Life on the Home Front

Violet knew he couldn’t be trusted, but something about the handsome stranger drew her in all the same

- Jessica Wilkinson

April 1944

Bobby inched his way carefully through the throng of children that filled the train carriage and settled himself in a spot near the window. Turning his face to look out at the platform, he saw mothers waving tearful goodbyes to their children. But not Bobby’s mother. His last memory of her had traumatised him into silence.

They had done well to make it this far without getting hit. The first two years of the war had been particularly intense, but as time wore on, the bombing had become less frequent and perhaps they had become slightly complacent because one day the air-raid siren came too late. Bobby, who had been sent to the corner shop on an errand, could do nothing but watch, powerless to help his mother as their home tumbled down around her.

The shrill sound of the train whistle bought Bobby back to the present. With his mother gone and his father away fighting there was no choice but for him to be evacuated. Soon he would be living in a place unfamiliar to him, with strangers, and Bobby had never felt more frightened or alone as he did in that moment.

Bobby had never felt more frightened or alone

The US Army jeep rattled its way down the farm track, hitting a rut in the road as the young American private who was driving it found himself distracted by Nancy who, true to form, smiled and waved. Private Spencer returned her smile, revealing neat white teeth as he lifted his hand and saluted her.

‘Do you think you could keep your eyes on the road, Private,’ Mrs Fairfax said drily.