Daisy and the Unknown Warrior by Tony Bradman, illustrated by Tania Rex

For the fallen - and their families

First published in 2020 in Great Britain by Barrington Stoke Ltd 18 Walker Street, Edinburgh, EH3 7LP www.barringtonstoke.co.uk Text © 2020 Tony Bradman Illustrations © 2020 Tania Rex The moral right of Tony Bradman and Tania Rex to be identified as the author and illustrator of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988 All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in whole or in any part in any form without the written permission of the publisher A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library upon request ISBN: 978‑1‑78112‑960-9 Printed by Hussar Books, Poland

CONTENTS

Chapter 1

1

Chapter 2

10

Chapter 3

19

Chapter 4

27

Chapter 5

36

Chapter 6

45

Historical Note

56

Chapter 1

It was a cold morning at the end of October 1920, and Daisy Robinson was taking her two younger brothers to school. She had to go to school as well, of course, so you could say they were on their way together. But Daisy was in charge.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, you two, hurry up!” she said. “Mr Jones will be ringing the bell soon, and he’ll be cross if we’re late.”

“Don’t blame me,” snapped William. “It’s Albert who’s hanging about.”

1

“You shut up, William!” said Albert. “You’re horrible and I hate you!”

A tram went rattling past on its way to Highgate Hill. The streets of North London were full of people on their way to work and school under a gloomy sky. There had been an overnight frost, the first of the autumn, and the pavement glittered with tiny stars of ice. The air was foggy with the coal‑fire smoke that curled up from all the chimneys. The war had been over for two years, but London and the people who lived there still looked grey and tired.

William and Albert had stopped and were having another argument. Daisy sighed. Her brothers could be so irritating. William, with dark hair, was eight, three years younger than her but nearly as tall, and he always argued back. Albert was six; he had fair hair like Daisy.

He was also tall for his age, and he was always worrying about things. Daisy wished she didn’t

2

have to spend so much of her time looking after them, but Mum really needed her help.

“Right, last one to school doesn’t get any tea tonight,” said Daisy at last. She ran down the street but not too fast so the boys kept up with her and weren’t left behind. They ran into Mafeking Road, and then Daisy let her brothers beat her to the school gates.

3

When she got there, they were waiting for her, out of breath and laughing, happy once more.

“We’re the winners!” said William. “So it’s no tea for you tonight, Daisy!”

“Oh well, I’ll just have to go hungry then, won’t I?” said Daisy with a shrug. “Now you’d better run along and line up with the rest of your class.”

William grinned and dashed into the open yard beyond the school gates. They called it the playground, but really it was just a courtyard covered in black tarmac. The school was five storeys high: a dirty, sooty red‑brick building with two doors. One was for BOYS, and the other was for GIRLS – the words were on the stone lintels above the doors. Children were lined up in front of them, waiting to go in.

“I don’t want you to be hungry, Daisy,” Albert said softly as he slipped his little hand 4

into hers. His face was full of worry. “I’ll share my tea with you tonight.”

“Thanks, Albert,” said Daisy, ruffling his hair. “That’s very sweet of you, but there’s no need. We were just joking. Now you’d better run along and line up too.”

Albert smiled up at her and did as he was told. Daisy watched him line up. Both her brothers wore the same kind of clothes as the other boys – thick jackets, woollen jumpers, grey shorts, long socks and thick boots. Daisy wore a thin coat and an old dress, short white socks and her only pair of shoes. Everything was a bit small for her, but Mum didn’t have the money to buy new clothes.

Daisy walked into her bit of the playground just as Mr Jones, the headmaster, came out of the school. He was short, round and bald, and was carrying a hand bell. He rang it – CLANG‑A‑LANG‑A‑LANG – and that was the signal for everyone to go in, class by class.

5

Daisy nodded to her friends but looked over at her brothers, smiling to herself at how much they looked like Dad … Thinking of Dad made her smile vanish. She wished she hadn’t thought about him just then, and now it was too late. She’d be thinking about him in class now and not listening to the teacher.

As she went into the classroom and sat at her desk, all her old sad feelings flooded in.

Dad had been dead for two years, and she was more upset than ever about it. She was angry too. Why had he joined the Army and gone off to fight in such a stupid war? He should have stayed at home with her and Mum and William and Albert …

Daisy knew, though, that couldn’t have happened. She’d been just five years old when the war began in 1914, and she didn’t really remember those days. But Mum had told her what that time was like. Most people were excited about the war, and lots of men were

6

keen to fight the Germans. Dad wanted to join up as soon as possible. Mum had been expecting Albert, though, and she’d made Dad wait.

In the end, Dad signed up in the summer of 1915, and from then on they didn’t see him

7

much. Daisy remembered the last time he’d come home on leave, in 1918. He was thin and very tired. Yet he’d still sung her his favourite song, the one she’d been named after: “Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer, do, I’m half crazy, all for the love of you …”

Three weeks later they were told he was missing, presumed dead.

Like thousands of other soldiers in the war, Dad’s body had never been found. So they’d never had a funeral for him, and to this day they didn’t know where his body was. Daisy often wished they could have said goodbye to him somehow …

“Are you all right, Daisy?” she heard somebody say, breaking into her thoughts.

Their class teacher, Miss Wilkins, was standing in front of Daisy’s desk, looking worried.

“Yes, Miss,” said Daisy.

8

Miss Wilkins nodded and got on with starting the day for her 45 pupils. They chanted their times tables, did some mental arithmetic and listened to a Bible story. Daisy liked school and tried her best to concentrate, but nothing could make her feel better today. Sadness hung over her like a dark cloud.

Then Miss Wilkins told them something, and she started to pay attention.

9