A Che ning Ad nture
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Reflections of Hope and Courage
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Chapter 4
Andrew was the first to slip down the stairs, two at a time, winking at the twins as he descended.
“He always was a good actor!” smiled James.
“You seem to have recovered well Andrew. OK team, clean your hands first and then refreshments, before we start on the shelters,” bayed the Colonel.
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This would have been the start of the Year 5 trip to Penshurst for a ‘Bushcraft’ experience. That was before all trips were cancelled due to the virus. This year the key-worker children would have to ‘make-do-and-mend’ on the school field instead.
The Colonel had been brought up in an era when nothing was wasted and recycling was the norm. Like all things, there is a cycle in play; and terrible scenes such as plastic littering the oceans had prompted the current generation to look again. Gretta Thunberg as well as the Extinction Rebellion group had made quite an impact – even holding the centre of London for a week through protest. No one thought it was possible; and yet now, a microscopic foe had held the whole world still and at bay for months! Suddenly there were no planes in the sky or people on the streets, no jobs to go to for most.
Chevening School had been planning some eco-initiatives just before lockdown – ecobricks, refill stations, recycling and much more. Little did they know, the field and playground had seen all this before.
The twins walked alongside Mr E, through the gates, to where he had been working earlier. They passed an enormous hole where the caretaker had been taking out the old ‘bus shelter’ in order to install a new, larger one - by himself – as no contractors were allowed on site. It was back-breaking work but Mr E had been transforming the school methodically, piece by piece.
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The Colonel had laid out some sheets of canvas and old rope. He had pegged out separate spaces for the children to make their makeshift shelters for the night. They raced to find branches and foliage to build, disguise and insulate their constructions. The twins braved the nettles to get to the wild mound where all sorts had been buried over time. James tugged at a large, mostly submerged plank just visible through the undergrowth.
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“Why do you always go for the most difficult things?” complained Sarah as she helped him to wrench the wood free. James admired the quality of his prize but Sarah was intrigued by a little bronze plaque attached to it. She rubbed it clear of mud to see the engraving. “Who do you think ‘Pinkie' was?” she asked while examining the rectangle of bronze.
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“No idea. Let’s ask the Colonel. He’s as old as the hills!” replied James.
It turned out that in the war the school had been raising funds to buy a pig. Earning money through recycling and selling paper meant that they had enough for a pigpen. But there was more to tell...
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As it grew dark the Colonel explained about the last time there had been a make-shift camp on the field. “The pigpen was over there because this part of the playground was used by the Defence Volunteer Force - for drills. Chevening School used to be the Head Quarters of the Home Guard you know. Sometimes they would take pot-shots at rabbits. It was good for practise as well as food! Meat could be scarce back then and there always plenty of rabbits around. It was just as well the home guard were based here because otherwise they would never have saved that British pilot in time. His plane crashed into Polhill but the he managed to bail out before and drop into the lake. The boys rescued him just in time. That lake’s freezing!”
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The sound of applause drifted across the field, carried by a restless wind. But it wasn’t from a ghostly audience gripped by the Colonel’s tales. Rather it was the out-pouring of gratitude for those fighting the unseen enemy; the brave health workers battling to save lives from the invisible virus. Checking his watch, the Colonel took the signal as his cue to bring the evening to a close.
“Well troupe, it’s about time you all got to sleep. Enough stories for tonight. Time to get to your pens! And no messing about with your torch lights. We don’t want any Morse chatter tonight.”
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James and Sarah’s heads were buzzing with what they had seen and heard since discovering the cave and codes.
“chhq - both messages had those letters in them,” whispered James.
“What do you think it means?”
“Perhaps it’s an acronym? You know HQ, for Head Quarters and…”
“CH for Chevening!” exclaimed James.
“Quiet down there laddie – get to sleep,” barked the Colonel.
“CH for Chevening,” repeated James, whispering again. “It’s got to be. You know there was definitely something funny going on around here. Something secret. It had to be and I’m going to find out what.”
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“We should try the number that was hidden in the photo,” suggested Sarah. Questions, thoughts and plans swirled and merged as the twins finally gave in to tiredness and fell fast asleep.
