This chapter begins with Pip's mother editing his previous log entry. In the next chapter which I will start writing later today she finds herself on one of her son's musical time travel excursions.
EDITORS NOTE
Did my son write that ? Of course
he did but go back to what he wrote on Monday 17th September
and compare it with yesterday, Day Eleven of his blog, Thursday 27th
September 2017. I have not edited single
word of what he wrote yesterday.
I need to speak to my mother
today. She is an accountant and manages my father’s fortune, she also sorts out
the tax on my royalties, now she is going to need to take care of Pip’s money.
Ours is a bit of an odd
family. My husband lives for his work. I love him, of course I do, but he lives
in his own world and only lets each one of us into that world when he wants to.
Three sons who sort of orbit round us. Two clever young men at university and
one pure genius.
I am getting closer to Philip,
Pip, at least I hope I am. Richard and Alex are friends but I would not say
they are close. Could it be through Pip that all three become close.
So Pip what are you going to
get up to today ? I am going to do a lot
of thinking today, I will also do a bit of research as I think I am going join you
and become a vegan.
Day Eleven Thursday 27th
September 2017
“Good morning Pilot Officer Johnson,
thanks for dropping by.”
“My pleasure Wing Commander.”
“I know you and your crew are
not on ops today but you may like to stick around. We have a special guest
coming to the base later today and I thought it would be nice if she presented
you with your DFC.”
“Thank you Wing Commander.”
“Lighten up Pilot Officer, or
may I call you Philip ? It is not every
Lancaster pilot in bomber command who has a medal pinned on their chest by The
Forces Sweetheart.”
My crew were all still on the
base, when I told them the news every one of them changed their plans. Was that
to support me or was it to listen to the singing of Vera Lynn ?
“Congratulations.”
“Thank you Dickie.” Flight Sergeant Richard (Dickie) Williams,
the signaller on my aircraft.
“Perhaps we should take bets
on how soon you make it to Flight Lieutenant.”
It wouldn’t be long, I knew
that. Promotion was rapid, everything depended on how many lost their lives so
dragging those left up the ladder of promotion. I’d make it all the way to Wing
Commander if I could keep myself and my crew safe during our nightly raids.
Life expectancy in Bomber Command was short.
“So what’s your favourite Vera
Lynn song ?”
“I am not sure if I have one,
I like them all. What about you ?”
“The White Cliffs Of Dover and
Berkeley Square.”
“A nightingale sang in
Berkeley Square.” I started to sing the words.
“One day when this war is over
I will find my very own nightingale.”
“As I bring us all in after a
raid The White Cliffs Of Dover are a welcome symbol meaning that we are all
safe. In my head I silently sing Vera’s song.”
“What will you do when the war
is over Pip ?”
“I do not have any idea.
Flying is all I know about, what else could I do ? What about you Dickie ?”
“When I am hitting the morse
code key it’s like I am tapping out music. I think if I survive this war I would
like to do something with music.”
“Who knows what will happen to
any of us.”
The whole base was dancing
with excitement as we all awaited with excitement Vera Lynn spending time with
us.
“How old are you Pilot Officer
?”
“Twenty Mam.”
“Mam ! The name is Vera.”
Was I really in the presence
of The Forces Sweetheart ? Was she really speaking to me ?
“Pilot Officer I cannot tell
you how proud it makes me feel to be here presenting this medal to a hero, a
real hero.”
She pinned the Distinguished
Flying Cross onto my uniform. Vera Lynn, The Forces Sweetheart, then kissed me
on the cheek. She really did.
“This is for you Pilot Officer
or may I call you Pip ?”
She put something into my
hand. I thanked her, put in my pocket and saluted.
Back now at home in 2017 I
took it out of my pocked and looked at the gift. A photograph of Vera Lynn. On
the back she had written: Pilot Officer Johnson THANK YOU for letting me
present you with The Distinguished Flying Cross. The whole country thanks you.
It was signed Vera.
Now one hundred years old I wonder
if Dame Vera Lynn remembers giving me that photograph. I think she does.
No comments:
Post a Comment