Archdeacon's Tale V

EAST TRENT CHURCHES
Besthorpe, Clifton, Collingham,
Girton, Harby, Holme, Langford, South Scarle, Thorney, Winthorpe

The Archdeacon's Tale! (A World War II Story) By J Eric Ashton

Part V: Flying High!

On cue, the undulating air-raid sirens wailed their fateful warning, and the throb of aircraft engines was heard as the Luftwaffe started arriving over the city. Civil defence units raced into appointed positions, and anti-aircraft batteries opened fire. Waves of bombers - Droning Dorniers, Hunting Heinkels, Jugulating Junkers, and Shrieking Stukas, with their Messerschmitt fighter escorts - were attacked by squadrons of Royal Air Force fighters: Spitfires and Hurricanes. 'Was Rod among them?' she wondered. But the enemy drew inexorably on. 'What', she pondered in a moment of reflection, 'were two sets of brave boys doing slugging it out this way? To what purpose? Were they simply seeking personal glory, slaking the thirst of an ambitious superior, satiating the appetite of a frenzied dictator; or was it something more profound?' Jim used to declare: "It would be better if they played football against each other, like we did between the trenches during the last war". Tonight's attack was directed at the East End of London and the docks area. The incendiary and high explosive bombs rained down, thick and fast, creating swathes of devastation and havoc in their wake. Gladys grasped her soap and said her usual prayer.

Suddenly, amid the mayhem, the whistle, then scream, of a descending bomb broke through. It smashed into the building where Gladys and others lived, exploding on impact. Her beautiful white towel was blown into the air. The building was shattered. Ceilings and walls collapsed. Smoke, flames, concrete and brick dust rose into the air. The block of flats was completely destroyed in the blast. An Air Raid Warden nearby observed the scene. He described how, as he witnessed the exploding chaos, a bath full of water containing a naked lady came sliding down the rubble of the devastated building and landed with a crash in the street below. A white towel floated down beside her. He quickly ran over to discover the woman alive. Fiercely clutching her tablet of soap, she was still sitting in her bath, starkers, severely shocked, and covered with grime. She was also very bruised, shaken and indignant at being disturbed in such a manner! She was soon wrapped up in a warm blanket and taken to a nearby church hall for medical attention, a badly needed clean up, and an even more badly needed cup of tea,

Gladys' friends and family remonstrated with her for being so obstinate. Her home was destroyed. Everyone in the flats, they said, had been killed. They said it was a miracle she was still alive. They said she ought to have changed the time for her bath, and retired to the air-raid shelter. They said she had only survived by the 'Luck of the Devil'. But they were so relieved she had survived, their appreciation unexpectedly manifested itself in initial anger and irritation! Anger at what? Irritation with whom? Later it was learned that the air-raid shelter had also taken a direct hit, with devastating consequences for all inside.

But she had her own ideas about how and why she had lived to tell the tale! The following morning Brian was in his Vicarage allotment (part of the 'Dig for Victory' campaign). Spade in hand, he was leading a working party who were filling in a bomb-crater and repairing their ruined tool-shed. As soon as the news about Gladys' flats arrived he hurried to the bombsite. There he found a bemused Luke wandering aimlessly about the devastated area, near to a smashed fragment of wall with remnants of photos and a Union Flag picture clinging to it. After cleaning him up and feeding him at the Vicarage, Brian took him to see Gladys who was recovering in hospital. The Ward Sister said that she was still rambling incoherently following her nasty shock. "However", she declared, "it will do her good to see you, and be reunited with her 'lost' cat". They entered the ward and Luke passionately sprang over to her. Overjoyed to meet each other, Gladys and Luke showed their mutual affection as only true lovers can, with tears, hugs and miaows. Brian then listened to her account of the incident. At the moment of impact, she insisted, a figure in white appeared and tenderly took her hand; and Jim was smiling lovingly towards her over its shoulder. As she drifted out of the building the figure glided away from her, but retained a firm hold on her hand; and Jim's face grew clearer and his look more reassuring. "I know what people are saying about my towel, the soap in my hand, and the Warden on watch below - but . . .!" Then, with a graciously quizzical look and a twinkly smile, Gladys said: "Well, I was the one who was there you know. I know what I saw. And now I'm here, aren't I?" And, after a thoughtful pause, she added: "By the way Vicar, will you please give my very sincere apologies to the Queen - we'll have to have our cup of tea another time, when it's more convenient m'dear!"

Footnote 1: The Archdeacon's Tale! by J Eric Ashton is a tapestry woven around a number of factual wartime occurrences, including an incident described by Archdeacon Brian Woodhams that was incorporated into one of his famous sermons. Return to story.

Footnote 2: Archdeacon Brian Watson Woodhams of Newark, who retired (well, sort of retired!) to live in the village of Collingham, was a well-loved Anglican Minister, Rotarian, and Probian. He was also an exceptional after-dinner speaker. Occasionally he would slip an appropriate story into one of his sermons, of which he was an equally popular raconteur. Return to story.

Footnote 3: Vera Woodhams assured the Author in May 2004 that the main facts of the London incident, incredible though they may seem, were absolutely true. She said they epitomised that fundamental grit of people when faced with extreme conditions such as the 1940s' London blitz. Jim's character is constructed around a North-Staffs Regiment (later Derbyshire Yeomanry) veteran of the First World War, who lived to the ripe old age of 86; and who rarely, but invariably jocularly, spoke about his wartime experiences. The Merchant Navy narrative was inspired by a story told to us by Revd George Munn, Vicar of Claypole, near Newark. The mining village episode* is based on a recollection by ex-RAF officer Rex of Newark Probus Club. The RAF firing range 'accident'? Well, Sqd Ldr Syd Hudson of Cornwall, knows the details; and its essence is supported by information from Fl Lt Roy Hill of Girton, near Newark, in his wonderful book, Survivor. The Newark cycling 'event' was told to the author personally by Katie (See, was that her real name?). And how did the author know about the Coventry bombing details? Well, he was there! Any inaccuracies or embellishments in The Archdeacon's Tale! are entirely attributable to the Author's declining memory banks, and here and there a soupçon of imagination!

Footnote 4: If anyone can tell us anything more about this (or any other) Brian Woodhams' story, we would be delighted to hear from them. Please get in touch.

Footnote 5: Have you spotted the deliberate mistake* in The Tale? If you haven't, and are bursting to know the answer, double-click the following block to see what it is:

BevinBoysWeren'tIntroducedUntil1943!!!

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