Bombers' Moon (32 page)

Seventy

The days and nights passed without incident, that is until Fritz got us near the coast. We were emerging from a small forest when suddenly shots were fired, whizzing overhead like a swarm of bees. German voices shouted the order to ‘halt’ and Fritz accelerated away into another group of trees. He stopped among thick brush.

‘You get out,’ he said, almost gently, ‘for your sake and for ours. I’ll try to come back to pick you up. If I don’t, you’re on your own.’ He drove away and I wished him luck with all my heart.

I must have waited hidden in the trees for hours but no one came for me. At last, as it was growing dark, I knew Fritz wasn’t coming back and I began to walk. I was so tired I wanted to cry, to give myself up to the Germans, tell them everything and let them shoot me. And then I thought of the baby, my baby – Michael’s baby – and I knew I had to make an effort to escape.

My legs were aching and my belly grumbled with hunger by the time I saw the lights of a dockyard. I knew it was dangerous to go any further but I had to bluff my way back home, live by my wits as I’d done since I left British shores.

I could see German uniforms everywhere. I dug out my German papers. They were all in order, German and Irish, thanks to my dear father-in-law.

I walked into the dockyard and my heart lightened. I might get a passage to Ireland from here if I was lucky. It didn’t occur to me I didn’t know where ‘here’ was. Head high, I was stopped at a barrier and showed my German papers.

‘What is your business at the docks?’ The guard spoke in heavily accented German and I barely understood him.

‘I think I’m lost.’ It was all I could think of on the spur of the moment.

‘From Berlin, eh?’ He looked me up and down.

‘Hamburg,’ I said at once.

‘Berlin has been attacked again by the British and the Americans.’ He stumbled for the right words. ‘Soon be burned like Dresden.’ I could swear there was a touch of glee in his voice; he must be Belgian or Dutch I decided.

‘Why you leave Hamburg?’ He almost shouted the question and I jumped.

I am leaving for Ireland,’ I said, in German, ‘Sick mother to visit.’ I patted my rounded stomach. ‘Tell her about my baby, too.’

‘No ship from this port to Ireland. You go somewhere else.’

I stood there with my little bag in my hand feeling abandoned. ‘I don’t know where to go or what to do, my husband, a pilot, is lost over enemy territory.’

That was as much of the truth as I wanted to tell him. I hoped he wouldn’t probe too deeply. If he did he might discover who I really was and he’d soon find out I had been wanted in Germany as a spy. He looked at my bag and I held it out to him. He shook his head.

‘Please help me.’ I perched uncomfortably on a bollard and put my case on the ground.

He was silent for a long time and then he sighed in resignation. ‘Wait here.’ He disappeared.

I sat uncomfortably on the uneven surface feeling the cold from the pewter, oily water of the docks chill my bones. I sat there for at least an hour unnoticed. Then he was back.

‘You stubborn.’ He smiled suddenly. ‘Must be Irish in you. Show papers again.’

I showed him my papers and he nodded hesitantly. ‘You Catolic, then?’ It seemed to please him. ‘I speak to wife Ella, she Catolic as well, say you can stay in my house.’

I didn’t bother to tell him I was Welsh Baptist down to the bone. ‘I don’t want to put you to any trouble,’ I said, just to be polite.

‘No trouble, it is all right.’ He took me to the edge of the dock and pointed to the house.

‘Oh, thank you.’ I stepped from one foot to the other not knowing what to do.

‘You sit on bench,’ he said, pointing. ‘I relieved of duty in only few minutes. I am Freddie, I take you.’

Relieved, I sat on the bench; it seemed if you were small, young, pregnant and alone every man wanted to take care of you.

About an hour later I was seated near a warm fire with Freddie’s wife, Ella. She was Belgian too and brought me a hot drink of chocolate. It was a treat and though I knew that the tin of powdered chocolate was probably pinched from one of the ships on the dock, I drank with relish.

I slept on the sofa tucked into a warm blanket, the fire burned low in the grate but the embers gleamed comfortingly and out of sheer fatigue I fell asleep almost at once.

In the morning, Freddie had to go to work and Ella and I poured over a map. I wondered if I could hitch a lift into France which, to my delight, had been liberated some months ago by the British army. It was miles away, but if I could hitch a lift to Calais I would surely find a way to go to Ireland and from there to Britain.

Ella told me I was in Antwerp where the Germans had command of the dock and the seas beyond.

‘But the Allies will come soon; the Germans haf lost. You good married girl, you haf ring on finger,’ she said softly, her hand over mine. ‘You are soon to haf child?’

I smiled widely and she nodded sagely. ‘You stay us till Allies come.’

Christmas came and went. It was cold, the water in the docks looked like ice. Ella made little dolls for her two daughters and Freddie made a wooden train for his son. I just grew fatter.

One morning in February I awoke to the sounds of shooting and my heart turned over, I had grown comfortable, safe. But now I realized the war was not yet over.

Seventy-One

It was a momentous time at the beginning of the year 1945. The Americans had come to the Ardennes, the whole country was celebrating and I began slow labour at the unearthly hour of twelve o’clock in the night.

I got up and dressed and packed my little bag and then I woke Ella and Freddie. ‘I’m going home to have my baby,’ I said firmly. I knew Ella would argue and she did.

‘Not now,’ she said, ‘wait till baby come.’

‘That won’t be for a few weeks.’ I was lying through my teeth but Ella didn’t know it and she nodded.

‘I understand, you want your child to be Catolic like us.’

‘That’s right, Catholic,’ I said. It was the only way she would allow me to go. She frowned.

‘But at least wait till morning.’

‘I will go now.’ I kissed her and hugged her and then kissed Freddie. ‘Thank you for all you’ve done, I’ll write to you when I’m home.’

I set out, well wrapped in Freddie’s scarf, to the edge of the docks. There was a battalion of British soldiers and one American pilot.

‘What you doing here lady?’ The American pilot stood looking at my round figure with surprise.

‘I must get home,’ I said, trying my best to hide a small contraction.

‘You an English lady?’ He was even more surprised.

‘I’m Welsh,’ I said stubbornly. ‘My husband was a pilot, shot down a few months ago. I’m having his baby and I don’t want to have it here.’ I didn’t mention that Michael was flying for the Germans.

‘What do you expect us to do?’ one of the other men said, frowning at me.

‘I’ve been spying for the British,’ I volunteered, ‘I’ve put myself in danger to help my country and now I want to go home to have my child. Is that asking too much?’ I demanded. No one replied.

‘Look, I was supposed to be taken out of the country by the resistance but they had to leave rather hurriedly if you get my meaning and I was left to fend for myself, but now I’m asking, begging for help.’ I looked directly at the American pilot.

‘You got a plane?’

‘Of course I got a plane, lady, so what?’

‘My name is Meryl,’ I said sharply, ‘yours?’

‘Aldo,’ he said reluctantly. ‘You got a sister in Swansea, a girl called Hari?’

‘Yes, you know Hari?’

‘I met her, fine girl, lovely red hair.’

I was a little piqued, everyone admired my sister. ‘Well, Aldo, you can take me home. It will only take an hour or so, won’t it?’

‘There are fuel checks – you can’t just take an aeroplane, you know, mam.’

‘Why not, who is to know? I thought you pilots were daredevils.’

The men talked among themselves, one or two argued, and then Aldo grinned. ‘All right, for your cheek and because your sister was so nice, I’ll risk it. Tom, you drive us to the field and see about refuelling, OK?’

I breathed out a huge sigh. I didn’t think I was going to get away with it. Every bump of the jeep threatened to break my waters. I’d seen enough birthing on the farm to know more or less what happened. I knew the mother ewe delivered the lamb sometimes alone in a field and if a dull sheep could do it so could I.

It was an ordeal climbing into the plane but, by lifting up my heavy belly, I succeeded, managing not to moan with the pain. Thankful, I sat down and closed my eyes. Incredibly, I must have dozed and then I woke up sharply to the rat-tat-tat of guns.

‘Gerry on my tail,’ Aldo said, ‘some cloud to the right, I’ll hide in there.’ Through his windscreen I saw nothing but grey fog and I knew we would be in trouble if he couldn’t get out of the clouds again, but at least the enemy plane had given up and gone away. That was until we slid out of the clouds and then the shooting, alarmingly close, began again.

I pressed my palms together and like a child recited the Lord’s Prayer in English and in Welsh. ‘
Ein Tad
, Our Father’ – the words whispered out like molten silver between my lips. Aldo ducked and dived and turned the plane and fired his own guns. I saw the German plane begin to smoke and then it screeched down towards the sea. ‘Good shot!’ I said, then, ‘
Diolch yn fawr
’, as I looked up towards heaven.

‘What damn language are you speaking now?’ Aldo asked.

‘Welsh of course,’ I said huffily as if he should know. ‘By the way, you can drop me on the Welsh coast, Carmarthen, it will be nearer for you and there are plenty of fields to land in.’

‘Thank you, mam.’ Aldo’s tone was dry. ‘At least I made another kill on the way so it wasn’t entirely a wasted journey,’ he said.

The landing was scary but, following my directions, Aldo landed within about a mile of the farmhouse.

‘You didn’t bother to tell me about the hills,’ he said. ‘Now go before I’m taken for the enemy and arrested.’

I flung my bag out of the plane and dropped it to the ground. Then I had to drop myself because there were no steps. I landed with a bump and
my
bump protested by squirming frantically to get out of this uncomfortable belly.

‘Good luck, Meryl, and love to that sister of yours.’ Aldo winked, looking every inch the dashing pilot. I waved back in the rose dawn and watched him lift his plane into the sky with great skill and aplomb. And then I walked to the cold, empty farmhouse that still held the scent of Jessie and my darling Michael and prepared for the birth of my child. Alone.

Seventy-Two

Hari stood with James outside Island Farm Prison and looked at his face, dark with anger, in dismay. ‘How many of them have been caught?’

‘A few.’ He stared at her. ‘You seem very interested, sure you didn’t have anything to do with it all, Miss Jones?’

‘How could I?’ She stared at him aghast, she couldn’t lose his trust, not now, when she needed to know where Michael was. ‘I warned you they were talking about a tunnel didn’t I?’ she said defensively.

‘Aye, so you did Hari, I’m sorry,
merchi
, that was a daft idea of mine but you’re up at the camp so much, girl, I wonder what’s behind it all. I don’t flatter myself it’s my charm.’

Hari thought quickly. ‘But James, you know I’m writing a report about the prison –’ she paused – ‘it’s all good, mind, you’ve treated the prisoners with every respect, you’ve looked after them very well indeed.’

He seemed mollified. ‘Aye, too bloody well, pardon my language, we were all so sure they wouldn’t run back to the war we got too easy with them.’

Hari kissed James’s cheek. ‘You’re a good pal, James,’ she said gently, ‘I’m sure they’ll all get caught, they can’t get out of the country, can they?’

‘I told you one of the blighters got all the way to Birmingham. They’re bringing him back as we speak.’

‘Oh, do you know his name?’

‘If I did I couldn’t tell you, miss.’ James’s voice was hard. ‘By the way, I didn’t have a good look at your papers, did I?’

‘It’s top secret, James, I work for the government.’

He looked dubious.

Hari sighed. ‘All I can say is I work at the munitions here in Bridgend but it’s special work. I used to work for Colonel Edwards until he died.’

James’s face cleared. ‘Everyone has heard of the old man,’ he said respectfully. ‘But why are you watching Island Farm Prison Camp? If it was because of me you’d go out with me.’

Hari hesitated. ‘There’s someone special here, someone who might not be the true German he seems to be.’

‘His name?’

‘If I knew, I wouldn’t tell you.’ She imitated his tone and he smiled.

‘All right, Hari, I’ll believe you.’ He came a little closer. ‘But you do like me, just a bit, don’t you?’

‘Of course I do James, I wouldn’t spend so much time talking to you if I didn’t – I’d just march in here and get on with my job.’

He touched her hair. ‘So lovely,
cariad.
’

Hari smiled and after a moment moved away. ‘Look, James, I’d better get back to work.’

‘Euler,’ he said suddenly, ‘the man we caught at Birmingham, his name is Michael Euler.’

Hari’s heart lifted. ‘Is he unhurt?’

‘Aye, except for the injuries he got when he crashed, some leg wounds and minor burns, lucky bas—. Sorry, Hari.’

‘I can tell you this, James,’ Hari said, suddenly happy, ‘we’re going to win this war. I can’t tell you how I know but I do, all right?’

He grinned. ‘Come back tomorrow, I’ll see if you can interview this man Euler.’

‘Really, you can do that, James?’

‘I’ll do my best for you, Hari
fach.’

‘I’ll see you tomorrow then James and thanks for all your help, you certainly make my life easier.’

Hari rode home on the bus and then caught the train – missing Violet’s happy chatter. She was worried about Violet. Since she’d married George and moved out to Carmarthen she seemed more subdued, not her usual happy self and, when she visited Swansea, she looked around with nostalgia, clearly wishing she was back home.

‘Vi –’ Hari hugged her friend’s arm – ‘if you don’t like the country, ask George to bring you back to town.’