Heartwarming and emotional story of one girl's courage in WW2 by Fenella Miller (best ereader for students .TXT) 📕

He did a circuit and came in to land. He repeated this manoeuvre three times and each one was perfect. He felt as if he’d been born to fly this fighter and it made him even more determined somehow to win himself a place in one of the squadrons.

‘That was capital. Thanks so much for allowing me to take her up. She’s everything I’ve heard, and more.’ He clapped his friend on the back and Neil laughed.

‘You handled her as well as anyone in the squadron. If the Wing Co agrees I’ll see if you can borrow Digger’s kite when we go for a mock sortie later today. Digger’s wife has just produced their first sprog and he’s got compassionate leave.’

Greg couldn’t believe his luck. If he proved himself then it would make his application more attractive as he wouldn’t need to receive any further training. He and Neil spent the next couple of hours together. By the end of it he was sure he understood what he’d have to do.

‘You must keep your eyes peeled, constantly look from side to side for enemy planes. Be able to manoeuvre, spin and loop in order to evade the enemy gunners,’ Neil told him. ‘You only have a couple of minutes of ammunition so you have to make it count. Our job is to shoot down the bombers before they can drop their load.’

Neil drained his glass before continuing. ‘Talking about acrobatics reminds me of Jack Reynolds, I think he’ll make an ideal fighter. He’s had years of experience. Ellie said in her last letter he’s now stationed at Croydon and flying a Hurricane.’

For some reason hearing about Reynolds gave him an uneasy feeling. Why was his fiancée writing to another man?

He enjoyed every minute of the exercise and believed he slotted in as if already an experienced fighter pilot. The Wing Co sought him out just after they landed and said he would do his best to facilitate a transfer as Greg was exactly the sort of chap he was looking for.

That night there was a social at a nearby village hall and he had no option but to attend along with everyone else. He was also to spend the night in the bed of the absent Digger.

The hall was full of eager partygoers. There was dancing for those who wished to do so, card tables at the far end and silly party games for the children. Only tea and buns were served, but there was a convenient hostelry a few doors down and, like everyone else, he nipped down there for a quick pint every now and again.

As the event got going a group of land girls walked in – to his astonishment he recognised one of them. It was Elizabeth Hamilton, a deb he’d had a brief relationship with before he’d joined the RAF.

‘Gregory Dunlop, I can’t believe it’s you. Or should I say Flight Lieutenant Dunlop?’ Elizabeth hesitated for a second and then stepped in as if expecting him to kiss her. Instead he offered his hand and she shook it vigorously.

‘Elizabeth, I never imagined you would join something so mundane as the land army. But I must say you look very well on it.’

They stepped to one side so they could continue their conversation in private. He told her he was engaged and that his fiancée was doing something hush-hush in East Sussex. She said she’d joined up to escape a persistent suitor.

He was introduced to the other three girls and in turn he introduced them to Neil. A very pleasant evening was spent dancing and chatting. Although he’d left his old life behind he was still pleased to hear how his erstwhile friends were coping with the war.

He returned to his temporary billet three sheets to the wind and humming the hokey-cokey. Elizabeth had the day off tomorrow and they’d agreed to meet up for a picnic. He felt the same way about her as Ellie did about Jack. When he explained to Neil, his future brother-in-law told him life was too short to miss out on a bit of light relief. If his friend didn’t see any harm in seeing an ex-girlfriend then there was no need for him to feel guilty.

Twenty-eight

Ellie and her friends walked to the cliff edge to watch the appalling inferno of bombs and shells that were dropping on the BEF trapped on the beaches at Dunkirk. The fact that all three of them had been promoted to ACW1 no longer seemed important.

Wave after wave of fighters roared overhead in a desperate attempt to protect the men from the Luftwaffe.

‘I don’t see how they can survive for much longer,’ Ellie said to Daisy.

‘I know we can’t actually see what’s happening, but the flashes and explosions on the other side of the channel are quite clear.’

Mary wiped her eyes. ‘My brother’s an officer over there. My parents are beside themselves with worry. The warships won’t be able to get close enough to the beach so the men must swim. Nigel can’t swim very well.’

Ellie pointed to the sea. ‘Look at that – people have responded to the call on the wireless last night. There are hundreds of little boats heading for France. They are going to fetch the soldiers too. Maybe their help will be enough to save them.’

They remained, sitting on the grass, until it was time to return for their watch. The sky was still noisy with Spitfires and Hurricanes and she wondered if one of them was piloted by Jack or Neil.

There were now more trained radar operators so they no longer worked continuous watches. The news was more encouraging and by Tuesday, 4th of June, the newspapers were reporting that hundreds of thousands of British and French troops had been saved. Churchill was calling it a victory but Ellie didn’t think the families of those who had died would agree. She was aware just how many fighters had failed to return.

She was returning bleary