We'll Meet Again
stockings, lisle . . . shoes, black clumpy . . . The list went on and on. And to think that she'd chosen the WAAF because the blue uniform looked so smart! When war broke out, seventeen-year-old Christie could have stayed down on the family farm in Norfolk, where she was wanted and needed. So why had she joined up? Come to that, why had Meg from Cheshire, and Sue, very much the big city girl from Liverpool, and Shanna, the life-toughened product of a broken home in Glasgow? Mixed reasons. Very mixed backgrounds. But no time to think now. Not with the sergeant shouting and the station air-raid siren beginning to wail . . .
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Air Force airfield Alan Aldford Andy Andy’s Angela anyway arms asked began better billet bird bloody can’t Celia Chris Christie thought Christie’s Christmas cold cookhouse dark Denman didn’t door drive eyes face feel feller felt flying Frank gharry girls glanced grinned hadn’t hair hand happened he’s head I’ve isn’t Jacko kissed kit-bag kite knew laughed leaned leave Lenny looked Mandy married Mary Meg’s mess move NAAFI Nantwich never nice night officer once ops room Patrick posting pretty pulled realised round Shanna she’d She’ll she’s shoulder sighed sleep smiled someone station stop suddenly Sue’s suppose sure talk tell Thanks there’s they’re thing told tomorrow took train trying turned voice WAAF waiting walked wasn’t watch we’ll we’re What’s whilst won’t wonder worry wouldn’t you’ll you’re you’ve