Millie was driving the lorry used to ferry the flyers. The men were already at readiness by their kites, so she now had two hours free to get the girls and their kitbags to the new accommodation.
‘I’m going to miss the comfort of Goodwill House,’ Di said as she jumped in beside her in the cab. ‘I’m hoping that being at Manston itself will make things easier. It’ll be jolly being in a dorm, but I must say I did enjoy sharing with just you.’
‘What’s bothering me is that I’ve now got to be strict about the rules. I’m going to have to insist that you have a domestic night – I used to hate having to sit around doing mending and polishing buttons. I’ll also have to do a full kit inspection – not every week but occasionally.’
‘We’ve got a bit lax living off the base and without senior supervision. Mind you, I don’t think anyone could complain about our efficiency, appearance or the way we do our work.’
‘Apart from Ruby and Cora, that is,’ Millie said as she heaved the steering wheel and turned the heavy vehicle so that it faced the drive. ‘Goodwill House has had two groups of WAAFs and the first six were sent here by mistake. I think that having land girls here will be better as they don’t have so many rules to follow and are much more relaxed about things.’
‘I suppose I shouldn’t say so, but I’m actually looking forward to the arrival of more girls. Having our own officers, having everything in place, will make things so much easier for everybody as we’ll know exactly what we’re doing and when we have to do it.’
‘I’ve given myself permission to get married on Friday and also given myself a two-day pass. I’m absolutely certain I wouldn’t be doing either of those things if we had a queen bee here.’
As the lorry was one of four, with camouflaged canvas covering the rear, and easily recognisable, there was no need for her to do more than slow down and wave at the guards when they reached the gates.
Di pointed to the far side of the strip where the Hurries and Spits were stationed. ‘Oh no, they’ve been scrambled.’
Millie slammed on the brakes, which, from the squeals of protest coming from the back, sent the girls tumbling from the narrow wooden seats. One just didn’t drive across the strip when the squadrons were leaving.
After turning off the engine, she twisted on her seat. ‘Sorry, ladies, our boys are about to take off. Stay where you are as we’ll be on the move again very soon.’
The grumbles stopped and there were cheerful mutters of acceptance from the rear of the vehicle. The two new drivers, Amy and Sally, were on duty and their kitbags were in the back.
She swallowed the lump in the throat as, one after the other, the Spits roared down the runway and soared into the sky – they were closely followed by the Hurries and then the Blenheims.
Seconds later, the wail of the air-raid siren made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. The nearest shelter was by the admin block but she thought they’d be safer in the ditch, which was closer and less likely to be bombed.
She was out of the cab and around the back in seconds. She didn’t need to tell the girls to hurry, they tumbled out as soon as she let down the tailgate.
‘The ditch. Follow me. Don’t forget your tin hats.’ She already had hers jammed on her head – heaven knows what had happened to her cap. No doubt she’d find it when this emergency was over.
The siren was still howling as they dived headfirst into the protection of the dugout. It was already occupied, much to her surprise and dismay.
‘Blimey, this is a turn up for the books,’ a soldier said with a leer. ‘Me and Norm didn’t expect to be joined by you lovely ladies.’
Before she could think of a suitably crushing reply, Di was upright and putting him in his place. ‘You might be a brown job, but you’ll show respect to our corporal if you don’t want to be put on a charge by your own NCO.’
Both men recoiled, saw the stripes on Millie’s arm and hastily shuffled their way to the far end of the ditch.
‘Well done, couldn’t have handled that better myself,’ Millie said as she brushed the debris from her sleeves. She glanced down the row of girls getting themselves sorted and was reassured that they were all smiling and all had their tin hats in place.
‘Why aren’t those two manning the guns? I should think that the gunners are supposed to remain at their posts, or otherwise what’s the point of having the ack ack there in the first place?’
Her friend nodded and glared down the ditch at the two who were sitting with their backs to them. ‘You must report them when this is over – I’m sure they aren’t supposed to be down here,’ Di said.
‘Oi, Corp, why ain’t the guns firing? Where’s the bleeding Jerries?’ The speaker was Gladys, from the East End, and she always spoke her mind, regardless of the consequences.
‘Just be grateful there aren’t any bombers overhead. It’s called an air-raid warning but it doesn’t mean there’ll always be an air-raid. A few weeks ago, it went off half a dozen times a day and all of them were false alarms – thank god.’
‘Fair enough – don’t want them buggers over here dropping bombs on us today.’
‘They’ll be here soon enough, Gladys, just be grateful today doesn’t look as though it’s going to be the day.’
They remained where they were for about half an hour and then the all-clear sounded and they clambered out, a bit dusty, but happy to be safe. Millie couldn’t relax until Ted’s squadron returned safely.
‘Back in the lorry, girls, and if I put my foot down then I think it’s safe to cross the strip as I can’t hear or see any of our kites.’
Both she and Di glanced frequently towards the coast. They could hear the sound of gunfire in the distance but there were no visible dogfights in the sky and certainly no approaching German bombers. She prayed fervently that her beloved Ted was safe and would return to her unharmed. Being the wife of a fighter pilot was going to be so hard as she’d be constantly worrying he wouldn’t survive his mission.
Ted listened to the crackle in his earphones. ‘Blue 2, are you receiving me?’
‘Blue 2, loud and clear.’
‘Okay, Blue 2, we have bandits over your sector, vector 120, and increase to Angels twenty.’
‘Blue 2 received and understood.’
No doubt everybody had received the same message from the controller. He continued to climb, glancing sideways as he did so, and was unsurprised to see the other members of his section doing the same.
There was a thin layer of cloud and he was through it quickly. Was this the beginning of the main attack from the Luftwaffe? He concentrated on his instruments, feeling strangely relaxed, despite the urgency.
The headphones crackled into life again. The bandits were no longer in their sector. His flight was to fly at 25,000 feet and engage with any German fighters. The three squadrons had been scrambled in order to protect a convoy of merchant vessels passing through the Channel.
The Blenheims were pretty useless as fighters – in fact, pretty useless at everything – but they carried a couple of bombs and could drop them on anything that looked remotely like a German sub. The Hurries and his squadron were there to engage and destroy enemy fighters.
The guns from the new emplacements on the French coast made flying hazardous but as far as he could see no one had been hit, despite the continuous bombardment. The sortie proved remarkably unexciting, as for some inexplicable reason the Luftwaffe didn’t appear in quantity as expected.
An hour after scrambling, the controller told them to return to base. The mission was over. They’d not had any kills but, more importantly, the convoy had escaped unscathed. Although they took off together in an orderly fashion, the kites returned individually.
He circled the empty sky a couple more times and then headed for Manston, disappointed but relieved that the sortie had been uneventful. On landing, he taxied to his designated place on the apron and left his ground crew to refuel and do their usual checks. At least there was no need to rearm this time.
The mobile canteen came to them first and once all the chaps had been served, the ladies drove off to serve the other squadrons. He found his usual spot at the back of the hut and settled down next to his friend.
‘Aren’t we going to need more than just that NAAFI van when we’re at full strength, Freddie?’
‘Bloody right we are. The adjutant has asked if we can have two extra and it would seem our prayers are to be answered. Not only that, old boy – as we’ll have possibly hundreds of WAAFs on the base, the NAAFI are in the process of erecting a Nissen hut next to the main block to provide hot food and a recreational space where we can mingle.’
‘They haven’t finished the accommodation for the first fifty women – can’t see them bringing in hundreds in the foreseeable.’
Freddie waved a languid arm in the direction of the place where Ted’s future wife would be living from tonight. ‘That area’s out of bounds to us. Being so far away from where we’re billeted, you might not have noticed the frenzy of building going on. I think they’ll be ready for a huge influx by the end of the summer.’
Ted yawned loudly and swallowed the last of his tea. ‘I’m knackered, I’m going to get some kip.’
He slept for a couple of hours undisturbed and woke stiff and uncomfortable. Freddie was still snoring quietly beside him. Thank god that from next week, when those at readiness would be sleeping here, they’d actually have camp beds to stretch out on.
He heaved himself to his feet, yawned and stretched and headed for the latrine. He wondered how Millie and the girls were settling into their less than comfortable home but would probably have to wait until Friday – their wedding day – to find out.
Being a flyer meant enduring hours of tedium followed by bursts of terrifying activity, but he was becoming accustomed to that. Like the other bods, he preferred to be in action, but was resigned to the boredom – it was how war worked.
He was first in line when the lorry trundled up. It wasn’t Millie driving but one of the new girls. He clambered over the tailgate and sat inside with everybody else. It hardly seemed possible that forty-eight hours from now, he would be making love to Millie. It would be a first for both of them and he had a moment’s doubt that he might make a complete hash of it.
This was hardly something he could ask Freddie’s advice about, although he was quite certain his friend was experienced in that department. Men just didn’t discuss things like that. Maybe if he’d had an affair then he’d be less nervous but, on the other hand, he was pleased things were as they were. The thought of any other man being with Millie was unacceptable.
Ted was now back in his own room with Dickie and, after devouring his supper, he headed straight for his billet, not bothering to detour to the mess as he really didn’t want a beer.
As he approached his room, he could see a sliver of light showing under the door. Dickie would now be at readiness with his section so who the hell was in their room? Should he knock just in case someone was using it for an illicit rendezvous?
He decided to bang on the door and open it simultaneously. The thought that someone else was having sex, possibly in his bed, really annoyed him. He flung open the door and laughed out loud. The room was empty – Dickie, the nitwit, had forgotten to turn off the light. The blackouts were closed by the orderlies long before dark just in case a glimmer of light escaped inadvertently. Shocking waste of electricity but a lot better than the alternative.
Millie was back on duty an hour later, satisfied the girls were settled and were as comfortable as they could be in the spartan surroundings. Everything was immaculate, nothing out of place and exactly as it should be.
She’d decided not to report the leering soldier. There’d been enough bad feeling between the airmen and the WAAFs recently and she didn’t want to make things worse by causing friction between the brown jobs and the RAF.
‘Di, would you pop back when you get a spare half hour and make sure the girls in the kitchen have everything they want? From tonight, we eat in our own canteen, but I don’t suppose it’ll be half as tasty as the food we’ve been having at Goodwill House. I’m not altogether sure either of the girls are up to the task of cooking for us. I don’t think they did more than peel potatoes and prepare things whilst they worked in the Officers’ Mess.’
‘We’ve all mucked in on occasions when Betty or Liza weren’t available,’ Di said. ‘I’m sure it’ll be fine but I’ll definitely check on them. It’s a nuisance the telephone isn’t connected in your office – or anywhere else, for that matter. I don’t suppose they think it’s a priority and it won’t be done until an officer arrives.’
Millie didn’t answer as the distinctive sound of Spitfires approaching attracted her attention. She shaded her eyes and looked out to sea; sure enough, there were several on their way in. It wouldn’t hurt if she remained where she was for a few more minutes.
One after the other, they circled and landed. She hadn’t realised she was holding her breath until it hissed through her teeth as the last one touched down.
‘All back safely – thank god. It’s going to be even more difficult being based here as we’ll be aware when our boys are gone.’ Millie had a knot in her stomach.
Di touched her arm sympathetically. ‘I know exactly how you feel. I don’t know him very well, but I think Freddie and I might make a go of it, too.’
Impulsively, Millie gave her friend a hug – something she wouldn’t be able to do in public for much longer. Such demonstrations were frowned upon by those above her.
Millie’s next task was to collect an officer from the station at Ramsgate. She didn’t know if this person was visiting or going to be stationed permanently at Manston. All she’d been told was to be there to meet the one o’clock train from London.
She barely had time to park the car when the engine steamed in. She jumped out, checked her cap was correctly positioned, the seams on her hideous lisle stockings were straight and her shoes correctly polished.
There was a miscellany of passengers, but most of them were businessmen or wealthy women returning from shopping. Half a dozen boys in blue emerged, but they were other ranks and headed immediately for the bus stop.
Then her heart sank. It wasn’t an RAF officer she was collecting but a WAAF. The woman had her kitbag over her shoulder as if it weighed nothing at all and strode towards the car. Millie wasn’t sure if she should offer to carry the bag, salute, or just remain where she was. She decided to salute.
The officer returned the gesture but her face remained unfriendly. Millie hoped this woman hadn’t come to take over command of their small contingent – but she’d obviously come to see them.
‘Corporal Cunningham, ma’am, pleased to meet you.’
‘I’ve heard about you, Cunningham. Don’t stand there gawping – open the rear door so I can stow my bag.’
Not an auspicious start. The officer didn’t identify herself and Millie certainly wasn’t going to ask her to. Should she rush around to the front passenger door and hold it open like a chauffeur? Probably – but she decided to get into the driver’s seat and let the woman find her own way.
The car dipped, the rear door slammed, the officer had got into the back. This wasn’t a good sign. Behaving as if Millie was a common taxi showed just how little she thought of her.
Keeping her eyes firmly on the road, she drove the five miles back to the base with exemplary precision. Whatever her faults, and there were probably many as far as this woman was concerned, Millie knew she was an excellent driver.
Instead of going straight through the gates as she normally did, she stopped completely. She identified herself and the guard at the gate winked at her and then waived her through. Why hadn’t he asked her passenger to show her ID, then at least Millie would have known who she was?
She didn’t ask where to drop the officer but drove across the runway to the far side of the base where the WAAF accommodation was situated. She pulled up outside what would be the officers’ accommodation.
‘This isn’t ready for occupation, ma’am, but no doubt you would like to inspect it. There are plenty of spare beds in the billet that is being used by those already here. Do you require me to remain with you or can I return to my duties? I have to take an officer to Folkestone and collect some essential lorry parts from the stores whilst at Hawkinge.’
As the woman had her kitbag, it was obvious she was intending to stay. There was an ominous silence from behind her but then the woman spoke.
‘I will be going to Hawkinge, Corporal Cunningham. I just wish to see for myself how things have progressed here. I’m reliably informed that things will be ready for the next contingent to arrive in six weeks’ time. I don’t want hundreds of girls to turn up and find things in disarray.’
Millie was already out of the car and had opened the door to allow the officer to get out. ‘In which case, ma’am, I’d be happy to show you around before we leave.’
‘I prefer to make the inspection on my own.’
Instead of waiting, Millie drove to the NAAFI van and got them to fill up her Thermos flask with tea. ‘I need a couple of sandwiches and a couple of buns to go with this. Thank you.’
When the still-anonymous officer strode out of the ablutions block, the car was waiting for her.
‘Ma’am, I haven’t had time to eat since dawn so have taken the liberty of providing us both with some lunch.’
For the first time, the woman smiled. ‘That was a kind thought, Cunningham. I, too, am much in need of sustenance. If we open all four doors, I don’t think it will be unpleasantly hot inside the car. I failed to give you my name – remiss of me. I’m Squadron Leader Smith. I will be taking over here, so I’m pleased that everything is satisfactory.’
After that, the atmosphere changed. They munched companionably and shared the flask of tea. Whilst Millie dashed to the ablutions, her mind was racing. This woman would be their commanding officer very soon and she wasn’t sure if she was pleased or terrified at the prospect.
On her return, the officer was now seated in the front. Neither of them commented on the change of position but Millie knew this was a good sign.
It was late afternoon by the time she returned to the motor pool and delivered the various boxes and packages she’d been sent to fetch. All the squadrons were present so there’d been no further emergencies in her absence. She was eager to find Di and tell her about their future queen bee.