by Paula Wynne
With another stiff jerk of his hand, the German pointed a finger downwards, indicating the space at his feet.
Steven stepped into that space. His heart raced. What was this new uncle going to make him do? After hearing all the stuff he’d told Father, he didn’t want to go near him.
‘You’ve been snooping.’
Steven shook his head adamantly. ‘No sir! I haven’t.’
Uncle Keith held up a bony finger in the air to silence him. ‘I know these things. I see these things. That was my job for Hitler. You’ve heard of Hitler, I think?’
Steven’s reply died unspoken in his throat, and he could only nod.
‘So you must believe what I say to you.’
Steven’s eyes widened, dreading what was coming next.
‘You will be rewarded well. First by a special present. Then afterwards, when you grow up you will see that the value of the reward is not an object or a gift, but in here.’
Dumbfounded, Steven stared.
Uncle Keith thumped his chest with his rolled-up fist. ‘You will know in your heart that what you do is the right thing.’
‘Wh…wh…what do you mean, sir?’ Steven hated that he couldn’t get his words out. He didn’t want his new uncle knowing how he dreaded being near him.
‘You will keep the oath that we will swear?’ Uncle Keith’s bony finger reached out and prodded Steven’s chest. Then it shot back and poked into his own chest. ‘You and me. We will swear on this. And forever in time you will keep my secrets. It is the most important job in the world for a boy like you. I believe in fate and I believe that angels watch over us. And that you have been chosen to do this.’
‘Me?’ Steven almost wanted to cry. Either that, or pee his pants. He couldn’t decide which would be worse, so he hung on to trying to do neither.
‘We do not always get a choice in these things. So, yes, you,’ Uncle Keith kept his gaze on Steven.
Silence filled the huge cavernous space in the hangar. No clanking metal or roaring engines. Just heavy breathing. Both his and his new uncle’s breathing.
‘What is…is our o-o-oath?’
‘That you will be the bearer of this secret. And you will keep it for the rest of your life. In time you may also choose a person to pass it on to, perhaps a stranger whose heart you can see is true, or perhaps your own son.’
Steven squeezed his eyes closed.
When he opened them, Uncle Keith had leaned closer and was almost nose-to-nose with him.
Steven pulled his head back onto his stiff neck and stared, wide-eyed, at the beaked nose and furrowed eyebrows.
‘That is what you will swear as your oath. Are you ready?’
Steven swallowed hard. It didn’t seem too bad. Just something about secrets. What they were he didn’t know, and wasn’t sure he wanted to know, but Father had told him he must be polite to Uncle Keith.
‘But wait…’ Uncle Keith pulled back out of his face. ‘Let me give you a special gift first, before you swear your oath. Then you will be committed.’
Uncle Keith lifted the old, stained canvas bag that he’d brought off the plane the night Father had fetched him from Germany, and that Steven had thought for a second contained a gun.
‘This has come a long way. My cousin’s husband…gave it to me on the day our war ended. Like many things that I will tell you about, it was taken from its rightful owner, and that is why it is fitting that it seals the oath you take now.’
With both arms outstretched, as if he was offering him a king’s crown, Uncle Keith reached into the bag and offered what he held in his hands to Steven.
Resting in his palms was a little red aeroplane.
68
Steven reached for the aeroplane, but Uncle Keith pulled it back. He placed it on an empty shelf which usually held tins of oil. Steven noticed the tins were now on the top shelf. He wanted to tell his uncle to be careful, that the tins might leak horrible thick gooey oil onto the little aeroplane, but his tongue was tied. All his attention was drawn to the beautiful red aeroplane. He wanted to touch it. To play with it. To see if the propeller spun around. He could already see himself tearing down the grassy runway, holding the aeroplane high in the air, waiting for it to take off.
Together they would fly.
From as far back as he could remember, he had dreamed of being a pilot. Like Father.
But Father talked only of his learning maths and English so that he could grow up to run the family’s shops, and would not buy him even the tiniest toy plane. So he had no wings with which to fly. Only his arms, but they were heavy and fell awkwardly through the air when he would spread them out and run down the airstrip.
But with this red aeroplane, that could change. And one day, when he was grown up, he, too, would be a pilot. Not to fly small planes like Father. He dreamt of flying the new fighter jets that the newspapers said might one day go faster than the speed of sound.
Uncle Keith placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. Steven snapped his head and his attention back to his uncle.
‘I came here to live with you and your father and your mother…who is my wife’s cousin.’
For a moment, Uncle Keith’s voice croaked and dried up. Steven watched the apple in his throat bobbing up and down. It was only now that he realised the German wasn’t actually so very old, certainly a lot younger than Father.
Uncle Keith’s eyes had become glassy and were glistening, as if he wanted to cry again. But men don’t cry. That’s what Father always said when something sad had happened.
After a moment, Uncle Keith swallowed hard and said in a voice so low, Steven could barely hear him, ‘Only when I arrived did I find out that your name is the English version of my old name. You see, I used to be called Steffan. And without knowing that one day I would come and live with you, your Father called you Steven.’
Steven stood with his hands clasped behind his back and listened, just like they’d taught him in school.
‘Do you think that is strange?’
Steven bit his lip, not sure if he should nod his head in a yes or shake his head in a no. He couldn’t work out what his uncle was saying. First swearing. And solemn oaths. Then he had given him the aeroplane but taken it away before Steven could touch it. From there, he’d started rambling on about their names being the same, even though they weren’t.
‘Do you want to fly, boy?’
It was like a slap across his face, except good. Steven’s eyes lit up for the first time. His uncle could see his answer without him having to say anything.
‘Maybe you will become a fighter pilot one day.’
In a spontaneous outburst, Steven saluted his uncle and bellowed, ‘Yes, sir!’
Uncle Keith burst out laughing and tussled his hair. That was a good thing. Adults only did that when they were happy with the kid’s answer.
‘I believe that you will. Although I will give you your wings today, they come with a heavy load which you must carry. Has your father told you about bombers? They carry a heavy load.’
Steven burst out, ‘Yes! Father told me those men wake up and get into their planes expecting to never see home again. When they reach their target they are at the mercy of enemy fighters, their lives in the hands of fate, yet they still take off.’
Uncle Keith looked surprised at his outburst, but Steven could not help himself as he exclaimed, ‘Only England’s best pilots became bombers. They are the bravest men in all the land.’
‘Then, Steven, from today we shall call you Bomber. Like me, you have a new name. Would you like that?’
Steven mouthed the word. Bomber. It sounded so odd. So strange, yet powerful. He answered quickly before Uncle Keith took away his new name. ‘Yes, I want to be brave and strong. Just like a bomber,’ his gaze strayed to the aeroplane.
‘I will show you the secret you must carry soon, Bomber. But first you must know something.’
Without moving his head, Steven’s gaze latched back onto his uncle.
�
�Your father is a brave, brave man for rescuing me. Although they are mistaken about me, still many people want to get hold of me. But your father saved me. He is a hero, Bomber. You understand that?’
Steven remembered the night he had spied on them and seen Father bringing this uncle off the plane and into their lives. He remembered how Father and Uncle Keith had agreed that he could no longer be Steffan Sommer. Instead, he was to become Keith Balmaine.
Mother had started calling him Keith the minute he was introduced to her. Father sometimes stumbled and called him Stef… and then, with a cough, quickly changed it to Keith. One day, when Father had been brushing his teeth, Steven had heard him chanting “Keith, Keith, Keith” through the toothpaste froth.
Ever since then, Steven had pondered long and hard why anyone would want to change their name.
‘I don’t want to frighten you, Bomber, but I must tell you some things, so you know how important it is to keep these secrets. As I told you, many people are hunting me, and at any moment I may be put in prison or even killed. I will not sell these secrets to the wrong people just to preserve my own skin. Rita did not preserve me for that! Yet this means I must ask you to bear my cross.’
Steven’s bottom lip curled down. He didn’t want to carry a cross. In Sunday School they taught him how Jesus had carried his cross for miles, and then the Roman Soldiers had nailed him onto it. No, he really didn’t want to carry any cross, especially one from this strange Nazi.
Uncle Keith’s voice rasped, ‘The secret must never, ever, fall into the wrong hands. It is a map, a map with…special powers.’
Steven’s ears pricked up, but he wasn’t going to ask what powers. Not yet, anyway. And it was rude to interrupt an adult who was taking their time to explain things to you. Mother scolded him all the time for doing that. Besides, this uncle was too scary to interrupt.
‘Powers that you will only understand when you are a grown man. The map will be hidden down in the bunker. With papers and documents of mine. Now, these other documents are only important for my eyes, but that may change. Perhaps one day I will show them to you. The map, on the other hand, is vastly different. Whatever happens, you have to protect the map. If needs be, with your life.’
Steven swallowed hard. He clutched his arms around his chest and stuffed his fingers into his armpits.
‘Bad people may come. They will ask questions about me. They will trick you with all kinds of ways to make your tongue loosen and part with our secret.’
Steven clamped his jaw shut. He didn’t want anyone touching his tongue and couldn’t imagine it being loose. A sudden need to run away and hide gripped him, but his feet seemed stuck to the ground.
‘They will try and get these secrets from you, so the map must be kept hidden.’
Without meaning to, Steven blurted out, ‘What’s so special about a map?’
Steven wanted Uncle Keith to hurry up, so he could play with the little red aeroplane. The Nazi looked at him and whatever he saw made his face soften. Unexpectedly, his new uncle didn’t seem so frightening. He was almost nice.
When Uncle Keith finally answered, he said it so softly that Bomber almost didn’t hear him.
‘It’s…a treasure map.’
69
April 1990 Little Hollow Airfield
Matt listened to Bomber reciting his story while still clutching his coffee mug. So engrossed, he didn’t realise it had gone cold, as Matt’s had done.
Then Bomber fell silent.
Matt stared at him. ‘Okay, first, is that how you got Dad’s aeroplane?’
Bomber smiled; his eyes sad. ‘My aeroplane that your dad won in a bet. Yes.’
‘So it came all the way from the war.’
‘My guess is, from some little kid who was a prisoner. He lost his precious toy, so I guarded it like gold. Then, when your dad won it in our bet, he did the same.’
‘And then, when Cami saw it on our mantelpiece, she stole it because her father had a similar aeroplane taken from him in the war. Luke found it in the boot with him and stole it right back!’
Bomber chuckled, ‘I remember you saying that you confronted her about it. Not that you needed to,’ He grew serious again, ‘Glynn blabbed all he knew in exchange for a reduced prison term, so it was in all the newspapers.’
Matt nodded, remembering the swarms of reporters he’d had to hide from. ‘You don’t think it could be the same one, do you? That would be so weird.’
Bomber remained silent. Matt could see his jaw clenching. After a moment he said, ‘I think there’s a good chance that it is the same one.’
‘How come?’
‘I’ve been doing some checking. My Uncle Keith was actually Steffan Sommer. There was confusion over the Sommer cousins. One was working with Kammler on secret devices, while the other went on recce missions to find places to hide Hitler’s treasure. Steffan didn’t want to be in the war, but that wasn’t an option then, and anyway he had to do something that looked loyal so he could try to keep his wife safe. His cousin Wilhelm disappeared, probably to an easy life in middle America with a new name and a well-paid job with the military, and Steffan came here. But somehow something leaked about the arrival of a Nazi called Sommer, and that’s how the rumour started about Wilhelm Sommer being recruited for AWRE. My father tried to put a fast end to that by changing Steffan’s name.’
Matt recalled Allan explaining the mystery when he was recording his documentary. The memory of his cousin still filled him with a sombre sadness.
Bomber continued, ‘My family looked after him until he died, a kind of cancer when he wasn’t even forty. He told me near the end how Friedrich Wollner terrorised the prisoners at Terezín.’
‘Was Wollner a guard at the same time that Cami’s father would have been there?’
‘Yes, the camp kommandant, in fact. And when my father came to airlift Steffan to safety, Wollner appeared. There was only one seat on the plane, you see, and Wollner meant to kill Steffan and take it. So they fought. Steffan said his strength was failing, and he was sure he was going to die, when, out of nowhere, this young farm boy appeared and shot Wollner dead. So he wasn’t lying to my father that he hadn’t killed anyone. He got on the plane and took Wollner’s satchel, so there was no evidence left behind.
Matt balked. ‘How come you never told me any of this before?’
‘I didn’t know. The truth is that Uncle Keith…Steffan never really recovered from losing his wife, Rita. I mean, to dump the burden of his secrets like he did…I was just seven years old, for heaven’s sake! The bunker was his private space, and after he died I put that shelf over it and never went down there. It was only after Cami forced the bunker open that I saw that he’d been writing a journal down there about his war experiences. The aeroplane was in Wollner’s satchel and he’d come directly from Terezín. I mean, okay, it’s not certain, but the pieces fit together.’
‘Wow!’
Bomber sighed. ‘A strange old world, hey?’ His fingers tapped the diary and the wad of paper. After a moment, he lifted the paper and opened it out into a map.
Matt gasped. ‘The map Cami was searching for?!’
‘Yes.’
‘But…but―’
‘No buts, Matt. I refused to give it to her all those years ago, just like I promised Steffan. But now things have changed.’
‘Why?’
‘Remember…I said don’t ask me why.’
‘Okay,’ Matt threw up his hands in defeat. ‘But how come we didn’t find it…that night when we were down here searching with Cami? How come she and Glynn didn’t see it?’
Bomber grinned. ’Where’s the one place in a hidden bunker you don’t search?’
‘That loo? It was disgusting.’ Matt pulled a face.
‘Not a bad idea, but no. My father’s predestined life was to run a chain of grocery shops, but what he actually loved was flying and tinkering with stuff. When he got the chance he was a very neat workman, and he made the second step of th
at brick staircase look just like all the others. But if Cami had just paused to try lifting the front of that step she’d have found it was a hinged lid with a lined metal box underneath. That’s where the map was. Not that my father ever knew what was in there. He built the hidden compartment just because Steffan asked him to, but he never wanted to know what it was used for. That was my task, and now it’s yours.’
‘But why now? And why me?’ Matt still frowned.
‘Just accept that today I want you to have this map. You’ve proved to me that you’re an exceptional young man. You went out there and fought for your dream. You dared to fly. You have dared to do more than I expected. Now, I want to dare you with something else.’
A tingle sparkled down Matt’s spine.
Bomber flicked through the diary and opened at a page with its corner turned down. He held the page open so that Matt could see where more pages had been torn out. Then he slipped what were clearly the missing pages out from the folds of the map. ‘Here, Steffan recounts how he entered a top-secret vault where the SS had set up fuses that would trigger deadly electromagnetic waves when someone entered. He doesn’t say where it is or how he got there, but it’s where the strangest thing occurred. He was still in the vault when they turned on the system, and it should have fried him.’
Matt inhaled sharply.
Bomber nodded and continued, ‘Instead, he writes that his wife Rita, who he believed had delayed her ascent to heaven to watch over him as his guardian angel as long as he lived, first showed him the map and then protected him from the radiation. None of the soldiers there could believe what had happened and joked that he must be the devil himself. His cousin, who had invented this death trap, was furious, and shot the young lad whose job it was to activate the system, claiming he must have made a mistake.’
‘Oh, God!’ Matt cried out. ‘This device…could it be the same one that Cami said maimed her father?’
‘Could well be. When she pleaded insanity at her murder trial, she said she had searched through all her father’s notes. She found out that he had overheard Wollner telling someone about a man named Steffan Sommer finding a place at Lake Toplitz to hide Hitler’s greatest treasures, so his life was spent looking for it and he finally succeeded. Of course, the scientists consulted on the case didn’t believe a word of the story about how her father was maimed.’