The Round Loaf

By David Hockey

A short novel about three boys seeking a spy in Britain in 1940. Set in Cornwall, two boys are held by a German pilot until he escapes by U-boat. Guessing that he was helped by a collaborator they use various methods to search for him.

• Language: English
• Publisher: David Hockey
• Release date: May 3, 2016
• ISBN: 9781310857485

David Hockey

Eighty five years and still going! Air Force, industry, teaching, government and freelancing. But retirement is best, as I hope you will find. When I had more energy I built my own home and looked after a very big vegetable garden. Nowadays I like to read, write, travel, play a Clavinova, talk with my children and grandchildren and think. (Probably thinking comes first.) I’ve written technical and travel articles, training programs and a long autobiography. David

Book preview

The Round Loaf

David Hockey

Published by David Hockey at Smashwords

Copyright 2016 David Hockey

Also by David Hockey:

Developing a Universal Religion:

Why one is Needed and

How it might be Developed

Sam's Dream

Bob of Small End

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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The Round Loaf

Chapter One. Monday July 22, 1940

Jack skidded his bike to a stop, leaned it against the hedge that ran along the front of the farm’s yard and ran to the kitchen door. He knocked and waited until Mrs. Forester, one floury hand holding a towel, opened it.

Hello Jack. Come to see Bob? He’s collecting the eggs. Shouldn’t be long. You can help him if you like.

Okay, thanks. I’ll do that.

He ran along the path that crossed the back garden to a gate that led into a field. Two hen houses were to the right of the gate; Bob was shutting the hatch to one of the nest boxes. Four trays holding eggs lay on the ground beside him.

Hi Bob. Tide’s out right now. It’s time to have another look.

Oh, hello Jack. Okay. We’ll go as soon as I’ve taken these in. Can you take two of the trays?

Once inside the kitchen Mrs. Forester said, Put them on the side table Jack. I’ll check them when the bread’s in the pans. Now, Bob, don’t be late home. You’ve got to help your dad with the pigs after lunch.

I know, mum.

And keep together. Don’t want anything happening to either of you.

Okay mum. ‘Bye.

They walked across the yard to the far side of the barn and followed the hedge that separated two fields heading towards a small wood that lay between Mr. Forester’s farm and the sea.

What did your mum mean when she said she doesn’t want anything to happen to us Bob?

Ah, she’s afraid that the Jerry pilot will be hanging around here. I told her he’d be far away by now. He was downed three days ago.

Where would he go?

To a collaborator somewhere or he might have pinched a boat and rowed out to sea. Any letters from your dad?

No, not for three weeks. We don’t know where he is, somewhere in Europe. When he writes home he’s not allowed to say anything about what he’s doing or where he is.

Yes, of course. I guess all the letters home are censored anyway. Did you get new batteries for the torch?

Yes.

They climbed the barbed wire fence that separated the field from wood, carefully avoiding its sharp spikes. A narrow track led them through the trees towards the coast. As they neared the far side Jack said, Climb the lookout tree Bob. I’ll get the spade.

The lookout tree was a tall, easily-climbed beech that stood close to the edge of the wood. Half way up one could overlook most of the other trees and see if anyone was coming along the Coastal Trail that ran along the top of the cliffs separating the farms from the sea. Going to the shore was forbidden these days and the boys didn’t want to be seen. The path to the beach was guarded by a partly-buried pill box located close to the top of the path. The only time the box was manned was when the Home Guard had an exercise and that was usually at night.

As Bob made his way to the lookout tree Jack climbed the branches to the treehouse that he, Bob and Bob’s father had made two years ago. The house had a trapdoor, a window and a roof of corrugated iron. It was their own special hide out, roomy, about eight by six, and there was an old cupboard, two chairs and a small table inside. Ever since the war begun last September they had not been allowed to go to the beach so they often ate their picnic lunches there. Now, in late July, they were less worried about being seen and frequently sneaked down to the cove. They went there because Mrs. Grant, their English teacher, had told them to read Treasure Island then write an essay about looking for treasure. Jack loved the story and became a dedicated treasure hunter. This part of the Cornish coastline was an excellent place for that kind of thing for everyone knew that smugglers used to hide goods in the caves. Jack didn’t expect to find gold or silver there but he thought there might be a few barrels of brandy buried under the sand at the back of a cave. Bob didn’t think they’d find anything, but, if Jack wanted to search, so did he.

Jack reached the trap door and swung it back. It landed on the floor with its usual bang and he poked his head into the room. Sitting on an old tarpaulin was a man pointing a gun at Jack’s head.

Chapter Two.

Get in, the man said. Sit there, and he pointed to the opposite corner of the room.

Jack pulled himself in then sat down, staring at the man.

Who were you talking to? the man asked.

Bob, my friend. You’re the Jerry pilot aren’t you?

I’m the pilot of the Messerschmitt that was shot down, yes.

You speak English very well.

I went to school in England when I was young. What is your friend doing?

He’s climbed the look-out tree. We’re going to the beach but can’t do that if anyone sees us.

Why are you going there? Isn’t the shore mined?

Not around here. We’re exploring the caves. Are you going to shoot us?

I hope not. What time do you have to be home?

For lunch. Bob has to be home around twelve thirty.

Well, we can’t stay here then, they’ll come looking for you and find me.

They’ll find you sooner or later, won’t they? You’re bound to be caught.

I don’t think so. I’m being collected. But I can’t let you go home you’ll tell them about me. We’ll have to hide somewhere together until I leave.

Jack,