Norma Rogers Ch. 07

The continuation of Norma's story after meeting Rudi in Ireland for Military Intelligence. This isn't intended to be a sexually charged story, just the life of a young mother, separated from her husband by thousands of miles, trying to contribute to the eventual victory of the Allied forces over Nazi Germany, while at the same time raising and protecting her two children. All characters are the product of the writer's imagination and bear no relationship to any particular person alive or dead. The story is the property of the writer and may not be used in any way without the writer's permission. As my volunteer editor yellowperil2 has been extremely busy making sure that he has a good retirement, I have to admit that any fault lies at my door and nobody else's

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Over the holiday, I talked things over with Mhairi and John, and as my dilemma was by then obvious to Mum and Dad, I told them some of what was happening and why. Mum wasn't surprised; she had thought it obvious from the beginning that there was more behind our fast trip than just the Christmas holiday. She assured me that they supported me, and if necessary would look after the children. My father was a little upset, as he felt he should have been helping me when I was going to the meeting. With their help I thought things over for several days, then on the 29th, I called Charles. "Commander Philips, this is Norma Rogers, I have thought things over and as you recommended we will travel home at the same time. We will meet you at the Gresham Hotel as you requested."

He replied, "Thanks for taking my advice; I'm sure you'll be happy with the arrangements I've made. I'll say goodbye for now and see you in the lounge at the Gresham at 4 pm on the 2nd."

We spent a very pleasant New Year's Eve, with my in-laws and their neighbours, dancing and singing the old Irish songs, and we celebrated the beginning of 1944 with a little more hope, than we had for the last couple of years. We had no idea of the monumental events that the year would bring. After a day to recover from New Year, early on January 2nd we set off for Dublin, arriving at the Gresham early in the afternoon. After we registered, we cleaned up the travel stains, and I left the two grandmothers drinking room service tea and playing with the babies. The Dad's had disappeared somewhere off on their own without telling us, so I headed down to the residents lounge.

When I got there, Charles Philips was already there, seated at a table. To my surprise my father and father in law were at another table with glasses of Guinness parked in front of them. Charles stood, held a chair for me and saw me seated, and then he told me he had ordered Afternoon Tea for us. We were served quickly, and once the waiter had left he began to tell me what had been arranged. He sat, looked directly over at my dad and John then turned to me. "You didn't really need an escort you know." He said with a grin.

"Believe me I had no idea what they were planning, but if I needed a guard, I don't think I could do better."

"No you couldn't, I have seen both their war records, and I'm very happy that they are with you and provide that extra protection for you and the children.

I have heard more from London since the last time we talked, any threat you may face probably would be from the Germans and is being treated extremely seriously. First we will be travelling from Dublin direct to Liverpool on the regular steamship run. While there is a little more risk of submarines, none have been seen in the Irish Sea for a long time, and as the ferry is registered to a British company, we can hide a security detail on board as crew. You will be travelling from Liverpool to London by first class rail, about a five hour trip. We will be taking you directly home, where there will be a female guard acting as a nanny to ensure the safety of the children at all times."

"What about my work when I get home?"

"You are to report to work as normal after taking a day to relax. After a couple of days the gentleman you are familiar with is going to visit you as an inspector from the Ministry, inspecting the station. Once in the station he will take the time to talk with you about your meeting. You can trust him; the Queen and Mr. Churchill do, implicitly."

"When do we leave?"

"The ship leaves on the tide, at 6 am tomorrow, so we will leave here at about 5 to get you aboard and settled."

"Thank you for your care, I am really quite reassured."

"Don't worry, I and a guard detail will be seeing you right to your doorstep, and we will be watching throughout the trip to see if anyone is taking any special interest in you."

He said goodbye and left, and I went up to tell the others what was happening. After we had dinner, we all bathed to save time the next day, then after the children were down, we all decided on an early night; three thirty in the morning was going to come awfully early.

Next morning we were up on time and after getting the children ready and downing a quick snack, we were ready to go when Commander Philips arrived. He brought a small bus which was parked in the yard of the hotel. After a hurried goodbye with Mhairi and John, we were escorted out of the back door of the hotel, boarding the bus, the bags were loaded and we were driven to the docks. The ship, the Lady of Mann was a hive of activity, taking on supplies, passengers and baggage. A group of four men were waiting on the dock, and as the bus doors swung open they took our baggage, and with two ahead of us and two behind, the six of us boarded the ship through a loading door in the side of the vessel. A ships officer guided us through the galley, to the passenger cabin deck where they had kept a four berth cabin for Mum, Dad the children and I.

Once in the cabin, Philips had us don life jackets and asked us to wear them at all times during the voyage in case of U Boat attack. There were even small ones for the children. He told me that he and the guards would be in the next cabin, one man would be outside the cabin at all times, and if we wanted to go on deck, or to the dining room, to let him know, and a guard would come with us.

A short time later we heard the rumble of the ships engines as they came to life, and looking out of the porthole, even in the dark, we could see the widening space between the ship and the dock. We were heading out into the Irish Sea, on the way home. Mum and Dad decided that they were going to try and rest for a while, and said they would look after the children, so I asked if I could go to the dining room. I was escorted there by Charles Philips, I hadn't had a lot for breakfast at the hotel as the kitchens were not fully open, so I had a second and filling breakfast. The waiter told us, "Don't expect this if you go the other way luv, it's only because we can load food in Dublin that we can eat like this."

Charles was a mine of information about the company who owned the Lady of Mann, and told me quite a lot about the Isle of Man Steam Packet vessels war service, in both wars, four ships alone being sunk at Dunkirk and other areas early in the war. Ever curious I asked him, "Commander how did you become mixed up in all of this?"

"Please, let's dispense with the formality, call me Charles and if I may I will call you Norma, we may well be called upon to work together again, and we don't need titles."

"Very well Charles, but the question still stands, how and why?"

"Well I am a Wirral boy and the house I lived in at Eastham, wasn't far from the Mersey. I messed around in boats every time I was home from school, so I was well used to the smell of salt water and the rolling of the waves. As my elder brother would of course come into the estate, I was slated for either a career in the Cheshire Regiment, or a life in the church. Not fancying being a foot soldier, and not being the vicar type, I opted for the Royal Navy. After finishing at boarding school, I applied for the Royal Naval College at Dartmouth. I was accepted and after a fairly undistinguished time there, joined the Fleet as a very junior sub lieutenant on a destroyer. Thanks to the war and the rapid expansion of the Navy I rose through the ranks fairly quickly, and ended up a Commander, commanding a Frigate in the North Atlantic Squadron, escorting convoys."

"I noticed the limp, were you wounded?"

"Yes, we were escorting a convoy into Southhampton instead of Liverpool, and in the Channel we had a brush with a flotilla of E Boats, the ship was strafed and the bridge hit. The damage wasn't very bad, but I got some of the shrapnel in my left leg. It healed, but the muscles were damaged and the leg is very stiff, it isn't easy for me to run up the ladders between decks, so instead of a ship I became the commander of a desk in the Squadron headquarters in Liverpool. While it was still important work, it still chafed a little, so when Sir John Maffey asked if I would join his staff in Dublin I jumped at the chance, he is a friend of fathers and had no problem getting me attached to his staff. That was probably because it was an easy way of getting a naval officer into Dublin, part of my job is to observe what goes on in the port, particularly any German shipping activity, and report back to London."

"Is your brother in the services?"

"He was with the 8th Army; unfortunately he was killed at El Alemein in the battle against Rommel's forces."

"Well doesn't that make you the heir to your father's estate?"

"Yes it does, not that I really want to be; I'm quite happy to be a naval officer not a farmer, but in a post war world I suppose my injury will dictate my life, whether or not the navy will have a place for me or not, or whether I will go back to the family estate. It's quite small now, some of the farms have been sold off and now it is not much larger than two of the old family farms. The Manor house is old, it needs lots of expensive work, and the family fortunes quite forbid it. While we might be said to part of 'County Society', it really doesn't mean a whole lot as a great many families are finding out. By the time my father paid all the Death Duties on the estate after his father died, there wasn't much left in the bank.

"Do you still live at the Manor?"

"No, my wife Penny and I have a house in Chester, close enough to Liverpool, but in a charming old city, and with lots of room for our two children and any more we might have."

"Two children? Boys or girls?"

"Both boys, one is five and the other three, I haven't been home for a while to get started on a girl." He smiled at the thought.

"You must have married early."

"Yes, Penny made her mind up quite early, when she was around fifteen I think. Her parents ran one of the tenant farms, so she was always around when I was home from school. She wrote to me while I was at Dartmouth, which I was very happy with, but caused me no end of teasing from the other cadets for the first year or so. Somehow she always seemed to be on hand when I was on leave, growing into a very attractive woman. During my last year at Dartmouth, I really fell for her. When I completed my education and joined the Home Fleet, she took pity on a poor subbie and married me, much to my parents delight. Actually she has been very good for me, when I go into those flights of fancy about high society, she keeps me very well grounded. Hopefully, once I have you safely in London I will have a little time with them on the return trip."

"I hope that you do, I know how you feel, I miss my husband so much, he has been gone so long and there is so little chance that he will get home until everything is over. He left before the children were born so they will be quite grown before they get to meet their father, and before he ever gets to see them."

"Where is he?"

"He is a Major in the Royal Engineers, as far as I can tell he is in India, but who knows for sure, the situation out there seems so confused."

"I hope for your sake that he makes it through and home. I had a draft out there before the war, with the Far East Fleet, and it isn't only the danger from action, but the danger from illness that you have to beware of."

"I know, I've transported patients from the hospital ships who have suffered from various fevers and they are usually pretty sick, those who survive. Now Charles; if you will excuse me, I would like to go back to the cabin, thinking of Jim makes me want to just be with my children and hold them."

"Norma, that feeling is very familiar, there isn't a day that goes by that I don't want to hold Penny and my boys and protect them from the world, and the only way that we can do that is win this war."

He escorted me back to the cabin and as I opened the door said "Don't forget, the Royal Navy is protecting you. Your guards are members of the Liverpool Shore Patrol and as tough as they come."

The crossing was unusual for January, in that it was very smooth so the ship was able to keep up a good speed. The Irish Sea isn't known for being calm and enjoyable, especially in the winter, but we were not even rolling that much and had quite a quick comfortable trip. About three hours later Charles returned to us, he knocked and I opened the door and let him in. He smiled and said, "Norma, we are about to enter Liverpool Bay and the Mersey. I'm sure that you would find it interesting if you would like to come up on deck. We will dock in around an hour and will be leaving the ship the same way as we boarded, so you will be the last to leave and can take your time."

I went up on deck with him and to my surprise he led me up several more decks until we came to the rear of the bridge. He opened the door and said, "Commander Philips, and Mrs. Rogers request permission to enter the bridge. A tall man with a gold edged peak on his cap and several rings on his sleeve replied, "Permission granted." We entered the bridge, and Charles introduced me to Captain Davies the captain of the ship. We then looked out into the morning light at the land coming closer to us, Charles pointed out a green dome a long way off the starboard bow. "Sailors call that the Dome of Home, the church of St Peter and St Paul; they call it that because it is usually the first sight of Merseyside that a sailor sees as he is coming home from the Atlantic."

A little further on, we came upon a line of ships at anchor, surrounded by naval vessels. Some of the ships seemed to be badly damaged, listing and in trouble, water being pumped over the sides, the whole atmosphere seemed to be one of tiredness, the rusty salt stained ships straining at their anchor chains as if they could not wait to get into port. The whole scene looked as if it was painted in shades of gray paint, so drab and pathetic, I really felt for those who manned the ships. There was a small motor boat about the size of a large lifeboat running between the ships, and a larger boat that had Liverpool Pilot written on the sides.

I was curious, "What is happening here?"

"Those ships are a convoy that has just arrived from America and Canada. They are carrying anything from tanks and other weapons to ammunition and food. They are deeply loaded and have to wait for the flood tide so that they can get over the Mersey Bar without grounding. He saw the quizzical look on my face, so he explained that the Bar is an accumulation of sand that comes downriver with the ebbing tides. Normally the channel would be dredged deeper, but as the Admiralty has taken a number of the dredgers to the south coast, the ones left can't do as much here. They are working more in the river and the docks. Once the tide comes in, the depth increases and the ships can get over the Bar safely. That is when the river pilots that are in the small boat will take over the helm of each ship, and guide them to their berths or moorings. The naval ships running the screen around them are guarding them from submarines." Just then his face took on a wistful look.

"What is it," I asked.

He pointed to a warship coming towards us, "That is HMS Avon, a River class frigate, she was my last command. She looks a little the worse for wear, but not as bad as after she was hit in the Channel, she could use a little time in dock to get a bit cleaner, but they just don't get the time in between trips, anyway it makes for better camouflage when they are out at sea."

By this time we were in a little closer and in the distance I could see a lighthouse, something like a small fort, and of all things a holiday pier. Charles laughed at the wondering look on my face, "Welcome to New Brighton, the holiday centre for the Liverpool area. Before the war, this was a mecca for the people of Liverpool, and it still is to some extent. It is just a ferry trip and a pleasant walk from Liverpool, there is still lots of entertainment, several theatres, and I believe the pier has been re-opened. It was closed early in the war to deny access to enemy ships, but it didn't make an awful lot of sense as the Ferry terminal alongside it was still open, so the workers from New Brighton who worked in Liverpool could still get there by ferry.

There are several fairgrounds, though the one indoor fairground, that large blue green building that you can see, has been taken over by the US Army as a munitions factory. The fort is the Perch Rock Battery, and is equipped with naval guns to command the estuary. Right now we are passing under the sights of other naval guns that wouldn't hesitate to blow us out of the water if needed. In between those guns are the anti-aircraft guns that line the shore, right down the length of the river. Any marauding ships or aircraft would be in for a nasty welcome as the Luftwaffe have found out to their cost. Not only that, but the RAF has bases on each side of the river as well, at Speke and Hooton. When you talk of an armed camp, the term describes the Mersey perfectly."

We began to turn into the river and we seemed to be heading right at two ships which were close together, as we neared them they separated and we sailed between them. As we did, I noticed a line of buoys stretching away from their sterns. Charles anticipated my question. "They are block ships, controlling the anti-submarine net that stretches from each shore. Now we are a lot safer than we were at sea and can get rid of our lifejackets.

A mist was just lifting from the river, and I couldn't help but marvel at the difference between Ireland and England. In a way it was depressing, the change from the greens and browns of a winter in Ireland, to the grim stark grays and blacks of wartime England. As we passed the pier at New Brighton, looking eastward over the port bow, I saw a sight that I had seen many pictures of, the Liverpool waterfront, with the dark coloured Royal Liver Insurance building, it's famous Liver Birds on the two towers away in the distance, showing starkly against the skyline. The red sandstone Liverpool Cathedral was up on a hill behind it, the bombed end clearly visible, the bare sandstone not yet darkened by the ravages of weather.

On the starboard side was a long promenade with two more ferry piers. Behind the promenade streets went uphill into the town, Charles told me that the town was called Wallasey and that the promenade was a fine walk in the summer. On a grassy strip behind the promenade the muzzles of anti-aircraft guns jutted from between the trees. The sky over the docks was dotted with sausage shaped barrage balloons, ready if needed. The river was busy, with tugs fussing about getting ready to bring in the ships, and ferries crossing the river, narrowly missing the superstructures of two sunken ships. We passed the two sunken ships, and it seemed that in no time at all, we had come alongside the Princes Landing Stage at the Pierhead. Alongside where we were tied up, a dark blue RN bus waited.