Minerva Page 4

  ‘I’ll swear the bleeders are swerving on purpose to make this ride as uncomfortable as possible!’ she shouted. ‘If we complain they’ll make it worse. I’ve met swine like them before girls. Play them at their own game. Who knows that new song? You are my sunshine? Let’s sing. If you don’t know it just La, La, until you pick up the words and she began to croon,

  You are my sunshine, my only sunshine

  You make me happy when skies are grey

  You’ll never know dear how much I love you

  Please don’t take my sunshine away

  All the girls joined in singing at the tops of their voices, clapping their hands to the rhythm. Motion sickness was forgotten and the mood had been lifted. Minerva once again remembered Martin, sitting on his rock in the sunshine, and thought a silent prayer.

  ‘Please Mr Sunshine, shine on the one I love and keep him safe.’

  The truck swung into the camp gates and braked suddenly, lurching all the girls together causing screams all round.

  ‘You rotten bleeders, we’ll get our own back!’ Vanessa shouted.

  The tailgate was lowered and the driver was grinning as he said,

  ‘Jump to it, girls, everybody out.’ A crowd had gathered to watch, as the girls clambered down, awkwardly. Some tight skirts had risen up showing stockings and suspenders, to be greeted with appreciative whistles. Minerva ignored them. She was used to ignoring wolf whistles. Vanessa hitched up her cleavage, pulled her dress down and called back a very rude reply. A female officer had arrived and she heard Vanessa’s reply, but reprimand would be kept until later. She ignored the men.

  ‘Good afternoon ladies. Welcome to R.A.F Brackston. I am Assistant Section Officer Felman. You will call me Ma’am.’ She turned to the audience.

  ‘Disperse or you will all be on a charge,’ she bawled. They all saluted and marched off and the girls giggled. ‘Do not giggle! It only encourages them. Conduct yourselves in a dignified manner and follow me,’ A.S.O. Walker told them.

  Suddenly a red MG sports car swerved through the gates and screamed to a halt. Minerva, who was the nearest, gasped, as a beautiful girl stepped out. She was wearing a green dress, which Minerva knew was silk and a lovely Mink jacket. She pulled off her silk headscarf and tossed her head and her long auburn tresses shimmered down her back. Assistant Section Officer Felman stopped and turned. She marched towards the girl.

  ‘Who might you be? Why are you late? And who gave you permission to come by car?’ she demanded. The girl glided towards her in high heeled crocodile skin shoes, holding out her hand and smiling.

  ‘Hello there, I presume that you are the boss lady. I am the honourable Victoria Jenkins-Jones, she said.

  All the girls stared. They dare not giggle. Even Vanessa was silent, trouble was brewing. The Assistant Section Officer was furious, but realised dignity must be upheld.

  ‘Pick up your bags and join the other girls Jones. Your car will be removed.’ She replied icily and continued marching towards a large building. The girls followed, but all were turning round to watch Victoria, as she struggled along with two enormous suitcases. The tired bedraggled girls were taken to a large dining hall. The smell of cooking made them realise how hungry they were.

  ‘Line up at the server, where you will receive soup and bread followed by mugs of tea and cake. I will come back in half an hour,’ the Section Leader told them. When she had gone the girls quietly received their lunch and sat down. They were all subdued and hungry. Minerva managed to stay with Vanessa, Molly and Shirley.

  ‘I say Minerva, you ain’t half got beautiful hair and it’s not out of a bottle like mine,’ Vanessa said. Minerva blushed, but she was used to people admiring her hair.

  The Honourable Victoria Jenkins-Jones came to join them. She too had been admiring Minerva’s hair and beauty. She took a dainty sip of her soup and spluttered it out,

  ‘Yuk this is disgusting!’ she said.

  ‘You’d better eat it gal. You’re in the W.A.A.F now and there will be no popping out to Harrods for delicacies’ Vanessa told her. ‘You’d better get used to it and for your information girls, Harrods is a posh shop in London, where girls like her go shopping,’

  ‘Oh are you from London too?’ Victoria asked.

  ‘Yeah, but not from the same part as you, but if we are to survive in this camp we’d better all fit together. We’re all equal at this moment.’ Vanessa said. Minerva thought about that and realised that Vanessa was right. They were all equal and she was Minerva now and about to start a new life.

  Assistant Section Officer Felman returned punctually and bawled ‘Attention!’ The girls turned to look at her.

  ‘In future when I say, Attention! That means you all stand up straight, arms by your sides and head held high. Right, are you ready? Attention!’

  The girls scrambled to attention and Victoria, with amusement, joined them.

  ‘Not bad for a start. Now there are three huts requisitioned to us. You may organise yourselves into groups of eight. At the double! That means quickly!’

  Minerva made sure Shirley and Molly stayed with her and Vanessa. Victoria decided to stay with them and three more girls made up the eight.

  ‘Get into pairs now and try and look efficient. I assure you that there will be a large unseen audience,’ the officer told them. ‘And remember dignity at all times.’

  They followed their officer to some newly erected Nissen huts at the edge of the camp. She stopped and turned thinking ‘God help me,’ as she looked at the assortment of new recruits. She also knew, that there were no uniforms yet, so the men would take it for granted, that they would be easy targets.

  ‘Right, eight of you go to each hut. Three aircraft women will be along immediately to instruct you how to make up your beds.’ The girls dispersed into three huts.

  ‘Oh my God and little fishes! What a dump,’ Vanessa exclaimed, as she flopped down on the hard bed and kicked off her shoes.

  ‘I’m not staying here,’ Victoria shrieked.

  ‘You are my girl, or you’ll be put on a charge and locked up. You’re in the W.A.A.F. now.’ Vanessa told her.

  Molly and Shirley looked as though they were about to burst into tears, so Minerva put an arm around each of them. This hut reminded her of the dormitory at the Orphanage.

  ‘Don’t worry. We’ll soon settle in and make it nice,’ she said. ‘Come along everybody, choose a bed and look we’ve each got a cupboard for our things.’

  There were four beds down each side so Vanessa, Minerva, Molly and Shirley grabbed the top four nearest the stove, leaving the bottom for Victoria and the other three girls. Minerva began to empty her suitcase and place her few belongings in the cupboard. She had been brought up like this in the Orphanage. The other girls followed suit.

  ‘I cannot put all my clothes in that disgusting cupboard,’ Victoria complained.

  ‘You won’t be allowed to keep all that lot when our uniforms arrive,’ Vanessa told her, ‘you’d better decide what you’re going to keep.’ Victoria’s early bravado was deflated, as she crumbled onto the bed. Minerva decided at that moment that she needed to give them all support. She crossed over to Victoria and sat down beside her.

  ‘Come on love we are all in this together. It’s not what you’re used to, but you must have known that it was going to be tough. Come on now. If we stick together, we’ll show them what we’re made of. There will be lots of men, waiting for us to fail. The W.A.A.F. is very new.’

  They all stared at her and Minerva was amazed, that she had made such a long speech. Vanessa jumped up.

  ‘Minerva’s right. Come on girls lets unpack. All for one and one for all, as the Three Musketeers said, and I think they were right,’ she said.

  ‘What a good idea Vanessa. Come on girls let’s form a circle and make a vow. That’s what we used to do at the mill,’ Minerva said. All the girls joined hands and made a circle and chanted, ‘All for one and one for all.’ They all began to feel better and were all p
utting their belongings in the cupboards, when the door crashed open and a severe looking woman dressed in air force blue entered.

  ‘Attention! Stand by your beds,’ she shouted. The girls quickly did as they were told. ‘I am Sergeant Benson and I am in charge of this group,’ she told them. All the girls had finished except Victoria, who was not used to putting her own clothes away.

  ‘You, what is your name? What is all this mess? You are only allowed one case,’ she said.

  ‘I am the Honourable Victoria Jenkins-Jones and I am deciding which clothes to keep here,’ Victoria replied.

  ‘Well Jones you can remove them all from that bed at once. You are about to be instructed on bed-making. You will address me Sergeant in future.’ Victoria insolently pushed her belongings back into the two cases.

  Minerva again felt to be back in the dormitory, as the Sergeant showed them the three square thin objects, which were to be their mattress. Evidently they were called ‘biscuits’. The pillows were stuffed with straw and were very lumpy and the two air force blue blankets were heavy and rough. Minerva fingered a blanket and inspected it, wondering which mill had made it. The blankets had to be folded every morning and the ‘biscuits’ placed in a pile of three.

  ‘You are responsible for keeping the stove alight. If you let it go out you will be cold. The coal is outside in a bunker. You will be issued with firewood and matches. I suggest that you take it in turns to be on stove duty.’ She told them.

  ‘Sergeant, what about curtains? Or we shall be having peeping Tom’s’ Minerva asked. The bare windows were criss-crossed with anti-bomb blast tape.

  ‘You will be issued with blackout curtains tomorrow, so here’s hoping there won’t be any German bombers coming this way tonight,’ Benson replied, ‘Don’t look so worried, I’m only joking. Be in the cook house at 6 o’clock. From now on that will be 1800 hours. Do not come out of this hut except to go to the ablutions until then.’ She turned smartly and marched out.

  The bewildered girls all slumped onto the iron beds, thoroughly dejected. Even Vanessa was quiet. Minerva was the first to move. She went across to Victoria.

  ‘Come on Victoria, if we don’t get this lot sorted you will be on a charge and being locked up will be worse than this.’

  ‘I’m off to the ablutions,’ Vanessa announced, ‘who’s coming with me?’ All the other girls volunteered leaving Minerva and Victoria to sort out the clothes. Minerva had never seen such beautiful clothes, but being a weaver she recognised the quality of the cloth.

  ‘Wow Victoria! What beautiful clothes. You had better keep the warm ones and send the flimsy ones home. Oh my word, look at this,’ and Minerva picked up a soft checked, worsted skirt. ‘This worsted was woven in weaving shed number seven at Perseverance Mill in Heatonfield. I wove some of this myself.’ Victoria was astonished and very impressed.

  ‘How on earth did you learn to do that?’ she asked.

  ‘I was taught how to weave on a loom.’ Victoria held the skirt in front of Minerva.

  ‘You must have it Minerva, it will fit you. You are clever to make this. It is beautiful quality. I’ve got plenty more skirts.’ Minerva was tempted to refuse, but common sense prevailed.

  ‘Thank you very much Victoria. Now look, pack all this pile back into that case and all these can go in your cupboard. I don’t think you will be allowed to wear these flimsy undies though. They’re very pretty.’ Minerva said and blushed as she imagined herself wearing these as she pressed her body against Martin Moxon and he kissed her deeply.

  ‘Here take some of these panties, nobody will know that we are wearing them and I have far too many,’ Victoria insisted, ‘thank you for helping me, I have never had to put away my own clothes since I was at boarding school.’ Minerva was astounded, which made her think that Martin did not put away his own clothes either.

  ‘Come along now Victoria, we’ve finished, let’s go and inspect the ablutions.’

  When they arrived it was bedlam in there, as all the new recruits were present. The square brick building had been divided into twelve cubicles, so that there were six lavatories and six baths. At both ends there were wash basins. The floor was concrete and there was a wooden bath mat by each bath. There were no plugs and no locks on the lavatory doors. Victoria was disgusted. She had never seen anything so crude and basic.

  ‘The offenders in his Majesty’s prisons must have better facilities than this,’ she said.

  ‘Well we’ll just have to sing when we’re sat on the throne,’ Vanessa remarked. ‘ I expect we’ll be issued with regulation washing equipment and a plug. At least the water is very hot.’

  ‘We will have to have some kind of timetable when there are twenty four of us and only six facilities,’ Minerva said, remembering her early life in the Orphanage.

  ‘That’s a good idea Minerva. I vote Minerva is in charge of the ablutions timetable.’ Vanessa said. ‘Everyone who agrees raise your hand.’ Twenty three hands shot up. ‘Right, it’s carried. You are the ablutions boss Minerva.’

  ‘Alright, when we can get some paper I’ll make a chart. We’ll take it in turns to be first; hut number one, hut number two and hut number three,’ she replied.

  ‘It’s nearly six o’clock and I’m starving,’ someone said, so all the new recruits made their way to the cookhouse as instructed. The three sergeants were waiting for them.

  ‘Sit down in the corner, all of you, where you will find two dozen knives, forks and spoons. You will keep these for the rest of your service career. You will guard them with your lives or suffer the consequences. They are called irons and you will wash them on your way out. Quick March! At the Double! Halt at the table! Irons pick up!’ The bewildered girls obeyed instructions, bumping into each other and shrieking with laughter.

  ‘Quiet!’ all three sergeants bawled.

  ‘Another performance like that and you all will be on jankers,’ one of them shouted. ‘Now line up. Irons in your left hand. Collect your dinner and sit.’

  ‘Woof Woof!’ someone barked as the chastised recruits followed instructions. Food was dolloped onto their plates and they returned to their table. Some of the girls were homesick now and beginning to regret their haste in volunteering. Minerva looked up and down the table realizing this. She felt settled. She was going to succeed in the W.A.A.F. She had always had to stand on her own two feet.

  The men were all getting their food now and staring at the girls as though they were exhibits in the zoo. The girls ignored them. At least they had been placed a good distance away from the men. Sergeant Benson stood at the end of their table and announced,

  ‘You will now return to your huts, where you will be issued with your ablution kit.’ The girls left the table rinsed their irons and strolled out, nonchalantly, ignoring the wolf whistles, but could not stop laughing when they were outside in the darkness. Some of the laughter was verging on hysteria, as they trudged back to their huts. Minerva had fed the stove before she and Victoria left, so it greeted them cheerfully. They sat on their beds waiting.

  ‘Why did you volunteer Victoria?’ Vanessa asked.

  ‘I wanted to escape. I felt like a prize mare being paraded at Ascot and I did not fancy any of the stallions. The W.A.A.F. is something new and I thought that it would be thrilling .So far it is not. I almost wish that I had not volunteered.’ Victoria replied.

  ‘Did you meet the King and Queen Victoria’ Minerva asked.

  ‘Oh yes I did my debutante curtsy ‘ The girls were very impressed, but just then the door banged open and Sergeant Benson entered holding eight Air Force blue bags containing their ablution kit, which she handed out.

  ‘ I suggest that you use these at once and then settle down. Breakfast is at seven hundred hours. Be in the lecture room at eight hundred hours.’ she said and smartly turned on her heel and departed, leaving the girls to obey with mixed emotions.

  ‘Right girls let’s get to the ablutions first,’ Minerva said. Later when the lights were out many a sil
ent tear was shed into the lumpy pillows. Minerva kissed the photographs of her dead parents, but it was Martin Moxon’s face she could see in her dreams.

  Chapter 4

  Minerva awoke early as usual and for a few seconds was disorientated. She sat up and shivered. It was six o’clock and the others were fast asleep. Quietly she dressed and tiptoed out to the ablutions. It was deserted. Singing ‘You are my sunshine’ Minerva quickly washed herself all over. Feeling refreshed, she dressed again and dashed back to the hut. They were still fast asleep. She raked out the stove and relit it. Good, everyone was waking.

  ‘Come on everybody it’s 6:30. Breakfast is at seven o’clock,’ she said.

  ‘Flipping heck, it’s still the middle of the night,’ Vanessa muttered.

  Mary and Molly sat up, but Victoria turned over. The other girls Angela, Christine and Patricia groaned and stretched.

  ‘I’m just going to wash my mucky hands. The stove is burning nicely,’ Minerva told them and left the hut.

  When she came back Victoria was still asleep. She pulled off her blankets.

  ‘Get up Victoria or you’ll be on a charge, if you are late for the lecture!’ she said. Victoria moaned again.

  ‘Come on love you’re in the W.A.A.F now. Get some clothes on and get across to the ablutions.’ Minerva helped her to get dressed and pushed her out of the door, then folded her blankets and put her three ‘biscuits’ in a pile, as they had been instructed. It was ten minutes to seven and the hut was in chaos. Quickly she went round all the other beds folding the ‘biscuits’ and the blankets. Again she was reminded of her early training at the Orphanage. Sitting on her bed, in the quiet hut, she wondered if Martin had to fold his ‘biscuits’ and blankets. The other girls came back to the hut.

  ‘It is absolutely disgusting in there,’ Victoria grumbled and the others agreed.

  ‘Good old Minerva,’ Vanessa said, ‘it’s nice and warm in here. I feel like getting back into bed.’ Then she noticed that all the beds were made. ‘Our fairy godmother has been girls, all our beds are made,’ she added.