A Different World

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Authors: Mary Nichols
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cellar at the Pheasant has been made into an air raid shelter with a few chairs and a cupboard full of emergency rations. There’s a primus stove down there and a kettle and teapot, so if we have to go down there, we won’t starve. All we’ve got to do is remember to take some milk down when we go. So far we haven’t had to use it. The council came and built a brick shelter in the school playground and the children have been practising marching out to it in an orderly fashion and donning their gas masks. They don’t seem a bit frightened and think it is great fun and a good excuse to miss lessons. That may change if we get a real raid close by.
    ‘Beattie is way ahead for her age, which comes from going to school early, I suppose. And the rest of the children are doing well. I’m going to coach the brightest of them for the scholarship next year. That is, if we are still here, which I assume we will be. Are you going to have a passing out parade when your training is done? I suppose then you will become operational. I am dreading that, but you must know that wherever you are or whatever you are doing I shall be with you in spirit always. Your very loving Louise.’
    The reason Louise was dreading Tony becoming operational was that the Battle of Britain was being fought in the air and every day they would learn from the Home Service bulletins how manyaircraft had been lost, and aircraft meant airmen too, though some were able to bail out. The Luftwaffe started by attacking British ships in the Channel and bombing Channel ports and airfields around London. It was happening mostly in the south but with so many airfields in East Anglia the people there were far from immune. Cambridge and Norwich and some of the Norfolk airfields were bombed. When the first bombs were dropped on London, Louise went home to try and persuade her parents to move to the country.
    The train as far as Ely had spare seats but after Ely, where she changed to a London-bound train, it was a different story and she resigned herself to standing all the way to Liverpool Street. A young airman with a Poland flash on his shoulder stood up and bowed to her. ‘Please, take my seat.’
    She thanked him and sat down. He went to stand in the corridor but when another passenger left the train at Cambridge, he returned to sit beside her. He took a cigarette packet from his pocket and offered her one.
    ‘No thank you, I don’t smoke.’
    ‘Do you mind if I do?’
    ‘Not at all.’
    He lit up, blowing the smoke towards the open window.
    ‘How long have you been in England?’ she asked.
    ‘I arrived just before Christmas.’
    ‘It’s a pity you didn’t go straight back again,’ another passenger put in. She was a middle-aged woman, wearing a light linen coat and a felt hat with a sweeping red feather. Her lips, drawn into a thin line of disapproval, were scarlet. ‘We don’t want you here.’
    ‘How can you say that?’ Louise demanded. ‘The Poles are our allies, our only allies at this moment.’
    ‘It’s their fault, this war,’ the woman went on, to a murmur ofagreement from the fat man sitting beside her. ‘They brought it on themselves, sending troops into Germany – asking for it, that was. And then they expect us to dig them out of it.’
    ‘I think you have been badly misinformed,’ Louise said, furious with her. Whether the other occupants of the carriage agreed or disagreed, she did not know; they remained silent. ‘Poland was overrun by the Germans, just as the rest of Europe was. You should blame Hitler for this war, no one else.’
    ‘What do you know about it?’ the fat man demanded. ‘A mere slip of a thing not long out of the schoolroom, I shouldn’t wonder.’
    ‘I know better than to believe German propaganda. Anyone with half an eye can see that Hitler has been planning this all along.’
    ‘Please,’ the Polish airman said, laying a hand on Louise’s arm. ‘Do not argue with them.’
    ‘Aren’t you going to

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