“Oh, he’s that captain with the Eighty-Second Airborne I met at Norman’s garage. He offered us a ride too,” I said. “But he’s kind of a grump.”
“He can’t be all bad if he offered to get us a ride,” Dottie said.
“I guess,” I said with a sigh.
I didn’t feel like talking about my discussion with him earlier in the night, especially in front of all the girls in the back of the RAF truck. I was pretty sure Martha and Blanche had each had one drink too many because they were acting like it was a party on wheels. We were totally exposed, with no helmets, but they just kept laughing, yelling, and whistling at all the soldiers we passed.
The sirens continued to blare as our RAF driver flew through the streets, which were packed with people and vehicles trying to get to safety. I couldn’t hear the now-familiar rumble of the buzz bomb, but there was an undeniable tension in the air. London knew what was coming.
Chapter Ten
We made it back to 103 Park Street in no time, and Harry Westwood and the RAF driver helped all eleven of us jump out of the back of the truck. We hurried inside to get our gas masks and prepare to sleep in the basement if necessary.
“I’ll see you again soon,” Harry said to Viv, who was the last one out. He held her hand for a few seconds longer than was necessary.
“I won’t hold my breath,” Viv said with a wink and a smile.
When we entered the foyer, chatting and laughing, Miss Chambers and Liz Anderson were standing there waiting for us. We could hear footsteps and general chaos coming from the rooms upstairs.
“What’s going on?” I asked. The rest of the group had gone quiet and seemed to have sobered up on the spot. Miss Chambers looked furious.
“What’s going on is the city is under attack,” Miss Chambers said. “What’s going on is we’ve been waiting for you all to get back for over an hour. You’ll be leaving in your Clubmobiles tonight. Although I seriously question if some of you should be going at all.”
She looked at me when she said this, and I started to stare down at the floor but thought better of it and just returned her gaze, unblinking. I would show her. We would show her.
Meanwhile, everyone started asking questions, raising their voices as they tried to talk over each other. Liz Anderson raised her hand for quiet.
“Let me explain,” she said in a calm, measured voice. She didn’t appear the slightest bit rattled by our late arrival. “With the reports coming in regarding the barrage of V-1s that may be raining down on the city at any moment, we think the safer option is to head out to the Midlands tonight. We’ll be meeting your assigned drivers at Camp Griffiss. I hope to God you’re already packed because you’ve only got twenty minutes to get changed and gather all of your gear. Keep your helmets near you. We’ll ring the bell if we all need to head to the basement.” She clapped her hands together. “Now get moving, and I’ll see you downstairs in twenty.”
Frankie led us all in a mad dash up the stairs to our rooms. It was mayhem on the upper two floors as girls in various states of dress ran in and out of rooms, packing and getting organized. Footlockers, musettes, helmets, and gas masks were piled up outside some doors, all ready to go. You could feel the nervous anticipation, excitement, and fear in the air.
Dottie kept running to the window in our dorm room to listen for the too-familiar sound of V-1s as we changed and gathered our things. Viv was not completely packed, so I helped shove the rest of her belongings into her footlocker.
“Dottie, what did you say to Joe after I left you two?” I asked.
“He said he really liked me. He thought I was so beautiful,” she said. “And I said, ‘Thank you for the compliment, but what were you saying about your girl back home?’
“He thinks he loves her, had plans to marry her eventually. But he tried to convince me that since he’s going to be away from her a long time, shouldn’t we have fun in the moment because we’re two people that like each other? And then he tried to kiss me. I excused myself and asked that young kid to dance with me to end the conversation.”
“You made that kid’s night,” Viv said, laughing.
“I think I did,” Dottie said with a smile. But then her smile faded. “I still have a terrible crush on Joe. He’s handsome and so talented. And from the start, it was so easy to talk to him—you both know that never happens for me. But what kind of guy is telling his girl back home that he loves her while trying to kiss another one over here?”
“Good point. You did the right thing,” I said. “And we’re leaving anyway.”
“True,” she said with a sigh. “I can’t help thinking about what it would be like to kiss him, though.”
“Plenty of fish in the war, Dots. Fish that don’t think it’s okay to be unfaithful to their girl back home,” Viv said.
“Five minutes!” Miss Chambers yelled up the stairs. “Trucks arriving in five.”
We gathered up all of our gear, and out of habit I reached down to feel the letter in the bottom of my musette bag. Except I didn’t feel it. I put my things down and opened the bag to get a better look.
“Fi, come on,” Dottie said. “What’s the matter?”
“The envelope with Danny’s last letter to me isn’t in my bag,” I said, feeling frantic. “I don’t know where I could have put it. It’s not here.”
Viv and Dottie dropped their things and started checking around the room, under the beds and in their own things. The letter was nowhere.
“I can’t believe I lost it,” I said, blinking back tears. “It’s the last letter I have from him. How could I be so careless?”
“Go easy on yourself,” Viv said. “We’ve been on the go since we left Boston. It’s hard to keep track of everything.”
“Yes, but it isn’t like I lost a pair of socks,” I said. “This matters.”
“Ladies! Our rides are here,” Liz called from downstairs.
“We’ve got to go,” Dottie said, taking my hand. “You told me you hadn’t read it in a while because it made you too sad.”
“I hadn’t read it since we were on the Queen Elizabeth.”
“Ladies, what are you doing? You’re about to miss your ride.” Liz stood in our door, breathless. She looked at me. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes,” I said. “I . . . I lost something, but maybe it’s stuffed in the bottom of my footlocker or somewhere else in my stuff.”
“Well, come on, then,” Liz said, her impatience evident as she grabbed some of our gear and headed out the door.
I knew it was gone. But maybe Dottie was right. The letter had been like a weight, heavy in my musette bag, sadness and grief emanating from its tear-stained pages. If I was going to do this job right, maybe it was time to lighten my load a little. At least I still had the photograph of him.
We looked around our dorm room one last time, but I knew we had to leave. I bit my lip to hold back tears as we headed downstairs.
The three of us stood in front of our Clubmobile, the Cheyenne, with all of our gear, listening to the incredible snoring coming from the vehicle’s cab. It was loud and nasal, punctuated by an occasional snort. Jimmy English, our designated British driver, was sound asleep, slumped over the steering wheel.
“I’m not sure I’ve ever heard someone snore that loud,” I said.
“I could hear my father from three rooms over, but this man is worse,” said Dottie. She tsk-tsked. “His poor wife.”
We had arrived at Camp Griffiss minutes earlier with the rest of the girls. In addition to the eight Clubmobiles in Group F, there were two cargo trucks for supplies and a jeep and driver for Liz. We had just said our good-byes to Blanche, Martha, and Frankie as they drove away in their Clubmobile, the Uncle Sam, with their driver, a short, chubby fella named Trevor.
The air raid sirens were still blaring, and you could hear the occasional sounds of the ack-ack. We hadn’t come close to any buzz bombs yet, but that didn’t mean we wouldn’t. I wanted to get out of the city as fast as we possibly could, which meant waking Jimmy English or driving the Clubmobile myself. I climbed up so I could reach into the window of the driver’s side and tap him on the shoulder.
“Mr. English, hello? Time to wake up,” I said in his ear. He responded with a loud, rumbling snore that reeked of alcohol.
“Oh God, he smells like he bathed in a tub of whiskey,” I said, making a sour face at Viv and Dottie.
“You’re joking,” Viv said. “He’s passed out drunk? That’s fabulous. He’s going to be in great shape to drive us over a hundred miles in a blackout.”
“We’re the last Clubmobile here,” Dottie said, as we watched the seventh Clubmobile drive away. “What are we going to do?”
“We’re going to get the hell out of here somehow,” I said. This time I stepped up to the cab, grabbed his shoulder, shook him, and in a very loud voice spoke directly into his ear. “Jimmy. Hello, Jimmy! Wake up, time to go.”
He opened one eye and looked at me with a frown.
“What the hell do you want?” he said, in a Cockney accent like Norman’s.