First Day in Britain

First Day in Britain                                    word count 653

Private Charles Wolfe leaned against the rail of the Queen Mary, watching the coast of Britain grow closer.  He didn’t know for sure how many American soldiers were on board, but right now there seemed to be a million or more on the deck, each one trying to get a glimpse of the London port.

It was the summer of 1942.  Private Wolfe was one of the many who signed up for the military after the bombing of Pearl Harbor.  Charles had joined the Army Air Corps.  As he stood there on deck in his khaki uniform, the wind played with his brown hair around his garrison cap.  He stood there holding the same roll that all the other soldiers carried; a roll containing toiletries and a change of underwear.

Once the Queen Mary docked, there was a surge of moving men.  With the crowded conditions, Charles found himself pressed against the edge of the gangplank.  To avoid falling, he grabbed the chain with both hands, and his roll fell into the harbor. 
The splash made him feel sick.  Without that roll, he could not prepare to report to his unit.

Everything else he owned, like all the other soldiers, was in their rucksacks.  The army had collected them all, and would deliver them to the base at Daws Hill before they arrived there. 

The soldiers stood in formation, and were marched to the hotels that they were to stay at until the buses arrived the next afternoon.  Once they were assigned a room, they were released to go rest.  Charles decided to go see if he could replace the items he had lost.
“Where are you going?” one of his platoon members asked.  Charles just waved and went on.

He meandered down the street until he found an apothecary.  From the display in the window, he could tell that he could get a least part of what he needed here.

“Ello, Yank,” Charlie heard, as his eyes adjusted to the dimness.  “Ow can I ‘elp you?”

“Well, I need to replace some items I lost getting off the ship.”  Charles spoke slowly and deliberately, having been a stutterer in his youth.  Although he had a soft Tennessee drawl, the Cockney shopkeeper had no trouble understanding him.

“Lost yer roll, did ya?  Well not the first one ta do that, I kin tell ya.  Got maybe four or five comb in ever time a ship combs in.  Well comb on, I gots ever thing ya need.”

Charlie relaxed as the friendly Brit helped find everything.  He paid the man, but was still chatting with him, when a loud siren split the air.  Charles stood shock still, but the shopkeeper grasped his arm.  “Well, comb on then.  The Nasties are bombin’ us again.”

Charlie followed the man into the shelter.  To his surprise, all the people seemed undisturbed by the raid.  “Oy, it’s not that,” the shopkeeper explained.  “We all lived through the blitz bombin’ an’ these raids ain’t as bad.  Sure things get blown up, boot it ain’t like it’s goin’ on day an’ night.”

The bombs made the earth shake.  The Cockney beside him remained calm.  “Well, thot sounded close, mebe a street or two over.  I expect thot the shop’s fine.” 

When they heard the all clear, Charles followed the Brits out of the shelter.  He stood blinking in the sunlight.  There was a lot of dust in the air.  Belatedly, Charles put his garrison cap back on and followed the shopkeeper back to his street.

Charles remembered how to get back to his hotel, but as he turned the corner, he could see firefighters filling the street.  As he got closer, he could see faces in the crowd he knew, so he hurried toward them.  That was when he realized what had happened.  The very hotel he was assigned to was now rubble thanks to the Luftwaffe.