Wartime Princess (12 page)

 

 

Lilibet has joined the ATS. She can't go every day, of course. One thing Papa's insisted on is that she comes home every evening. But she's determined that when she's on duty, she's to be treated just like the other women. She means it, too.

When the war's over, Lilibet and Philip will both be able to say, ‘During the war, when I was a serving officer…'

I won't. Left-at-home Margaret, I'll be.

 

 

Lilibet is definitely in love with Philip. She told me. Well, not in so many words. She's always careful in what she says, but I know her too well. She loves him. I hope he loves her. He'd better.

I did ask Mummy if she thought Philip might propose to Lilibet. She laughed that little light laugh of hers that isn't really a laugh, but gives her time to think.

‘Who can foretell the future, darling?' she said.

I waited. I thought that if I kept quiet, Mummy might keep talking. She did.

‘We like Philip very much, of course we do,' she said, ‘and he's certainly proved himself in the war. He's a fine young man, and I know Lilibet is fond of him. But…'

Again, I waited.

‘But she's so young. Too young to know her own feelings.'

‘Mummy, she's eighteen. Grown up.'

Mummy had all sorts of ‘buts'. But they don't really know each other. But he has no proper home. But he may not be as fond of Lilibet as she is of him. It went on and on.

She ended by saying, ‘Lilibet meets lots of eligible young men. Who knows what will happen?'

For once, I think Mummy's wrong, wrong, wrong.

 

 

Lilibet's old tutor, Mr Marten, is now Sir Henry Marten. Papa knighted him on the steps of Eton College Chapel today. It was lovely. Lilibet gave him a beautiful smile. She's fond of him.

‘He's such a character, and he's been a wonderful teacher,' she said. ‘I thought constitutional history would be dry and dusty, but he made it so interesting.'

Sir Henry must be about seventy, and he looks a dear. The boys gave him three mighty cheers. Lilibet says he's been teaching at Eton for ever. It's nice that he gets a reward for all he's done, especially for packing my sister's head with so much history.

 

 

Oh, I cannot wait to grow up. Lilibet has such a good time. She's adoring being in the army. Most mornings she gets collected by car, has a lovely time with ‘the girls' and comes home in the evening, bursting with funny stories. The drivers learn how to look after their vehicles, so she talks about spark plugs and axles, changing tyres and goodness knows what else. She also told us she takes her turn serving meals! Yesterday she drove us around the park in Papa's car. It was a bit jerky, but she's really good. We passed some people out walking, and they absolutely gaped to see Princess Elizabeth at the wheel and the King of England holding on for dear life!

She still has to do official engagements, but she's glad to do them, and is always smiling in the photographs. I'm not quite as smiley. Sometimes she nudges me and hisses, ‘Smile,' and still edges me towards where I'm supposed to stand. It's a bit bossy, but it does stop me forgetting myself and going wrong.

Lilibet has her own suite in Buckingham Palace now, and a new lady-in-waiting, called Jean. The poor woman lost her husband a few months ago, and she's quite young. She'll have fun with Lilibet and Mary, another lady-in-waiting. They do dreary things like answer letters, but they also go on official engagements, which must be lovely if you haven't got to make a speech!

 

 

We went to see 2nd Subaltern Elizabeth Windsor at work today! It was funny seeing her in overalls, with her head under the bonnet. Her tools were spread out on a cloth on the ground, and she carefully told me what they were all called. Yawn.

Mummy had a careful look at the engine, which was filthy, and asked what Lilibet was doing. I'm sure she didn't understand a word of the reply.

I feel so proud that my sister's doing what all those other women soldiers do.

 

 

I hardly see Lilibet these days. She goes to bed straight after dinner most evenings.

‘I've never worked so hard in my life,' she told Allah one evening, as she flopped into an armchair and put her slippered feet on a footstool. Mummy and Papa were out for the evening, so we had supper with Allah in the nursery, like the old days.

‘I wish I could join up,' I said. ‘Wouldn't it be fun to go together?'

She smiled. I don't suppose she agrees. It's not often a princess can do something on her own without the family and drivers and detectives around. As I know, only too well.

 

 

I've just heard the news that President Roosevelt died yesterday. It's such a shame – he was going to come to London, but we'll never meet him now. The American people must be very sad.

The new president is the old vice-president, Harry S. Truman. He was sworn in straight away. They don't waste time in the United States.

It's such a shame that President Roosevelt didn't live to see the end of the war. We're sure it can't be far off.

 

 

Another victory! In Italy! The German forces there have surrendered, and Hitler's ally, Mussolini, has been captured and shot.

Can the end of the war be far away? Poor Lilibet, she's only just joined up!

 

 

The most wonderful news!
Adolf Hitler is dead!

Oh dear. I wish I was using pencil. I could rub that first sentence out. It's bad to feel like that about a dead person, even when they've done the most evil things, as Papa says Hitler has.

Does this mean the war's finished?

No, Crawfie's just been in. She says someone will take over as German leader. I hope he's not as bad as Hitler. Lilibet said there have been horrors I wouldn't believe. I don't think I want to know about horrors.

 

 

Things move so fast! The German forces in Holland, Denmark and even part of Germany have surrendered!

Papa said he and Mummy should have stayed in London. She said a few days in the country does anyone good, and there's nothing Papa needs to do that can't be done at Windsor. ‘If you're needed in town, I'm sure Mr Churchill will let you know,' she said. Matter closed.

 

 

Lilibet just looked in, with a big beaming smile, to say that the German forces in Norway have surrendered. There can't be many left!

 

 

What a day!

We were all ready for church, hats on, when a message came for Papa. He and Mummy were needed urgently in London.

We all jumped into the car and headed for the city. Papa was quiet, and looked tired, but his eyes were brighter than they've been for ages.

Uniformed officers and other men are in and out of Buckingham Palace. We know exactly what's going on. In the next few hours, Germany will sign a document officially surrendering.

We've won the war!

Lilibet said quietly, ‘How privileged we are to know this before the rest of the world.'

 

 

I wanted to stay up last night so I didn't miss anything, but I was packed off to bed and told it would all be the same whether I was asleep or awake.

Lilibet and the dogs brought me the news this morning. Germany officially surrendered at 2.41 a.m.

I danced around the room. ‘We won! We won!'

She sat on my bed and let me caper about for a bit, with the dogs darting about my feet, then said, ‘Don't forget, Margaret, Japan hasn't surrendered. We're still at war.'

That stopped me. ‘Oh.' Then I remembered. ‘Philip's out there, isn't he?'

She nodded. ‘Somewhere in the Pacific Ocean. I hope he's safe.'

I put my arms round her. ‘There was I, all happy, and you're missing Philip so very, very much. Sorry.'

Lilibet kissed my forehead. ‘Nothing to be sorry about.' She checked her watch. ‘I must fly.'

As she left I thought, Hmm, she's missing Philip ‘so very, very much'.

For once, she hadn't said, ‘Don't be silly, Margaret.'

 

 

Victory in Europe Day, which everyone's calling VE Day, is tomorrow, and Mr Churchill will officially announce the end of the war in Europe. Lilibet said it'll be a day of celebration like we haven't seen since Papa and Mummy's coronation. How exciting!

 

 

We woke to freedom! Rain, too, but it didn't last.

At breakfast, Mummy told us Mr Churchill was coming to lunch, then Papa rushed in.

‘You must see what's happening in the Mall. Hurry!'

Well, of course, Mummy never hurries. I was first there, and I twitched the edge of the curtains. ‘Look at the crowds!' I cried.

From every direction, men, women and children poured into the Mall. What's more, they were singing as they came. Some linked arms and marched in step. And the colours! It was as if someone had decided to brighten up dreary old London by opening their paintbox and brushing it with red, white, blue and every other colour! Children waved flags, and everyone was happy.

I stayed near the window all morning. The cheering, dancing people never knew a young princess was watching and wishing she could be dancing with them. At one point, cousin Margaret joined us. She's staying here with her brother Andrew, but she goes out to work so I don't see her often.

At lunch, I've never seen two men shake hands as warmly as Papa did with Mr Churchill. We left them talking, and Mummy took us into the garden for some fresh air. As we walked across the lawn, Lilibet looked at me, and I looked at her.

‘Race you!' she said, and we were off, with Mummy's ‘Darlings!' ringing in our ears and dogs yapping at our heels.

We headed for the hillock where we stood when we were little, trying to glimpse the outside. Now, when we stood there and stretched up, we could see a sea of heads bobbing along beyond the wall.

‘Look at those hats!' Lilibet laughed.

There were some silly ones: a perfectly normal bowler hat, with a Union Jack stuck in the top; another with red, white and blue streamers coming out of it like a fountain. Everyone was smiling or singing. It was wonderful to know that no aeroplane would dive out of the clouds with guns blazing.

We ran back to Mummy and strolled with her.

‘Now Papa can take it easier, can't he?' I said.

She smiled. ‘I hope so, Margaret.'

‘But London's problems aren't over,' said Lilibet.

‘What do you mean?'

‘You've seen it for yourself,' she said. ‘Bombed houses mean people with nowhere to live. Bombed railway stations mean people can't get to work. A bombed school means nowhere for children to learn. There's so much to do.'

I squeezed her hand. ‘Mr Churchill will sort everything out, won't he?'

‘I hope so,' said Lilibet. ‘Come on, dogs!' And off she ran. It's nice to see her so relaxed.

Back indoors, we sat by an open window, behind the curtain, watching the crowds in the Mall. Then Mummy called us to listen to the wireless. At three o'clock exactly, the announcer said, ‘This is London. The prime minister… the Right Honourable Winston Churchill…'

And Mr Churchill, sitting in his Downing Street office, began his speech. It was long, and complicated, but I remember he said, ‘Hostilities will end officially at one minute after midnight tonight,' which sounded odd to me when everyone seems to be having a party already! He said our dear Channel Islands are to be freed today. The Germans actually invaded them and have been living there.

Then he said we can rejoice for a while, but we mustn't forget that we haven't yet beaten Japan. I glanced at Lilibet. She was nibbling her lip, and I know who she was thinking of.

Mr Churchill ended with ‘God Save the King!' and we all gave a little cheer. Lilibet and I went back to our window overlooking the Mall.

‘I've never seen so many happy people in one place in my life,' I said.

Lilibet said thoughtfully, ‘I don't believe they're all completely happy.'

I looked at her as if she was mad. ‘What do you mean?'

‘Just think,' she said. ‘All those bombed houses, stations, factories, schools. So many people lost loved ones in the war. How they must wish they were here to share the joy.'

We spotted horses and riders trying to force a way through the crowds. There were cars behind them. As the people parted to let them through, there were bursts of fresh cheering. People scrambled up lampposts for a better view.

‘Who is it, Lilibet?'

‘I can't tell,' she said. ‘Wait a minute … I know who it is! Here's a clue – big, fat cigar.'

‘Mr Churchill!' I said.

Indeed it was.

A message came: ‘Please join Their Majesties for a balcony appearance.' As we checked each other's hair, and made our way to the centre room, we could still hear the crowd. They shouted, ‘We want the King!'

The room was crowded with family, friends and complete strangers. ‘Ready, girls?' said Papa.

‘But they're shouting for you,' said Lilibet.

‘We come as a package,' said Papa. ‘Come on, the four of us.'

The doors were opened, and as we stepped forward, the roar of the crowd was so loud I felt I could almost touch it. We waved and waved, and then suddenly, the whole crowd joined together, singing, ‘For He's a Jolly Good Fellow'. I got a lump in my throat.

We made several more balcony appearances. It might have been my imagination, but when Mr Churchill eventually managed to join us, the roar of delight from the crowd was even louder than before. Then they hushed. He stepped forward and bowed to the people. They exploded with more cheers!

He stood between Mummy and Papa (thank goodness he didn't have one of his smelly cigars) and I think he was taken aback by what someone in the room behind called an ‘emotional outpouring'.

The whole day was a muddle, with people in and out, and tea and sandwiches being served at odd times. When evening came, the most wonderful thing happened. Searchlight beams pierced the sky, and for once they weren't looking for enemies. They shone in celebration! Floodlights lit the palace. Mummy had changed into a white dress and tiara, and she sparkled in the lights.

‘Fireworks!' Lilibet pointed. ‘How long since we've seen fireworks!'

We could barely hear the firework explosions because of the din of the crowd. More and more people joined them.

After our umpteenth balcony appearance, Lilibet had the best brainwave ever.

‘Crawfie,' she said, grabbing our passing governess, ‘come and stand up for me.' She went to Papa. ‘May we go out there?'

He looked at her as if she'd gone mad. ‘Out there?'

‘Listen to them shouting for you,' she said. ‘They love you. They love us. We couldn't possibly come to any harm.'

‘We?' I said. ‘Me, too?'

Lilibet turned. ‘Of course you, too!'

Papa looked at Mummy. Lilibet looked at Papa. I held my breath. Cousin Margaret had heard, too. She gripped Lilibet's arm and waited for the answer.

Papa looked around the room, at Mummy, Crawfie, and finally at Lilibet. ‘You may –' he began.

Lilibet, cousin Margaret and I jumped up and down with excitement, but Papa went on, ‘You may, as long as Margaret's brother goes, too. Crawfie, you'll go, won't you?'

She nodded, smiling.

‘Take a lady-in-waiting, oh, and a couple of Guards officers…'

In the end, a whole gang of us went out, including Uncle David (Mummy's brother), some uniformed Guards, Papa's equerry, who carried his umbrella everywhere, Margaret, Andrew (her brother), Lilibet and me. We slipped out of a side gate, and we girls linked arms as we walked up the Mall, just following our noses. At one point, I looked at Lilibet in her uniform, and cousin Margaret all grown up, and remembered times before the war, when we played circuses together at Balmoral. The world has changed since then.

But tonight was for fun! We joined in singing ‘Roll Out The Barrel', and ‘Run, Rabbit, Run'. I know all the words. I remember dancing to ‘Knees Up Mother Brown' along Piccadilly, past a burning dummy of Hitler and a little white dog wearing a Union Jack coat! How different London looks all lit up. We joined a conga line and danced into the Ritz Hotel through one door and out again through another. Boats on the Thames hooted and sounded their sirens, but you could barely hear them for the noise of the revellers!

It must have been after midnight before we were standing with the crowd looking up at dear old Buckingham Palace, with all her war wounds lit up by the floodlights. The balcony, draped in gold-fringed scarlet, looks tiny from down below. The crowd shouted, ‘We want the King,' so we joined in!

‘We want the King!' I bellowed. At one point I glanced at Lilibet. Her eyes were glistening as she stood quietly amid the racket. I guessed she must be thinking, ‘I want my prince.' I squeezed her hand.

She smiled quickly, and a voice nearby said, ‘See that girl? She looks like Princess Elizabeth.'

‘Time to go, I think,' said Uncle David, his voice hoarse from singing and cheering. We went to a gate and Lilibet said to the policeman on duty, ‘May we go in, please?'

His mouth fell open, which made us laugh. And when I walked past him and said, ‘Thank you,' it fell open even more!

It was a wonderful, wonderful day.