Cold War is characterized not only by a large cast of characters but by a variety of themes. Key among these is the often overlooked power of women -- even in a time when women were not prominent in positions of power. The post-war years were infamous as a period in which women who had been doing important work during the war years were sent home. They appeared to go meekly in part because many women really were glad to get away from the factories, the shift work, the dangers and the discipline of the services. But some women didn't have a choice: war widows with dependent children.
Kathleen Hart is one of these.
“Mrs Hart, please try to understand.” Virginia Cox argued patiently with the WAAF officer. “Everyone is talking about these parachutes with sweets attached. There were scores and scores of witnesses, but no one has a photo of it. A picture is worth a thousand words. All I’m asking is that you lend me your adorable little daughter for a few hours. With her bright blond hair, she looks German. We can braid it the way the Germans do and dress her in the oldest, most faded clothes she has. I’ve already made a parachute with one of my old scarves and have attached some Hersey’s chocolate that an American friend gave me to it.” Virginia held up her contraption. “We can throw the parachute out of an apartment building window and position Hope below, waiting with uplifted arms. It will be a sensational shot!”
“It would be fake,” Kathleen answered tartly and indignantly. She did not like this idea at all.
“No more ‘fake’ than most of the films and photos we made during the war,” Virginia countered. “You know as well as I do that all those laughing ‘Fighter Boys’ lounging around waiting for a scramble were posed for the photographers. And so were the images of Bomber Boys intently waiting to hear the ‘target for tonight.’ But they weren’t lies. They were staged, yes, but they replicated reality as accurately as possible. That is what I propose to do now. What is so wrong with that?”
Kathleen didn’t have an answer. She looked over at Hope, who at once started begging. “Please, Mummy! Please!” Kathleen hated being manipulated and all her instincts said this was wrong, but she lacked the arguments to plead her case.
Yes, she could slam the door in the reporter’s face, but that would probably land her in more trouble. The reporter worked for the Times, and her father sat in Parliament. Perhaps more relevant, the WAAF OC was on very good terms with her and had brought her over, saying she was “sure” Assistant Section Leader Hart would have no objections. Kathleen and Parsons had managed to avoid clashes largely by keeping out of each other’s way, but Parsons still had the power to make life very unpleasant for Kathleen if she wanted to. Kathleen preferred to find a compromise now.
She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, but I’m not going to let you just borrow Hope. If you want to take Hope anywhere, then I am coming with you. It is my day off.”
“Oh, splendid!” Virginia agreed with exaggerated enthusiasm.
…
American Skymasters were swooping down at them, and the roar of their engines was deafening. Their wheels and flaps were down as they passed directly overhead, and one could see the oil stains on the wings and the bolts holding the fuselage together.
“Oh, look!” Virginia exclaimed. “There’s a group of German children over there. They must be hoping for a sweet drop! Let’s go and talk to them.” Flinging the car door open, she made a beeline for German boys and girls, Hope and Kathleen forgotten. Kathleen took a disgruntled Hope by the hand and followed.
At the sight of three adults approaching from a car with Allied plates, the children grew still and solemn. They probably feared being chased away.
“Sprechen Sie Englisch?” Virginia asked.
“A little,” one girl answered.
“Are you waiting for sweets to be dropped from an aeroplane?”
They all nodded energetically.
“From one of those?” Hope asked pointing upwards, and her mother hushed her.
Virginia asked the German girl, “Have you caught any sweets before?”
All the children nodded vigorously, and one of the younger children said something with a giggle that the older girl translated. “It is the first chewing gum any of us have ever had.”
“Gum’s bad for your teeth!” Hope informed them. Kathleen put her finger to her lips, harvesting a frown and a stamped foot as she demanded, “Why can’t I say anything?”
“Because Miss Cox wants to hear what the German children have to say.”
“Were you here yesterday and the day before?” Virginia asked the Germans.
They nodded solemnly.
“But no sweets were dropped?”
They shook their heads.
“But you still come every day?”
“It isn’t just the sweets. Every plane brings food or coal or other things we need,” the eldest girl explained. “We watched the planes before the sweets were dropped, too. As long as the planes come, my mother says, we won’t have to submit to the Ivans.”
Good answer, Kathleen thought, and she glanced up just in time to see a USAF Skymaster that was almost on top of them start to rock back and forth. Pilots often did that to “wave” to girlfriends or parents, but the wild reaction of the children took her by surprise. They started jumping up and down and waving with both hands; their high-pitched voices delivered ear-splitting, cacophonic yells of glee. Hope instinctively joined in without even knowing what it was all about.
The next thing Kathleen knew, tiny parachutes were opening over their heads with chocolate bars and packages of gum hanging from them. The children’s shouts of joy reached a fever pitch, almost blotting out Virginia’s furious screams; her photographer had left his camera in the car.
It was too late for a photo. The last of the parachutes with two Babe Ruths swaying from some strings was floating down towards outstretched little hands. Kathleen held Hope back just in time. Hope stamped her foot again and whined, “Why can’t I have some?”
“Because we have sweets rations. These children don’t,” Kathleen told her firmly. “I’ll give you some chocolate when we get back to Gatow.”
Returning her attention to the German children, Kathleen was astonished to see that rather than tearing open the wrappers and eating whatever they could capture, the children first pooled their treasures and then shared them out with scrupulous fairness. In the end, there were three chocolate bars too many. Earnest discussion followed in German before these were handed to three children, who stowed them away in a pocket, evidently for absent siblings. This gesture more than anything struck a chord in Kathleen. She turned to look at the tail of the receding Skymaster.
Did the young men in that aircraft have any idea how happy they had just made these children? Could Americans who had never known shortages, rationing or hunger grasp what a chocolate bar meant to children like these?
They must. Otherwise, they wouldn’t go to so much trouble to make little parachutes from their cotton handkerchiefs and attach candy to them. Again, she looked toward the Skymaster that had concluded its rollout and was turning off the runway. She squinted, trying to read the numbers on the tail fin.
The USAF used tailfin numbers to identify themselves to the tower. If she could read the number, then if it ever came to Gatow she would recognise it and could try to talk to the pilots. She knew the crews changed, but she’d at least have a chance of meeting the young men who’d gone to so much trouble to bring happiness to children they didn’t know.
But the Skymaster was too far away. She would never have any way of knowing who had come up with this idea of dropping candy to the children of Berlin. Yet, most likely he had once dropped bombs on them. The thought moved her to unexpected tears. Ken had loved making Hope laugh and smile. She was sure he would have loved to take part in something like this — if only he’d lived to be here. She felt him beside her, smiling.
Kathleen is a character in both of the First two volumes of the Bridge to Tomorrow Trilogy
The first battle of the Cold War is about to begin....
Berlin 1948. In the ruins of
Hitler’s capital, former RAF officers, a woman pilot, and the victim of Russian
brutality form an air ambulance company. But the West is on a collision course
with Stalin’s aggression and Berlin is about to become a flashpoint. World War
Three is only a misstep away. Buy Now
Berlin is under siege. More than two million civilians must be supplied by air -- or surrender to Stalin's oppression.
USAF Captain J.B. Baronowsky and RAF Flight
Lieutenant Kit Moran once risked their lives to drop high explosives on Berlin.
They are about to deliver milk, flour and children’s shoes instead. Meanwhile,
two women pilots are flying an air ambulance that carries malnourished and
abandoned children to freedom in the West. Until General Winter deploys on the
side of Russia. Buy now!
Based on historical events, award-winning and best-selling novelist Helena P. Schrader delivers an insightful, exciting and moving tale about how former enemies became friends in the face of Russian aggression — and how close the Berlin Airlift came to failing.
Winning a war with milk, coal and candy!
