charlie_cochrane: (Default)
I really enjoyed Megan's Call to Arms story, The Man Who Loved Pigs. When MI5 wireless operator Mike Bernsey meets a stranger in the London Blitz, it feels like something special. Eddy’s unforgettable. But for Mike, there’s no love without betrayal.

So, what inspired this story?

Tough question. I made a big mistake with this one and decided to write a story for Manifold’s anthology without consulting my Muse first, which pissed her off big time. I said, “Hey Muse, I need inspiration for a World War II story, please!” and she was like, “No way. What makes you think you get to pick what you write?”

So I grovelled to her for a couple of months, reading ‘home front’ books written in the 1940s to give her a few prompts, and finally she latched onto the fact that household food waste was used in England in WWII to feed the pigs. I assumed that in the countryside, the pigman from the nearest farm would go round with a bicycle and trailer collecting from a bucket of scraps outside each garden gate, and The Man Who Loved Pigs was born.

Eddy, the pig-loving farm worker with a special background, then stayed the same through to the final version, although all the other circumstances changed again and again. When I say my Muse was pissed off, I mean it. Everything she gave me was historically inaccurate. I had to scrap the first version because in that one, Eddy and Mike met in the retreat from Dunkirk, and half way through the story I discovered Eddy couldn’t have been there. Then I found that farmers didn’t collect the food waste at all—the local council did it, because it had to be processed before it was fit for the pigs. So a second beginning, where they met while Eddy was collecting the scraps, fell apart too. I then started another version with Eddy’s situation the same as it is in the story you’ll read, but with Mike in a different role. And I did some more research and found that couldn’t have happened, either.

So by the time my Muse caved and gave me a plot that actually worked, with the two of them meeting in a gay pub in Soho in the Blitz, it was scarily close to the submission deadline and I’d lost track of where any of the ideas came from. I suppose the short answer to your question—what inspired my story—is “desperation.”

2017-08-03 15.15.14

Do you have a family connection to WWII?

My parents were small children during the war, and they mostly remember the rationing, which of course went on into the 1950s. My mother, who was otherwise Cardiff born and bred, remembers spending several years in Northern Ireland (and temporarily developing the accent) because her shipping broker father had joined the Navy and was stationed at the Port of Belfast.

My other grandfather ran an iron foundry that made agricultural tools and machinery. He stayed there trying to keep up with orders as more and more British land was made over for food production. It was a difficult task without the workers who’d left to join the armed forces—they were in a protected occupation, of course, but some of them chose to enlist and others were young enough to be conscripted anyway. I’ve seen a silent film of the foundry in operation in 1950, and it was hot and heavy work!

Is there a local connection in the area where you live to WWII?

I live in Oxford, one of the few English cities that escaped the bombs. No one really knows why. There was some heavy industry in the city centre (including the Morris motor works, which I think were involved in aeroplane production) so it could have been a target. Some people say Hitler intended to make Oxford the capital of occupied Britain, so he didn’t want it destroyed. I don’t think there’s much evidence for that, but perhaps he did want to keep the old buildings standing for him to enjoy after the invasion that came so close to happening in 1940/41 (the period of my story). During the war, some government departments moved out of London into the Oxford colleges, since the men’s colleges had few to no students. Other colleges were used as temporary shelter for Londoners who’d lost their homes. The city must have seemed greatly changed. But the most noticeable signs of the war now are the memorials in every college to the students, old members, staff, and fellows who lost their lives on active service.

Megan-L-100

Megan Reddaway has been entertained by fictional characters acting out their stories in her head for as long as she can remember. She’s worked as a secretary, driver, waitress, and flower-seller, among other things, but she always has a story bubbling away at the same time.
charlie_cochrane: (Default)
Lovely to have me old cobber Julie Bozza here today. Great timing as the women's Ashes test has just started and my first proper conversation with Julie was during the end of a men's Ashes test. For those of you for whom that means nothing, it's cricket talk.

What inspired your story?

Initially I thought I might not be able to contribute to this anthology, as the Second World War isn’t exactly my area of expertise. However, it occurred to me that this was a chance to write about Leonard and Virginia Woolf, and their experiences of the War. Not only were their London homes destroyed by bombs, but their Sussex home near the south-east coast of England was often directly under the flight paths of both German and British planes.

I had been shocked to discover the reality of ‘The Black Book’ which was a German guide to invading Britain. It included the Wolves’ names in it as people to be immediately arrested once Britain was occupied. While no one in Britain knew about the book until after the war, this really brought home to me the realities of their fears.

What finally brought all this together into a story for me was seeing a photo of the Wolves’ sitting room at Monk’s House, their home in Rodmell, Sussex. The room has a luminous underwater feel to it. And that was the image that writerly me had been looking for, to tie all these great matters together into something personal and manageable.

Do you have a family connection to WWII?

As I’m sure is true for all of us, there are many connections. The one that intrigues me, though, is something that (as far as I’m aware) has never been raised or maybe even thought about by anyone else. And that is: My maternal grandfather, who was English, worked on the Home Front in Britain during the war. My husband’s maternal grandfather, who was German, fought in Siberia and tragically was declared missing in action. The fact that their grandchildren could fall in love and marry with a complete absence of controversy gives me great hope.

It reminds me that no matter the propaganda and lies that were spread at a governing level (by all sides), the actual people involved knew better, and were fully capable of judging for themselves when reconciliation was appropriate.

Is there a local connection in the area where you live to WWII?

We live just up the road from Brock Barracks in Reading, Berkshire. Over the years, they seem to have been involved in just about everything! Among other things, I was very interested to read that the Barracks were the base for a Glider Infantry Regiment of the US Army, as they prepared for the Normandy landings.

Reading fared comparatively well in terms of the bombings, but there was an air raid in February 1943, when a lone Luftwaffe plane managed to kill 41 people in the town centre, and injure many more.

Today we are blessed with a multicultural community which has been linked anecdotally with local refugee and resettlement camps, especially for Eastern Europeans. To be fair, though, I haven’t found much evidence that Reading was any more or less involved in this practical assistance than other towns and cities. I do like the results, though, for both the many peoples and the many foods!

Julie Bozza is an English-Australian hybrid who is fuelled by espresso, calmed by knitting, unreasonably excited by photography, and madly in love with Amy Adams and John Keats.
charlie_cochrane: (Default)
Take it away, Adam...
It’s always a pleasure to spend time with Charlie, but I’m a bit floored by the prompts for this post. You’d think “What inspired your story?” would be easy enough, wouldn’t you? Not in this particular case!


THE TOWN OF TITPU is straightforward. I’ve visited the theatre in Colditz Castle and read about what took place there, and the times ‘theatre privileges’ were withdrawn as punishment, so POW theatricals were the obvious choice - but I can’t tell you now why I ended up choosing ‘The Mikado’ except that I happen to have a copy of this excellent Opera Australia production which got me thinking. SEE’s origins, on the other hand, are mysterious even to me. I toyed with the idea of two officers from opposing armies having a brief fling and then going their separate ways, but there were too many logistical problems involved. (It would have needed more than 10,000 words, for one thing!) With two men on the same side but different ranks it got easier; also there were any number of German convalescent facilities where people were encouraged to swim naked in icy lakes, and that gave me a potential setting. I like the ambiguity of SEE, and the fact that nothing is resolved; there must have be a lot of incidents like that in wartime, when people looked back afterwards and wondered if whatever it was had really happened or if they’d only imagined it!

As for family connections to WWII, though, my cupboard is nearly bare. For A PRIDE OF POPPIES I was able to write about my two grandfathers and eight great-uncles; out of ten men and boys eight served in the First World War (seven in the armed forces, one as an ambulance driver) and one was killed, with one of the stay-at-homes helping to keep the railways running and the tenth still being at school. World War Two is a different matter, though; as far as the eye could see that generation ran only to daughters and boys too young for military service! I had an uncle in the RAF who I think may have been involved in the ‘mutiny’ in 1946 (more research is indicated), but otherwise you have my parents – mother in a reserved occupation as an insurance clerk and dashing home to pull pints in the family pub on evenings and weekends, and father...

Well, my father was red-green colourblind, which ruled him out of military service altogether. He was also in a reserved occupation, being one of many family members employed on the railways. My grandfather was Traffic Manager at Bristol Temple Meads throughout the war, and my father seems to have had a ‘roving brief’ which involved helping out in Traffic Management anywhere from Paddington to Liverpool. His war diary, such as it is, comprises nights sleeping on office floors, lifts hitched on footplates in the early mornings, asking his mother to send him a clean shirt by the 7.15 or the 5.39, and - when he could find the time - roaring around on his motorbike playing the clarinet in various pubs.


That wasn’t all, though. He joined the Home Guard, and that was how he got the biggest scare of his life when he was coastwatching on the cliff. Those who watch ‘Broadchurch’ will be familiar with the churchyard perched high above the sea and the hill behind it; it’s supposed to be in Dorset but – like a lot of Broadchurch – it’s actually in Somerset. My father was coastwatching on the top of that very hill in the middle of the night when he saw a light flashing on and off in the churchyard, repeatedly, in a pattern. The logical conclusion was that it might be a spy signalling to an enemy submarine, which of course was precisely what he was there to look for. Anyway, the upshot was that my dad ended up creeping silently down the hill, slipping round the back of the church and tiptoing across the graveyard hoping to observe the malefactor - he didn’t have a hope of apprehending anybody, because of course he wasn’t armed. It was a bright moonlit night, though, which must have helped.

It’s a lot of build-up for not a very big payoff. When he crept up to the gravestone where the spy was hiding, it was clear there was nothing to worry about; what he ended up apprehending was the lid of a biscuit tin, caught in vegetation and being blown back and forth by the breeze. One might ask if his Morse was all it could have been, and why he didn’t realise it wasn’t a proper signal in the first place, but that doesn’t take away from the courage required to sneak down into a churchyard at dead of night, without weapon or backup, to find out what was going on - and I’m sure the whole war was like that, quiet acts of bravery going unnoticed even by the people involved in them.

So, that’s my one and only exciting war story; in the middle of an otherwise uneventful night, my dad – at the age of about twenty – briefly became this country’s first line of defence (Heaven help us!), and nobody has ever really known about it until now!

St Andrews Church, Clevedon, Somerset

Copyright 2010 ThePokerbird/flickr.com.

Imaginist and purveyor of tall tales Adam Fitzroy is a UK resident who has been successfully spinning male-male romances either part-time or full-time since the 1980s, and has a particular interest in examining the conflicting demands of love and duty.
charlie_cochrane: (Default)
I first 'met' Jay through Pride of Poppies and I have fangirled him ever since, so it's a proper treat for me to host him here. His answers really choked me up.

What inspired your story?

I thought I had two stories already mapped out for 'Call to Arms', but one of them had to be jettisoned when the idea for 'An Affirming Flame' arrived, much more suddenly than usual (in general my stories take a long time crystallising). What really kicked it off was the behaviour of British government in 2016, trying to limit the numbers of unaccompanied refugee children entering the UK, but behind that was a long-term knowledge of the Kinderstransport, which brought Jewish children from Hitler's Germany to Britain, and of Aktion T4, the modern name for the programme of mass murder of disabled adults and children by 'euthanasia' in Nazi Germany. Add to the mix of Auden's poem which I quoted at the end, and there you have what I was trying to say.

'Buttercup' is much more light-hearted and was sparked off simply by thinking about Sasha Regan's all-male production of HMS Pinafore which was set aboard a WWII warship as if performed by its crew. I needed a lift after the research for the other story!

Do you have a family connection to WWII? I probably have more of one than I think – I know more about my grandfathers' WWI service, although they were still young enough to serve in WWII. My parents were both evacuees and talked about what their fathers did in the war more than what their mothers did, and when I knew my grandmothers I never got round to asking them what they did in the war, let alone what it felt like to be left on thir own.

Is there a local connection in the area where you live to WWII?

Weston-super-Mare (June 1942), Bristol (November 1940-April 1941) and Bath (April 1942) were all bombed – those are the nearest cities or big towns. Bristol was an obvious target really, with the harbour and the Bristol Aeroplane Company there. Bath and Weston are usually considered to be two of the "Baedeker raids" although there were aircraft industries in Weston, which was also the site of the main cable office between England and the US.

Nearer to home a lot of the high ground near me was training land. It's rather sobering to think how different it must have looked in those days and to wonder what would have happened to me. If I had been born in Germany I might well have fallen foul of Aktion T4, and even in this country I'd have probably been in a "Home for Crippled Children" or some such. It makes me glad I'm here and now!
charlie_cochrane: (Default)
When I was sending out questions to my fellow Call to Arms authors, one of them (Julie Bozza?) asked me to answer the same ones myself. So here we go.

What inspired your story?

Several things. The kukri that my dad owned (he’d fought in Burma alongside them although I don’t think he brought this weapon home with him) which now lives under the spare bed. The bomb crater that’s in the woods about a mile from here – our house is on a bomb alley for dropping unused ordnance after an attack on Southampton docks. Last, but by no means least, is the war grave I tend, that of Billy Clegg-Hill. How I ended up looking after it, given his history and mine is either an extremely felicitous coincidence or a piece of divine intervention.

Do you have a family connection to WWII? 

My dad was just too young to sign up in 1939 so went into the TA. He then joined the regulars, served on Tyneside (where he met my Mum) and was posted to the far east. Like many soldiers, he didn’t speak much about his experiences, except on a relatively trivial level, like stories about snakes so thin they got into your boots. Some of Dad’s comments made it into my story.

My uncle Bill was involved in the Arnhem campaign and my uncle Les also signed up towards the end of the war.

Is there a local connection to WWII where you live?

In a word, loads. I could fill several blog posts with stories just concerning what happened at the local school. I was fortunate enough a few years back to read the old school log books, and they painted a vivid – and poignant – picture of life at the time. There were around 40 air raids recorded and one child is said to have died of fright several days after experiencing a raid en route to school. There were US troops billeted in the woods at Toothill – a pair of them went AWOL and broke into the school, stealing food and cutlery. Most tellingly, the local roads saw huge movements of vehicles in the lead up to D-day.
charlie_cochrane: (Default)
I have been greatly enjoying reading Call to Arms - I got to Eleanor's stories the last few days and they're smashing. So it's particularly appropriate that she's my guest today

What inspired your story?

When I saw the call for submissions, I wanted to do something with the idea of telegrams - it’s one of the strongest images in my mind when the war is mentioned. The knock on the door and the sinking feeling that something has gone terribly wrong. Pairing my telegram messenger with a nurse just seemed right somehow, as they could both often be bearers of bad news. I was also very aware of how recent the previous war would have been, and that those wounds would still be fresh! 

I also wanted to check back in with Henry and Rosie from one of my stories in Manifold’s previous war anthology, A Pride of Poppies. They were young and just discovering their feelings for one another during WWI, so I wanted to see how they’d grown up and what their lives were like - and, of course, change those lives completely. And we get to meet Henry’s brother Peter properly, too!

Do you have a family connection to WWII? 

My family doesn’t have many direct connections to the fighting in WWII, because it happened when one generation was too young and the other just slightly too old. They did, of course, live through it! One of my grandmothers tells a wonderful (if slightly infuriating) story about taking shelter in the doorway of a glass-fronted pub in London with her friend as bombs fell. She describes hearing them crashing to earth in the next street along, coming along the length of the road, terrifyingly close. “We were across the road from the public shelter,” she adds, “but we didn’t want to go in there.” So she took cover in a pub made of glass? “I suppose it was a bit silly, really. We probably should have gone in the shelter.”

We also have a letter from the police in a frame upstairs, explaining that said grandmother’s husband was only late for his war duties one evening because he was held up by an air raid and therefore shouldn’t face disciplinary action. It seems he took it in with him when he finally arrived! It’s bizarre to think that at the time, an air raid was filed under ‘acceptable reasons to be late for work’, along with roadworks and traffic jams.

Is there a local connection to WWII where you live?

I live in Essex, and apparently it’s one of the places in the country where you are most likely to dig up an unexploded WWII bomb. So, that’s good to know! It makes sense, because besides having a load of strategic targets (like the docks), it’s also right on the Luftwaffe’s flight path to London and back. If you didn’t fancy tangling with the larger numbers of anti-aircraft defences in the capital, it would make perfect sense to drop your bombs here - or if you had any left on the way home! (Charlie's note - same here!) 

Eleanor Musgrove is a full-time unpaid carer who writes in the snatched moments between medications. Her first novel, Submerge, was published last year by Manifold Press, and she’s working on something completely different now! You can find sporadic updates on her blog at  and on her Patreon.
charlie_cochrane: (Default)
I'm delighted to say that several of my fellow Call to Arms authors will be guesting at my blog over the next week, and doubly delighted to say that my first guest is our editor, Heloise.

What inspired your involvement with Call to Arms, Heloise?

It wasn't exactly inspiration! I had joined some of the editors and authors from Manifold Press at a writing retreat weekend in Devon - here, which I thoroughly recommend - and one evening the talk drifted to future plans for anthologies. When someone (it may even have been me) mooted a WW2 anthology, the next question to arise was "Who'll edit it?", at which point I either forgot the great Forces motto "Never volunteer" or failed to step back fast enough, because the next thing I heard myself saying was, "I don't mind doing that."

I thought I probably could, because I had edited a volume of short stories by friends before (The Bodleian Murders) but it was quite a big leap taking on a collection where there were going to be some authors I knew, and some I'd never met and am never likely to.

So here, some considerable time later, we are. Although I will say, that if it wasn't inspiration that got me involved with Call to Arms, it was certainly inspiring being involved with it: the blip of excitement when a story came in, and then the team-work: the bigger excitement of working with the authors to get the story as good as they could make it, the great mystery ("What the heck can we call it, then?" - at one point we had a dozen possible titles lined up ... ) - and of course the satisfaction of finding the perfect cover and of seeing the whole thing come together thanks to the team. Wonderful!

Do you have a family connection to WWII?

Where shall I start? Both my parents were from south-east London and both were evacuees. My mother was not yet two when the war started, and because she and one of her brothers were so young (Arthur was five) they and their mother were evacuated to South Wales (Gilfach Goch) together. I went there in the early 90s to look around, and found someone who'd been christened in the same church as my mother and I were - he'd stayed on after evacuation and eventually married a local girl. Mum's Dad was in the Navy, on counter-mines duty in the north-east, based at Rosyth. My father was evacuated first to Surrey and then to South Wales (Llanbradach). His father was called up into REME (Royal Electrical & Mechanical Engineers) when he was 40, in 1940, and thereby hangs a bit of a family saga which I won't go into at the moment .... Dad's Mum spent most of the war as a VAD nurse with a mobile unit, going in to bombed houses and looking after casualties. I know that on one occasion she had to go to a bombed school where 38 children had been killed, but I know that from my father: Grandma never spoke about it.

Mum's dad in all his jaunty glory!

dav

Is there a local connection in the area where you live to WWII?

Let me take you on my daily 10-minute commute by car ... once out of my close and into the road, at the next T junction I am facing the shore establishment HMS Sultan, which was RAF Gosport during WW2. Turning right and left and right again, along the next road I pass Bay House School, which was a wartime base for the Royal Engineers. Left at the roundabout and along Stokes Bay where, if the tide is out, it's possible to see one of the concrete platforms built for the Mulberry Harbour launch prior to D-Day. A couple of minutes later I pass the end of Jellicoe Avenue, which is so wide these days because it was originally built to take a double line of tanks, again in preparation for D-Day. Nearer the site where I work, on one side of the road was the Royal Naval Physiological Laboratory, where some - can't be too polite here - really rather bonkers scientists investigated the effects of underwater explosions, mostly using themselves as guinea-pigs - and on the other side is work. The library I curate is housed in a Victorian mansion which was taken over by the Admiralty in 1939 and used as a nursing home for the WRNS staff at HMS Dolphin, the RN Submarine Service base down the road.

Heloise Mezen has been immersed in words ever since she learned to read, which was before she went to school. Under her real-life name she had her moment of glory twenty years ago when her second book was shortlisted for the Guardian Children's Fiction Prize, and nowadays she contributes to the ... and other Oxford Stories series as part of the Oxford Writers' Group, of which she was a member for many years. She works as a (possibly the only) rare books librarian for the Royal Navy, and enjoys researching her family history - Mezen is her great-grandmother's maiden name - and eating too much chocolate.
charlie_cochrane: (jury of one)
I am beyond excited for this, especially as I have a story idea.

Found this informative and moving piece as I did some research.
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