Moral Fibre

Georgina glanced at Mr Willoughby. He thumped his cane vigorously and bellowed: “Silence! We have a visitor!” As a modicum of quiet spread, he turned to Georgina. “Miss Reddings? Would you like to make the introduction?”

Grateful for his intervention, Georgia hastened to the front of the classroom and turned to face the children. “Sergeant Tibble didn’t get a chance to tell you about his trade in assembly, but before he does that, I want to share with you what his pilot told me: Wireless Operator Tibble saved the lives of the entire crew when the aircraft was very low on fuel after a long flight and their airfield was closed due to fog. They diverted to another station, only to find many aircraft already circling to land. Fortunately, Sergeant Tibble identified an airfield which could accommodate them and provided the weather information necessary for the pilot to fly there safely below the cloud. So never underestimate the importance of a wireless operator.”

These words did the trick; interest in Terry increased — although Terry muttered as he passed Georgina on the way to the podium, “If the skipper said all that, he was lying.”

In only a few humble sentences he explained his job before admitting, “And no, I can’t see very well. That’s why I wear these.” He drew attention to his glasses. “But in my job, it’s not your eyes that count — it’s your ears.” He pointed to his ears before adding, “And the hardest part is learning Morse Code. Do you know what Morse is?”

A general mumble suggested most of the pupils had at least heard of it. Terry turned to the blackboard and briskly wrote down the letters of the alphabet and their Morse equivalents. “Now listen!” he commanded as he drew a whistle out of his pocket. “Who can tell me what letter this is?” He blew three short and one long blasts. A dozen children raised their hands and several waved them wildly.

“Just shout out the letter to me,” Terry told the children. Delighted, the children did. “That’s right! It’s V for Victory,” Terry confirmed. Turning to Georgina, he asked “Do you want to try?” She declined. “What about you, sir?” Terry asked Mr Willoughby.

The former sergeant major took the whistle to blow S-O-S. Again, many pupils recognised it. “So,” he asked, “what about this?” Excited shouts from the children correctly identified “BBC”. With a stiff bow, Willoughby turned the whistle back over to Terry.

“Ready for whole words?” Terry asked, and the whole room responded in a loud, shouted affirmative. Georgina couldn’t remember the children being so excited and involved in anything before.

To great and escalating enthusiasm, Terry blew: “England,” followed by “Kirkby” and “Lincoln.”

“Shall we do a whole phrase?” Terry asked them. Georgina and Willoughby exchanged a smile as the children shrilly demanded more.

Terry attempted “God save the King!” — but they guessed the phrase after the first two words, so Terry announced he’d do something more difficult. Before he could finish, the bell rang. Their time was up.

Some of the girls slipped out of the door at once to enjoy their usual Saturday activities, but the boys and many of the other girls crowded around Terry, jumping up and down and scuffling with one another in their eagerness to ask him questions. How many words per minute could he transmit? And receive? How long did it take to learn? Could he read Morse flashed on Aldiss lamps? Who was better at Morse, the RAF or the Navy?

Delighted by the success of the talk, Georgina watched the children clustered around Terry for several minutes before she noticed, to her astonishment, that her problem pupil Battie was at the blackboard trying to write down the Morse letters in her class notebook. She stood no more than a foot from the board, yet still she seemed to have to go on tiptoe and squint to decipher the letters at the top of the board.

As though struck by lightning, Georgina grasped that Battie was practically blind! That was the reason she took no interest in class. Almost everything was written on the blackboard, and if Battie couldn’t see the instructions or the exercises, never mind the answers, no wonder she couldn’t learn! Georgina hastened over to the girl. “Battie?”

The girl jumped away from the board and held her notebook behind her back, as if she’d done something wrong. With her eyes directed at the floor, she muttered a sullen, “Miss.”

“Battie? Do you need to get this close to the blackboard to read what is written on it?” Georgina wanted to be sure she had not jumped to false conclusions.

Battie squirmed in discomfort and, as usual, said nothing. She just stared at her feet, but tears started to run down her face.

Unexpectedly, Terry appeared beside Battie and handed her his glasses. “Have a look through these, Sunshine,” he offered.

Battie looked up at the wireless operator in awe. “Can I, sir?”

“You don’t have to call me ‘sir,’ Sunshine.” Terry answered with a smile. “I’m not an officer. Call me Sarge, or Terry if you like. Come on! Try me specs.” He held them out to her again.

Very, very gently she took them from him, hesitantly turned them around, and solemnly placed them onto her nose. They were too big for her, so Terry adjusted them a little by bending the frames behind her ears. Finally, she looked solemnly up at the blackboard and her face lit up with a smile from ear to ear. “I can see it all! Even the top line!”

Battie started reading off the letters and the Morse equivalent, giggling with delight.

“Georgina! Aren’t you ready to go yet?” Kit burst through the door.

Georgina understood Kit’s impatience. His leave lasted a mere 72 hours and he’d already sacrificed a morning to be at her school. She told him to go on ahead to the car and give her just one more minute. Then she turned back to Battie with a promise that they would talk first thing on Monday morning. She nodded, her eyes still wide with wonder behind the thick lenses. Flashing a smile of pure gratitude at Tibble, Georgina hurried to fetch her things before Kit got upset.

Outside, she discovered that Adrian had also driven over in his car and was saying goodbye to Fiona — awkwardly, Georgina thought. He seemed at pains to explain why he had to go down to London and could not meet up with her. Two of the Sixth Form girls, on the other hand, were jammed in the back seat with the gunners. From what was being said, Adrian planned to drop them in Boston on his way to London. Fast work, Georgina thought, somewhat surprised that the Sixth Form Master had allowed the girls to go. Nigel and Frank were both nice young men who could be trusted not to do anything the girls didn’t want, but Georgina rather suspected that the girls might well want things Miss Townsend wouldn’t approve of. She reminded herself it was not her concern.

Instead, she thanked Adrian, Nigel and Frank for coming to the school. All assured her it had been fun, and then waved good-bye. Meanwhile, Daddy and Stu climbed in the back of Kit’s car. Kit took her overnight case and put it in the boot, while she sat herself in front. “Where’s Terry?” Kit asked impatiently. Daddy and Stu each had trains to catch from Lincoln and were in a hurry. Fortunately, Terry appeared at a run, holding his cap, and clambered in beside his crewmates. Kit turned the key in the ignition, gunned the engine, and put it into gear.

As they crunched over the gravel drive, Georgina twisted around to thank the three men in the back, and especially Terry. “I’ve had such a time with Battie! She never said a word about not being able to see. I feel a perfect fool for not thinking of it myself. Thank you so much for what you did! You even made her giggle. I’ve never seen her so happy.”

“Her mum’s been telling her she is worthless practically since the day she was born,” Terry informed her indignantly. “The name ‘Battie’ comes from bat, as in ‘blind as a bat.’ She hates it. Her real name’s Nora.”

“Poor thing! I’ll never to call her Battie again,” Georgina promised, “And I must see about getting her eyes tested for a proper prescription, even if I have to pay for it myself!” She hoped it wouldn’t be too expensive. She only earned pennies as an apprentice teacher. “I don’t understand why her parents didn’t get her glasses.”

“Because her mother didn’t want to ‘waste’ the money on her, that’s why!” Terry explained smouldering with anger. “Dumped her on the first train out of London too, right after the start of the war. She was evacuated in September ’39, and she hasn’t seen anyone from her family since. Five blo — excuse me — ruddy years of war, and her Mum couldn’t be bothered coming to visit her once!”

“What about her Dad?” Daddy asked scowling. He had two little girls of his own.

“POW somewhere in the Far East. Said they’d had exactly two postcards from him in the last three years.”

“I don’t understand why nobody said anything to me!” Georgina protested, horrified and distressed — with herself. Why hadn’t she made a greater effort to find out more about Battie’s — Nora’s! — background and condition? When her initial efforts to get the girl to talk had failed, she’d just callously given up. She’d had so many other things to do, and other pupils to think about. She’d allowed the assessment of others to guide her. “I’m going to see she gets to an eye doctor next week. If I can’t afford it, I’m sure my father will lend me the money.”

“How much does an eye test cost?” Daddy asked, looking over at Terry.

“I can’t remember. I haven’t had to pay for one since I signed up.”

“Two or three pounds, I should think,” Georgina replied absently as she planned what she’d say to her father.

“Well, if we all drank one round less every night and put the savings in a piggy bank, we could collect that in a week or two,” Daddy suggested.

“That’s a good idea,” Kit agreed. “Nigel and Frank are generous lads, and I know Adrian will agree. What about you, Stu?” The bomb aimer hesitated a second but then mumbled his consent.

“You’re marvellous!” Georgina announced enthusiastically, deciding that she was in love with Kit’s entire crew.