The Silent War Read Online Free PDF

jitterbug.
    Without warning, Harry suddenly grabbed hold of Sunday’s hand. ‘OK,’ he said. ‘You wanna dance? Let’s dance!’
    Pearl and Lennie watched in astonishment as Sunday was dragged by her RAF boyfriend through the crowd of dancers lining the floor, and straight into the small group of jitterbug fanatics who were already twisting and turning and throwing themselves into a wild display of acrobatic dancing.
    With music blaring out from the loudspeaker, and the crowd of onlookers clapping their hands and thumping their feet in time, Sunday, Harry, and the rest of the jitterbug gang leapt at each other, the boys with legs wide apart and knees bent, swaying back and forth to the fast and furious beat, and the girls twisting their heels into the parquet floor, skirts and dresses swirling, holding on to their partners with one hand, and the other hand waving to and fro with the beat. One boy was even bold enough to do a somersault, only to land in a split on the floor. This brought an uproarious cheer from the crowd, which immediately prompted the other members of the jitterbug gang to venture even more daring exploits. After a while, however, the frenetic pace gradually took its toll on the small energetic group, and they were eliminated couple by couple, finally leaving only Sunday and Harry to slog it out.
    At this point, Sunday seemed unstoppable. Her whole body twisted and turned in time to the jitterbug beat, sending shockwaves of lust through every red-blooded young bloke in the hall. As the perspiration ran down her body, her cherished blue dress clung to her so tightly that it accentuated every sensuous curve she possessed. Sunday loved the feeling of total abandonment. She literally gave herself to the throbbing sounds coming out of the loudspeaker on the tiny platform, she embraced them as though they were telling her to go on and on. Although she knew her fresh home-perm would be an early casualty, she recklessly ran her fingers through her strawberry-blonde hair, yelling out a scream of ecstasy at the overpowering musical beat which dominated the room. She was the centre of attention, and she loved it. They were all out there, Pearl and Lennie and the other ‘Baggies’ – all watching, admiring, envying her. Sunday had even caught a glimpse of Ma Briggs, togged up in a tight-fitting black dress, with that same large chunky rolled-gold bracelet that she wore every day of her life. Yes, the old witch was there all right, clinging on to her young piece of trousers from the Nag’s Head pub, and hating every moment of what she was watching on the dance floor.
    Sunday was by now in a state of delirium. She was passionate about music at the best of times, but the sounds she was now hearing were sending her wild. It was much the same with Harry, for the Brylcreem from his hair was now running into the sweat that was streaming down his face. In fact, he was on such a high that he didn’t think twice about taking Sunday to the ultimate goal of the jitterbug. Grabbing hold of her hand, he dragged her to the floor, slid her entire body beneath his legs, and lifted her in one perilous movement up on to his shoulders. This inevitably brought cheers and applause from the crowd, and Sunday, arms outstretched in unrestrained triumph, lapped up all the admiration. But that triumph was to be shortlived. An alien sound had suddenly pierced the roars of excitement from the dance-hall crowd.
    ‘Air-raid!’
    The MC’s shock announcement through the loudspeaker was soon drowned by the wail of the air-raid siren.
    The atmosphere immediately changed to astonishment, for as there had been no air-raids for some time, people had begun to take it for granted that the war was all but over. Whilst the lights in the hall were being quickly extinguished, there was a sudden rush towards every available exit door. Harry quickly lowered Sunday down from his shoulders, took her hand, and tried to lead her through the crowd. But