Norma Rogers Ch. 09

Continuing the Story of Norma and Jim Rogers, young parents who, having survived the horrors of being split apart by war, are trying to get used to being a couple again in peacetime. The characters and the story are fictional and may best be described as an amalgam of things that happened during an extraordinary time. I must express my thanks to the efforts of a great editor, Yellow Peril, who helps my story make much more sense. The story is copyrighted and remains the property of the author, and may not be used without the author's consent.

Norma Part 9

In many ways, the time that Jim was on leave was hard on the two of us, harder than the heady time when we courted and married. Even though there was no threat of Jim going off to war again, it was hard at first to get used to being together all the time. Jim no longer commanded a squadron of men, and I was a housewife, no longer in charge of the Ambulance station. There were just the two of us, with two children to raise. At first I was the sole disciplinarian, as Jim was so new to the close contact with the twins that they soon realized that Daddy was a pushover. If Mummy wouldn't give them something, then Daddy likely would. We were fortunate that Mum and Mhairi stepped in, taking the twins under their wings quite a lot, giving Jim and me time for serious discussions as well as long walks together, or trips to the cinema. As he improved, we were able to go dancing at the local ballroom. We, in a sense, were doing the dating that we hadn't had the time to do during the war. It gave us the chance to discover ourselves all over again, though Jim was still unable to make love to me for a while.

Then came the surrender of Japan, the last obstacle to peace. It touched off many celebrations, but foremost in most of our minds was the feeling of relief that the fighting was finally over. No longer would we be sending our men and sometimes women to far off countries to fight and die. We would be bringing them all home, except for Occupation Forces, and they would mostly be new troops, allowing those who had faced the battles to return home to their families in Britain, the USA, Canada, Australia and all the other allied countries.

After two weeks of Jim's leave, we began to slowly open up the London house. Most days found us busing in from Bromley, but occasionally Jim and I stayed the night, the children being left with their grandmothers. Jim's first comment when we opened the front door and walked in was, "This place really needs redecorating."

My answer was equally simple, "My love, remember, there has been a war on. Even if we could have found any paint, we didn't have any time to put it on the walls." Jim insisted that we needed to re-decorate, so the hunt was on for paint and wallpaper, but we found that shop after shop was out, all over London, until we finally had a stroke of luck. We had taken time off to go for a walk, and while sitting on a seat in the park in Bromley, we were talking about where we might find paint. An older lady who had been seated on the next bench came over to us. She had overheard us, and told us she owned a chandler's, flooring and paint shop. Due to the lack of staff, she had closed off most of the shop except for the chandlery side. In the other part of the shop, she had some paint and wallpaper left. She told us that we were welcome to the paint and wallpaper if it was still usable. She took us to the shop, and old as it was the paint was still good because it had never been opened, and the paper was just fine too. To top it all off, she still had some rolls of linoleum so we could renew the floors. I turned to Jim, "There! You have been looking for something to do with yourself, so here you go." For the first time in a long period, I saw a genuinely happy smile on his face.

"Come on. Let's go get started," he said to me with a grin.

Old as it was, and even with the limited choice of colours, we bought paint, wallpaper and linoleum and started the project, helped once in a while by Bert or Jenny. Sometimes we had as much paint on ourselves as the house, and engineer that he was, Jim still got into some comical situations hanging wallpaper and laying linoleum.

Bert had been offered his Chief Petty Officer's job back in the peace time navy, either that or demobilization. He decided that, after having spent some time as an officer, he didn't want to return to the lower decks, even as a Chief. It was time to stay home; Civvy Street beckoned and he was planning to start his own radio business. Jenny, well, Jenny was Jenny, a happy wife and mother, not yet pregnant again, but as she put it, really trying.

It was a happy time, a time that saw Jim gradually coming out of the withdrawn state that he had been in since he came home. During one of our painting sprees, after the inside of the house was complete, we were out in the backyard whitewashing the walls (that was a custom at the time). As we slapped the whitewash on, we were getting ourselves splashed as well. I got some in the face, and started muttering about not being a painter. Jim turned and looked, and for the first time since he came home, he roared with laughter. Not to be outdone, I took my brush and, while he was laughing, I painted a line across his forehead, and then down his nose. Then the battle was on, just like a pair of children, laughing like crazy we painted each other until we were almost completely white. Then Jim dropped his paintbrush, grabbed me, and pulling me into him, kissed me so deeply that I almost buckled at the knees. I reached up around his neck, pulling his head down to me, kissing him back, right through the whitewash. He sighed, "Norma, I feel that things are starting to get better; please stick with me."

I pulled him down to me again, whispering, "I'm not going anywhere. You're my husband, my lover and the father of my children. You are part of me, and I of you; the words were 'Till death do us part.' I have never meant anything as much as I meant that promise."

To celebrate the end of the decorating, we arranged for a neighbor to sit with Bert's and Jenny's kids, and we all went round for a drink at the Dog and Duck. Maisie and her husband Sid were there as well, and we had quite a party, enough of one that we didn't work much the next day. It ended up a good job, really, as we had a visitor, my friend Mr. Richards from Military Intelligence, who came to see us. I introduced him to Jim, and to my surprise the pair of them got on like a house on fire, talking of the Burma Campaign and the work done on the airfields.

Eventually I interrupted, "Do you mind telling me why you are visiting? If there is any more intelligence work to be done, I'm out of it. As far as I'm concerned, I'm just an ordinary housewife now."

Smith answered, "No, there isn't, though I don't think you will ever be merely an ordinary housewife, not after the job you did during the war. The one thing I wanted to mention is that, should you ever be approached by the Russians, we would appreciate knowing about it. Another thing is, you are not a civilian, not quite. Your predecessor was able to leave and nurse her husband, as she was just a member of the Volunteer Ambulance Service. You, however, are still an ATS officer with all the responsibilities that go with the job. We are processing your demobilization, but we would like you to take part in a special ceremony at your former station to celebrate the work done by the ATS and Volunteer Ambulance during the war."

"When will this be?"

"In two weeks' time." He turned to Jim, "By the way, Major Rogers, your leave has been extended until after the ceremony, and we would be grateful if you would attend the ceremony as well, in uniform of course." Looking at Jim in his painting clothes, he smiled as he noted, "Those are hardly the clothes for a military celebration." We told him we would be there, and as it happened, the ceremony became one of the most important and effective parts of Jim's recovery.

Two weeks later, both of us in uniform, we walked into the station. We were surprised to see all the ambulance and fire vehicles parked on the street instead of in the yard. Both of us were blissfully unaware of what was going to happen during the ceremony. As we walked into the building, a tall captain from the Royal Engineers, carrying a sword and belt, marched up to Jim, halted, saluted and offered him the sword. Jim took the sword with a surprised look on his face and asked, "Doug, what is going on?"

"Squadron Parade, Skipper; every single one of the Burma Campaign survivors is out there, along with the families of the men who didn't come back; they are waiting for you to join us."

Jim buckled on the sword, looked at me, and asked, "What about my wife?" A fire officer standing by told us that my Ambulance Unit was outside and they were formed up, waiting for me to join them. Jim turned to me and said, "Norma, we have been well and truly had by your friend Richards; this is much more than a simple ceremony! Well, I think we have no choice but to continue on."

As if he were being taken over by another person, his posture stiffened, he suddenly assumed an air of command and saluted the Captain. "Carry on, Captain Hathaway." When we arrived at the door to the vehicle park, we stopped for a moment. Jim whispered to me, "Doug Hathaway was my second in command in Burma."

I took a quick look outside, seeing that my Ambulance Unit was fairly close, and I was taken a little aback as I recognised Nancy in uniform in the front rank. Then I looked further and saw that roughly a hundred soldiers with rifles were drawn up in three ranks, with flag bearers, officers and NCOs in front of them. Behind the soldiers were many civilians, also arranged in two rows. Against the wall by the gates was a dais, with both the Union Jack and United States Flags flying.

Suddenly Captain Hathaway's clear strong voice rang out across the yard giving commands to the troops, "24th Independent Field Squadron Royal Engineers, Commanding Officer on Parade, General Salute, Present Arms." The soldiers performed the drill and the crack as their rifle magazines were forced home was like a single sound.

Jim took my arm, "Come on, that's our cue, I'll drop you off."

We both marched out, and when we came level with my deputy, I halted and turned towards her. Jim continued until he was in front of Captain Hathaway, turned towards him and saluted.

Hathaway continued, "Squadron Present and Correct; Sir."

Jim saluted in return. "Thank you, Captain" Then he ordered "Squadron, Shoulder Arms" The troops did so, and Jim hesitated for a moment as, with a grin, he looked along the ranks of men in uniform.

Suddenly, a band struck up outside the gate and we heard the order 'Quick March'. Jim and I turned toward the gate, and as we did, a small band of the Royal Engineers marched through the gate and halted just inside. Behind them, a group of people made their way to the dais. I was amazed to see not only the King and Queen, the King being dressed in full naval dress uniform, but also to see Henry, Glenda and Hank Edwards, along with my in-laws and parents, and various aides, including Mr. Richards. The King and Queen stood on the dais, along with Henry and Glenda Edwards. I was lost as to what we had to do next, but fortunately Jim wasn't. He drew his sword and, in a loud clear voice, he called, "Parade; Attention; Royal Salute; Present Arms." The Squadron and my ambulance unit performed together as a precision drill team, as the rifles moved into position, the colours dipped, Jim saluted, and the Royal Salute was held not only while the British National Anthem was played, but also when the National Anthem of the United States was played. The King returned the salute with his normal naval salute, and Henry Edwards placed his hand over his heart.

Once the salutes were performed, Jim ordered the troops to order arms. He gave the command to open order, and the troops opened up the ranks. The King and Henry Edwards then stepped to the ground in front of the dais, at which point Jim marched forward and invited the King to inspect the troops, which he and Henry Edwards did, including walking along the lines of family members also, stopping and speaking with them. Then they returned to the front of the dais, and an Aide to the King in naval uniform took over. I was surprised to see that the Aide was Commander Philips, whom I had last heard of being in a hospital bed.

In a strong, clear voice, Commander Philips read a citation. "Major James Rogers: with respect to your service in India keeping vital airfields in the India to China supply route in operation against enemy action and the forces of nature, you are hereby awarded the Distinguished Service Order. In addition, due to your selfless courage in volunteering to take your unit through enemy held country to locate allied troops, you are hereby awarded the Bar to the Distinguished Service Order. Advance and receive your awards."

I could hardly contain my pride as Jim marched smartly to the King, saluted and received his double DSO. Then I got a surprise, the King turned to Henry and waved him forward. Henry spoke in a clear strong voice. "Major Rogers, this morning I am here representing the President of the United States. In situations where Allied troops make special efforts in support of US forces, certain decorations may be awarded. This is being done today in regard to your squadron's efforts, both in helping the US Army Air Force, and then locating and, at great personal cost, helping our special unit in the Rangoon area. On behalf of the President of the United States, I am delighted to award you the Legion of Merit. He pinned the medal on Jim's chest, then looking up to include the rest of the squadron and the relatives, he continued, "Major Rogers' troops are also being honoured today. The President has authorized the award of the Bronze Star to each member of the squadron, or in cases where the soldier has died, posthumously to their family." A number of American officers who had obviously been waiting in the station then distributed the medals.

Jim saluted and returned to his position, at which point I was even more surprised to hear Commander Philips continue. "Senior Commander Norma Rogers, please come forward." Wondering what was happening, I marched out and halted in front of the King, who gave me a smile as I saluted him.

Philips continued. "Senior Commander Rogers, for accepting and completing important duties that unfortunately cannot be detailed in this citation, you have also been awarded the Distinguished Service Order."

After the King pinned the medal on my jacket, I saluted and was about to return when Henry spoke again. "Commander Rogers, unfortunately our system of awards does not cover these circumstances, but the President is well aware of the training you devised and provided to the United States Forces in handling of casualties. I am proud to present you with the Personal Citation of the President of the United States. He then handed me a framed Citation, and I saluted and turned to the Ambulance Unit, who could no longer hold themselves in check and burst into applause.

The King stood at the front of the dais, and seemed to be deep in thought. He then began to speak. "It is with difficulty that I speak to you all, not because of my own disability, but because I am humbled by your efforts. Whether Military or Ambulance Service, you have been called upon to make extraordinary efforts during the times of our deepest trials. You have all responded to that challenge in such a way that can only demand respect for you all and pride in your accomplishments. To the families of those wounded and lost, I can only say 'take pride in what your loved one did, for without their sacrifices we would not have triumphed.' Thank You All."

The civilians who were present and the ambulance unit broke out in a round of applause as he stood back. As the yard was not big enough for a march past, the band struck up again and the Royal Party moved off into the station where a tea and sandwich table had been set up. Jim dismissed the Squadron and I followed his example with the Ambulance Unit. We walked into the station to get some tea, and the Queen and Mhairi waved me over. I saluted the Queen and she spoke first, "Well, Norma, a lot has happened since we first met. I thought when we met that day in the palace that you were destined to be a force to be reckoned with. It appears that I was right, and we were fortunate to find you, as well as more women like you. Without your efforts, the war might be still dragging on."

I replied, "Your Majesty, thank you for your kind words, but I must admit that, had I been given my choice, it would have been to spend the last four years with my husband and children in a little house in the country."

She smiled knowingly and continued, "It is not exactly a state secret that, given the choice, I would have chosen the same, but the times often make demands on us that we can't ignore. On behalf of the King and the country, thank you for doing what you did."

I smiled back at her and spoke to her in return, "Your Majesty, I want to thank you for being here today, and please convey my thanks to the King for his presence also; it has meant so much to everybody else here."

She replied, "It was the least we could do, especially as you were both being honoured by the United States as well."

Mhairi told me that she would see me later, and they both went to meet the relatives of those who had lost their lives.

I walked over to get some tea, and Jim came to join me. "Quite the surprise, wasn't it?"

I thought for a minute before asking, "Jim, did you know anything about it?"

"No, I knew the Americans had an award planned for the unit, but I thought it was just going to be some small thing."

Just then a man approached us. He appeared to be in his fifties, was short with thinning hair, and his clothes, while neat, showed signs of wear. Proudly displayed on his left breast were a number of World War One decorations. He was accompanied by a short, plump woman. He was obviously trying to talk without an accent, but the strong Liverpool accent slipped through as he talked. "Major Rogers, can we 'ave a word with you and yer good lady?"

Jim smiled, "Yes, and how can we help you?"

"I'm 'Arry Ellis and this is Gertie, my missus. We travelled down from Liverpool on the night train, and we're going back the same way tonight. We don't have much, but we couldn't miss this occasion. Our son Billy was in your squadron."

"I remember, Scouser Ellis in Park Troop, the best plumber in the unit."

"That's 'im sir, he could have stayed 'ome to work in the shipyard, but 'e wanted to do 'is bit, just like 'is two bruvvers."

"Where did your other boys serve?"

"In the Kings Liverpool Regiment, just like most of the other lads in the area."

"An excellent tradition, Sir, and how are they?"

"Well, the eldest was wounded and captured on Crete, so 'e was a POW and really sick when the camp was taken, but 'e's gettin' better now; the middle boy is in Germany with the Army of Occupation."

Jim pointed at the medals Mr. Ellis wore. "I see that you have served your country, too, Mr. Ellis."

"Yes, Sir, Sergeant Ellis, Mortar Platoon, First Battalion, King's Liverpool."

"Well, Sar'nt Ellis, I can tell you that Billy was a credit to you both. He was an important member of the unit, and he was really well liked. It was a pity that he went all through the fighting, only to lose his life to an illness that we didn't have the medicines to deal with. He didn't have to go with the search troops, he volunteered."

"Sir, that's what I wanted to tell yer. 'E said 'e'd go anywhere you did, told us you were the best officer 'e ever served with. I just wanted to thank yerself for keepin 'im alive so long, and bein so good to 'im. Ma and me 'ave bin talking to other parents and wives, and they think pretty much the same; they're glad that their sons served with you, and know that if yer could possibly 'ave brought their boys back home alive, yer would."