a poem". David snorted. "Don't be goin' and givin' her ideas though, the less poetry the better!"
"Not this a… Erin's poetry is wonderful, thank you. I still cannot understand why you would think it is terrible".
"Me and every other human being in the world, actually".
Before James could come to his partner's aid, the Illustrious' Captain, Captain Boyd, appeared on the ramp, shouting down to the two men.
"Lieutenant Commander Maguire, you need to come aboard. We are nearly ready to depart!".
"Thank you Captain!" James shouted back.
Taking a look at David, he extended his arm out in the direction of the ramp, allowing David the courtesy of being able to board first. Quickly checking, he did not see any of his other men having followed David's disobedient example, so was contented to follow on behind his best friend, their adventures across the seas about to begin.
"After you". He said to David.
"Thank you… Sir". He replied, James rolling his eyes behind him as he did. "Ye know James, I have just thought about something".
"If it is a change of mind on my Erin's lovely poetry, then I would love to hear it".
"Ha! Ye'll have to get up earlier than that ye crafty wee limey. No, I was just thinking, I am not looking forward to my next letter home".
As they reached the top of the ramp, setting foot on the Illustrious once more, James wondered why he would not. It was a highlight of David's day on the nights that he could put pen to paper to write home to Orla, to enquire about Marie's development without her daddy.
"Why not?" He asked, curious to find out the reason.
"Because I might have to explain what the poop deck is and… well, ye know my Orls, it'll be tough to convince her that it isn't what it sounds like".
David was certainly right in that regard, everything making sense to James once his friend told him. Erin would probably have a difficult time of understanding it too, but Orla would indeed be a different kettle of fish to most.
Once they were aboard, David headed off to his cabin to get some sleep, whilst James joined the Captain on the bridge to oversee their departure, before heading down below to get some sleep himself.
As the HMS Illustrious left Devonport, a new horizon of adventure and possibility dawned for James and David. Possibilities of honour and glory lay ahead of them, a war to win in whatever way that they could win it, young women to go home to and love.
The problem with honour, glory and even more so, love, was that the shadow of death always lingered close by.
Close by…
The radio went on for the news at ten o'clock that evening. Sarah dragged Joe with her from next door, Orla and Marie avoiding having to come round as they were both fast asleep. Anna was fast asleep too, which left her parents and big sister to gather around it with the two visitors. It would be a nightly occurrence that the radio would go on at some point, to listen to the latest news on how the war was progressing, all of them knowing that the truth was not being told completely. The desperation of the Dunkirk withdrawal had already spread too far for the Government to feasibly continue with their line of mistruth, but continue they did.
The morale of the public was dropping every day, as it became clear that to stop the Nazi threat, it was going to need more than just Britain to fight back. France tried and failed to be of significant use and with Russia and Italy both allied to the Germans as well as Spain being neutral, it left them looking the other way for support. America would not intervene though, as the public over the other side of the Atlantic did not want to drag another generation of their sons and daughters into a European war. Many were lost during the Great War when the apprentice came to the aid of its old master; a repeat was avoidable.
The Prime Minister was doing his best to keep the public's faith with the military, but even the endearing Churchill was swimming against the tide. A growing number of people from all walks of life were beginning to believe that the war would be lost, that either appeasement or invasion seemed likely. If the men couldn't hold the Germans in France, then how could they stop the Panzers rolling through the fields of Kent?
Churchill's latest speech, snippets of which were broadcast on the radio that night, told the story perfectly.
"Even though large tracts of Europe and many old and famous States have fallen or may fall into the grip of the Gestapo and all the odious apparatus of Nazi rule, we shall not flag or fail. We shall go on to the end… we shall fight in France, we shall fight on the seas and oceans, we shall fight with growing confidence and growing strength in the air, we shall defend our Island, whatever the cost may be, 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!
Large tracts of Europe was quite the understatement. Britain's only real ally on the continent yet to be invaded was Portugal, who were remaining neutral rather than coming to their ally's aide. It was understandable that they did not wish to be dragged into the conflict, especially upon seeing how a far larger nation such as France could be dismantled so easily. Churchill mentioning every possible battleground from the fields to the streets, was the subtle indication that many took to mean that the Germans would soon be upon them. Despite the neutrality of the Free state around them, up in Derry, they would not escape the clutches of the Germans. Holding hands with her mother, Erin sighed deeply at the news that never picked up. Still, the country did have her James to fight the Nazi's off and they would have to go through him and David before they could truly claim the Kingdom for their own.
The Expeditionary force fought like lions, lions that were for once not led by morons like the British Army had often found itself throughout history.
Yet, as the Prime Minister confirmed, their backs were against the wall.
With France all but out of the picture, the mighty Nazi Empire of Germany were now the lion tamers of Europe, preparing to use the strength of their Luftwaffe Air force as the whip that would bring the British to the table.
What General Weygand called the Battle of France was over.
The Battle of Britain was about to begin.