by M L Maki
“Dog flight, Cuddles. Tell Yankee actual I know her jeep was dark blue and she beat me three of four in training.”
“Roger, Cuddles.” A moment later, as Cuddles watches, more defenders get cut down, he hears, “Cuddles, Dog 3, standing by for tasking.”
“We have three tanks on the tarmac at RAF Ouston in contact with British troops.”
WAR ROOM, SOMEWHERE UNDER LONDON
0542, 24 September, 1942
Churchill slumps in his chair at a table with Air Marshal Dowding, Field Marshal Brooke, and General Eisenhower watching the staff update a huge map. Aids come and go handing notes and taking replies. “Tell me, Air Chief Marshal, how many jets does she have left?”
Dowding, “Three, Prime Minister. Two others may be repaired. We also have 16 flyable Griffins and several under repair.”
Churchill nods, “Do we have an estimate of the German strength?”
Dowding, “Only a rough estimate. They have at least sixty of the delta fighters, the ME-262. They have possibly forty of the ME-163. They’ve just brought a new fighter in and I’m told it’s quite good, but the numbers must be small, perhaps ten or twenty. Overall, they have approximately one hundred jets.”
Churchill, “Eisenhower, tell me you’re building replacement F-14’s.”
“We are, Prime Minister, as fast as possible. But they must be tested before they can be brought over.”
An aid reports, “Alconbury is requesting to be updated on the forward edge of battle.”
Brooke, “Why?”
Eisenhower, “We have ground attack planes now, and we’re trying to avoid fratricide.”
Brooke shakes his head, “Minister, I would rather hold that tight.”
Churchill frowns, “No. Give it to them. Give them whatever they need.” He turns to Brooke, “You don’t handicap your only hope.”
“Sir, in truth, we aren’t sure where the line is.”
“I know that. Give them what we can.”
Eisenhower, “Our paratroopers are heavily engaged and encircled. Their major is asking to fall back.”
Churchill, “Of course, but where will they go?”
“They have a plan to head south.”
Brooke, “But, that will pin them against the river.”
Eisenhower, “They major said he has a way across.”
Churchill, “Granted and God speed.”
Brooke, “The 27th Armored Brigade is rolling north. We need to choose their first defensive position.”
Churchill, “What do you think?”
Brooke, The Tee river, sir. We blow the bridges and make a stand there.”
Dowding, “If we blow the bridges, we trap those people fleeing south from the Germans.”
Brooke looks at Eisenhower, then back to Churchill, “We must. If we don’t, we may lose the island entire.”
Churchill, “Blow them.”
BERGHOF, OBERSALBERG, NEAR BERCHTSGADEN, GERMANY
0700, 24 September, 1942
Hitler walks into the conference room and his officers stand, “Heil Hitler.”
Hermann Goering, “Mein Fuhrer, the British are on the ropes. As promised, the 4th Corps has landed nearly intact. We have, with the navy’s indispensable help, sunk most of the British fleet. Those units still surviving are limping north to lick their wounds. The North Sea is ours and the skies over Britain, though still contested, are ours as well.”
“Yes. Admiral Raeder, how do you assess our position?”
Admiral Erich Raeder, commander of the Kreigsmarine, replies, “I cautiously agree. We have an opening and we should exploit it. I have no doubt the Americans and British are, as we speak, gathering every asset available to wrest control of the North Sea. Should the jet carrier make an appearance, that would be a complication.”
Hitler, “That carrier has been seen in Australia. Even if it set out now, it would be too late to make a difference in what we do.”
“Yes, mein Fuhrer.”
“How many aircraft does she have?”
Goering, “Four at most. Likely less. She has been sending up aircraft without cover from a wingman. It indicates they have very few and need every plane.”
“Good. Oberkommando Keitel, can Rommel take London?”
On paper, the man that commanded all the German armed forces, Oberkommando der Whermacht Wilhelm Keitel, Hitler’s military chief of staff, replies, “He can, mein Fuhrer. He can and he must. When London falls, resistance in Britain will end.”
Hitler, “London will fall. The King will come and bow before me, or lose his head. Our U-boats must prevent resupply or any escape form the island. This is critical.”
Raeder, “Yes, mein Fuhrer.”
“While the British fleet rests in harbor, sink them at their anchors. Destroy the dock yards and landing piers. Those merchant ships that escape our U-boats will have no place to land. And we will resupply at will. Their defense will grind to a halt and we will be victorious.”
ARTHUR 1, 35,000 FEET OVER DOVER
0822, 24 September, 1942
The sun is well above the horizon at this altitude, it’s brutally bright in Spike’s face as they race to intercept a German flight approaching the channel, “Lizard, illuminate.” She’s happy to be back in her jet.
“Alright, Boss. We have ten bandits at 120 miles. They’re at 30K and 500 knots.”
“Remind Hot Pants to stay north. Make sure you have them good, then I’ll ripple fire the lot.” They’re flying with the ‘John Wayne’ loadout; six AIM-1, Long Bow, long range missiles, and two AIM-9, Sidewinders.
“Roger, Boss, Steer 55.”
“55.”
On radio, Lizard, “Percival, Arthur, the boss wants you on our toes up there.”
“Roger Arthur 1, standing by.”
“You sleep well, Boss?”
“We’re about to kill people, Lizard. No chit-chat.”
“Roger, Boss. Okay, I’m ready.”
“Volley Fox 3.” She pushes and holds the fire trigger and all six missiles drop and light up.
HAUPTMANN (CAPTAIN) HEINRICH GUNTER’S ME-262B, 30,000 FEET, NORTHERN FRANCE
Gunter has only forty-five minutes of flying time in the new ‘262 and he already loves it. It’s not as agile as the ‘163 he flew before, but it’s blindingly fast. With his new promotion, he’s leading his squadron on a bombing raid on Portsmouth. It matters not that he is a distraction to open an attack on the American air attack jets. He’s in charge and he has a mission.
The first indication of a problem is the white exhaust from missiles eighty miles ahead of him. “Red flight, Red 1, incoming missiles.”
The incoming missiles are fast, making the timing of his evasive action critical. He watches intently, then yanks back his stick, pickling the chaff dispensers. The missile passes beneath him and fails to detonate, but five of his aircraft are hit. “Half. Fuck. Fucking half of my force. Time to kill this son of a bitch!” On radio, “Drop ordinance and attack.”
ARTHUR 1
Lizard, “They’re ‘262’s. They’re dropping ordinance.”
“Okay, Lizard, let’s play with our food.”
“Boss?”
“I want them to go to afterburner and try to fight. Run them out of fuel and they can’t kill anyone.”
“Roger, Boss. 25 miles.”
Then, “Raid warning north. Designate Raid 8. Ten fast movers over the North Sea.”
“Boss?”
“Hot Pants knows what to do. Lock them up on radar.”
“Boss, we’re out of long-range missiles.”
“They don’t know that. Lock them up.”
“Roger, we have five closing.”
“Call Fox 1 in the clear.”
Lizard, “Fox 1, fox 1.” The Germans take evasive action, engaging their afterburners. “They’re scrambling!”
They hear GQ on radio, “Volley Fox 3.”
HAUPTMANN GUNTER’S ME-262B, 28,000 FEET OVER THE CHANNEL
Gunter violent
ly barrel rolls his ‘262B looking for an exhaust plume. “No incoming. Close and engage.” He pulls into a climb and inverts to keep an eye on the American. His flight is scattered, with no semblance of a formation.
ARTHUR 1
Spike has the altitude advantage. She sees a lone jet climbing as the others scatter. She picks a ‘262 to her left and dives in, engaging afterburner. Her prey rolls right and she cuts the corner, closing rapidly. Lizard, “The climbing bird is rolling over the top.”
“Where?”
“Four high, five miles.”
“Okay,” She hears the growl of the lock on the bird in front of her and pickles off a Sidewinder. It zigs twice and explodes right below the jet’s engines causing it to pitch forward and dive. They see pieces fall off the bird as the pilot desperately tries to bring it back level, then an engine explodes and it turns and rolls inverted, diving for the sea. She turns off her burners.
Lizard, “Six high. Rolling over the top.”
“Grunt.” She pulls hard, climbing to meet the jet. As she does, another ‘262B crosses in front of her. She applies rudder and dissimilar thrust and fires a burst from her gun. The crossing plane catches on fire and rolls on its back.
Adjusting rudder and thrust, she closes the diving ‘262B. The German fires a missile, forcing her to break off and drop chaff and flares. Lizard, “He’s pulling out below us.” She rolls over and sees the jet 100 feet under, flying parallel.
The German hand salutes and she returns it, then snap rolls and pulls, “Grunt.” As she completes the Immelman, she sees the German bugging out south.
HAUPTMANN GUNTER
Gunter is racing south as he continues to descend. On radio, “Form on me. Form on me. It’s the Drachendame. Only she flies like that.”
Lieutenant Jochim Vogel, “Are you certain it was the Dragon Lady?”
“I have fought her twice. I saw her close. It is she.”
RAF ALCONBURY
Spike flares her bird to land. Lizard, “Ten, five.” The main gear chirps and the nose comes down. As they taxi, “Six kills in one sortie, Boss. Is this a record for you?”
“God damn it, Lizard. I don’t talk about the kills.”
“Not even with your RIO?”
“No.”
“Can I ask why?”
“Because I’m a fucking mass murderer. I’m good at it, but I fucking hate it, every time. I’m sure as fuck not going to brag about it just to make some ignorant fuck think it’s cool.” The cockpit is silent as she taxis to refuel and rearm.
“I’m sorry, Spike. I didn’t know.”
“I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I need to be better than that.”
“You are, Spike. Everybody loves you. It’s okay that you, umm…loose it once in a while. Everyone needs an outlet.”
“Did you and Papa talk a lot in the cockpit?”
“Sure. We talked about all kinds of stuff.”
“Did he talk about me?”
“Boss, I will never, ever, reveal what you and I discuss in this cockpit. I will never reveal what he said, either.”
“Okay, then. I loved him as a friend, Shawn.”
“I did, too.”
She opens the cockpit as the ground crew begin refueling the bird. “I need to pee.”
“Got it, Boss.”
CHAPTER 6
SOUTH OF THE POW CAMP, CATTERICK, UK
1127, 24 September, 1942
Trooper David Preacher stands in the loaders hatch of his Covenanter tank. They are parked on the left side of the road, clearing the way for the vehicles streaming south. Behind the last civilian vehicle there’s a line of military trucks filled with German POWs. A driver waves at him and he waves back, “Lucky sod, all the Germans you face are unarmed.”
Then, he sees a German in Kriegsmarine uniform jump out of a truck and run into the field right in front of him. The driver of the next truck stops and jumps out with his rifle, shouting, “Shoot him!”
Preacher unlimbers his BESA machine gun and sites on the fleeing man. Just like in training, he sights over the barrel and squeezes the trigger. The gun jumps and the bullets find their target. The Germans arms fly out, as the rounds hit in the center of his back, and he falls.
Soldiers run from the trucks and pick up the dead POW. Sergeant West comes up out of his hatch, “What the fuck are you doing, Preacher?”
Preacher, bile rising, “I killed a German” He leans over the turret and vomits.
4TH PLATOON, EASY COMPANY, 2ND OF THE 509TH, NORTH BANK OF THE RIVER TYNE, NEWCASTLE, UK
1913, 24 September, 1942
Johnny Rodriguez lays in the shadows, searching north for any movement, his machine gun ready. There are Germans all over the place and tanks rolling over the bridge above him. He struggles to control his breathing. “Deep, slow breath. Remember, deep, slow breath.” The cartridges in the ammo belt are rattling and he realizes it’s him and takes his hand off the belt. The Germans are only twenty yards away. Taking deep breathes, he closes his eyes and calms his mind. Slowly, his shaking subsides and he puts his hand back on the action.
He feels a tap on his foot and gradually, slowly moves back. His sergeant guides him onto a metal support rib under the bridge, and they carefully make their way across. Their movement covered by the vibration caused by the tanks above them.
25,000 FEET, EAST OF LONG ISLAND, NY
1409, 24 September, 1942 (1909 GMT)
VADM Richard ‘Dixie’ Lee is at the controls of a F-14B loaded with test missiles and bombs. Flying to his right in the F-14B chase plane is Einstein. “Butch, are we ready?”
CDR Ronald ‘Butch’ Cassidy says, “Yes, sir. There are no radar contacts remotely in range. The radar is on and set to straight ahead.”
Lee replies, “Okay, call it.”
Butch, “Ready to start test one.”
Einstein, “Roger. In position. Camera is rolling.”
The control center at the Grumman factory says, “Range is clear. We are green.”
Lee, “Roger. Fox 1,” and fires and AIM-1 Long Bow. The missile drops and fires, shooting ahead of the ’14. The missile sways a bit, then settles on the beam, continuing until the rocket motor runs out of fuel and it tumbles into the sea.
Lee, “Great. Perfect. Perfect. On to test two.”
200 FEET, DURHAM, UK
1918, 24 September, 1942
LT Albert ‘Shit Howdy’ Henderson, USMC, puts his Warthog into a steep bank, turning onto a formation of the smaller German tanks racing for Durham. He hit the lead tank on his last run. Now, the darkening evening light is making it harder to see. They’ve pushed the burning tank out of the way and several of the tracks have rolled into a field in an attempt to bypass. The one using the stone fence to avoid getting stuck is his next target.
Then he sees the Germans pulling canvas off a half-track exposing a missile carrier. Fortunately, it’s pointed in the wrong direction. “All units, Shit Howdy, they got missiles.”
Captain ‘Buck’ Hall, “Avoid the missiles.”
Shit Howdy fires at his target, lighting it up, then turns pulling out to go around. He sees a missile fire and turns, attempting to race away. “Sam launch. Evading.”
Shit Howdy feels a kick in the ass and his warning alarm sounds, fire in the left engine. “Shit Howdy is hit. Shit Howdy is hit. Still flying. Just west of Durham.” He rolls back to target the missile launcher.
Buck, “Bug out, Howdy. RTB.”
“I’m gonna kill the mother fucker.”
“Howdy, Buck, RTB.”
Howdy pulls up just above the trees and sees another missile launch and track him. “SAM launch. SAM launch. Howdy evading. Chaff and flares,” and pickles countermeasures. The missile is spoofed, but then, as it flies by, it picks up the heat of the hot engine and regains track. The second missile detonates behind the right engine.
“Howdy is hit. Howdy is hit. Double flame out at 300 feet.”
“Punch out Howdy.”
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“Stretching south.”
“You don’t have the altitude to fuck around, damn it. Punch out!”
Howdy pats the dash of his A-10, “Sorry, baby. You’ve been good to me.” He pulls the ejection handle and soars into the air, passing out.
VALKYRIE 1, 2000 FEET, OVER LEEDS
On radio, LCDR Sandra ‘Cargo Britches’ Douglas, “Dog units, Valkyrie 1 inbound for dust off. Where did you lose your bird?”
“Valkyrie 1, Dog 1. He went down west of Durham. There are Germans about a mile north. Be advised, the Germans have SAMs.”
“Understood, Buck. Can you circle and cover him?”
“Affirmative. We are doing so.”
FIELD NEAR BRANCEPETH, WEST OF DURHAM, UK
Howdy comes to just before he hits the ground. He has no time to brace and he feels stabbing pain in his left ankle and leg as he hits. He rolls onto his back, shakes off the rain on his face and gets onto his hands and knees. He gathers his chute, “Howdy, remind yourself to never, ever to do that again.”
He sees his flaming wreck of an A-10 about 300 feet away, “Well, I suppose this is the better option.”
To the north he hears the brrrt of an A-10 and smiles, “They’re covering me. Give ‘em hell, boys.” He finishes pulling in his chute and gathers it into a messy bundle.
RAF ALCONBURY
Spike settles into the cockpit as the crew finishes winching up the last missiles into place. AE3 Washington climbs up and helps strap her in, “Spike, you got two AIM-7’s, four AIM-1’s, 2 AIM-9’s, and your fuel and gun are topped off.”
Spike smiles, “Thanks, Handy.” He kisses his two fingers and touches the crown of her helmet.
Then Swede climbs up, “Thud is over Durham covering the A-10s. The Germans brought SAMs. We just lost another A-10. I’m asking Wizard to do his dance. I would like you to pair with Thud rather than work alone.”
“Roger, Swede. Tell the A-10s to fly NOE to limit the target window for the SAMs. Do the A-10s have counter measures?”
“I’ll find out.”
“How goes the move?”
“We’re getting there. It’ll be a day or two before we’re completely moved.”
Spike, “Not fast enough. Focus on people first. Then the equipment we can’t do without, then everything else. And Swede, the civilian workers, their families, and the guy’s girlfriends are our people.”