The first night was long and fraught with danger. We were constantly on our guard but despite that, came perilously close to getting caught...

We Shall Fight On The Beaches...

Chapter 3

By Susan Brown

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Previously...

I was proud of the girls as, as promised, no one laughed at our new girl–Helen.

It was dark outside when we were finally ready to go. We all had a small case and a bag each to carry. We had our coats on as it was chilly. It was with a bit of regret that we left the kitchen, still warm from the heat of the Aga and made our way out of the school and out onto the street.

We didn’t know how long it would take us to get where we hoped to go, or even if we did find our destination–Cornwall was a long way away and even I had my doubts about if we could get there, but we were determined to do our best to get ourselves out of London and start doing something more than just hiding away and doing nothing.

Looking up, the sky was clear and there was no moon. I could see the millions of pin pricks that were the stars. I wondered if my parents and sister were looking down on me and looking out for us. I hoped so as we were going to need all the help we could get!

And now the story continues…

The first night was long and fraught with danger. We were constantly on our guard but despite that, came perilously close to getting caught.

Our idea about keeping to the side roads was a good one, but we didn’t realise that there were so many Germans about. Even the smaller roads seemed to have a number of the hated enemy milling around. At times we had to hide in gardens and behind walls as patrols either on foot or in vehicles passed us by.

It didn’t help that the night was cold and frosty and we were hardly well dressed for the occasion. We had set off from the school fully hoping that we would put a lot of miles behind us during the safer, darker hours.

The problem was that we had to keep stopping and then do complicated detours to avoid road blocks and the ever present soldiers. There was a curfew on and notices were pinned to many trees and street lamps telling people that they would be summarily shot if caught out at night without a permit or a good reason.

Harrow Road was a no-no as there were patrols everywhere. We eventually went down Scrubs Lane which was quieter and not so crowded with soldiers. After twenty minutes we went over the railway bridge and there in the distance, on the far side of the common, stood the prison known as Wormwood Scrubs.

‘Shall we go across the common or keep to the roads?’ said Ethel.

‘Less likely to get caught if we go across country,’ I said.

‘As long as we don’t break a leg,’ said Glad pessimistically.

‘Don’t be such a wimp, Glad,’ said Ethel.

I could see that the sisters didn’t always see eye to eye!

We decided by a show of hands that we would cross the common land. The less we were on the roads at that time, the better.

It was hard going as it was dark and the ground was uneven in places. Luckily, there were lights dotted about on the edges of The Scrubs with street lights and the occasional headlight piercing the darkness, so we couldn’t really get lost. As it was dark, we had decided to keep close to the edge of the common land rather than go through the middle where someone might break an ankle falling over or into something.

All this took time. On a normal day with good visibility, we could have gone a lot further, but this wasn’t good visibility and we were trying not to get caught, so I felt that we were going at a snail’s pace. The one thing that worried us, other than getting caught of course, was not finding somewhere to hide out by dawn.

To be honest, we were all pretty tired. We hadn’t rested much before leaving the school and none of us were used to this sort of thing at the dead of night. So we were tired, scared and unsure as to whether we were doing the right thing.

Albert or rather Helen was very quiet and quite miserable. I had no idea whether it was because she was, like the rest of us, scared witless or the fact that she had to pretend to be a girl. That thought was something that I found hard to comprehend. Surely everyone wanted to be a girl?

We had to refer to Helen as she as we didn’t want to give the game away and anyway, the way she was dressed was nothing like a boy would be wearing. I was very much afraid that she would have to lump it and accept that she was, as far as the world was concerned, a girl. Any alternative to that might lead to something awful happening.

I wasn’t paying much attention to where I was going as I was deep in thought and I promptly tripped up on an exposed but unseen tree root.

‘Blast,’ I exclaimed as I went over and grazed my knee.

‘SHHH!’ cried out everyone as I was helped to my feet.

‘Not much sympathy here,’ I thought as we continued on after I wiped my sore knee with a rather grubby hanky.

Then I needed to go to the toilet, but there wasn’t one. Mind you, there were plenty of trees so I went behind one and squatted down. I never did like standing up and weeing, but I could see the advantages of this method when I got a bit splashed. The things we girls had to go through!

Others had the same idea as me and they were lurking behind their own individual tree. I had a feeling that Helen stood up to do the necessary, but there was no way I was going to remark on it!

We carried on in single file. It was cold and all we could hear for a while was the sound of our rather laboured breathing and the occasional engine noise from planes and vehicles on the road. I didn’t hear any more gunfire and I wondered if all of our people had been captured, killed or had just gone away.

In the gloom, we saw the prison and I wondered who was in there now. Would they have sent the prisoners to some place of work? I couldn’t believe that they would just be left in there. Sometime later I found out that political prisoners were sent there, some never to come out alive. The original prisoners themselves were sent to mines to work on coal faces.

It all seemed so strange. I always thought that Great Britain would never be conquered and here we were, fleeing for our lives, our government in tatters, our leaders dead and we had, as a country, surrendered. I hated the idea of us being bossed about by the Germans and I had a deep intense feeling that I wanted to get my own back on the people that had killed my parents and sister.

We came off the common at about 2.30 in the morning and then by the dim light of a street lamp, we huddled around the map to try to decide, in whispers, where we should go.

Around about us were houses but all was dark. We had no idea who was in the houses, but we were worried that it could have been soldiers billeted or something. I think the fact that everyone was scared witless by the threats from the occupiers, meant that even if they weren’t the enemy, no one would answer the door to us even if we tried.

We had decided though, that we wouldn’t ask for any help because we didn’t know anyone. The Black Shirts under Mosley had a large following and although Mosley had been put in prison the year before, it was known that he had a lot of followers still. I would bet a pound to a penny that those Black Shirts would come out of the woodwork now and help the Germans in any way they could.

We had heard that in other occupied countries, many had helped the enemy–often referred to as Quislings–and I saw no reason why we should risk asking for help from people with whom we no idea where their loyalties lay.

I won’t go through every road and alley we went down that night, many of which I had no idea of the name.

At one point, we were walking along a quiet road, single file and trying not to make a noise. Up ahead was a main road. It was the Uxbridge Road and we could see, even at a distance that it was busy, mainly with military traffic. We had little choice because we had to cross that road. We hoped to find a lull in the traffic and then slip across. We stopped near the corner and then we heard the sound of marching feet, lorry engines and the unmistakably squeaky sound of tank tracks.

We hid in a garden behind thick bushes, virtually on the corner but could see through the branches at what was going on the road. Lorries passed us by and then some tanks, the noise was terrific and then marching men, column after column, all heading towards the centre of London. The very ground shook and I wondered if hell was like this.

Glad gasped and we all looked out.

In between two columns of soldiers were some of our people. There were soldiers in uniform, a few sailors and RAF personnel and at the back of the raggedy column, some older men and boys–civilians. They all looked dejected and defeated. A few were chained to each other for some reason and others could barely walk, were clearly injured and had to be helped by others. Armed soldiers walked beside the prisoners and they looked like they would shoot anyone who got out of line. It was a frightening sight.

Claire suddenly stood up, a determined look on her face. I swear, given the chance she would have gone out there, but she was pulled down by two of the girls and was sat on. Luckily, she didn’t make a noise or we would have all been in trouble.

We all knew how she felt but also knew in our hearts that it was hopeless to try to help the poor unfortunates.

After half an hour the traffic lessened to a trickle and then the road was quiet again.

We made our move while we had a chance and were soon across the road and diving down yet another side street.

Claire was very quiet for a while and I knew that she was badly affected by what she had seen. I had felt deep pangs of anger and guilt that we had been powerless to do anything also; but I had put a lid on my feelings and I just held on to the hope that we would eventually win through and beat the enemy.

By now we were almost exhausted and Helen in particular looked all in. We had to stop somewhere. After looking at the map, we realised that we were on the edges of Osterley Park and after a hasty conflab, we decided to walk through it and try to find some trees and bushes where we could hide out the daylight hours. The moon had risen and we could see a bit more clearly in the clear skies. The moon was our enemy really as it might make us more visible to others.

We walked for about thirty minutes and on the skyline could see Osterley House–it was in the dark and we could see no signs of life. I knew that at one time it was a school for the Home Guard, but it had been closed the previous summer and left abandoned.

‘I’ve just about had it,’ said Helen who sat down suddenly on a tree stump.

We all tried to jolly her along, to get her going again, but it was clear that she had had enough and we needed to find somewhere to hole up.

‘Why not in there?’ asked Ethel pointing at the big old quiet building.

We looked at each other. It was a chance but still...

‘It looks peaceful enough,’ said Glad doubtfully.

‘The Germans can’t be everywhere,’ I said, ‘Maybe just one night. Take a chance and try to get some rest?’

Then it started to rain; a fine, drizzly rain that threatened to soak us in no time.

We all looked at each other, instinctively realising that it was a big chance. The building would probably be used by the Germans and that they might use it as some sort of area headquarters at some stage, but we were banking on the fact that they had just arrived in the area and didn’t realise it was here or something.

I know that this sounded weak, but we were tired, wet, sore and hungry. Any excuse was all we needed to get under some form of cover.

The rain started to teem down then and we knew that if we didn’t get out of the rain, we might all catch pneumonia.

Anyway the long and short of it was that we made our way to the mansion and went around the back to find a way in.

It was all locked up, of course, but a handy brick got us a window open and we all piled in. That was after ensuring that the place was truly empty and that there was no one in earshot.

It was very dark, but we had brought candles and matched and we lit a few and then had a look around.

The place had little furniture and what there was, were covered in sheets.

We all were a bit shy and we all found a corner to change into dry clothing. I was pleased at this as I still didn’t want to tell anyone about my thingie or explain why a physical boy was really a girl inside. We had too much going on and even though everyone was kind to Helen, I did not know how they would react to me if I told them the truth.

Helen struggled to get her dress off and put a clean one on and Claire went over and helped her. I could see that Helen was dreadfully embarrassed and I really felt for her. Mind you, as far as everyone else was concerned, ‘Albert’ was being brave and ‘putting up’ with being a girl. What would they say if they knew about me?

We made ourselves at home and after double checking that no light could be seen from the outside, we settled down, had something to eat and drink from our meagre supplies and made plans.

We looked at the map book, saw where we were and decided on the best way out of London. Not an easy task as we weren’t at all sure where road blocks and patrols would be. Glad was all for going by the most direct route possible and hiding where we had to.

‘It’s so far to go and look how tired we are at the moment. What will we be like after hundreds of miles?’

Despite this argument, her suggestion was decided to be the worst option, as we could be put in a situation where there was no alternative to getting around one of the blocked roads.

‘Maybe we should hitch a lift on a lorry or better still a train.’

‘’Difficult,’ I said, ‘we couldn’t just ask the lorry driver where he was going even and if we got away with stowing away in the back of one; I bet there are searches at check points. We have to assume that everyone, including lorry drivers, are working for the enemy.’

‘That’s right, said Glad, ‘we can’t trust anyone.’
‘Also,’ I continued, ‘it looks like all the trains are being used by the Germans. They may be well guarded. Mind you, it might be worth at least seeing what we could do about a train, just in case. If we don’t look we won’t know. There may be empty ones where we could hitch a lift on; it would save our poor feet!’

‘So we might not have to walk?’ said Claire hopefully.

‘Let’s hope so,’ said Ethel cheerfully, ‘Anyway, let’s try the train idea, after dark tomorrow. The track leading to the south west isn’t that far away and we could get lucky.’

Looking around, I sincerely hoped so. The idea of going all the way to Cornwall sounded like a good idea when I suggested it, but I hadn’t thought it all through. It was so far away.

We argued the toss for a while longer, going over and over what we could and couldn’t do, but we eventually decided that we would just have to wait and see. Everyone was dog tired and Helen was already asleep on a couch, so we decided to catch forty winks, so we all settled down for the remainder of the night, or what there was left of it.

‘WAKE UP!’ hissed Ethel as she shook me awake.

‘Wha?’

‘The Germans are coming! Come on everyone, let’s get out now before its too late, thank goodness I woke up and saw them.’

Glancing out of the window, I could see that it was beginning to get light, although it did appear to be a bit foggy outside.

Everyone struggled up and somehow we gathered our things together and headed out of the broken window by which came in.

Luckily we were at the back of the building and near a wall that led to a lane, which in turn took us out of the grounds of the Mansion without being seen. The fog helped to shroud us from unwanted eyes, for which we were truly thankful.

We could hear a lot of noises like engines, shouting, the stamping of boots and the occasional barked order echoing around the high walls of the old building.

So, as the Germans came in the front, we had sneaked out of the back. Thank goodness that Ethel was a light sleeper!

We put as much distance as we could from the activity at the mansion and soon the noise coming from the big house and its drive lessened to a dull disjointed noise. The ground was still wet from the rain in the night and our shoes and socks soon got more than a little damp, but no one complained as we had just missed being caught by the skin of our teeth.

We were in trouble still and we knew it. We couldn’t afford to be seen in the daylight, so the priority was finding somewhere to hole up during the day. Already there were more soldiers and vehicles about, making us scurry for cover when we heard footsteps or an engine. It appeared that only military vehicles were being used at the moment, rationing and shortages had limited the amount of private vehicles early on in the war but somehow the Germans didn’t seem to be that short of petrol or diesel.

Then as the fog started to lift, we saw a sight that absolutely horrified us. A tree on a street by the park, with three people hanging from one broad branch, swaying slightly in the breeze. Why they were there we didn’t know and there was no way that we were going to go close enough to have a look at the notices pinned to the front of each of them.

I felt sick and Glad actually was. The sight would haunt me for many days and it was a silent group that walked as rapidly away from the horror. One of the hanged people looked like a boy about my age...

In shock and not really believing what we had seen, we continued on without saying much. My teeth were chattering and I wondered if it was the cold or from the fright of what we had seen. Eventually we found an old house that had been partially bombed just off The Great West Road and we made the best of things in a relatively undamaged room at the back of the house, which luckily lay back a bit from the road.

And so there we were, cold, dispirited, hungry as most of our supplies were gone now, and unable to think too clearly after our experiences of the last 24 hours.

It was one of the longest days of my life. We tried to sleep but were too scared to do so in case we were found and dragged off somewhere. We did doze, but any little noise woke us up and there were a lot of noises coming from the main road. We posted two lookouts for an hour a time while the rest of us rested but our nerves were on the ragged edge and we all felt as if we had not had anything like enough sleep. We needed more food too; as we only had a tiny amount left–water was there in a water butt, undamaged outside the back door though. It wasn’t very clean water but we had to make do.

Eventually night fell and the noises outside grew less and less. Deciding that we had better get moving, we got our things together and after looking carefully, we left our temporary refuge and continued on our long journey.

We headed west, once again using side roads. The night was fine and clear and for once it wasn’t so cold. The moon was up and we could see quite clearly.

Making good time, we passed Heathrow Aerodrome which now appeared full of German planes. The place was abuzz with a lot of take offs and landings. We carried on, trying to blend with the surroundings and ever alert for danger. There were no signs of life in the surrounding, silent houses and bungalows. Not for the first time, I wondered where everyone was and it was only later that we found out that many had fled from the city and those that stayed were rounded up and were either imprisoned or to put to work by the Nazis. Huge temporary camps with holding pens had been erected in the large parks, Hyde Park and Regents Park being the two biggest.

No wonder we didn’t see anyone, although I was sure that there must be at least some people hiding away in their homes, and staying under the radar.

We continued on our weary way, stopping to rest sometimes and always aware that a patrol might be around the next corner.

We were close to Richings Park now and it was getting lighter over in the east. Luckily we found a boarded up shop on Station Road in Langley, pretty close to the railway line where we hoped that night to somehow get on a train heading west. We decided to try and get into the shop. The place was deserted and we hoped that we might be able to rest up there and maybe find something to eat and drink.

We were just about to try and get into the shop, when we heard the sounds of engines from above.

There had been a lot of air activity, and despite our need to find cover we had been constantly looking up and watching the planes as they tracked across the sky, their silhouettes and vapour trails clear in the gradually lightening sky.

Suddenly, from the north, there streaked two planes that we recognised instantly as Spitfires–we would have recognised them by the engine noise alone, as every child and adult in the country would. They were being pursued by about ten German fighters and were weaving and dodging desperately to avoid being fired at.

As one, they climbed rapidly high up in the air, vapour trails following them as they shot further up in the sky with the enemy following in their wake.

One broke to the left and the other to the right and they twisted, turned and looped and somehow found themselves behind the enemy.

They both got off shots at the enemy planes and managed to hit two of them. Another two German planes collided head on into each other and a huge explosion rocked the sky. That left six German fighters to our two. Then the Spitfires looped around again, almost as if they were attached to each other by a long string and headed straight in our direction, going over our heads at about a hundred feet and streaking away to the south with the remaining German fighters following closely like dogs chasing foxes.

We wanted to wave and cheer, but that would have been foolish. We had thought that all our forces had surrendered but that obviously wasn’t the case. It gave us heart and cheer where we had none before.

We continued on with more of a spring in our steps, hoping that our brave lads would outrun the Germans and make it to safety, wherever that was. We were a good deal happier now that we had seen that at least some of us were willing to fight.

We broke into the shop using a stout metal washing line prop that we found in the small back yard. As usual, we used the rear entrance as it would be out of sight from the road and any prying eyes, but the splintering noise from the door when we prised it open would have woken the dead. We stopped, holding our collective breath and then when nothing happened we all piled in.

By the light of candles we had a look around. It was a general grocery shop very like that one I had stayed in a few nights before and we were in luck as much of the stock was still in there with lots of boxes, tins and packets strewn about, as if the owners had left in a hurry, but we had more than enough for us to be able to eat our fill and take what we needed.

I felt some qualms about taking the things, but this was an emergency and I hoped that the owners would understand our plight, if they ever came back. Anyway, Glad said that she believed that the Germans would probably take everything that wasn’t nailed down anyway. With that thought in mind we ate as much as we could eat and made a small pile of provisions to take with us when we were able to move on. Mind you, with rationing, our choices weren’t that great.

The shop had tins of fruit, tomatoes, peas and carrots, not forgetting spam. Also there was some rather iffy cheese, but when needs must, you make do, so we scraped off the green stuff and ate it anyway. There were also some dried eggs, although we couldn’t light a fire; we took some of the packets in the hope that we might be able to use them at a later date. We found some bottles of drink–orangeade, lemonade and cream soda and we wasted no time in opening some and drinking our fill. It was much nicer than the dirty water that we had been used to for a while!

As we sat around in the little sitting room at the back of the shop, feeling more comfortable than we had for ages, we talked about what would happen next.

‘Well, I’m pooped,’ said Ethel pulling of her shoes and rubbing her feet.

‘Me too,’ said Glad. ‘I’ve walked more miles tonight than I ever have before and I swear that I've got blisters everywhere.’

‘We have all done very well.’ I said, ‘I didn’t think that we would get this far tonight. Mind you we have a long way to go.’

‘Too far for me,’ said Helen tiredly. ‘I want to get back to being a boy again. I don’t know how you girls like dresses and skirts. I’m frozen solid and my legs at the top are red raw.’

‘We have been through this before Helen...’ said Claire.

‘I’m Albert’

‘No you are Helen when dressed like that,’ I said wearily, my voice sounding slightly slurred with fatigue. ‘We must all act and be girls so that there is no chance of someone calling you Albert if we get stopped. That is why we all agreed to say ‘she and her’ rather than ‘he and him’ when talking about you. As it is, if we are caught we will all probably get taken off somewhere, and my hope is that we aren’t strip searched or something if that awful thing that does happen. It’s a fact that boys have it a lot rougher at the moment than girls and the last thing you or I want is for us to be taken away and put in with the men and boys while the girls are taken somewhere else. Didn’t you see? One of those poor people that were hanged was a boy only a bit older than us?’

I rubbed my eyes and then noticed that no one was saying anything. I took my hands away from my face to find them all staring at me. Then I realised that my mouth had spoken without thinking and I had slipped up. My heart sort of flipped and I felt like I wanted to be sick.

‘What?’ I asked, looking from one to another, knowing without them saying anything that I had given the game away.

‘Carol, are...are you a boy?’ asked Claire in a strange voice.

To be continued..?

Painting: The Spirit of London During the Blitz by Nettie Moon, 1979

Please leave comments and let me know if you want this to continue. Oh, and if you can, please do the kudo-thingie...thanks! ~Sue