Vera's Valour (6 page)

The soldier had followed her eyes and noticed the flat tyre too.

Vera could hardly believe what happened next. The soldier took her bike from her and began to look for the puncture.

Remembering she had a puncture kit – a small, oblong tin box – in her bicycle bag, Vera looked for it. Then she handed it to the soldier who opening it, took out a small tube of glue, and a rubber patch. Then he set about mending her puncture!

Well, blow me down! I gave some Germans a meal - and now one is mending by bicycle tyre. Tit for tat. One good turn deserves another!

When he’d finished an expert job mending the tyre, he noticed the creaking pedals, and went off coming back with a can of oil. And soon her screechy pedals were well oiled and working smoothly. Last of all he looked at her brake pads and adjusted them so that they worked properly.

German efficiency!

Vera was flabbergasted.

The repairs were complete and Vera was thanking the soldier, when a bellowed order was heard. Every soldier came to attention. Then as the soldiers rushed to line up by the side of the road, and moved their vehicle off the centre of the road, Vera felt alarmed.

What was happening?

It was clear to her that they were waiting for someone to come along the road.

Was it a high-ranking German officer coming to review the costal defences?

But Vera had the sense not to wait to find out. Getting on her bicycle, she hopped on her bicycle and rode off as fast as she could – and she found she just whisked along the road, with a plumb front tyre, and easy-to-turn pedals.

What a narrow escape she’d had from the enemy.

* * *

It was only a little time after that she heard the sound of a car coming behind her.

Before she had time to consider what to do it had raced by her as such speed she fell off her bike. But she had time to glimpse the grim face of a capped German officer in the back of the car.

Was it the famous German General, Rommel, who had been beaten by Montgomery in Africa?

It could have been.

As she picked herself up and noticed yet another run in her stockings, she wished she was at home and could mend them as she usually did with her sewing mushroom and needle and thread. Make and mend. And the Germans she’d found out were pretty good at that too.

But home was another world. Right now she was lost, somewhere near the Normandy coast in France, with a huge invasion force about to descend on the area.

She felt herself shivering as she consulted her map and mounted her bicycle again.

Would she ever find this shelter Geoff had told her to go to?

What she wanted more than anything was a cup of tea!

It seemed hours later when she approached a village that she recognised the row of trees Geoff had drawn for her on the map. Somewhere around must be the shelter.

She was cautious, approaching the quiet village with stealth. She’d learned enough by now to know she had to be careful. She hadn’t met any nasty Germans yet, but she knew she’d been fortunate not to. Getting off her bicycle she wheeled it slowly towards the houses, looking around to see if she could spot anyone.

She supposed it was not unusual for people to be having their evening meal at this late hour and that was why there was no one about. But it didn’t comfort her. The whole place seemed too empty. Where was everyone? Hiding in their cellars because the word had got around that they were vulnerable as the Allies were coming?

Vera walked though the deserted street, and began to think she would have to knock on a door when she was taken unawares, hearing aircraft overhead. Before she could consider what to do she realised the place was under attack.

The tremendous roar of the low-flying planes frightened her and she aromatically crouched down. Seconds later the tremendous earth-shaking sound of bombs exploding made her cower near a doorway.

Shaken, she remained there for awhile until she began to realise this was only a taster of what was to come and she must find the shelter.

With hands that would not keep still she took out the little map she’d been given. Making herself look at it although her eyes made the directions swim in front of her, she saw it suggested the shelter was the other side of the village.

Get going! You can’t stay here unprotected.

But she felt so scared she just didn’t want to move. Then she remembered Geoff, and her unborn child she had to save herself from danger for their sake. Everyone was frightened in wartime. Every soldier, sailor, as well as and those under attack. What was the song she knew so well?

Pack up your troubles in your old kit bag and smile, smile, smile . . .

She had got herself into this mess, no one had ordered her to go to France. Geoff was furious that she had. So she must make the best of it.

With legs that didn’t want to support her, Vera picked herself, and her bicycle up, and began to make herself work out where the shelter was. Geoff’s instructions had been fairly straight forward so far, so she must just calm herself and figure out where the shelter was.

It was a shock seeing a bomb had landed on some houses. The dust covered everything. Shattered glass and smashed walls she had to walk over. Only the shell of some old houses that had stood for years remained. The rest had crumbled away, revealing the private lives of people who had lived there. She could see the colour of their bedroom wallpaper, a crooked picture still hanging on a wall. Some furniture was incredibly still in place, although most of the upper floors were gaping open.

This was the result of war. It was heartbreakingly sad.

Stumbling on she passed though the village and faced the open countryside and felt she could breathe freely again.

Ah, there was the sign she was looking for: a very small wayside chapel containing a statue, where someone had placed some flowers.

It was hearing children’s voices that alerted her to the entrance of the huge underground foxhole.

Still feeling wobbly, Vera made her way down a bank to find a hundred pair of eyes staring at her.

She didn’t expect to that this was going to be her hiding place for the next few days.

* * *

Speaking French helped her to make herself accepted amongst the villagers. And being with them was better than being alone. Vera soon found her time taken up with helping to amuse the children, and comfort them as the bombardment took place overhead. There was feeding everyone to think about too. And here Vera made herself useful, helping the village women to share what food they had brought with them into the shelter so that no one was left to starve. For the first time in her life Vera had periods of feeling really hungry. But knowing she was expecting a child she had to have her share of any of the food available to keep healthy.

Vera remembered later the long hours and days she huddled with the hundred or so villagers in the shelter was a nightmare. Aware of the hearing thunderous noises over them, they knew tragedies were taking place. Even the children stopped playing and became frightened - like the adults - wondering what was to become of them.

* * *

After days of hearing bombing the quietness that followed was just as scary. Everyone began to talk, wondering what had happened above ground.

Jeanette, a young woman who Vera was helping with distributing the food, was concerned about some of her livestock.

“I must go and feed my goats,” she said.

Vera looked at her with apprehension. “It may not be safe . . . ”

Jeanette stared back at her. “I’ve been looking out and haven’t seen any sign of any soldier’s about.”

Vera could understand her dilemma.

Anxious to stretch her legs and get some fresh air, Vera said impulsively, “I’ll go with you.”

Jeanette smiled saying, “I admit I am scared of going alone, although it isn’t far to the farm.”

So the two woman scrambled out from underground, and cautiously viewed the surrounding countryside. It all appeared to be as normal at first. No noise, and no one in sight.

Following Jeanette they walked along the lane towards the farm. Alert, in case they had to dive under a hedge. They found nothing untoward – at first.

Suddenly Jeannette gave a cry and pointed towards a field. The gate had been smashed by a tank which had churned up the grass into muddy tracks.

Vera gasped seeing dead cattle and grasped Jeanette hand.

But they continued towards the farm, which seemed intact.

Jeanette muttered a prayer under her breath.

When they arrived at the goat pen the goats were alive. Jeanette filled a bucket with water and hurriedly placed it for them to drink and then another with feed and threw it into the pen.

Aloud explosion made the women fall to the ground.

It was minutes later they realised what had happened. There had been a bomb in the goat pen and the bucket had hit it and exploded.

Shaken by their narrow escape from death, Jeanette and Vera hugged each other, then agreed they must take great care wherever they went.

The farmhouse was unharmed, and Jeanette was able to collect a few items she wanted to take back to the shelter, while Vera wandered outside and looked towards the village.

It took her a few minutes to realise that the buildings ahead had not escaped bombardment. The spire on the church was missing. Some houses had been hit.

Some people in the shelter were going to find their homes, and possessions and livestock had not survived the fighting.

And indeed, so far she had been lucky.

But what about Geoff?

Before they returned, they gathered some fruit from the orchard, and found a few eggs, then hurried back into the shelter.

How much longer would they be stuck underground?

CHAPTER EIGHT

NEXT morning uniformed men came towards the shelter and there was a hush. Everyone afraid of what they might do to them.

But Vera smiled recognising a British officer.

It was Geoff!

Dressed in his English colonel’s uniform, she rushed to put her arms around him, knowing that the Allied landings had been successful. He wouldn’t be walking about in his uniform if the Germans still held the area.

“I had to come and check on you,” he said hugging her close.

“I’m alright.”

“Is there anything you need?”

She shook her head. Being with him was all she wanted.

“And your job?” she asked.

“Mulberry B for the British landings is in place, but we’d only just got the supplies unloading from the ships, when a terrible storm blew up in the Channel, almost wreaked it. In fact, the lashing waves did wreak Mulberry A, the American floating harbour.”

Vera looked up into his eyes expected him to cry with anguish that his long hard slog to get the harbours made and in position had failed because of the foul weather.

But he smiled. “We waited until the storm was over, and then managed to repair Mulberry B, using part of Mulberry A that had been saved.”

“What about the American supplies?”

“The Americans managed to capture the port of Cherbourg, and can use that to bring their supplies on shore.”

“So your floating dock is successful?” Vera asked the question, although she knew by the relief on his face that it was.

“Yes, it is.”

“Your worries are over.”

“No, Vera. My worry now is to get you safely back home,” he said.

Vera had learned not to be so sure of what might happen to her – both good fortune and bad might occur. And knowing she’d had several lucky escapes from danger of various kinds already, she was now wise enough not to repeat, as she had done before, that she had got to France on her own and she could get back just as easily.

“Aren’t you going back, now your job is done?”

He shook his head. “No, it isn’t. I might be in France for some time, at least until the British are able to use French ports. And German opposition is formidable. There is bitter fighting everywhere. We have still to secure all the land and make sure we are not pushed back into the sea.”

Their conversation was interrupted. People were anxious to ask when they could return to their homes.

“Be sure to tell them to take great care wherever they go,” said Vera, “and warn them about the devastation they may see.”

Colonel Parkington’s French was not as good as Vera’s, but between them they were able to tell the villagers that the battle had moved from the immediate countryside and was unlikely to return. Which raised a cheer. However, being told about the horrors they might find ahead of them was not easy to explain. Vera thought Geoff put it as well as anyone could.

After everyone had had the opportunity ask questions, which Geoff and the other soldiers with them answered as best they could, the villagers their collected their belongings and left.

Geoff took Vera aside. “Your home is a long way off,” he said. “I want you to have this pass to get back on any transport that will take you.” He handed her some papers. “But, of course, I need not tell you that the whole coastal area is still covered with mines and obstacles. It’ll be cleared in time, but you need to know where not to tread. And there may still be pockets of Germans hiding in the countryside, or German agents about ready to shoot anyone in sight. You won’t be able to avoid coming across seeing so many dead and injured. Germans, as well as allied soldiers have been killed. So much carnage is hard to bear and awful to see. The army and the local people will clear it all up in time, but the pressing need is for the armies that have landed to move forward and drive the Germans back.”

Vera steeled herself to accept seeing the ravages of war. She had to go through it to reach England Her place was at home now - to have her baby.

Should she tell him the good news?

No, once again she decided it was better she should not let him worry about her anymore than he did already. And he did appear to have aged – to have more creases on his brow. He seemed to have become almost detached from any emotion. For some reason she thought he was like a wound up toy soldier just marching about.