World War II Tales: The Barrel Burglary

By Terry Deary and James de la Rue

From the bestselling author of Horrible Histories, named 'the outstanding children's non-fiction author of the 20th century' by Books For Keeps
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Ideal for readers aged 7+

Stories of the Second World War on the Home Front from the bestselling Terry Deary, author of the hugely successful Horrible Histories. A story of the old soldiers who made up the Home Guard, and the young people who helped them. The Home Guard of a small town need supplies but the local factory owner won't help. So they decide to use unconventional methods...
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'Bubbling with wit, language play and robust dialogue....just the right mix of ingredients to trigger young readers' interest in all things historical' - Books For Keeps

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing
• Release date: Apr 9, 2015
• ISBN: 9781472916280

Terry Deary

Terry Deary is the author of over 200 fiction and non-fiction books, which have been published in 32 languages. His historical fiction for older children Tudor Terror has been praised as "a marvellous blend of fact and fiction" (School Librarian). His non-fiction has been consistently in the best-seller lists since 1994. His Horrible Histories celebrated their 15th anniversary in 2008, having sold over 10 million copies worldwide and been adapted as television series, theatre tours and museum exhibitions. Terry Deary was voted "Outstanding children's non-fiction author of the 20th Century" by Books for Keeps magazine.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Barbed wire and body-bits

1941 – Sunderland in the North-East of England

Jack Burn’s granddad was 55 years old, and that was too old to fight in the war. ‘I could still fight you know,’ he told Jack that morning.

Jack sighed. ‘I know.’ Granddad said that just about every morning.

‘In the last war, the Great War, I was a sergeant. Colonel Morris said I was the best sergeant in the Durham Light Infantry. The best. My men were the smartest, the bravest, and they shot straight as this poker,’ the old man went on.

He pulled the poker out of the fire. It was glowing orange and he used the tip to light his pipe.

‘The poker’s bent,’ Jack said. The boy’s thin, pointed nose twitched as the smell of burning tobacco crept into his nostrils. His ears were small but they stuck out a long way from his head. His short-cropped hair made them look like jug handles.

The man sucked on his pipe and smacked his lips. ‘Ah, that’s better.’ He sat back in the worn old armchair and watched the blue smoke drift up to the ceiling of the kitchen.

‘Of course in the Great War we spent a lot of time sitting in trenches. Now in this war they are charging around in aeroplanes and tanks, jumping with parachutes and attacking on landing craft from the sea.’

Jack sighed, ‘I know,’ again. He had seen the barbed wire strung along the beach to stop the enemy running up the promenade and into the town.