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writing_shadows((OOC: Oddly I only have one character who has been through WW2 awake so I thought I would post the extracts I wrote for her background, something that I never managed to get finished.
Also posted to my character journal so sorry if you get it twice.))
* 3rd September 1939, Clydebank *
The whole family sat in shocked silence listening to the radio, trying to believe the words that the Prime Minister was saying.
"I am speaking to you from the cabinet room of 10 Downing St. This morning the British Ambassador in Berlin handed the German Government a final note stating that, unless we heard from them by 11 o'clock that they were prepared at once to withdraw their troops from Poland, a state of war would exist between us. I have to tell you now that no such undertaking has been received, and that consequently this country is at war with Germany."
It seemed like some sort of bizarre dream. Immediately there was worry on everyone's faces. While Irene was too young to have seen the Great War, she knew enough to know it had been awful and now it looked like there might be another one. Her eyes flicked over towards her older brother, he was 20 years old and old enough to join up. Just by looking at him she knew he would and fear gripped her harder. Everything in her life was about to change.
* 15th July 1940, Clydebank *
The shipyard was a noisy and dangerous place and many of the men working there were still resenting the presence of women among them. Irene didn't seem to care about the mutters or strange looks she got though, she smiled to herself as she worked on constructing ships for the war effort, there was something so soothing in the art of making things like this and she found she genuinely enjoyed her efforts.
Her body was getting stronger with the hard work and she collapsed into bed most evenings, exhausted. But she still felt useful and worryingly like she had found a vocation that she wanted. Irene had never been very feminine; she didn't feel like going through to Glasgow regularly to gawp at the soldier boys, especially the Americans. Dancing made her feel awkward and boys tended to laugh at her.
She'd finally found something she enjoyed doing, something that felt right and comfortable to her. She was good at it too; she saw the looks of astonishment that her supervisor gave her every time she completed something that they had never believed was possible from a woman. If nothing else came out of this the work gave her a sense of accomplishment unlike anything she had ever experienced before.
* 13th March 1941, Clydebank *
Sirens, the night was filled with the noise of them, it seemed almost deafening until you compared it to the sound of the bombs falling.
Irene had never been so scared, she staggered, trying to grab a warm coat and get out of the house, the floor was shaking regularly though as the bombs fell and pounded the town. Bright flashes of light almost blinded her and she could hear her younger sister screaming.
Struggling down the corridor there was a noise like thunder and the world upended itself and she was thrown to the ground. There was a thump, pain and then everything went black.
* * *
Pain. Her world seemed to be filled with pain. She woke in the dark and screamed as she tried to move. It seemed hard to move her leg, everywhere around her there seemed to be rubble, so much so that she couldn't tell if it was still night or if morning had come. Trying too hard to move caused her to black out again and she came to shaking and sweating, trying desperately to keep her cool while praying hard for rescue.
Hours passed. The hours seemed like days or years to her though. The pain grew less and then finally stopped but somehow Irene figured that was probably not a good sign. Her fear grew and she spent about half an hour screaming and crying for help before a fit of coughing and a desperate wish for water put an end to it.
She grew weaker and weaker and lay there, thinking that soon she was going to die alone in the dark. Her fears gripped her again and she wished for someone, anyone, to rescue her. She didn't care what price she would pay, she just wanted out of there.
"Take my hand then and you will be free of this place, if that is what you want." She started, staring in surprise at the strange figure before her. Half thinking it was a hallucination she stretched forwards her hand anyway, desperation making her grasp at any potential way out or even the momentary hope the illusion granted her.
Her hand met solid flesh and there was a whoosh of air and she was indeed taken away as she had asked to be, a broken and bleeding fetch left in her place.
Also posted to my character journal so sorry if you get it twice.))
The whole family sat in shocked silence listening to the radio, trying to believe the words that the Prime Minister was saying.
"I am speaking to you from the cabinet room of 10 Downing St. This morning the British Ambassador in Berlin handed the German Government a final note stating that, unless we heard from them by 11 o'clock that they were prepared at once to withdraw their troops from Poland, a state of war would exist between us. I have to tell you now that no such undertaking has been received, and that consequently this country is at war with Germany."
It seemed like some sort of bizarre dream. Immediately there was worry on everyone's faces. While Irene was too young to have seen the Great War, she knew enough to know it had been awful and now it looked like there might be another one. Her eyes flicked over towards her older brother, he was 20 years old and old enough to join up. Just by looking at him she knew he would and fear gripped her harder. Everything in her life was about to change.
The shipyard was a noisy and dangerous place and many of the men working there were still resenting the presence of women among them. Irene didn't seem to care about the mutters or strange looks she got though, she smiled to herself as she worked on constructing ships for the war effort, there was something so soothing in the art of making things like this and she found she genuinely enjoyed her efforts.
Her body was getting stronger with the hard work and she collapsed into bed most evenings, exhausted. But she still felt useful and worryingly like she had found a vocation that she wanted. Irene had never been very feminine; she didn't feel like going through to Glasgow regularly to gawp at the soldier boys, especially the Americans. Dancing made her feel awkward and boys tended to laugh at her.
She'd finally found something she enjoyed doing, something that felt right and comfortable to her. She was good at it too; she saw the looks of astonishment that her supervisor gave her every time she completed something that they had never believed was possible from a woman. If nothing else came out of this the work gave her a sense of accomplishment unlike anything she had ever experienced before.
* 13th March 1941, Clydebank *
Sirens, the night was filled with the noise of them, it seemed almost deafening until you compared it to the sound of the bombs falling.
Irene had never been so scared, she staggered, trying to grab a warm coat and get out of the house, the floor was shaking regularly though as the bombs fell and pounded the town. Bright flashes of light almost blinded her and she could hear her younger sister screaming.
Struggling down the corridor there was a noise like thunder and the world upended itself and she was thrown to the ground. There was a thump, pain and then everything went black.
Pain. Her world seemed to be filled with pain. She woke in the dark and screamed as she tried to move. It seemed hard to move her leg, everywhere around her there seemed to be rubble, so much so that she couldn't tell if it was still night or if morning had come. Trying too hard to move caused her to black out again and she came to shaking and sweating, trying desperately to keep her cool while praying hard for rescue.
Hours passed. The hours seemed like days or years to her though. The pain grew less and then finally stopped but somehow Irene figured that was probably not a good sign. Her fear grew and she spent about half an hour screaming and crying for help before a fit of coughing and a desperate wish for water put an end to it.
She grew weaker and weaker and lay there, thinking that soon she was going to die alone in the dark. Her fears gripped her again and she wished for someone, anyone, to rescue her. She didn't care what price she would pay, she just wanted out of there.
"Take my hand then and you will be free of this place, if that is what you want." She started, staring in surprise at the strange figure before her. Half thinking it was a hallucination she stretched forwards her hand anyway, desperation making her grasp at any potential way out or even the momentary hope the illusion granted her.
Her hand met solid flesh and there was a whoosh of air and she was indeed taken away as she had asked to be, a broken and bleeding fetch left in her place.
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