Page 5 of Summer in Greece

CHAPTER 2

GERTIE

Dover, 1990.

MY NAME IS GERTIE SMITH, and I’m recording my life story on these cassette tapes for my darling family, especially Margarete and Shelly, my granddaughter and great-granddaughter. After a happy life at White Cottage, I’m now living at The Gables Retirement Home, in Dover. I’ve been blessed with great love in my life, and also some heartbreaking sadness. You will learn that where there’s passion there’s pain, especially regarding those we hold dear. I hope by telling you my story, showing you what I overcame, I might give you a little extra strength when you need it. I found the most difficult thing we have to learn in life, is to let go. Let go of guilt, anger, and blame; and the hardest of all is to let go of those we love, my darlings. But this is something we must do, for their sakes, and ours.

My story starts on Wednesday, 5 August 1914, with the outbreak of the First World War, though we called it the Great War in my day.

I was born in The White House, now known as White Cottage, on Lighthouse Lane in 1898, and had a happy childhood with my older siblings, Arthur and Sissy. My father, Charles Smith, was the local doctor, and my mother, Martha, was a saint who took care of us all. They were good parents and I loved my family dearly.

Like any sixteen-year-old, I wanted to stay in bed that fateful morning, but my father’s raised voice drifted upstairs. I slipped into my robe and slippers and hurried to the drawing room where my family gathered around Father, looking over his shoulder.

GREAT BRITAIN DECLARES WAR ON GERMANY

The following announcement was issued from the Foreign Office at 12.15 a.m. Owing to the summary rejection by the German government of the request made by His Majesty’s Government for assurances . . .

Father fell silent for a moment. ‘Never mind what’s happening abroad, we’ve got our own problems here with the crisis in Ireland!’ he boomed, shaking his newspaper the way our turkey-cock shakes his feathers when a hen comes near. He dropped the broadsheet onto the coffee table and started pacing.

‘This is Churchill’s doing, and Grey’s speech in the house, yesterday! They’ve led us into this ridiculous state of affairs!’

Arthur picked up the paper. ‘Look, Father, there’s a call for military volunteers to serve Britain. I’ll sign up, of course. It all sounds rather exciting. It will be over by Christmas, surely.’

Mother’s hand went over her mouth.

‘Don’t look so worried, Mother, we’ll soon show them what’s what,’ Arthur promised.

Fully dressed and perfectly groomed, Sissy sat stiffly with her hands in her lap. When she spoke, it was with a certain aloofness. ‘You see, Father? If we women had the vote – and were represented in parliament – we would have objected to a war. I wonder what Mrs Pankhurst has to say about the matter.’

Oh, how I adored my courageous sister! One day I would be exactly like her, brave and bold and a champion for all women.

Father glared at her. ‘Don’t talk nonsense, Sissy. This is not the time for your games, and parliament’s not the place for girls!’

Mother put her hand over her mouth again to muffle a whimper, then, as if catching a little bravery from her daughter she spoke tentatively. ‘Now, now, dear. I think Sissy is making the point that she’s on your side.’

Before Father could roar again, there was a tap on the door and Mrs Cooper, our three-day-domestic entered, springs of ginger curls escaping her starched white cap. ‘I’ve watered the horse and fed the chickens. Eggs are in the larder, ma’am. Can I get on wi’ the beds?’

Father placed his fists on his hips. ‘Do you know we’re at war with Germany, Mrs Cooper?’

The smile fell from her apple cheeks and her jowls quivered. ‘War, sir? I heard some such gossip over the bank holiday. Demonstrations in Trafalgar Square and the like reported in the newspaper. But I ask you, Dr Smith, will it stop the hens laying? I think not.’ She smoothed her spotless apron and folded her hands over her round belly. ‘Mr Cooper can’t see as it will make any difference to ’is pigs but, to be honest, I’d be worried if I had a son of soldiering age.’ She glanced at Arthur.

Father patted his cravat then slipped out of his smoking jacket. ‘We’re an island, therefore in danger of siege in the event of war reaching our shores. I’m going to take you all into town to buy as much sugar, tea, bully beef and flour as you can carry before it’s in short supply. Starving people out has won many a battle and we must make sure it never happens here. Gertie, go and get dressed right away.’

Though reluctant to miss the conversation, I did. Breakfast was rushed, then Father took us into town in the automobile. Dover thronged with like-minded people. Both lower and upper decks of the trams were overflowing, and one would wonder how the conductor got around. Queues of shoppers snaked out of doorways and onto the streets. Posters, pasted onto walls and windows, called for able-bodied men to sign up and defend the Empire. Everywhere buzzed with excitement, fervour, urgency.

*

Arthur came home that evening and at dinner announced that he had joined the army. ‘I’ll work two weeks’ notice at Frister & Sons, then I’m off to training camp. Honestly, I won’t miss being an accountant one little bit.’

Mother, who was serving squab pie, clattered the dish to the table. ‘No! You could get shot by one of those nasty Huns. Father, tell him he can’t go, you won’t allow it.’

*

Sissy went into town with Arthur the next morning, the first day of his official notice at Frister & Sons. According to Arthur’s account over dinner that evening, she marched into the office after him and spoke boldly to Mr Frister Snr.

‘I’ve come to offer my services, sir,’ she said, looking the old man in the eye. ‘I’m prepared to work with my brother, without pay, until he leaves, then step into his place until his return at the end of the war.’

‘Have you lost your senses? This is no place for a girl. Go home to your mother!’ demanded Mr Frister.