A Mother's Love

by Katie Flynn

  Gwen, who was engrossed in her magazine, gave a half-hearted ‘Mmm hmm’ of agreement.

  Lying back in her bed, Ellie’s thoughts turned to the conversation she had had with Arla earlier that morning. She had known that there was a chance her friend might be posted overseas but she had hoped it would come to nothing, and as Arla revealed the news her heart had sunk.

  ‘Do you have to go?’ she had said, trying to keep her tone even.

  ‘There’s no way I’m letting Archie go over there without me! I’ve heard stories about them French women, and they ain’t gettin’ their hands on my bit of Scouse!’ Arla had said defensively.

  Ellie could not help but giggle. It was typical of Arla to be more worried about some French floozy stealing Archie than she was about confronting the enemy. Closing her eyes, she listened to the rain drumming on the roof.

  Heading towards the Lancaster Lass for what was to be their biggest sortie to date, the crew’s spirits were high.

  ‘Jerry’s in for a nasty surprise and not before time!’ said Geoff as they began to climb the ladder into the fuselage of the plane. ‘I’ve never seen it so busy. I hope they’ve got plenty of bacon ready for when we get back; it’s going to take more than one pig to feed this lot.’

  Standing on the Alsan toilet, Connor swivelled round to face the rear of the plane. ‘I think we’re all with you on that one. Just be grateful we’re not in Africa. They try their best but no one makes a bacon butty like the Brits!’

  Going through the pre-flight checks, Aidan peered out into the bleak night sky. His heart raced with the anticipation of the operation that lay ahead of them. He knew the role the Lancaster Lass was to play would be crucial to its success, and the responsibility was starting to weigh heavily on his shoulders. He tried to shake the ifs and buts from his mind. Positive thinking was required in circumstances like these. He smiled as he heard the engine choke then splutter before roaring into life. Nothing could go wrong. They knew their instructions inside out, and had done this particular route many times in the past. It’s just another day in the office, no different from any other sortie, except you’ll have more company on this one. A lot more company, he assured himself. As he waited for clearance to take off, he listened to the general chitchat from the rest of his crew as they discussed their plans for the following day.

  Taff, the Lancaster Lass’s bomb aimer, talked excitedly about his decision to ask his girlfriend of three months to be his wife. ‘That bloody Yank what’s the AG on Old Harry’s been sniffin’ round her, the cheeky beggar, offerin’ her choccies and stockings. Well, he can jolly well sling his hook.’

  ‘You don’t think she’s interested, do you?’ came a voice from the rear of the fuselage.

  Taff shrugged. ‘I bloomin’ well hope not. What the hell am I meant to do with this ring otherwise?’

  ‘If I were her I’d pick chocolates and stockings over you any day of the week,’ Aidan laughed, before stopping short. Holding up a hand, he nodded, then addressed his crew. ‘Buckle up, boys, we’re off.’

  Ellie awoke to the excited chatter of the girls in her section.

  ‘It’s on the news,’ Sandra told Gwen. ‘They reckon the bluff worked – whatever it was – and they’ve taken Jerry by surprise.’

  Glancing at her watch, Ellie swung her legs out of bed. ‘Why didn’t someone wake me? Have I missed brekker?’

  A pair of stockinged feet appeared over the side of the bunk, closely followed by the rest of Gwen. ‘Firstly, we didn’t wake you because you got in so late; secondly, even if you have missed brekker, there’s always toast.’

  Ellie hastily threw her greatcoat over her shoulders. ‘Have you heard anything from the boys?’

  Gwen shook her head. ‘From what we know the bombers are back and forth, so they could be anywhere. The only thing we’ve been told is that everything’s going to plan so far.’

  The Lancaster Lass had completed her part of the operation and her crew were in high spirits as they headed for home.

  ‘I never seen a sight like that in all my time in the RAF,’ said Geoff. ‘How many of us were there, d’you think? It wouldn’t surprise me if it was in the thousands.’

  Aidan nodded his agreement. ‘We’ve certainly given Jerry something to think about. Remember we were told that if this sortie was a success it could be the turning point in the war, and after what we’ve seen today I reckon they were right.’

  Connor joined in the conversation. ‘Where’s their defence? Serve ’em bloody right, if you ask me. With a bit of luck I can’t see the war goin’ on for much longer. What do you think, Aidan?’

  ‘It’s still early days. I reckon we’ll know a lot more this time tomorrow, but if I were to make a guess, then I’d agree with you. After today Jerry’s days are numbered.’

  Geoff scanned the skies around them. ‘I wonder where all their fighter pilots are? You’d think they’d have at least tried to stop us.’

  Connor grimaced. ‘That’s why we caught ’em by surprise, so’s they wouldn’t get a chance to scramble. After all the damage their bombers’ve done us, it’s about time they got a taste of their own medicine.’

  Aidan glanced at his watch. ‘Shouldn’t be too long now, boys, and we’ll be back home. It’s plain sailing from here on in.’

  Leaning back in his seat, Connor made himself comfortable. ‘I hope we’re one of the first to get back – that way there’ll still be plenty of bacon left.’

  ‘It’s like Piccadilly Circus out there. I’ve never seen owt like it—’

  ‘Shhh!’ came the collective response from the crowd gathered around the wireless in the NAAFI.

  Gwen beckoned Ellie to join her. ‘Just gettin’ the latest updates.’

  Nodding, Ellie clutched Gwen as they listened to the news. The whole of the NAAFI had fallen silent as they listened to the broadcaster. When he finished, a huge cheer went up.

  ‘It’s the same everywhere you go,’ breathed Ellie. ‘Everyone’s talking about it. They reckon the end’s in sight; it really does look as if we’re going to win and we’ve got our boys in bomber command to thank for a lot of it.’ She was grinning from ear to ear. ‘I’ve always been proud of Aidan and Connor but now everyone’s going to see them for the heroes they are.’

  ‘I don’t suppose you’ve heard anything from them?’ Gwen said, raising a hopeful eyebrow.

  Ellie shook her head. ‘No, and I don’t expect to, not until tomorrow, if not the day after. I expect they’ll be straight to their beds as soon as they’re back from their sortie, so’s they can be fresh for the next lot.’ She smiled reassuringly at Gwen. ‘Knowing that they’re up there with lots of other bombers makes me feel a little better. It’s different when there’s just a few of them, and by all accounts they’ve really caught Jerry on the hop, so I think the odds of anything happening to them must be much less than normal, don’t you think?’

  Gwen mulled this thought over for a moment or two before answering. ‘I think you’re right, but the pessimistic part of me thinks of Sod’s Law! I can’t help it, I’m quite cynical when it comes to stuff like that.’

  ‘Good job one of us has got some faith, then!’

  ‘It’s all right for you. That woman said your hubby was going to be fine, but she didn’t say his brother, the one I’m supposed to end up with, is going to survive the “grave danger” she talked about. Just my luck, that is.’

  ‘But Connor’s not your boyfriend, is he?’

  Frowning, Gwen shook her head. ‘Course not, but if it comes to that he’s not Aidan’s brother either.’

  ‘But you could see how she’d get the two …’ She eyed Gwen accusingly. ‘Hold on a mo, I thought you said you didn’t believe in all that tosh? Changed your mind, have you?’

  Gwen shook her head. ‘No, it’s just … oh, I dunno, I’ve got a really bad feeling. But never mind that. What were you starting to say?’

  ‘I was saying that you could see how she’d get the two confused. They do
look awfully alike – even Evie thought they were the same person. Heck, she even dated the wrong man.’ Ellie laughed. ‘So if she couldn’t tell them apart and her prediction about Aidan is right, then Connor must be safe too, because he’s neither Aidan’s brother nor your boyfriend. Well, not yet at any rate.’

  Gwen turned the idea over in her mind. ‘By Jove, I think you’re on to something there. She can’t have it both ways.’

  ‘That’s the spirit!’ said Ellie. ‘So it’s not all doom and gloom; far from it, in fact. And now that we’ve got that sorted, how about going out for a fish supper to celebrate the good news about the war and the boys?’

  Gwen stood up and rubbed her tummy. ‘Sounds good to me. I don’t know about you, but all that thinking’s made me hungry. I’m famished!’

  Breathing heavily, Aidan shouted above the sound of gunfire. ‘Where the bloody hell did he come from? Is he on his own?’

  The lone Messerschmitt had come as a complete surprise. Believing they were home free, the crew of the Lancaster Lass had been flabbergasted when the German fighter loomed into view.

  Aidan twisted round in his seat, desperate to see their attacker. ‘Where’s he gone? Can anyone see him?’

  He was answered by the sound of bullets being fired by Geoff, the mid-turret gunner. ‘Port side, port side … damn, I’ve lost him. It’s all this thick cloud.’

  Connor’s voice came over the radio. ‘Is he on his own?’

  Geoff shrugged. ‘Dunno. I’ve not seen any more, but—’

  He was interrupted by the sound of gunfire coming from Connor’s turret. ‘Bloody hell, he nearly hit us. He must think he’s one of them kamikaze pilots—’ The radio went silent as Connor’s guns sent out another torrent of bullets. ‘He’s not goin’ to give up. We’re goin’ to have to down him before—’

  Confusion followed in the next few seconds as Geoff, Taff, Connor and Aidan all tried to relay as much information to each other as they could.

  After the frantic warnings, an eerie silence fell on the Lancaster Lass. The German plane appeared to have vanished. Each man held his breath as he scanned the sky, desperate for a glimpse of the aircraft. After a minute or two, Aidan began to relax a little, figuring that the other plane had either lost them or run low on fuel and turned back.

  Connor broke the silence. ‘He’s gone. I reckon he must’ve been returning from a mission when he saw us and thought he’d have a bash.’ He whistled under his breath. ‘Just as well, ’cos he was a determined little blighter, wasn’t he?’

  Aidan, who had deliberately taken the Lancaster Lass into a bank of cloud in the hope of losing the Messerschmitt, smiled at the success of his ruse.

  Connor stared into the thick blanket of black cloud. He peered harder. The cloud looked as though it was swirling, almost as if a storm was brewing. He had opened his mouth to warn his cousin when he saw the propellers of the enemy plane breaking through the cloud, and before he could speak it had opened fire again. His finger on the trigger, Connor shouted a warning into his radio. ‘Bloody hell. He’s back, and he’s heading straight for us. Aidan, I think he’s going to hit us …’

  Aidan plunged the plane into a steep dive as he tried in vain to lose the German fighter, but it was no use. The Lancaster Lass was too big to outmanoeuvre the smaller plane. He shouted out to Geoff. ‘Can you see what’s going on? Have you got him in your sights?’

  Geoff’s voice was frantic. ‘I can just about see him, but he’s not in my range; it looks as if he’s trying to take Connor out first.’

  Aidan shouted over the radio. ‘Connor, what’s going on? Tell me what I can do to help.’

  For a brief moment no one could hear anything other than the melee of firing bullets, then from out of the darkness there came nothing but silence, broken only by a whoop of joy from Geoff. ‘Got him! He bloody got the bastard! Well done, Connor, but try not to leave it till the last minute next time, there’s a good fellow. I don’t need that kind of excitement at my age.’

  Aidan jubilantly punched the air. ‘The Murray boys strike again! Well done, Connor! What happened to the Messerschmitt?’

  ‘Connor must’ve hit a fuel line or summat, ’cos it exploded then spiralled towards the sea.’

  A cheer echoed through the Lancaster Lass. ‘Always said you had our backs, didn’t you, but I have to agree with Geoff: try not to leave it so long next time.’ Aidan tapped the side of his earpiece. ‘Did you hear me, coz?’ The airwaves remained silent. Aidan turned to the wireless operator. ‘Go and take a gander, Ginge. We must’ve lost radio contact, but best to make sure.’

  Ginge pulled back the wooden doors that led to the rear gunner’s turret. Shuffling down the small space, he peered through the small glass window of the blast doors. Connor was slumped forward, his arms crossed over the top of his guns. Ginge banged on the blast door to get his attention, but Connor failed to respond, and looking towards the dome Ginge could see that the Perspex was peppered with bullet holes. His heart sinking, he yelled back to Aidan, ‘Skip, he’s been hit, I don’t know how badly. I can’t open the blast doors. How far away are we from Waddington?’

  Aidan looked at his fuel gauge and swallowed hard. ‘Too far, and not just for Connor, either. We’re losing fuel fast; the bastard must’ve hit a line. Get back here and find the nearest base that can take a heavy bomber. When you do, radio and tell them we want permission for an emergency landing.’

  Aidan’s world played out in slow motion as he listened to Ginge relaying the information. ‘They said to go to Biggin Hill. It’s the nearest one to us with a hospital.’

  Nodding, Aidan set his course. Then, swallowing hard, he asked the question uppermost in his thoughts. ‘Is he breathing?’

  There was a brief pause. ‘I don’t know. The doors are stuck fast, but when I called out he never moved.’

  The day had been hectic, to say the least, and up in the control tower of RAF Biggin Hill things were about to get a whole lot worse. Sally Winthorpe had taken a telephone call from RAF Waddington warning them to get ready for what could be an emergency landing by a Lancaster bomber. Listening to the pilot of the stricken aircraft describing what had happened, Sally’s heart sank.

  ‘I recognise that voice. Is that you, Aidan Murray?’

  There was a moment’s pause. ‘Yes. Who’s that?’

  ‘Sally Winthorpe. We met at my sister’s wedding. Arla Winthorpe, or should I say Byrnes?’

  Aidan spoke urgently. ‘Sal! Of all the luck! Do you know which billet Ellie and Gwen are in?’

  ‘Yes, but what on earth has that got to do with things?’ There was no reply. ‘Aidan?’

  ‘We’re losing a lot of fuel because we think he hit one of the lines. I should have enough to reach you, but touching down could be a bit iffy, which is why they told you to make preparations for an emergency landing.’

  ‘But you are going to be okay, aren’t you? I mean, if it’s just a question of fuel …’

  ‘We don’t know if there’s any other damage, but even if there isn’t, landing a heavy bomber with not enough fuel to reverse the engines could lead to a crash landing, and that’s why I want you to get Ellie and Gwen.’ There was a brief pause before he added, ‘It may be the last time I get to speak to her.’

  Desperately scribbling the address of Ellie’s billet on to a piece of paper, Sally handed it to another Waaf and pointed meaningfully towards the door. As the Waaf ran off, the paper clutched in her hand, Sally spoke to Aidan. ‘I’ve sent someone to get her. Waddington said your rear gunner had been hit. That’s our Connor, isn’t it?’

  Another pause. ‘Yes. We can’t tell how badly; the blast doors are jammed.’

  Sally wanted to cry, to pretend that none of this was happening, but she couldn’t, because they needed her help. The countless hours of training for situations just like this came to her aid. ‘Are the rest of the crew all right?’

  ‘Yes, although I don’t fancy our chances much if we have to land without enough f
uel to brake properly.’

  The door opened behind her, and a Waaf appeared in its aperture. She nodded meaningfully at Sally before disappearing back outside.

  Pulling her jacket straight and clearing her throat, Sally spoke in clipped tones. ‘PA473, we have the all-clear for landing.’

  ‘Roger that,’ said Aidan.

  Sally’s face remained impassive as she raised a forefinger to her eye and caught the tear before it fell. ‘Good luck, and Aidan …?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘I’ll let you know as soon as Ellie gets here.’

  Ellie woke up with a start. Gwen was shaking her by the shoulder and looking earnestly into her face. ‘Wake up, Ellie, it’s important! Oh, you’re awake.’

  Sitting up on one elbow Ellie looked blearily around the dark billet. A woman whom Ellie had never seen before was standing by the doorway to the small cottage.

  Ellie yawned. ‘Who’s she?’

  ‘Get dressed, Ellie. We’ve got to get to Biggin Hill.’ Gwen turned to the woman by the door. ‘We’ll be right with you.’

  Handing Ellie her clothes, Gwen explained that the woman was a driver from RAF Biggin Hill who’d been sent to fetch Ellie and Gwen because the Lancaster Lass had been damaged in battle. ‘I don’t know exactly how bad things are, but Aidan asked that you be sent for.’

  Pulling the sleeve of her jacket over her arm, Ellie looked beseechingly at Gwen. ‘They are going to be all right, though?’

  Gwen avoided Ellie’s gaze. ‘I’m sure they will, cariad. Aidan’s one of the best pilots in the RAF.’

  Running out to the car, the girls climbed in. Ellie stared at Gwen. ‘There’s summat you’re not telling me. What is it? And don’t you even think about fibbing, Gwen Jones.’

  Turning away to hide her tears, Gwen spoke quietly. ‘It’s Connor. He’s been hit, but they won’t know how badly until they land. They can’t get to him because the blast door’s stuck.’

  Ellie slipped her hand into Gwen’s. ‘He’ll be fine. He’s probably …’ Unable to say another word, she fought to stop the tears from forming.