Flora reached out and took one of her hands. ‘Is this the real war then, Fred?’
She was answered by the sound of an explosion, and she burst into tears. Fred stopped glaring at his daughter and turned to comforting his wife. ‘There, love, don’t hear no more planes. Blighters have gone over. Be battering London by now.’
‘But it’s broad daylight, Dad. There’s people out shopping, children playing in the parks. It’s inhuman, that’s what it is.’
‘It’s war, Daisy.’ He was quiet for a moment and then voiced all their thoughts. ‘Rose’ll be all right; they have a big shelter at Vickers.’
No one spoke until the all clear sounded. They sat, each alone with his or her worries, but their hopes and prayers were for the same family members.
‘I never locked the door, Dad, but I don’t think it would have made much difference.’
They discovered that the front door of the shop had been blown off its hinges and several windows were smashed. The barrel of barley lay on its side and what was left of the barley was scattered, with everything that had been on the shelves, all over the floor.
‘Hope you got a lot of that barley packaged, our Daisy,’ said Fred with an attempt at a smile. ‘No, never mind the brush now, pet, George’ll do it. He likes things tidy. How about making a pot of tea? In fact, if the Christmas sherry bottle is whole, we’ll all have a snifter. Your mum’s shaking like a blancmange.’
He handed her an unopened bottle of brandy that he unearthed from under the counter.
‘First-aid manual, Daisy, love. Brandy for emergencies and this is one stinker of an emergency. You go on up with your mum. Make her sip some of that, even if it makes her cough, and just talk to her while I have a look outside. The joiner’ll be busy so I’d best get to him quick as.’
Daisy was only too happy to return to the family flat. The last thing in the world she wanted to do was look outside. Bullets had rained down on the street. What if someone had been walking there?
But Dartford was not too badly damaged on that first raid. Chimney pots, doors windows, garden walls, bicycles had all suffered, but there were no major casualties.
Fred, for the moment unsure whether or not he should have sought shelter or gone out into the fray – after all, he was an ARP warden – left his daughter to begin the clean-up once he was sure that Flora was fine. He picked up his respirator, although for the life of him he could not smell gas. The unpleasant smell of burning accompanied him as he headed off through the smoke-filled streets to the ARP station. What could he say? He had acted on instinct and he hoped that his instincts were right.
‘You’re only expected to patrol when you’re on duty, Fred, and this afternoon wasn’t your hours. We got off light but this shows the way it’s going. We’re right between Herr blooming Hitler in Germany and Mr Churchill in London, and the German Air Force’ll fly over us every time they want to take a poke at him.’
‘Then likely we’ll be ’it on their way back too.’
‘Afraid so, Fred. Lots to look forward to, I don’t think. How’s the missus? Any word on your lads?’
‘There’s a war on, Harold. They got more to do than write letters. Flora’s fine, a real brick, and Daisy and Rose is a great support.’
‘Daisy not left the nest yet?’
‘No, she knows what she wants; biding her time, I’d say. I’d best get off home. Got next week’s pulses all over the place. Where I’m going to get more at such short notice, I do not know. At least the weather’s fine and the ladies isn’t making thick soups.’
The men said goodbye and Fred, his uneasiness at rest, hurried off home, via the home of the nearest joiner, and was delighted to meet Rose on the way. She looked rather shaken but made no complaint.
‘Going in for an extra shift, Dad. We are really increasing production.’ She stopped suddenly right in the middle of the High
She was answered by the sound of an explosion, and she burst into tears. Fred stopped glaring at his daughter and turned to comforting his wife. ‘There, love, don’t hear no more planes. Blighters have gone over. Be battering London by now.’
‘But it’s broad daylight, Dad. There’s people out shopping, children playing in the parks. It’s inhuman, that’s what it is.’
‘It’s war, Daisy.’ He was quiet for a moment and then voiced all their thoughts. ‘Rose’ll be all right; they have a big shelter at Vickers.’
No one spoke until the all clear sounded. They sat, each alone with his or her worries, but their hopes and prayers were for the same family members.
‘I never locked the door, Dad, but I don’t think it would have made much difference.’
They discovered that the front door of the shop had been blown off its hinges and several windows were smashed. The barrel of barley lay on its side and what was left of the barley was scattered, with everything that had been on the shelves, all over the floor.
‘Hope you got a lot of that barley packaged, our Daisy,’ said Fred with an attempt at a smile. ‘No, never mind the brush now, pet, George’ll do it. He likes things tidy. How about making a pot of tea? In fact, if the Christmas sherry bottle is whole, we’ll all have a snifter. Your mum’s shaking like a blancmange.’
He handed her an unopened bottle of brandy that he unearthed from under the counter.
‘First-aid manual, Daisy, love. Brandy for emergencies and this is one stinker of an emergency. You go on up with your mum. Make her sip some of that, even if it makes her cough, and just talk to her while I have a look outside. The joiner’ll be busy so I’d best get to him quick as.’
Daisy was only too happy to return to the family flat. The last thing in the world she wanted to do was look outside. Bullets had rained down on the street. What if someone had been walking there?
But Dartford was not too badly damaged on that first raid. Chimney pots, doors windows, garden walls, bicycles had all suffered, but there were no major casualties.
Fred, for the moment unsure whether or not he should have sought shelter or gone out into the fray – after all, he was an ARP warden – left his daughter to begin the clean-up once he was sure that Flora was fine. He picked up his respirator, although for the life of him he could not smell gas. The unpleasant smell of burning accompanied him as he headed off through the smoke-filled streets to the ARP station. What could he say? He had acted on instinct and he hoped that his instincts were right.
‘You’re only expected to patrol when you’re on duty, Fred, and this afternoon wasn’t your hours. We got off light but this shows the way it’s going. We’re right between Herr blooming Hitler in Germany and Mr Churchill in London, and the German Air Force’ll fly over us every time they want to take a poke at him.’
‘Then likely we’ll be ’it on their way back too.’
‘Afraid so, Fred. Lots to look forward to, I don’t think. How’s the missus? Any word on your lads?’
‘There’s a war on, Harold. They got more to do than write letters. Flora’s fine, a real brick, and Daisy and Rose is a great support.’
‘Daisy not left the nest yet?’
‘No, she knows what she wants; biding her time, I’d say. I’d best get off home. Got next week’s pulses all over the place. Where I’m going to get more at such short notice, I do not know. At least the weather’s fine and the ladies isn’t making thick soups.’
The men said goodbye and Fred, his uneasiness at rest, hurried off home, via the home of the nearest joiner, and was delighted to meet Rose on the way. She looked rather shaken but made no complaint.
‘Going in for an extra shift, Dad. We are really increasing production.’ She stopped suddenly right in the middle of the High
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