Basham by Robert F. Clifton (types of ebook readers .TXT) 📕

quite naturally is the evidence that although unknown to them at the time, the courts of England were utilizing the Classical School. The elimination of crime by using punishment as a deterrent. Did it work? History shows us that when the convicted were executed at a public hanging, pickpockets worked the crowd. It was the same when the punishment was a public whipping. And guess what? None of these punishments deterred crime. As mentioned in some cases it increased crime.

At this time I will submit to you the question, what is a crime?” The Classical School defines crime as within the strict limitations of the law, not on the criminal. At one time there was opposition to the barbaric and arbitrary practices associated with the British court system. Quite naturally, the Positive School attacked the legal definition of crime and in its place substituted a concept of natural crime. This theory is seen as an act that offends the morals and sentiments in the community.

So, gentlemen, it appears that there is a conflict. Again, what is a crime? The most common definition of crime by the Sociological School is the definition of a crime as anti-social behavior. This then takes us to the objectives of criminology. They are and I strongly suggest that you take notes. They are, to study criminal behavior and the physical, psychological and social-economic factors behind the crime itself, how and why people commit crime.”

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Although still cold, Mildred sat at a rough hewed makeshift table out of the wind and rain inside the Salvation Army tent. She looked up as the woman who had brought her here approached carrying two bowls of hot soup. After placing one bowl in front of Mildred the woman sat down. “Here's a spoon. Eat it slow. One reason is it's hot. Second reason is if you gulps it down cause you're hungry, you'll get the collywobbles and chuck it up. Anyways, its vegetable soup, made up of canned vegetables mind you, but its hot, nutritious and free. After you eat, we'll take a look see at the pile of coats they have. There's certain to be one that fits you or at least one that comes close. You'll freeze your arse in that bum-freezer you're wearing. Better that it be a might big than a mite small. Now, what's your name?”

Mildred swallowed a spoonful of soup and answered, “Mildred.”

“You got a last name Mildred?”

“Perkins. My name is Mildred Perkins”.

“Well, I'm Helen Mathis”.

“Thank you for bringing me here Helen.”

“Think nothing of it. Seems we're all in the same boat.

What do you do Mildred?”

“I'm a social worker.”

“Really, I myself am, a beautician. At least I was until a German bomb hit the shop where I worked. Where do you work?”

“Here in London. I look after the elderly.”

“That's nice and I'm betting that like me you've got no place to live or for that matter a place to sleep tonight.”

“Yes.”

“Well, as they say, misery loves company. How's about you team up with me? Together we'll look for a place and at the same time be safe from some Joe Blogg's trying to get into our knickers. First things first, let's get you a proper coat from the pile. I don't know if it's true, but the way I hear it clothing is the next thing to be rationed.”

Out on the street again the two women began walking. Mildred was now warm, protected by the black wool coat Helen had chose for her. The rain had stopped. Still there was a threat of more bad weather to come. As far as she could see Mildred saw broken, shattered glass in the street and on the sidewalk.

The city block they were in contained many highrise buildings, structures that now if not completely destroyed lacked glass windows that has been shattered by the exploding bombs.

In the next block the two women were stopped by an air raid warden. “Excuse me ladies, but if you're looking for lodging I just got word that His Majesty's government had requisitioned all the hotel's in these parts. There's two of em up the street. I'd get a move on if I was you.”

“Thank you ducky,” said Helen as she began walking faster. Mildred found it difficult to keep up due the now, run down, heel on her left shoe. Then minutes later Helen stood at the registration desk of the Mandrake Hotel asking a man behind the counter for a room for two women. “I'm sorry Miss. All the rooms were assigned on a first come first serve basis. There are no rooms left”, said the man.

“So what you're saying is you and the government is all piss and wind. The blokes in the street tell us to go to the hotels. We go and what happens? The likes of you tell the likes of us that there ain't no rooms. Personally, I believe that you are holding rooms for the Hoity-Toity probably for a bong(bribe) fiver. That's what I think.”

“I assure you that's not the case. Every transaction is closely watched by an agent from the Home Office.”

“That right? Then show me the gaffer. I'd want to talk to him.”

“I don't see him at the moment.”

“Of course not. Tell you what. Me and her ain't leaving until we either gets a room or talks to the gent that is supposed to be making sure citizens like us are taken care of during these times. Meanwhile where's the ladies loo?”, asked Helen.

“To the left of the elevators.”

“Thanks you. We'll be right back.”

Mildred followed Helen through the main lobby to the

woman’s rest room. Once inside Helen entered a stall and closed the door. Mildred took the opportunity to use the washbasin to wash her face and hands, drying both with a paper towel. She heard the toilet flush and as Helen came out of the stall she said,” Put this bogrool (toilet paper) in your pocket book. We might need it sometime should we have to squat in an alley or the weeds.”

Back at the desk Helen looked at the desk clerk and said, “Well, what's it going to be?”

“The best I can do for you is place a mattress, pillows and blankets in the service lift. You can sleep there for the night.”

“We'll take it. Now, what about meals?”

“You're on your own. The hotel kitchen is closed. All of those staying here put up by the government will be fed when the portable kitchens get here. Whenever that will be.”

“I see. When can we go to the service lift?”

“In about an hour. By the way, you should know that in case of an air raid you are to take shelter in the hotel basement.”

“Thank you. We'll just sit here in the lobby and wait until the lift is ready. Is that alright with you, or does the chap from the Home Office have to approve that also?”

Forty five minutes later the two women stood looking at the double mattress that had been placed on the elevator floor.

“Well, it ain't much, but it's home. I don't know about you, but I'm knackered, and hungry.”

“The man at the desk said there was no telling when the kitchens will arrive. Suppose I go down the street and see what's available?”, asked Mildred.

“Sorry, I'm down to my last pound and shilling”, Helen answered.

“I have money. I'll be right back”, said Mildred picking up her suitcase.”

“How many things do you have in that bag?,” Helen asked.

“Just a few things.”

“Then instead of lugging that thing around unpack it and put your duds in your gas mask bag”.

“I'd rather not. I prefer keeping my things in the suitcase.”

“Suit yourself. I must say there are times when you act like an odd ball.”

Mildred turned and left. Outside on the street again she walked in the dark stepping over litter gathered on the sidewalk.

After walking two blocks she found a small grocery shop still open. When she walked in the bell situated above the door rang.

A little old woman came out of the back of the store and said, “Good evening. May I help you?”

“I'm looking for something to eat for me and my friend. I have my ration book,” Mildred replied.

“I'm afraid that anything that is rationed is no longer on the shelves. The best I can offer is canned, Spanish sardines. A loaf of brown bread and apples. Actually, I'm only staying open for business selling cigarettes hoping that soon my suppliers will get to me.”

“I see. I'll take two cans of sardines. Do they come with the key attached?”

“Yes, they do.”

“Good, Two cans of sardines, two apples and I'll take the loaf of bread.”

After the items were bagged Mildred paid and left the store. When she did the air raid sirens began to blare. The Wardens appeared directing those on the street and those entering the street to the nearest bomb shelter. Mildred was caught up in the wave of fast moving people all rushing to the nearest underground. She kept looking back over her shoulder for a way to go back, back to the hotel. Back to Helen.

As she descended the subway steps the familiar sounds of the anti-aircraft guns began. Then the sounds of exploding, German bombs came. Those sounds were drowned out by the tone of multiple voices, crying children and Wardens giving orders.

The attack lasted three hours, but the wardens said that there was an unexploded bomb in the street and all in the shelter was to remain until the device was rendered safe. At eight o'clock the next morning Mildred followed the long stream of weary people out of the shelter. Still carrying the groceries in one hand and her suitcase in the other she hurried to meet Helen.

She noticed the fire brigade pumping water on a large smoldering pile of concrete and lumber. She looked around not seeing anything familiar to her. A Bobby walked up to her and said, “Do you need help Miss?”

“I seem to be lost. I'm looking for the Mandrake Hotel”, she answered.

“You're looking at what's left of it. The Jerry's made a direct hit on the place, killing nearly all inside.”

“I had a friend staying there. She would have been near the service lift.”

“ Like I said, There was a direct hit. Far as I know those on the gorund floor were crushed when the rest of the building fell on them. You might be able to find out how or where they are.

They should be posting the list of dead and survivors in a few days.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Five

The Librarian

 

Alistair Basham sat at the kitchen table reading the morning newspaper. From time to time he lifted the cup of coffee from the saucer and took a sip. He was interrupted when Marjorie Helm turned from the kitchen sink and said, “Excuse me professor, but I need a moment if you please.”

Basham looked over the top of a page and replied, “What is it?”

“Well, as you know with the rationing I must shop with the butcher and green grocer assigned to me. With the war there ain't too much of either meat or vegetables. I was wondering if you could have someone prepare a garden spot in the backyard?That way we could grow what we need in times like this.”

“Hm-mm, sounds like splendid idea. Are you sure we can get the seeds?”

“Oh yes and the Ministry of Food is actually asking everyone to pitch in and grow as much as possible.”

“Then, we'll do it. Hire yourself a bloke and have him do the job. What do you plan to grow?”

“The usual things, root vegetables, beets, carrots and of course greens. Is there anything in particular you would like in the garden?”

“Anything, but broccoli. However, if you want broccoli feel free to produce it.”

“While we're on the subject the Ministry of Agriculture

suggest that the people also raise pigs, rabbits or chickens.”

“Do they also supply the food for the animals?”

“No sir.”

“That figures. I'll go for rabbits and chickens, no hogs.

Have you ever smelled pig shit? Disgusting.”

“Oh, I agree