During the Second World War, the widespread destruction of entire towns and cities became an everyday occurrence. Measures were taken to sustain the defence of the civilian population, with those same civilians being called to do their part. Men and women were recruited in local districts to serve as emergency firefighters and first responders, and as civil defence officers in workplaces. On 31 August 1939, the British Ministry of Defence organised the evacuation of six hundred and seventy-three schoolchildren out of industrial cities considered vulnerable to air assault. The operation was named Pied Piper, and would go on to see over a million mothers, children and at-risk civilians siphoned from Britain’s major cities.
Exiled to a village in the South of England, these young girls from London had decided to go out and play at skipping. Margaret and Elizabeth were not afraid of the bombardments, the sirens announcing the arrival of the Nazi bombers, or being hit by V2 rockets or firebombs. They felt safe here in this village of just a few hundred inhabitants. Here, life went on without worry. They helped around the farm, waking at dawn and enjoying the fresh country air. With their ration books they could go and claim vitamins and vegetables to help stave off TB, and on the farm they were sometimes lucky enough to get their hands on an egg or a cup of milk. Food was scarce and precious across England, but in the countryside the famine was felt less keenly. Back in London, Margaret and Elizabeth’s father smoked old cigarettes and complained about having nothing sweet to eat; he had lost weight, and had even had to go without food for several days after losing his ration tickets. Still, he thought of his wife and two girls who no longer had to shutter their windows or cower in fear at the sound of every siren, who were not living in the fear that every moment might be their last, as he did, and that thought brought him comfort. But last week the girls had been given gas masks; it seemed that the south of England was now under threat. So now they had to wear their masks to go and play in the yard. They had met up with their friends, who were also wearing their masks – better safe than sorry, after all. The masks were heavy, and rather scary, but it was important they get used to them. The girls did what they could to keep their spirits up, and this too was vital in a time of war. It was Margaret and Elizabeth’s turn to skip. The two others twirled the rope in wide circles, remembering all the happy times when they had played in the streets of London outside their flat in Kensington. Hop! They skipped as the rope came around, hop! Higher they jumped, but the rope caught Margaret. Their game was simple; one can always have fun, even in a time of war. They were gay and they laughed, even as they worried. The masks were mandatory now, for you never knew if a V2 missile might come crashing down nearby and begin spewing toxic fumes. They hurried to finish their game, as it was getting dark early these days.
“Again, again!” Margaret asked as she jumped.
“My legs are sore, I can’t!” Elizabeth laughed.
“It’s our go anyway!” another girl said.
Margaret and Elizabeth had made it to 24 jumps. It wasn’t a record; the last time they had managed 34, but then again it was a lot easier when you weren’t wearing a gas mask. But for the past week, the people living in the south of England had been living through the phoney war. German missiles hit the land with deafening explosions. The enemy was among them, though the locals could not see him. Like a postcard from the French Riviera, the missiles came from across the channel and landed on their doorsteps. “Don’t worry, the Royal Air Force is the best in the world, the beating heart of the defence of the British Empire!” Margaret called as she turned the rope. Suddenly, they heard a siren in the distance. The girls were struck with fear; they dropped the rope and ran back home. They hoped the rockets wouldn’t land in their village, and that there wouldn’t be a black-out tonight.
Alan Alfredo Geday
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