Sunday, August 25, 1940
Sonia stood on the newly built concrete breakers. She looked over the huge boulders to the sea beyond. She was straining her eyes, trying to see the coast of France.
There was no beach in Aldwick anymore. Last autumn, soldiers had taken away hundreds, probably thousands of truckloads of sand. Then they used tanks to move the boulders in place. Sonia knew that the sand was for sandbags to protect buildings from the bombs, but she hated that they’d taken it all away. It wasn’t that she still made sand castles or anything like that. She was eleven. She didn’t really like the feeling of sand between her toes. But she loved to look at the beach, her beach. Now it was gone. She wondered if they’d bring back all of the sand after the war was over.
It was all right for Barbara. Barbara was fourteen and she was happy as long as she had a book to read. And her little brother Derek loved the war. He’d race outside when he heard planes in a dogfight. He’d wait to see where the losing plane spiraled down to earth, then bike over there as quickly as he could. Of course, he was really excited when it was a German plane that crashed. He came back with all sorts of gruesome stories—he’d seen a decapitated pilot once. Last week he’d been playing inside an old deserted tank when a Typhoon fighter plane used it for target practice. He’d almost been killed when the Typhoon strafed the tank with bullets. Sonia’s mum had been really angry with him that day, but it didn’t stop him from going back the next time he heard the bombers. He thought the war was a great game.
Their father worked in London and only came home on the weekends. He said the bombing was even worse there. But since June, when the Germans had taken over France, what they were all really scared of was the thought of the Germans invading England. They were just across the channel. On a clear day like today, Sonia was sure she could see France from Aldwick, although her mother had told her time and time again that was impossible. As she stood staring out over the concrete breakers, she imagined the German boats landing on her beach that wasn’t a beach anymore.
Last Friday when Sonia’s father got home, she overheard her mother’s strained, frightened voice pleading with him to stay with them. “If the Germans invade England, Aldwick is probably one of the first places they’ll land.”
“You know I have to be in London to look after the business. Things don’t stop just because there is a war on,” he’d said.
Friday, September 6, 1940
Sonia’s father arrived home early. He had three large new steamer trunks with him—and four first-class tickets.
Barbara was furious. “We’re running away?”
“No,” said her father patiently. “You are going to safety.”
“It’s wrong to leave. We should be staying here to help!” Barbara glared at their father.
“I want to stay here and fight the Jerries!” Derek was working himself up to a nine-year-old-sized tantrum.
“I want to stay here with all of my friends,” cried Barbara.
Their father held Barbara in his eyes as he spoke.
“You are going on a huge luxury ship, converted for wartime use. You are going to Canada.” He turned to Derek. “Derek, I am going to loan you my special suitcase. I can’t go with you, so I need you to be the man of the family.”
Derek’s face relaxed into a grin. “To Canada? With the Eskimos?” he asked.
“I don’t think there are any Eskimos with your cousins in Montreal, Derek, but you can look around when you get there.”
“But—” Barbara began.
“Enough,” said her father sternly. “I won’t have your mother living through bombing raids, or worse, an invasion. It was hard enough surviving the Zeppelin attacks in the Great War. No one should have to face it again.”
And so it was settled. They were leaving for Canada the next week. Sonia was sorry to leave her dog Mackie, but really excited at the idea of travelling across the ocean. She felt like she was going on holiday. A holiday to Canada.
Wednesday, September 11, 1940
Sonia wore her new camel-hair coat that they’d bought especially for the trip. Her trunk was filled with a new wardrobe of blouses, cardigans, skirts, and stockings, even new outfits for her doll Lolly. They had so many trunks and cases that they needed two porters to help at every stage of the journey.
The train to Liverpool kept stopping because of the air raids. By the time they arrived it was dark. Derek was whiney and annoying, and Barbara wasn’t speaking to anyone. Sonia absentmindedly brushed all of the tangles out of Lolly’s hair. She was bored and hungry when they finally got to the hotel.
But when they walked into the front door of the Adelphi Hotel, all of Sonia’s exhaustion and bad temper vanished.
“Oh, Mummy, look!” A huge glass chandelier filled the centre of the spacious lobby. Sonia’s eyes flitted around the room. Golden angel heads were carved on top of the frames of the blacked out windows. Marble inlays created delicate patterns on the floor.
“Good evening, Mrs. Bech. I am sure you are all tired from the journey. Can I arrange tea for you in the lounge while we take your trunks up to your rooms?” asked the hotel manager.
“Oh, yes, please!” Sonia burst out. Derek was already speeding his toy cars on the marble floor. Barbara was heading for a large armchair, clutching a book.
Wwwoooooaaaaaah. Wwwoooooaaaaahhhhh. Suddenly the air-raid siren sounded.
“No!” Sonia started to cry. “It isn’t fair! I want to stay here in the lounge and have tea!”
“Sonia,” said her mother sternly. “Pick up Lolly. Derek, gather up those cars. Now.” Barbara had already changed her path to follow the hotel porter and all of the hotel guests down to the basement.
“But we just got here!” Sonia started to sob. She wanted to sit under the chandelier with Lolly, both of them in their new clothes.
“Sonia. Enough. They’ll bring us tea in the shelter,” her mother sighed. “And remember, this is why we are leaving.”
The makeshift bomb shelter was adapted from the hotel’s Turkish bath deep underground. It was cavernous with tile benches along the walls and pointed archways leading off to other rooms. At least it’s roomier than our Anderson shelter back home, thought Sonia grumpily.
“Look how fast my cars can go on these tiles!” shouted Derek happily. His whizzing sounds echoed off of the vast walls.
The hotel guests talked quietly until the bombs started in earnest. Then the noise became deafening. Sonia curled up beside her mother on the cool white tile bench. The porter had given them all tea in china cups, with little dry biscuits on the side. But Sonia left hers untouched. Derek stopped whizzing his cars. Barbara put down her book. Endless booming sounds echoed through the Turkish bath. This stupid, stupid war, Sonia thought, as she tried not to be afraid in the strange surroundings.
Thursday, September 12, 1940
At breakfast, a large woman leaned over their table. “The tramway is at a standstill. And they aren’t letting anyone drive into the town.” Sonia was trying to eat her lumpy egg and toast fingers. Ever since they started using powdered eggs, Sonia hated breakfast.
“A bomb hit Liverpool Central Station, right where you came in yesterday. And there were six people killed in Edinburgh Street, just across from where my aunt May lives.” The woman’s loud voice jarred as it echoed through the dining room. “Mind you, she’s already left for the countryside. But I just don’t know how we’ll get anywhere today. There are huge queues for the buses.” The woman made a face as she bit into her eggs.
Sonia’s mother nodded and smiled tensely. “Sonia, can you go and find Derek? Barbara, please double-check to make sure everything is packed up. We’ve got to be ready to go the minute the car gets here.”
Sonia knew her mother had a way of getting what she wanted. While the rest of the city was at a standstill, the dust settling on the shattered streets, Sonia’s mother guided them to a car, driven by a man with a small Royal Copenhagen logo on his uniform.
“It’s a company car. From our Liverpool branch,” said her mother. “Your father arranged for it.”
The driver circled around destroyed streets and bombed-out buildings, through a maze of detours to get to the port and the Prince’s Landing pier. Everywhere Sonia looked, there were huge piles of bricks and rubble, with bits of metal poking out every which way. Those piles used to be shops and people’s homes, she thought. The whole city seemed to be a huge mound of destruction. This was a lot worse than Aldwick, she realized.
The car stopped. Sonia looked out. In front of them was a gangplank leading to a huge ship. Even though it was painted in camouflage colours, there was no mistaking the luxury liner for a warship. Black letters along the prow read: City of Benares.
Even Barbara was stunned. “That’s our ship? It’s enormous!”
Sonia thought the ship looked like something out of a picture book. She smiled as she walked up the gangplank. She imagined herself arriving in the colony and walking back down the gangplank in her new camel-hair coat.