Wes, these HAVE been spell-checked, I just need to be sure spellchecker isn't giving me garbajje.

Keep 'em coming folks.... here's one more and I'm taking a short break before starting the next.

~S~

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WAR BEGINS

The day started out just like any other Sunday. We all slept a little late; Mother cooked bacon, eggs, and fried bread for breakfast, which I hungrily wolfed won so I could go into our back garden to play—just like any other Sunday.

I walked across the grass, past the flower beds, and into Dad's beautifully-kept vegetable garden. We lived in a neighborhood of row homes, built facing outward on three sides of a square. All the back gardens adjoined, making it possible to view about 30 of them. Normally, on a Sunday morning, the garden area would be full of men tending their plants, mowing their grass, drinking their morning tea, calling to their neighbors, or just chatting to each other over the low fences.

But this Sunday was different—the backyards were quiet and deserted. No one was outside tending their flowers and vegetables, no one was drinking their tea, and gone was the pleasant sound of neighbors talking to each other. That is, with the exception of old Mr. Threfall, whose garden ran across the bottom of ours.

"Good morning, Jack," he called from his seat on a bench he had placed under one of his fruit trees.

"Good morning, Mr. Threfall," I replied.

"Why don't you come over for a while?"

I climbed the fence and sat down beside him. "Where is everybody this morning, Mr. Threfall?" I asked, knowing he would take the time to explain anything I asked him. Old Mr. Threfall – I always thought of him as old—was my friend, and the only adult other than my Mother and Father who talked to me as though I were a grownup and not a ten-year-old boy.

"Didn't you listen to the wireless this morning, Jack?" he asked.

"Just for a minute, Mr. Threfall. There was no music on, just a lot of people talking."

Mr. Threfall chuckled. "Well, Jack, everybody is probably in their houses listening to the news. It appears Britain will soon be at war with Germany."

I pondered this information for a while. My only knowledge of war had been gained from films I had seen, the study of the Great War (World War I), and the few stories my father and a couple of uncles had told of their experiences in France.

"Why are we going to have a war with Germany, Mr., Threfall?" I asked. "I thought we'd just had one about 20 years ago."

"So we did, Jack," he answered, "but it looks like we are going to have to do it again."

"Why?"

"Do you really want me to tell you the whole story, Jack?" Mr. Threfall questioned.

"Yes, please, Mr., Threfall." I had always enjoyed hearing Mr. Threfall's tales, and senses that an important story was about to be told. I hoped I would be able to understand most of it. Mr. Threfall stood up and walked to one of his apple trees. Picking two apples, he returned to his seat, handing one of them to me.

"Have you heard of a man named Adolf Hitler?" he asked, taking a bit of his fruit.

"Yes, I have, Mr. Threfall," I assured him, following his lead with my own apple.

"Well, here's pretty much what has happened." Mr. Threfall then began to explain the events in Europe leading up to that day, Sunday, September 3, 1939. Although it is impossible for me to remember his exact words, the following is the gist of his story.

As early as 1935, Germany—under the leadership of Adolf Hitler, breaching previous treaties—had reinstated conscription of its young men into the armed forces; was rebuilding its navy, with submarines on the British scale; had already created a military air force which Hitler openly claimed to be the equal of the British Royal Air Force; and was in the second year of active munitions production.

In March of 1936, barely two hours after proposing a 25-year pact with Britain, France, Belgium, and Italy, Hitler announced his intention of occupying the Rhineland. This was a corridor of land east of the Rhine River. It had been taken from Germany to be used as a buffer zone between Germany and France, Belgium, and the Netherlands, but the Armistice Treaty after the 1914-18 Great War.

Two years later in March, 1938-- one month after Hitler had assumed supreme command of the German armed forces-- Austria was invaded and soon conquered. Meanwhile, Britain and France did nothing, believing Hitler's assurances that this wold be the end of his territorial ambitions in Europe.

About this time a conference, attended by representatives of France and Italy and by Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain of Britain, and Hitler, convened in Munich, Germany. During this conference Hitler gave a written assurance that "This (Austria) is the last territorial claim I have to make in Europe."

Upon Mr. Chamberlain's return to London, he was pictured in a newspaper photograph waving a piece of paper over his head containing Hitler's written assurance, and declaring, "It is peace in our time."

Early in March, 1939, German armed forces invaded Czechoslovakia and, by the end of the month, had subjugated that entire country.

On March 31, 1939, Chamberlain (who was finally convinced that Hitler meant war), backed by the French leaders, gave a guaranty to Poland that if it was attacked by Nazi Germany, Britain (and France) would immediately come to Poland's aid. Poland was attacked by Germany at dawn on September 1, 1939. The mobilization of all British forces was ordered the same morning. An ultimatum was given to Germany at 9:30 p.m. on September 1, and another at 9:30 p.m. on September 3.

"So you see, Jack," Mr. Threfall concluded, "Hitler has invaded Poland, and that is why the whole country's ears are glued to the wireless this morning."

"I think I understand now, Mr. Threfall, "I said. Then I went on to tell him that my father maintained that everyone knew that Hitler would have to be stopped, so why had Britain and France done nothing to help Czechoslovakia, which had a reasonably well-equipped army, but were now willing to back Poland whose idea of military tactics at that time was a cavalry charge.

"Well, Jack, I'm sure I don't know; I suppose Mr. Chamberlain thought he was doing the right thing." Mr., Threfall didn't sound convinced.

For over a year the vast majority of Britains' working class-- including my parents, their friends, and our relatives-- had had no doubt that a war with Germany was inevitable in order to stop Hitler's territorial ambitions. They were exasperated at their government's do-nothing attitude and it's total failure to prepare for the coming confrontation. Dad's opinion was that Neville Chamberlain was too naive about world affairs to be an effective leader. Mother was not as generous in her assessment of his abilities, invariably referring to Mr. Chamberlain as "that silly old fool."

Mr. Threfall and I were still sitting on his bench chatting, when Dad came bursting through our back door and ran down the garden toward us.

"We're at wear, Mr. Threfall," he shouted as he ran. "We're at war!"

Mr. Threfall looked at his watch. "It is 11:30, Jack" he said. "Remember the time, 11:30."

Dad leaned over the fence. "The Prime Minister has just said that we have been at war with Germany since 11 a.m. and that our troops are already reporting to their units," he informed us. Mr. Threfall and Dad then started to discuss the seriousness of the situation.

I listened for a while and then, climbing back over the fence, walked back to the house to see if Mum had anything to eat.

* * *

My mother made a sandwich for me but before I had eaten it, a strange, frightening, prolonged wailing noise broke upon our ears. I ran to the back door, followed closely by Mum and my younger brother, who were as scared as I was, down the garden to where Dad and Mr. Threfall were standing—their conversation now impossible to continue in that awful din.

"What is it, Dad?" I yelled in his ear to make myself heard.

"It's the air raid warning siren," he screamed.

"Will we have an air raid, then?" I loudly asked as the rising and falling wailing sound slowly died away into silence.

Mr. Threfall looked at the four of us. "Maybe it is only a test of the siren," he said.

We all stood in silence, gazing at the sky. Around us some of our neighbors emerged from their homes and also looked upward. Nobody spoke, as each of us was nervously alone with our thoughts.

After about ten minuets had passed the wailing broke out again, only this time it was a single, high-pitched note. "That's the all-clear signal," dad said. "Well be alright now." Mum sighed with relief.

We never did find out if a few German planes had paid us a visit, or if it was indeed a test of the warning system as Mr. Threfall had thought. Although we didn't realize it then, we were destined to hear that dreaded sound many, many times in the years ahead.