From what he could see Wilhelm had Tom in a head lock, while Tom was lifting Wilhelm off the ground.
'Quiet it down twenty paces, bugger me,' said Jack softer now 'what were you two doing?'
'Well we were just showing each other what we would to the Russians, if they get here.' said Tom
'Don't talk silly lad. They won't get here, Hitler couldn't and didn't!'.
A few days later, the canteen was packed, BBC vans parked outside.
They all knew what was going to happen, after all Workers Playtime had been on the Home Service for years now, the only question was who was going to be here today. Trying to get near the stage was difficult but not impossible. Jack could see the bandstand double H on the music stands, that was the music sorted out then, he thought.
'Sodding heck' muttered Jack 'not them two.'
'What was that Mr Smith' said Wilhelm
'Gert and bloody Daisy. I can't stick them'
'My mum likes them' said Tom
'Your mum would' said Jack
The announcer stepped right up to the microphone. 'Ladies and gentlemen, Workers Playtime.'
Well over an hour later they were back at work. A lot of the women there were still hanging around wanting to talk to, or even just to touch Henry Hall.
Jack was now dividing his time between two of the hangers, the one with the engines and the other, were he was teaching fabric work.
Yes the Anson's were out of date for bombing but still one of the best aircraft to teach navigation and wireless operators. They still needed someone in the turret just in case. He was glad it was no longer himself. He had been up there too many times as far as he was concerned. There used to be a little extra in his pay packet. A few bob more was not enough to make up to Gwen if he was dead, let alone to his young children.
Later in the week, there was much excitement. Three cars turned up the second, a Rolls, contained the King.
The King toured the airport talked to many people including himself. The newsreel was there as well. It captured his conversation the his majesty, genial small talk. It meant so much to Jack, the proudest moment of his life!
It then came the bitter news.
The King was dead.
On the way back from Cambridge, travelling towards Royston a horse had got loose. The Kings car tried to miss it and had gone in to one of the high hedges that lined the road. Even as John Snagg
read the news his voice wavered. There then followed an address by the Prime Minster, which ended 'The King is dead. Long live the Queen.
A new page of history had turned.
What would Stalin make of this? Something about the oppression of the working class no doubt and how they were now liberated, What a bastard, Jack was thinking.
A lot of tears, when he got to Wilbraham.
The reign of Elizabeth II had begun.