Vets Might Fly Read online

  two big, strong, remarkably good-loo king young men, so my fears were

  groundless.

  The little nurse looked at me quizzically. I think she had forgiven

  me.

  "I suppose you think all your calves and foals are beautiful right from

  the moment they are born?"

  "Well yes," I replied.

  "I have to admit it I think they are."

  As I have said before, ideas do not come readily to me, but on the bus

  journey back to Scar borough a devilish scheme began to hatch in my

  brain.

  ~I was due for com passionate leave, but why should I take it now?

  Helen .~:would be in the Nursing Home for a fortnight and there didn't

  seem any sense in my mooning round Darrow by on my own. The thing to

  do would be to send myself a telegram a fortnight from now announcing

  the birth, and we would be able to spend my leave together. ~ It was

  interesting how my moral scruples dissolved in the face of this

  attraction, but anyway, I told myself, where was the harm? I wasn't

  scrounging any thing extra, I was just altering the time. The RAF or

  the war effort in general would suffer no mortal blow. Long before the

  darkened vehicle had rolled into the town I had Up my mind and on the

  following day I wrote to a friend in Darro nged about the telegram.

  a hardened criminal as I thought, because as the days creep in. The

  rules at ITW were rigidly strict. I would found out. But the prospect

  of a holiday with Helen Nide rations.

  rrived my room mates and I were stretched on our i O :) ,N`eat voice

  boomed along the corridor.

  walk c , ~ (j et's have you, Herriot!"

  I hadn't reckoned on Flight Sergeant Blacken i whisky?" ~O ~ Oo ~

  maybe an LAC or a corporal, even one of the "Whisky? No ~ ~ ~not the

  great man himself.

  "Well you've gone tan unsmiling martinet of immense nature I something

  to eat." 'jvo inch frame, wide bony shoulders and a "No, no, no

  thanks, I've got . ~minish. It was usually the junior NCOs Vets who

  dealt with our misdemeanours, but if Flight Sergeant Blacken ever took

  a hand it was a withering experience I heard it again. The same bull

  bellow which echoed over our heads on the square every morning "Her

  riot! Let's be having you, Herriot!"

  I was on my way at a brisk trot out of the room and along the polished

  surface of the corridor. I came to a halt stiffly in front of the tall

  figure.

  "Yes, Flight Sergeant."

  "You Herriot?"

  "Yes, Flight Sergeant."

  The telegram between his fingers scuffed softly against the blue serge

  of his trousers as he swung his hand to and fro. My pulse rate

  accelerated painfully as I waited.

  "Well now, lad, I'm pleased to tell you that your wife has had her baby

  safely."

  He raised the telegram to his eyes.

  "It says 'ere,

  "A boy, both well. Nurse Brown " Let me be the first to congratulate

  you." He held out his hand and as I took it he smiled. Suddenly he

  looked very like Gary Cooper.

  "Now you'll want to get off right away and see them both, eh?"

  I nodded dumbly. He must have thought I was an unemotional

  character.

  He put a hand on my shoulder and guided me into the orderly room.

  "Come on, you lot, get movie'!" The organ tones rolled over the heads

  of the airmen seated at the tables.

  "This is important. Got a brand new father 'ere.

  Leave pass, railway warrant, pay, double quick!"

  "Right, Flight. Very good, Flight." The typewriters began to tap.

  The big man went over to a railway timetable on the wall.

  "You haven't far to go, anyway. Let's see Darrow by, Darrow by . . .

  yes, there's a train out of here for York at three twenty." He looked

  at his watch.

  "You ought to make that if you get your skates on."

  A deepening sense of shame threatened to engulf me when he spoke

  again.

  "Double back to your room and get packed. We'll have your documents

  ready."

  I changed into my best blue, filled my kit bag and threw it over my

  shoulder, then hurried back to the orderly room.

  The Flight Sergeant was waiting. He handed me a long envelope.

  "It's all there, son, and you've got plenty of time." He looked me up

  and down, walked round me and straightened the white flash in my cap.

  "Yes, very smart. We've got to have you loo kin' right for your

  missus, haven't we?" He gave me the Gary Cooper smile again. He was a

  handsome, kind-eyed man and I'd never noticed It.

  He strolled with me along the corridor.

  "This'll be your first 'un, of course?"

  "Yes, Flight."

  He nodded.

  "Well, it's a great day for you. I've got three of 'em, me self.

  Getting big now but I miss 'em like hell with this ruddy war. I really

  envy you, walking in that door tonight and seeing your son for the very

  first time,"

  Guilt drove through me in a searing flood and as we halted at the top

  of the stairs I was convinced my shifty eyes and furtive glances would

  betray me. But he wasn't really loo king at me.

  "You know, lad," he said softly, gazing somewhere over my head.

  "This is the best time of your life coming up."

  We weren't allowed to use the main stairways and as I clattered down

  the narrow stone service stairs I heard the big voice again.

  "Give my regards to them both."

  I had a wonderful time with Helen, walking for miles, discovering the

  delights f pram pushing, with little Jimmy miraculously improved in

  appearance.

  Everything was so much better than if I had taken my leave at the

  official time and there is no doubt my plan was a success.

  But I was unable to gloat about it The triumph was dimmed and to this

  day I have reservations about the whole thing Flight Sergeant Blacken

  spoiled it for me Chapter Fifteen "You must have to be a bit of an

  idiot to be a country vet' The young airman was laughing as he said it,

  but I felt there was some truth in his words. He had .

  been telling me about his job in civil life and when I described my own

  working hours and conditions he had been incredulous. .

  There was one time I would have agreed with him wholeheartedly. It was

  nine o'clock on a filthy wet night and I was still at work. I gripped

  the steering wheel more tightly and shifted in my seat, groaning softly

  as my tired muscles complained.

  Why had I entered this profession? I could have gone in for something

  easier and gentler like coal mining or lumber jacking. I had started

  feeling sorry for myself three hours ago, driving across Darrow by

  market place on the way to a calving. The shops were shut and even

  through the wintry drizzle there was a suggestion of repose, of work

  done, of firesides and books and drifting tobacco smoke. I had all

  those things, plus Helen, back there in our bed-sitter.

  I think the iron really entered when I saw the carload of young people

  setting off from the front of the Drovers; three girls and three young

  fellows, all dressed up and laughing and obviously on their way to a

  dance or party. E