The Khaki Coat

I walked along the cobbled street, no particular destination in mind, just ambling along glancing in the odd shop window or two. I stopped as something caught my eye, a small box with a shiny medal was tucked in the corner besides a rather garish looking vase and a doll with a haunted look on its face.

The medal appeared to be a George cross the type issued to soldiers during the War. My mind cast me back to my youth when I had been a carefree young girl, skipping through meadows on a summers evening making daisy chains and lying in the long grass watching the sunset. My heart skipped a beat as I fondly remembered Roger, he was my childhood sweetheart, we met when I was 15, he was slightly older than me, at 18 he had his own motorbike and used to help his father deliver the milk. Before we started courting I would make sure I was outside when he delivered the milk at 6 a.m on the dot, just so that I had the chance to talk to him, I would hear the clip clip of hooves as the old horse Dusty who pulled the milk float approached.

As soon as Roger saw me he would give the brightest smile you could imagine, it would have lit the whole sky had it been dark, butterflies would fill my stomach and I would barely be able to utter a good morning to him.

It was the morning of the best and worst day of my life, it was my 16th Birthday the door knocked and my mother called me from the garden, saying that Roger was here to see me.

I entered the house with a cheery smile, the fragrance of summer following me in the door. Roger stood in the kitchen a bunch of flowers in his hand, it was this morning that he proposed to me, he got down on one knee and asked me to be his wife, I managed to gasp a "yes" and he slipped the loveliest of rings on my finger. I held my hand up admiring the Diamonds as they sparkled in the sunlight seeping through the kitchen window.

Roger had asked my father a week before for my hand in marriage as this was the done thing in those days, the ring had been his great grand-mothers,and he had got it adjusted especially to fit me, he also said that he had the days date engraved on the inside as he was that certain I would say yes.

Later that afternoon we received the unfortunate news that Roger had been called into service, to fight for Queen and Country in the War. He was to leave in just two days. This flipped turned upside down my world, my Darling Roger was leaving, I barely had time to get my head round things before he was gone.

Waving him off on that Platform at the Train Station was heart wrenching, I didnt know if I would ever see him again, but I had to remain positive, he gently kissed me and we exchanged I love you's and he promised to marry me as soon as he returned.

As we had our final hug I placed a gold chain around his neck and on the chain was a a St Christopher. Engraved on the back it read " To my darling Roger, pray God keep you safe and return you unharmed so that we may Marry"

As the train slowly departed from the station I watched as Roger waved until the train was out of sight. I thought that I could never cry so much in my life, I was wrong, as that was the last time I ever saw my beloved Roger.

He was killed 5 months later and his body was never recovered, his company was wiped out in one hit during an air raid on the town he was in.The day I received the news of his death, this was the day I cried until I thought I would never stop.

I dont know how long I had stood outside that shop window reminiscing, I wiped a tear from my eye and something within me compelled me to enter the little shop, I pushed the door open and a bell tinkled to announce my arrival. I started browsing through the racks when I saw a khaki coat tucked behind several other jackets. I removed it from the rack and it looked the type that my Roger had worn on that last day I ever set eyes upon him. He did look ever so handsome in his smart Khaki Army Uniform.

I've no idea what came over me, but I slipped the jacket on, it was still too large for me, even over my own jacket I was wearing. I put my hands in the pockets, and even though they were empty I could still feel something in the left pocket. Confused I removed the jacket and felt the lining. Yes there was definitely something there, sewn within the lining of the pocket. Now I had become curious. I looked at the price tag £2, well that was that, I handed my money over to the assistant behind the counter, she tucked the jacket into a bag and smiled as I handed over the cash.

"That has only been here a day" she told me, " it came in with a few other bits and bobs from a gentleman's attic, he was cleaning it out for his grand-father, terribly sad the old chap had been sent to live in a care home and all his things cleared out" this sort of stuff tends to sell well as people like it for memorabilia or using for those re-enactment days" I asked her how much for the medal. She told me it was £5, so I purchased that too, I dont know why, but something deep at the back of my mind was telling me to, my great-grandson would say it was my spidey sense tingling, he did make me laugh with his quips.

I made my way home and once there I made myself a pot of Tea, there was nothing more relaxing than having a nice cup of tea after a good browse around the shops.

I removed the jacket from the bag and set to work undoing the stitching of the pocket. Once undone I felt inside and was able to grasp hold of what felt like a thin chain, it appeared to be wrapped inside a bit of paper. I unfolded the piece of paper which turned out to be a handwritten note.

The necklace I suppose used to be gold but now it was a bit tarnished there was a pendant attached to the chain but it was a bit grimy. The note was a tad faded, but I was able to read some of what was left.

It went like this " almighty God, I pray I return safe to my beloved, but should thou decide it's time for me to return to your side I beg you to please keep my darling Doris safe and be it that she know I'm sorry I couldn't be there,but will always be with her in spirit, Amen"

It's funny as my name is Dorothy but was known as Doris to my friends, I set about cleaning the pendant, it was a St Christopher and there was some writing Engraved on the back, my eyesight is not what it used to be so I had to fetch my glasses to be able to read it.

"To my darling Roger, pray God keep you safe and may you return unharmed so that we may Marry"

Well let me tell you, my poor old heart nearly gave out on me, this can't be real, this was the very same St Christopher I had given to my Roger. It can't be, he was never found, a million and one thoughts ran through my head, could my Roger be alive, surely not he was believed to have been vaporized into nothing, if that was so, how was his jacket here?

Tears welled in my eyes and a lump grew in my throat. If Roger was alive or had made it back, why hadn't he came looking for me?

I found my phone directory and looked up the phone number for the charity shop. I found the number and with an unsteady hand I typed it in and hit the call button.

The shop assistant answered so I asked if it would be possible for her to provide me with the details of the person who handed the khaki coat and medal in, she said unfortunately the person was just a walk in client and donations had been given but no details taken. Disheartened I thanked her and hung up the phone.

I took a seat at the table and gave a large sigh, I thought I had found my Roger, how silly was I to think that after all these years he may still be alive.

But then it was like a little voice in my head said " use the phone directory "

I leafed through the directory and looked up all the nearest care homes. Surely after all these years Roger hadn't been on my doorstep the whole time. It didnt bare thinking about.

I was inconsolable following the news of the death of my darling Roger, you see a month after he left I found out I was pregnant, now in those days it was a major sin to have relations out of wedlock, let alone have a child. So my mother sent me away to live with my Aunt in Norfolk, where I had my daughter and raised her. I know I was terribly young when I had her, just a couple of months short of my 17th birthday, but Roger and I were in love and he was going away to war and it was our first time, I never regretted it. I eventually went on to marry a lovely man called Eric and had two children with him when I was in my 20s. But Eric unfortunately got cancer several years ago and had passed away.

Now the odds of Roger actually surviving that blast and still being alive, and seemingly living in a care home in Norfolk were 1 million to one. Yet something in my heart told me it was true, I thumbed through the phone book and found the phone numbers of 5 different care homes in my area. I decided that if Roger had been living nearby then it could only potentially be one of those five.

I rang the first 3 numbers with no luck, I dialled the 4th number and with baited breath waited for the phone to be picked up, a chirpy young voice answered the phone announcing that I was through to Gemma at the Westlakes Care Home. I asked her if they had a resident called Roger Hadfield who had recently became a resident. She told me that yes in fact they did have a Roger Hadfield residing there, I explained that I was an old friend of his and would very much like to come visit him. She said that would be lovely but warned me that Roger barely spoke to anyone and was quite withdrawn. I arranged to go the next day, as I simply couldn't wait any longer. 60 years had passed and I couldn't contain my heart for one more moment.

I barely slept that night, memories churning through my mind of my love for Roger and the fond times we shared. I woke up at 5 a.m as I always had, I couldn't really eat much breakfast as my tummy felt like it was alive with a thousand butterflies. It was now 7 a.m and my visit wasnt until 10 a.m. Oh my word did that time drag. I found a photograph that we had taken the day before Roger had left, so I put this along with the locket and medal in my bag.

My grand-daughter Ella had agreed to take me to the home as she thought I ought to have some company because she was concerned that I was going to be terribly let down and so wanted to be present for moral support.

I heard a toot outside that announced the arrival of Ella. I checked my hair and make up in the hallway mirror and gave myself a spritz of my best perfume. I was finally ready, hopeful that at last I was about to be re united with Roger.

We arrived at Westlakes Care Home and parked the car,Ella took me by the hand. She asked me if I was ready for this and I replied to her that I had been waiting for this moment for 60 years and I had never been more ready.

We checked in at reception and was then ushered to a room along a corridor, I must say that this seemed to be a rather nice home, lovely decor and atmosphere, the young lady from reception walked over to a gentleman sat in a large red wing backed armchair gazing out the window, she announced to him that he had some visitors, he made no response, she invited us to sit down and said that she would be back with a pot of tea.

This was it the moment had finally arrived, as soon as I had walked in that room I knew it was him, now I was sat looking at him, underneath all the wrinkles he was indeed my handsome Roger, tears welled in my eyes and I was barely able to open my mouth to utter the words " Hello Roger, it's me your Doris" there was no response, not even a blink. Ella took my hand as if sensing my disappointment seemingly knowing that my already battered heart was about to shatter into a million more pieces. I took Roger by his hand and slipped into it the chain and St Christopher I had given him all those years ago. It was then I noticed he seemed to be paying attention, he lifted his hand to look at the pendant, a tear welled in his eye and tumbled down his cheek. I spoke again telling him that I was Dorothy and I had given him the chain many years ago. He turned his head to look at me, his dull rhumy eyes now looking straight into mine, was it my imagination or was there a slight flicker of recognition there. I carried on talking reminiscing of past times we had spent together, and I showed him the photograph of us together, whilst I was talking Roger was turning the pendant over in his hand. I was mid sentence when Roger suddenly grasped my hand.

"Doris, my Doris is that you" he uttered I was too stunned to speak straight away " yes Roger it's me, your Doris" I replied.

I will never forget the look on Rogers face, it lit up with that beaming smile that brightened my mornings all those years ago. I leant over to him and we embraced our tears mixing together neither of us believing that we had finally found each other.

The young lady returned with the pot of tea and seemed taken aback at the change in Roger.

My granddaughter poured us all a cup of tea, and I then told Roger that we had a Daughter and this young lady was in fact his grand-daughter, no words can ever express the love and joy that filled the room that day.

It turns out that Roger had suffered amnesia during the blast that had lasted a long 12 months, he never had fully regained all his memory. When he returned to England his parents had left London to live in Dorset, and so that's where he went and settled down, meeting the lady he would marry and having a son.

His jacket and medal were kept in a box in his parents attic until they had passed away, and then they had transferred to Roger's attic.

Later on in his life he moved with his family to Lowestoft where he settled and thats when he started having memories of the beautiful young girl he had proposed to, this had a knock on effect with his wife and unfortunately it made them drift apart and eventually seperate, Roger was left tormented by broken memories and so grew older living alone, knowing there was something missing but never finding it. Until one day he was no longer able to cope living alone. His son had found a very nice care home especially for veterans for him to spend the rest of his days, items from his attic were donated to charity, and so this is how that Khaki coat ended up in the shop.

I visited Roger several times a week, and slowly he started remembering more and more about his past and what happened to him. He did say that he stitched the chain inside his jacket for safe keeping. Our love for each other was back in full bloom, we married the following week in a small ceremony with close family in attendance. He used that very same ring and it still fit perfectly. Roger wore his George cross medal which he had received for his bravery and service during the war. Finding me gave Roger a new lease of life and so he left the care home and came to live with me. Back with my beloved Roger where we were meant to be.

If I hadn't looked in that shop window and bought that Khaki coat I may never have found him.