by M L Maki
“I grew up in the woods of Washington State. I killed my first deer at fifteen.”
“That ain’t killing a man. You want to understand, you pull the trigger and hit the person you’re aiming at, then, when you come back, we can talk.”
“Yes, Sergeant.” Maki picks up the Lee Enfield and its ammo belt and walks out of the college. He looks up at the sun and walks north.
HEADQUARTERS, OCCUPIED RAF OUSTON
1644, 7 October, 1942
Weber sits listening to an after-action report.
“…The Tomcat fighters were everywhere. We closed with two of the Devil’s Cross. They broke away and flew NOE. Two Tomcats were on us before we got closer than three miles. I broke hard right. Hans, in 2 plane, broke left. They hit him and he crashed without a chute. I ran north. On the way, I had to dodge four more Tomcats. These had different rudder markings.”
“Weber, “What did the markings look like?”
“Like a creature running with a round thing.”
“Yes, I’ve reviewed the intelligence we have on the American squadrons who came back in time. You describe the Tomcatter logo. Continue.”
“When the Americans turned south, I did a climbing turn. I still had missiles. I was immediately tangled with a different aircraft. These had a bird and the rudders had black and grey squares.”
“The Redcocks. We now face three fighter squadrons.”
“Yes, sir.”
UXBRIDGE ROAD, EALING, WEST LONDON
1820, 7 October, 1942
General Patton walks in the south door of an old house on the south side of Uxbridge Road. The machine gun and rifle fire are deafening. He walks to the front of the house and hears one of his Sherman’s firing from an alley nearby. The front windows are shattered and a dozen men sit or lay in the room, sweat and dirt streaking their faces. The Sherman discharges again. Then, they hear the shriek of a German 75mm tank round. It hits the house next door, making the house they’re in shake, plaster showering down. Several of the men get up, and run towards the south door.
Patton, “Where the hell are you going?”
“They’re coming!”
“Hell, yeah, they’re coming. And, we’re going to meet them right here!”
“But…but, we always fall back.”
Patton’s face turns scarlet, and he reflexively grabs the handle of his pistol. He conversation with Commodore Hunt pops into his mind. “You’re right. But, no more. We back up no more. We stand. Get on the windows and give them hell!”
ARTHUR 1, 200 FEET, 10 MILES SOUTH OF GERMAN OCCUPIED RAF OUSTON
0624, 8 October, 1942
Too Tall, behind Spike, says, “Climb a bit. Okay, left 15.”
Spike makes the adjustment.
Too Tall, “When I say, pop up two hundred, fire the Harm, then back down and hard left turn.”
Spike, “Got it.”
Too Tall, “Pop!” She pulls up two hundred feet. Too Tall, on radio, gives the call for friendly anti-radar missiles, “Magnum.” Spike fires a HARM anti-radiation missile, then dives and turns left. A minute later, Too Tall, “Come to 350 and pop 200.” Spike repeats the maneuver and fires another HARM. She sees the fire ball from her first target.
They blow one more, then, “Arthur 1, Knight 1, raid warning, designated raid 1. Multiple fast movers out of Ouston. We’ve kicked the hornet’s nest.”
Too Tall, “Knight 1, Arthur 1. Roger.”
Gandhi, “Volley Fox 3. Spike, keep your head down.”
Too Tall, “Wilco.”
To their east and north, they see several explosions. Then, Too Tall, “Come to 030 and pop.” She complies and fires another HARM. They continue for one more, then are out of missiles.
Thud, with Keg in the backseat, takes over.
As they circle, Spike’s radar warning lights up. She breaks and pickles off countermeasures. “Where are they?”
Too Tall, “5 o’clock low. Two of ‘em. Sorry.”
“Grunt,” Spike does a tight turn and meets the lead ‘262 head to head. The German fires his machine gun. The rounds hit their left wing. Spike rolls right, “Grunt.” She pulls into a tight, nine G, minimum turn.
Too Tall, “He’s reversing.”
Major Gunter pulls the stick hard into his belly, begging his plane to turn. He engages afterburners and puts out his airbrake. “I know I hit them. Now, I have to finish them. Have to.”
Spike sees the afterburners and leads the German. When her Sidewinder growls in her ear, she fires. It corkscrews, latching onto the heat from the German’s afterburners.
Major Gunter sees the flash of the missile firing and pickles countermeasures, throttling back his engines. The Sidewinder loses track. He rolls on his burners and lines up for another head to head pass.
Spike sees the Germans burners light and does a tight barrel roll, lining up a gun shot. Her plane is shaking and the master alarm has sounded. She can hear the chatter on the radio; the A-10s are taking out the radar guided and heat seeking missile launchers. They’ve destroyed the radar sites.
She watches the ‘262 turning toward her and lines up, going head to head, and takes the shot. Two fifty round bursts fly right up the air intake on the right engine and it grenades.
Gunter finds himself fighting his aircraft, his right engine gone and his left engine surging. He levels and attempts to climb, exchanging speed for altitude. “Fuck! Fuck!” Looking out, he sees he’s very close to the field. The jet bucks and the left engine shuts down. Alarms are screaming. He points toward darkness and ejects.
ARTHUR 1
0630, 8 October, 1942
Spike climbs. As her jet slows, the shaking subsides a bit. They hear Parker, “The bird is plucked, send for the special sauce.” All the German air defenses have been destroyed. Ridgeway calls, “Hotel minus two.”
Spike slows and circles the field. Fires are burning at the defense positions. Six helicopters are using thermal sights to engage the perimeter with their miniguns. Transports fly below her and streams of paratroopers disgorge from the planes. She sees the sparkle of gun fire below and the streams of tracer fire from the choppers. Doing a gauge sweep, she says, “We’re losing fuel.”
Too Tall, “Twenty minutes most economical to Kenley.”
Spike, “Not enough. We land here.”
“In a gun battle?”
“I’ll keep us in the air as long as I can.” On radio, Spike, “Arthur is hit. We are circling. Can someone let the paratroopers know we’ll be landing soon?”
Gandhi, “Spike, the brother suggests an alternate.”
Spike, “Not enough fuel. It will be here.”
Marshal, “We have you on radar, Spike, and can escort you down.”
Too Tall, “Thank you, Marshal.”
LCDR Douglas, in Valkyrie 1, “Spike, Cargo Britches, we have relayed to the 82nd. They’re expecting you.”
Too Tall, “Thank you, Cargo Britches.” On intercom, “You want to be down there, don’t you?”
“I do. I want to meet the guy we’ve been fighting. I’m pretty sure he’s here.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t head checking.”
“It’s okay. It gives me the excuse for this.”
WEST END OF THE RUNWAY, OCCUPIED RAF OUSTON
0630, 8 October, 1942
Major Gunter winds up his parachute just off the west end of the runway. “Come on, aircraft are coming. Come on.” He can hear the turboprops. Then he sees soldiers landing by parachute all around him. “No way, she shot us all down. No way.”
Jimmy Thatcher shouts in English, “Are you the Commodore? Shit, it’s a Kraut. Hands up! Hands up!” Jimmy pushes the muzzle of his Garand rifle at Gunter, “I’m gonna kill you!”
Gunter hastily raises his hands, and in German, “What is this?” He hears gun fire in the east and sees the anger in the young man’s eyes.
Sergeant Rodriguez lifts Jimmy’s gun barrel, “We don’t kill prisoners.”
“They tried to kill the Li
eutenant.” Several the soldiers run west toward the perimeter. A machine gun opens up and is silences by a dozen rifles.
Johnny Rodriguez holds his rifle on Gunter and calmly motions for his pistol. Gunter slowly, carefully takes it out and hands it over. “Keep your hands where I can see them.” Light finally twinges the eastern sky.
Gunter hears the whine of a jet engine approaching and looks west. In the gloom, the jet slowly materializes, unmistakably an F-14. Gunter watches in amazement as it grows closer. As it flashes by, he sees the stacks of flags on the fuselage, making the pilot’s identity clear. It’s the Drachendame.
Gunter is silent; head down; eyes closed. He turns to his captor, and in German, “Would you take me to her?”
“What? English.”
“Commodore Hunt,” and he points down the runway.
Johnny nods, “Come on, Jimmy. You know I’m going to catch hell for letting you jump.”
“I go. Surrender to her.” Gunter points and raises his hand again.
Sergeant Johnny Rodriquez motions with his rifle and the three walk down the runway.
CHAPTER 30
ARTHUR 1, RAF OUSTON
Spike parks her jet near the tower and shuts it down. Fuel has finally stopped leaking because the tank that was hit was isolated. On radio, “Knight 1, Arthur 1, status?”
Gandhi, “The skies are clear of hostiles. The A-10s are standing by. How are you?”
“We’re safe for the moment. I’m going off line to un-ass the bird.”
“Roger, Spike. So far, there’s no response from France. Keep your survival radio on so we can keep you informed.”
“Will do.” On intercom, “You know, Too Tall, this poor bird has been through it.”
“It has, Spike. Good landing.”
Spike sees soldiers to her west leading a prisoner her way. Then, she sees a German emerge from a building, his hands in the air. She opens the canopy, “Time to get out.”
She hits the tarmac and her legs try to buckle. She forces herself to stand straight, using the plane for support. The two Germans are making a bee line for her. She waits. The gun fire dies down. There’s an occasional shot. The lone German arrives first, “I, to you, surrender this facility. To you.”
She looks him over. His uniform is impeccable. His manner is upright. At his neck is the Blue Max. On his left breast, the Iron Cross. “I accept. Your name, sir?”
“General Ludwig Weber,” and he carefully draws his Luger and hands it, grip first, to Spike.
Spike, speaking slowly, “You tell them all. Put down,” and pantomimes putting the Luger on the ground.
He nods, “It is done.”
Next, she sees Jimmy and Rodriguez escorting a German in a flight suit. “Ma’am, this Kraut wanted to surrender to you.” The firing has completely died out. Rodriguez hands her Gunter’s Luger.
Spike ignores Jimmy. She checks both guns are on safe and sticks them in her jacket pockets. She sees General Ridgeway and a platoon of Paratroopers running toward them.
Gunter, “Ich ubergebe mich dir.” He stops, “I give. Aufgeben. Up to you, Drachendame.”
“You want to surrender to me.”
“Ja.”
She smiles, “Name?”
“Major Heinrich Gunter,” and straightens.
She nods, “I accept your surrender.” She grabs her radio, “All units, Arthur. Ouston is ours. Good job.” Ridgeway arrives, and “These two have surrendered. The base is ours.”
Ridgeway smiles, “Your plan worked. Are you two okay?”
Spike motions at Gunter, “I think he’s the one who got the rounds in our bird, but we’re fine.”
Gunter, “Drachendame, you shoot me. Three times.”
Confused, she says, “But, I only hit you once.”
Gunter continues, frustrated with his halting English, “Once in ‘109 over Cornwall. I limp to France. Next, I get ‘163. Good jet. Fast. Turn good. You shoot me down over North Sea. I fall on destroyer. Last, today, in ‘262. It is less than optimal.”
Spike smiles, then, “You still live. That is optimal.” Turning to General Weber, “Latrine?”
HARROW ROAD, WIMBLEDON, NORTH LONDON
0723, 8 October, 1942
Sergeant Thompson stands at a broken window in an empty store searching for the source of the sporadic firing. His lieutenant peeks around the window next to him and takes a round in the throat. “Corpsman!” He breaks cover and fires his BAR at two Germans skulking in the alley across from his position. “Sniper!” They drop. He sees some of his men moving to a brick wall and lays down cover fire.
His corpsman gets to the lieutenant, checks him out, and looks up, “He’s gone, Sergeant.”
One of his corporals stands to throw out a grenade and gets hit in the throat. The grenade falls to the floor and Thompson scoops it up and throws it out, ducking back to cover. The grenade detonates, throwing shrapnel in the street.
He hears the bang of a rifle being fired from a floor above. Tom looks out and watches a German sniper fall from an open window in a tall building at the end of the street.
“Shit! Okay! We’re clear! Sniper down! Keep shooting! Here they come!” He fires again as six Germans rush their position. The rifle above him fires again, and the lead German’s head snaps back and he goes down. His men open up on the now fleeing Germans, who run back into hiding.
Thompson turns to his corpsman, “Get the lieutenant out of here.” The corpsman drags the bodies in the room out the back door.
Now, they wait.
VALKYRIE 1, SOUTH BOUND OVER OCCUPIED ENGLAND
0723, 8 October, 1942
Spike sits behind and between the pilot’s seats looking out the windscreen of the new SH-60 helicopter. Her helmet is plugged into the crew comms circuit, “Sandra, can you patch me into the radio?”
“Sure, just tell me when to key to the mic.”
“I’ll touch your shoulder.”
“Okay,” she touches Cargo Britch’s shoulder. “All units, Arthur actual, unit commanders report unit strength.”
Swede, “Knight has twelve, four birds in the air.”
Thud, “Rook has twelve, six birds in the air.”
Marshall, “Beefeater has twelve, six in the air.”
Oyster, “Felix has twelve, two in the air.”
Major Parks, “Dog has eight usable, six up.”
LCDR Leonard, “Rusty and Dusty have six usable, all up.”
The other four A-10 units report in at full strength.
Then, “Yankee actual, Yankee, we have two squadrons of Foxtrot 1’s on final.”
Spike smiles, “Acknowledge, Yankee. Refuel them and stand by. Swede, Thud, how do you have twelve?”
“Spike, Swede. Lizard is behind Cochran and you have Too Tall. The new crews are limited.”
“Spike, Thud. I got DeGraaff, and GQ cleared. Still training the new crew.”
Spike feels the beginning of relief, “Roger. Stuffy, Spike.”
Air Marshal Dowding comes on the radio, “Go for Stuffy.”
“Stuffy, Spike, I have a plan…”
BUCKINGHAM PALACE
0824, 8 October, 1942
Churchill is guided to a sitting room. The King stands at a south window looking out. Churchill stops, bows, and approaches, “Your Majesty?”
“Will we hold, Winston?”
“We will. We must.”
“She lost several aircraft yesterday.”
“They’ve already been replaced and several more squadrons have flown in from America.”
“Is it enough?”
An aid opens the door, “Air Chief Marshal Dowding, Your Majesty.”
Dowding steps in, bows, then approaches, “Your Majesty, Mr. Prime Minister.”
“Good morning, Air Marshal.”
Dowding grins, “Your Majesty, Ouston is ours. The Commodore’s plan worked. The 82nd Airborne quickly gained control and the General in charge surrendered.”
“The Commodore?”
<
br /> “A German ace got some rounds into her plane, but she was able to make an emergency landing, at Ouston. She took the surrender. She is quite alright.” Dowding eyes are twinkling, “In fact, Your Majesty, Mr. Prime Minister, if I could draw your attention to the south window?”
The three go to the large window. In the distance a great number of small specks appear out of the high cloud cover and into the sunlight.
ARTHUR 1, 3000 FEET, SOUTH OF LONDON
In her new plane, Spike leads a formation of every air capable unit she commands. In chevron formation behind her are the Black Knights, the White Knights, the Tomcatters, and the Redcocks. Then a break and the six squadrons of Griffin fighters. The third formation is all six squadrons of A-10s lead by the Devil Dogs and Iron Angels. Then, come two squadrons of F-1 War Eagles.
Spike, “Yankee formation, Arthur 1, slow descent to angels 1.”
BUCKINGHAM PALACE
King George is riveted, fighting his emotions, “Dowding, does that mean what I think it means?”
Dowding, his delighted smile lighting up the room, “Your Majesty, it does. We should hear from Rommel within the hour, if not sooner. He knows what that flight means. We own the skies.”
Winston, overcome, gropes for a chair and sits, his head down.
ROMMEL’S HEADQUARTERS UNIT, WEMBLEY, UK
General Erwin Rommel is studying the battle map with his staff when they hear the thunder of jets above them. He and his men look at each other, then rush outside and look up. Rommel sees, at low altitude, an enormous formation of jet fighters, all with US and British insignia. Then, they’re gone to the north. He watches the formation split, half peeling off west and half to the east, and come around.
He looks down, nods his head, then turns and re-enters his headquarters. He motions to his aid, ‘It’s done. They have the skies. Tell our men to lay down arms.”
“But, General, we are so close.”
“Did you not see? They control the air. We’ve lost Ouston and Germany has no more planes to send. We have very little armor. They grow stronger as we weaken. It is over. I will lose no more men. Send the message.”
The aid looks at his commander for a long minute, “Yes, sir.”
ARTHUR 1
Spike, “East flight, circle back and form up on west flight.” She leads her command from west to east over London. She sees white flags held by German soldiers in the streets of the outlying suburbs and hamlets. As they clear London and make the turn to fly back over Rommel’s position, she hears, “Arthur 1, Yankee, we have word from Eisenhower. Rommel has surrendered.”