The Last Wolf by Margaret Mayhew

Author:Margaret Mayhew [Margaret Mayhew]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Severn House Publishers
Published: 2012-06-08T16:00:00+00:00

1943

Liverpool was a grim place. On the train journey from London, a Royal Navy rating, sitting with Stroma and six other Wrens in the compartment, had given them the gory details.

The Luftwaffe bombers had been going for the city ever since the war started, he’d said. Given it their full and undivided attention. The air-raid siren had never stopped wailing and the poor old place had copped it eighty times at least.

‘Adolf’s been after Merseyside and the docks, see. He wants to stop our ships landin’ supplies there from across the Atlantic. We can’t use our ports in the south no more – not since the Jerries nabbed France.

‘The Luftwaffe came over Liverpool for eight nights in a row – hundreds of German bombers each night. Buildings blown to bits, corpses lyin’ in the streets, people trapped in the ruins, old folks and little kids coppin’ it with the rest of ’em, fires ragin’ all over the city, thousands left homeless. Knocked the stuffin’ out of the place for a while, I can tell you. Only Hitler didn’t reckon with the Liverpudlians, did he? Didn’t know about ’em. They’re a tough lot. Soon got back up on their feet. ’Course, it’s all been kept out of the newspapers, so nobody else knows nothing about it, but you’ll see for yourselves what’s been happening.’

They saw indeed. Rubble, craters, shattered glass, boarded-up windows, blackened and burned-out buildings. It was raining hard and the cobbled streets were running with water that was choked and filthy with ashes and mud.

A truck took them from Lime Street station to Wren quarters in the Navy barracks. They’d been sent to become plotters at a secret Royal Navy and RAF Combined Services headquarters controlling the Western Approaches but, as Stroma had discovered from the other Wrens on the train, none of them knew exactly what plotting involved, nor did they know anything about the Western Approaches. A Wren Second Officer enlightened them with the aid of a wall map and a pointer.

‘It’s all to do with protecting our Atlantic supply convoys. Our convoys haven’t been able to use our southern ports since the Germans occupied France and parked themselves on our doorstep.’ The pointer tapped along the French coast. ‘Brest, Lorient, Saint-Nazaire, La Pallice and Bordeaux have all become well-fortified German U-boat bases, very close to England and with direct access to the North Atlantic. So, the convoys have to head up round the north of Ireland and go into Glasgow and Liverpool instead.’

The pointer moved again.

‘The Western Approaches is what we call this rectangular area of ocean off the western coast of Great Britain, where the enemy’s U-boats are trying to blockade our supply ships. With some success, I’m afraid. Fortunately, we now have the eyes and ears to find out what they’re up to and take action accordingly, and lately the U-boats have been suffering pretty substantial losses. All clear, so far?’

They nodded.

‘Plotting is where you come in. You will be marking the position of

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