Erika- A War torn Love

Chapter 1

The rest of that day and indeed the following week went by in a blur, with reports of German soldiers advancing on Poland and British and French Army's gathering.

It was Thursday the night of the dance which of course was now cancelled on account that the town needed to be ready. Ready for what I was unsure, I had heard rumours in school about being ready for British bombers, but according to Fritz our town was yet to receive an air raid siren. It was funny really because although there had been reports of war over the last two weeks we hadnt really seen any effects yet. Apart from the dance being cancelled!

Fritz was still at home, although would spent many more hours away at his SS camp.  I sat in the garden dreaming about the dance that I should have been at that night, still not quite sure really why it had needed to be cancelled. Faintly I could hear my father and Fritz talking, then louder; great, more shouting in the house. That was my reason for sitting in the garden, to escape my father and Fritz. Since that fateful day when Hitler's message was broadcast they had again and again argued in the lounge about the merits of war. I dont think I had ever heard my father speak in the tone previously reserved for me to Fritz, yet since the announcement of war it was a nightly occurrence. He was angry because he knew what war meant, the loss, loss of men sent to fight and of innocent people hurt by the destruction of the fighting. He couldnt understand why Fritz wanted so badly to be part of it. I guess looking back, nor could I, as I had no desire for war and fighting like Fritz, I just wanted to enjoy myself, something which since the war was announced I had not done at all because of everything being needlessly CANCELLED!!!

As I sat listening to the noise of their argument, occasionally making out some words I picked Blackberries straight from the vine. September was the time for the best fruit, although screening was essential as it also was the peak time for maggots and insects to inhabit the fruit.  I dont know how many Blackberries I ate, but I felt glad I had not eaten desert that night. Our family really was lucky. As my father owned so much land, we had little need to buy foods, instead growing most of what we needed and storing it throughout the year in the cellar. Therefore we often had desert. Many families in our town unfortunately could not afford deserts; they were still somewhat rationed from the effects of the First World War. As I heard the argument dying down inside, and felt positively full with blackberries, I began to walk towards the house.

As I took my first step I heard an unfamiliar hum on the horizon. With every step towards the house it became louder. Once when I was a little girl my grandfather had told me of his first account with a bomb, hearing a hum which gradually got louder, until there was an almighty explosion. I remembered this story as I got closer to the house, the hum now deafening like thunder. Instinctively I threw my hands over my ears and let out an almighty scream. At that moment I realised I had remembered the story of my grandfather as a warning, this was a bomb, I was sure. I decided I did not have time to get to the house so I threw myself to the floor. I hit it so hard I felt sure I must have broken something. At that moment I thought of whether it would be painful when the bomb exploded, or maybe it had already and that I was now dreaming. I knew that out in the open like this I was sure to die. My heart pounded as my thoughts turned to Fritz and my father, hoping they were ok. Had they got to the cellar, surely they would have done, after all my father lived through the previous war, so knew what to do. Then I thought they might not have heard the hum, they were arguing, there was no siren to warn them.

I lay there for what seemed like an hour, waiting for the explosion, but it never came. Then I realised the noise was back to the unfamiliar hum which had first alerted me. Was it an air raid siren, surely not people in the town had hummed the noise of a siren, this wasnt it and anyway Fritz had told me we did not have one in the town yet.

Erika, ERIKA! I heard my fathers voice, what-ever has happened, why are you on the floor girl?

Instantly I felt my eyes well up, I had not cried in front of my father since I was ten, but now I could not stop the tears from coming.  As he helped me up he did something that he had not done for a very long time, he embraced me and stroked my long hair. As I sobbed in his arms I smelled his dusky smoked clothes, not from sitting in front of the fire, but from the cigarettes he smoked. I felt like I had been saved, saved from certain death.

In that moment my father must have realised what had happened to me. He asked if I thought the planes were a bomb?

Planes, why hadnt I realised they were planes?

I had never heard a plane before that's why, they were flying in packs, low over our town, hence the noise getting louder.  I looked up at my father and simply nodded my head, unable to speak. I have never seen so much compassion in my fathers eyes for me as on that night. Perhaps he experienced a similar event in the 1st world war, or simply knew the destruction war could have. I didnt want to ask his reason because in that moment all could think was how safe I felt and that I never wanted him to let go.