Happy Birthday: Part Twenty-Three

~ beetleypete

This twenty-third part of a fiction serial, in 784 words.

By the middle of nineteen forty-two, the whole world seemed to be involved in the war. Russia had been invaded, the Americans had been attacked by Japan the prvious year, and in south-east Asia and the Pacific, the war was being fought against a cruel and very successful enemy.

Hettie had not even been at home to celebrate the two birthdays she had almost forgotten about. It was as if everyone was getting used to war, it was just becoming everyday life, with nobody having any idea when it might end, if it ever did. But the mood at the Admiralty was upbeat due to the fact that America was now on the side of the allies.

It was condidently predicted that their arrival in Europe would tip the balance against Germany and Italy, though the war against Japan might well drag on into the next decade.

Summoned to the office of Commander Maddox one morning, Hettie was given news of another promotion for her, which came with a new job and different responsibilites. And there was no mention of her being able to decline it. There was a war on, it was a posting, not a request. On top of that, it was super-secret, necessitating a cover story for her to tell Edward that would add pressure to an already decaying marriage.

She was being posted to the north of Scotland, to a place that had a name that nobody else knew, but was essentially a training school for spies based in a grand country house. Her role was to instruct in Morse Code, and also the use of hidden radios that she would learn about before her posting.

There was only three weeks’ notice of her departure, and the cover story conjured up by Maddox was that her department was being sent to the Scottish Highlands to be away from any danger in London. She was to lie about the location too, saying she would be working from an Army barracks close to Fort William, though she would be nowhere near there.

The promotion carried a high grade indeed, and a large salary increase. As the shops were not doing so well, the extra money would be useful to balance that out. That night after she got home, she had an awkward conversation with Edward. He accepted she had no choice, but became increasingly agitated when she had to tell him she had no idea how long she would be there.

“What d’ya mean, no idea? Surely they can’t just expect you to up sticks and live in Scotland? Bloody hell, Het, they know you’re married, can’t they find some single women or widows to do the filing and telephone calls?”

As diplomatically as she could without giving anything away, she tried to defend the decision to send her there.

“Eddie love, I’ve been promoted, you know that. I don’t just do filing and phone calls anymore, I’m head of the department. Can’t expect someone less qualified to take on my job, ‘specially not during a war of all things. Or to ask my girls to move up there if I’m staying in London. It’s not that I want to go, I ain’t got a choice”. He was unconvinced, and became surly and silent.

After an hour of getting the cold shoulder, Hettie went to bed early. Leaving him to stew in his own juice.

During the training that followed, she was shown tiny Morse sets and miniature radios. They were hidden in all sorts of things, from hollowed-out books, to inside fruit cakes. One was even sewn into a Bishop’s headgear, no doubt for some spy who was going to pose as a Catholic priest. She also learned about who she would be working with, a list of departmental names that were all acronyms like SOE, OSS, and SIS.

The new training centre would contain battle scenarios for commandos, self-defence classes and shooting ranges for spies, and lots of classes on how to use explosives to good effect. Once they were trained to the requirements of their role, they would move on to Hettie’s class, secret communications.

Then they would leave to undertake parachute training at another location, before the next intake of recruits arrived. Hettie’s rank would get her a small private room,, and all catering and laundry would be provided, as they could not leave the site.

Home leave wasn’t mentioned.

Edward mellowed closer to the time, and when Hettie came home with her travel warrant for the next day’s trip to Scotland, he anounced he would close the shop for a half-day and accompany her to the railway station.

He wasn’t best pleased when she told him that wouldn’t be allowed.

27 thoughts on “Happy Birthday: Part Twenty-Three”

  1. What a tough position Hettie is in, having to lie to her own husband. But, she’s obviously a trusted and valued staff member and … I think I sense where she is heading … thinking of the “Code Breakers”. Still a fascinating story, Pete! I’m enjoying it, even though I’m a few days behind. 

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    1. She’s not going to be a code-breaker, Jill, they were based at Bletchley Park. But her training job is very important for the agents who will be parachuted into occupied countries..

      Best wishes, Pete.

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  12. (1) We would have celebrated victory far sooner in the Pacific theater if we had employed sharks with frickin’ laser beams attached to their heads.
    (2) America was now on the side of the allies. Far to the side. About 3,500 miles to the side.
    (3) Hettie irked her superiors when she had AirTags installed in the shoes of the spies she trained and tracked. “Just so you know, Hettie, there has been a delay in the development of Bluetooth technology. So it’s back to Morse Code and hidden radios, okay?”
    (4) Fort William did not fit the bill.
    (5) Overheard:
    Edward: “Surely they can’t just expect you to up sticks and live in Scotland?”
    Hettie: “Well, it’s better than being shot to bloody Hell.”
    (6) Overheard:
    Hettie: “You’re surly.”
    Edward: “Don’t call me surly!”
    (7) Bad citation: “After an hour, Hettie the Headhunter went to bed early, leaving her prey to stew in his own juice (plus a dash of herbs containing tannic acid). She would dry and mold the trophy head in the morning.”
    (8) Installing miniature radios inside fruit cakes worked out great for a while, as no one ate them. But, unfortunately, they got passed around a lot, and eventually ended up back in the U.K. a few months after Christmas.
    (9) The new training center included shooting ranges for spies. “So when you’re caught, and you’re there facing the German firing squad, you must refuse to put on a mask, you must stare into the eyes of the enemy with a look of proud defiance, and you must shout ‘God save the king!’ before the bullets fly. Okay, so let’s give this some practice, shall we? Don’t worry, we’re using Daisy BB guns. It won’t hurt much!”

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