‘What’s to do?’ old Louisa Clough demanded, taking her clay pipe from her mouth. ‘There’s noan an air raid, is there, Miss Bancroft? I didn’t hear nowt.’
Stanley Henderson had also come to his door to see what all the fuss was about. ‘It’ll be that Arthur Egerton rolling home drunk wi’ his bike light not dimmed again,’ he said with a laugh. Mrs Egerton, in the house next door, glared at him.
Bobby raised her voice. ‘Listen to me, everyone! We need as many fit, strong men as possible for a rescue party. There’s been a terrible accident.’
Gil Capstick frowned. ‘What’s up, Miss?’
‘One of the bombers from the base – it’s gone down up on Bowside. We saw it, Charlie and I. The weather’s too bad for their base to send a plane for them. If there are people alive up there, it’s up to us to get them down.’
Stanley peered towards the mountain, squinting. ‘Reckon she’s right. Summat’s on fire up yon, any road.’
‘Right.’ Gil snatched up his coat from a hook by the door and came out to join them. ‘In that case, I’ll make one in any rescue party.’
‘A crash on t’ mountain, eh?’ Mrs Clough said slowly, puffing on her pipe. ‘There’ll be none on ’em walking home after that, lass. It’s a death sentence.’
‘But we have to try, don’t we?’ Bobby said. ‘Could you all go back to bed and rest easy if there’s even a small chance there could be survivors?’
‘Nay, not I.’ Stanley came out to join them. ‘I might not be young but I’m lish yet. I’ll make another.’
He was followed by Arthur Egerton from the house next door and some of the other men.
‘It’s five miles up and same back again,’ Mrs Clough said. ‘Three-hour climb up in t’ dark, fog and rain, and then you’ve to get down wi’ a body. Reckon tha can carry grown men five mile down a mountain at night-time, does tha, Arthur Egerton? That’s if there’re any on ’em left alive, which I doubt.’
‘Better than I could go to sleep knowing I never went up to find out,’ Arthur said stoutly.
‘Well, happen I’d better fetch t’ owd man if rest o’ thee are fool enough to go up there,’ Mrs Clough muttered, turning to seek out her husband Wilfred elsewhere in the house.
Bobby smiled gratefully at the men who’d volunteered.
‘Thank you all,’ she said. ‘There’s no time to waste. Gil, can you run to the ARP shelter and fetch the stretcher that’s there? There’s only one though. How many are in a bomber crew?’
‘It was a Wellington that went down – Mark IC, most likely,’ Charlie said. ‘That means six men.’
‘I’ve a couple o’ strong poles and an old tarpaulin out back that I could stitch up into summat,’ Mrs Egerton said. ‘I’ll need a good half an hour or so to make it strong enough to hold a man, mind.’
‘I’ll fetch thee some blankets,’ her neighbour Mrs Henderson said. ‘If there are injured men to come down, they’ll need wrapping up warm.’
‘That’s good thinking. Thank you both,’ Bobby said. ‘Stan, Arthur: you and Gil can go on ahead with the stretcher from the hut, and the oil lamp, blankets and first aid kit. Two to bear the stretcher and one to take turns relieving them when they get tired. Three more can follow when we’ve another stretcher.’
‘Oil lamp? What about blackout?’ Stan said.
‘Oh, bugger the blackout. There are lives at stake here. I’ll take responsibility.’
‘What if there’s more survivors than we’ve got stretchers for?’
‘I doubt that,’ she said quietly. ‘I’ll try to get us more though. The worst injured are to come down first, all right?’ She glanced around the villagers. ‘Does anyone here have a telephone?’
‘Fred Midgeley’s on t’ phone, but he’s away selling his beasts in Skipton,’ one of the women said. ‘Tha’ll have to go up to t’ Black Bull.’
‘Moorside’s nearer.’ She turned to Charlie. ‘Charlie, I need you to take Arthur’s bike – I’m sure he’ll be happy to loan it – and ride home as quickly as possible to use Reg’s phone.’
‘All right. Who am I phoning?’
‘The police, I suppose. Hopefully they’ll be able to contact the airbase and let them know where the plane went down. When you’ve done that, phone Topsy Sumner-Walsh.’
‘What can Topsy do?’
‘I want you to find out from her what facilities there are at the big house now for injured men. They’ve been fitting it up as a hospital for the last six weeks so there’ll be beds, at least, and hopefully bandages and stretchers. Tell her to pack up whatever she can find that might help – pain relief drugs, dressings, iodine, stretchers – and drive them here. And tell her she and Mrs Hobbes are to prepare to receive their first patients.’
