A Flight of Golden Wings

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A Flight of Golden Wings Page 5

by Beryl Matthews


  ‘Lucy!’ Bet almost growled. ‘Not you as well! Anyway, they won’t let women fly in wartime.’

  Jack pursed his lips as he surveyed his sister’s animated expression. ‘There are women in the ATA. In fact, there are women doing all kinds of jobs over there. They are drawing on every resource they have, but they are only asking for men from overseas, at the moment.’

  ‘How did you hear about this?’ Lucy was disappointed to discover that only men were being recruited, but things might change later. She must keep a close eye on this organisation. ‘And why didn’t you tell us?’

  ‘Some of the pilots were talking about it at the last show. A couple are already in Montreal and should be leaving for England any time now.’ He paused. ‘And I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d want to do this as well … and you’re not going, even if they do start to take American women.’

  Lucy bristled. ‘Hey, when did you decide to tell me what I can or can’t do?’

  ‘Stop it, you two!’ Bet hollered. ‘You’re working up to a fight.’

  Brother and sister glared at each other, and then grimaced. They adored each other, but boy, could they erupt at times, both having strong personalities. Their arguments were legendary.

  ‘That’s better. Now let’s get one thing straight. When your pa died fifteen years ago I was left to bring you up on my own. And I don’t think I’ve done a bad job.’ Bet looked smug.

  ‘You’re a great mom.’ Lucy went to her mother and gave her a hug. ‘We’ve been a lot to handle, haven’t we?’

  ‘I can’t argue with that, but I’m not complaining, and I’ve never tried to stop you doing what you wanted. Have I ever objected that the two of you spend your time tossing about in the air?’

  Jack and Lucy shook their heads.

  Bet grunted in satisfaction at their response. ‘Well, I don’t like that any more than I like the idea of Jack jumping into the middle of a war – someone else’s war,’ she added pointedly. ‘But you’re grown now and must make your own decisions, but I’m relieved that Lucy can’t go as well – because I know she would.’

  The disappointment showed on Lucy’s face as she sat down again. Mom was right; she would be right on Jack’s tail if at all possible.

  ‘Now, don’t look like that, my girl. You’ve followed your brother around since you could crawl, but you’ve got to let him go, just as I’ve got to do the same, damned fool that he is.’

  ‘I know, Mom, but I’ll go if I can.’

  ‘I don’t doubt it.’ Bet glared at them, trying to hide her worry.

  Jack gave his sister an understanding smile. ‘I can see you’re determined so I’ll see what the situation is when I get there and I’ll let you know if they start taking women from here.’

  ‘Promise?’ Lucy swallowed her concern. Again Mom was right: she had been her brother’s shadow for as long as she could remember, and it hurt to realise that he was going overseas without her. She had never been separated from him, and it would be hard to take.

  ‘How did I ever raise such crazy kids?’ Bet stood up. ‘Now, I’ve got a heap of ironing to do.’

  ‘This needs to be tighter.’

  Lucy winced as Jack adjusted the harness, desperately regretting that she’d given in. But he’d won, as usual. Being strapped on top of the wing was not a whole lot of fun as far as she was concerned. She liked to be in control, and that was the last thing she’d be, stuck up here.

  ‘That’s better,’ Jack grunted with satisfaction. ‘You’re a little taller than Sue.’

  ‘I don’t know how you talked me into this, but I wouldn’t do it for anyone else.’ Lucy took a deep breath, longing for this ordeal to be over.

  ‘I know that, and I appreciate it.’ He climbed off the wing, jumped to the ground and grinned up at her. ‘I’ll buy you a huge steak after the show.’

  ‘Don’t mention food,’ she groaned as her stomach did an uncomfortable lurch. ‘Let’s get this stunt over with. And no fancy stuff, Jack, or I’ll kill you when we get down.’

  ‘You’ll have a nice smooth ride, I promise.’ After a final check that everything was in order, he got in the cockpit and was soon thundering along the field to reach take-off speed.

  Lucy closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. She hadn’t eaten a thing today and was glad her stomach was empty. Like her brother, she was a good aerobatic pilot, and as they left the ground, she wished she had her hands on the controls. Stuck up here at the mercy of the wind and pilot was no fun, but she trusted Jack, and that was the only reason she was doing this.

  The plane banked and turned to make a low-level sweep over the crowd. She knew the routine and managed a wave as if she was enjoying the ride. It was a good job they couldn’t hear her cussing.

  When they landed Lucy’s relief was immense, but when her brother climbed on to the wing to release her from the harness, she swore under her breath. ‘You’ll have to help me down. I don’t think my legs are going to work properly.’

  ‘You did great, and the crowd loved it.’ He placed an arm around her waist and guided her down to the ground. He gave her cheek a peck. ‘Thanks, I know how you hated doing that.’

  Her stomach growled. ‘You can show your gratitude by getting me a strong coffee and a couple of doughnuts. I’ve got my routine to do in half an hour.’

  Jack laughed. ‘Hey, you’re feeling better already.’

  ‘Yep.’ Her grin spread, happy now the ordeal was over. ‘All I’ve got to do now is make my legs work.’

  The day of Jack’s departure came all too quickly. Lucy and Bet smiled brightly as they waved him on his way, knowing full well that they were going to have a good cry once he’d gone. They were still having a job to understand why he had decided to do this, but it was clear that he considered it very important. Lucy did wonder if it was for a new challenge, but when she’d mentioned this to him, he’d just shaken his head, but hadn’t explained his motives – he never did. He’d just said it was something he had to do.

  The tears came, were mopped up, and mother and daughter tried to ease their loss with coffee and freshly-baked cookies.

  Bet managed a watery smile. ‘Jack never could stand anyone being bullied or treated unjustly, could he? Do you remember how he would always wade in and sort out any arguments at school or in the neighbourhood? He must feel the same about this war and just had to do something about it.’

  ‘Of course! I’ve been trying to work out why he was doing this, but I’d forgotten that. He never could stand by and do nothing, could he, Mom.’

  ‘That’s Jack all over.’ Bet poured them another cup of coffee. ‘He said he’d try and come home before he’s shipped to England.’

  ‘He’ll do his best,’ Lucy agreed, feeling a little better now. They’d see him again soon.

  ‘What are you going to do now, Lucy?’

  She shrugged. ‘Still fly in the shows, I suppose, but it won’t be the same without Jack. And he’s not the only one leaving. Two more of the regular pilots are joining our air force in case we enter the war.’

  ‘This damned war in Europe is reaching out and touching us whether we like it or not, isn’t it?’

  ‘It sure is, but only on a personal level. If Jack hadn’t decided to get involved, I doubt we’d have realised this. Do you think America will stay out of it?’

  ‘I think the President would like us to become involved, but he knows the majority of Americans are against being dragged into a war they feel has nothing to do with them.’

  Lucy helped herself to another cookie, her thoughts sombre.

  ‘We are helping, though,’ Bet said quietly. ‘We’re sending food and arms to them.’

  ‘And Jack,’ Lucy murmured.

  Bet spoke with a catch in her voice. ‘And Jack.’

  Chapter Six

  There were ships as far as the eye could see. Jack shielded his cigarette to light it, then drew in deeply and blew out the smoke, watching it being snatched away on the wind. It was only
the middle of October, but out at sea the weather was cold. They had set sail from Halifax three days ago. The journey to Liverpool would take around sixteen days in all. Jack leant on the rail, his gaze sweeping the ocean. What a sight! He’d been told that there were more than sixty ships in the convoy, and he couldn’t help wondering how many would reach England. It would be a massacre if the U-boats found them.

  His thoughts drifted back over the last few weeks. After arriving in Montreal he’d gone on to Ottowa to be checked out on Harvards, then to Toronto for twin-engine planes. It had been a busy time, but he’d got through it all easily, much to his relief. He’d made up his mind to go to England and would have been upset if they’d turned him down. He was a good pilot, though, and his newly-acquired instructor’s licence had been helpful. He was glad he’d taken that six months ago. He’d never visited this beleaguered country before, but he’d always felt drawn towards it, and as soon as he’d heard about the struggle they were having, he wanted to help in any way he could. He knew a lot of people back home thought he was crazy, but that didn’t bother him.

  He hadn’t managed to get home before they’d sailed because they had been on standby, waiting for the convoy to assemble. He was sorry about that, but perhaps it was for the best. The first parting had been hard enough, but this one would have been worse.

  ‘Did you manage to get any sleep?’

  Jack turned as another American pilot joined him. They were the only two on this convoy, but others were waiting to come. ‘Not much, Don.’ He held out the packet of cigarettes. ‘How about you?’

  Don took a cigarette and lit it. ‘Wide awake all night. Men were snoring all around me, but I kept waiting for a bloody torpedo to come through the bulkhead.’

  ‘I know what you mean. Wish we could have flown over.’

  ‘Yeah. Safer and more comfortable.’ Don leant on the rail next to Jack, scanning the ocean. ‘These merchant seamen are brave men. I’m on edge making one trip, but they go back and forth the whole time knowing that each journey might be their last.’

  ‘The fighter pilots in England know they could die at any time but, like the seamen, they keep fighting. And what about London with bombs raining down night after night? How are the people coping?’

  ‘I can’t imagine.’ Don rubbed a hand over his eyes. ‘What do you think we’ll find when we get there? Providing we make it, of course.’

  ‘We’ll make it. There’s a couple of destroyers guarding us.’

  Don gave his companion an incredulous look. ‘Ever the optimist, Jack. It’s a nasty thought that there might be U-boats gathering for the kill.’

  ‘Nah.’ Jack slapped Don on the back and grinned. ‘There’s a storm brewing, I’m told, and that will make attack difficult. We’ll get there. That poor bloody country needs all the help it can get. Now, let’s get some food. I’m starving.’

  Don tossed his cigarette into the sea. ‘Well, in that case, we’d better eat before the storm hits. And you’re right: we’re both here because we can’t stand by and watch the Nazis gain even more power. They’ve got to be stopped, and Britain’s the prize they want now. That maniac is after world domination.’

  ‘He won’t get it.’ Jack spoke confidently. ‘He hasn’t been able to knock out the RAF, and without that he can’t invade.’

  ‘True.’ Don rubbed his hands together and smiled for the first time. ‘I can’t wait to get over there. It should be exciting. I wonder if we’ll get to fly Spitfires?’

  ‘Sure we will.’

  The entire convoy had made it. Jack and Don watched the activity as they docked in Liverpool. It was early morning, but the place was buzzing with noise as the men shouted instruction, smiles on their faces to see the ships arriving safely. No time was being wasted in securing the ships and getting them unloaded. There were others waiting to come in for unloading as soon as there was room.

  ‘My God!’ Don breathed out a breath of amazement. ‘They look pleased to see us, but I’ll bet they’re not as relieved as I am to see land again.’

  Jack felt excitement race through him. They were here at last. ‘This is an island, don’t forget, and these ships are their life blood.’

  Don nodded grimly. ‘And Hitler knows that.’

  They fell silent as they drank in their first encounter with a nation at war. The sense of urgency was palpable, and they were both eager to get off the ship that had been their home for the last sixteen days.

  ‘They said someone would meet us,’ Don muttered, scanning the people on the dock for likely candidates. As the gangplank was lowered two men walked towards it. ‘There! That might be them, Jack.’

  Before Jack could answer, an officer came up to them. ‘You can go ashore now, and good luck.’

  They shook hands, and Jack said, ‘Thanks for getting us here safely.’

  ‘Our pleasure. The U-boats didn’t find us this time.’

  Don looked as if he couldn’t quite believe the officer’s casual tone. ‘How could they possibly miss such a huge convoy?’

  ‘Oh, it happens sometimes – not often – but the ocean is a large place. Now, I believe your escort has arrived.’

  As the officer walked away, Jack and Don hoisted their bags on to their shoulders and made their way off the ship. They stepped on to the dockside with relief, for neither of them had enjoyed the journey.

  There was no doubt that the two men were waiting for them. They were wearing dark blue uniforms with the distinctive gold wings on their jackets. The Americans had been told about the infamous English reserve, but the polite, formal greeting still took them by surprise, especially as Jack was sure he’d met one of them before. He couldn’t place him at the moment, though.

  After introductions were made, they were asked if they’d had a good journey. Neither American knew what to say, and they merely shrugged and said, ‘Yeah, sure.’

  ‘Good.’ The man who had introduced himself as Captain Johnson ushered them towards a car.

  ‘Where are we going?’ Don fell into step beside him.

  ‘London first, then on to Maidenhead.’

  On reaching the car and stowing their bags in the trunk – or boot, as the English called it – Don got in the front with Captain Johnson, who was driving, and Jack sat in the back with the other man – Captain Simon Trent. He studied the man beside him carefully. Not only was the name familiar, but also the face. They had met before, but where? He frowned as a wide smile appeared on Simon’s face.

  ‘Placed me yet?’

  After searching his memory, Jack clicked his fingers. ‘Berlin, 1936. We were there for an air display.’

  ‘That’s right. I recognised your name and volunteered to come and meet you.’

  ‘It’s great to see you.’ Jack was elated to find someone he already knew, albeit a very brief acquaintance.

  There wasn’t time to talk, as they were soon pulling up outside a railway station.

  Captain Johnson turned in his seat. ‘Let’s hope there are still trains running to London. They took another pasting last night. Better check, Simon, before I leave you.’

  ‘Right.’

  Jack watched Simon until he went through the door, and then turned to Captain Johnson. ‘Why are we going to London? I thought we were to be stationed at a place called White Waltham.’

  ‘Oh, you are,’ the captain said briskly. ‘But that will have to be your first stop, and Simon will see if he can get transport from there for you. If not, it will have to be another train, I’m afraid. The timetable can be rather erratic.’

  ‘We’re in luck.’ Simon came back to the car and held open the door. ‘There’s a train expected in about half an hour.’

  ‘Good. I’ll leave you to look after our guests.’

  Jack and Don exchanged amused glances at being referred to as guests, and as soon as they had their bags, the car sped off, obviously in a hurry.

  The station was crowded, and it looked as if some people had been there for a long time. It was a
sea of uniforms. Some were sitting on the platform, eyes closed, others were reading; some were in circles with playing cards in their hands as they gambled away the time, and their money. The new recruits followed Simon as he weaved his way towards a kiosk with the letters ‘WVS’ painted on it.

  ‘How many trains are they expecting?’ Don muttered, as they pushed through the throng.

  Simon heard and looked back, giving an apologetic shrug. ‘Just one. It will be an uncomfortable journey, and we’ll probably have to stand all the way … Three strong teas,’ Simon said when they reached the kiosk.

  ‘Righty-ho.’ The woman peered at Simon’s uniform and frowned. ‘Why you got gold wings for?’

  ‘It’s the Air Transport Auxiliary.’

  ‘Ah, you’re a pilot then.’ She nodded approval and set about pouring the tea. ‘You peckish? We’ve got some sandwiches.’

  ‘Lovely, thanks.’ Simon turned to Jack and Don. ‘Hungry?’

  ‘Starving,’ they answered in unison.

  The WVS woman looked them over doubtfully. ‘You ain’t military.’

  ‘You can give them refreshments.’ Simon’s tone was amused. ‘They’re pilots as well, just arrived from America.’

  ‘What?’ An elderly face appeared from the back of the kiosk. ‘Don’t tell me they’ve come into the war and no one told me?’

  ‘I’m afraid not, ma’am.’ Jack beamed, thoroughly enjoying the encounter. ‘But some of us want to help.’

  The woman let out a huge laugh. ‘Hark at that! I ain’t never been called ma’am before. Makes me feel like the bloody queen! You’re welcome, lads.’

  The head disappeared, and the next minute all three men had steaming mugs of tea and chunky sandwiches. There wasn’t much filling in them, but Jack and Don were too hungry to bother about that. However, Don was examining his mug with an expression of distaste on his face, and glanced up when he heard Simon chuckle.

  ‘Sorry, but we don’t have any coffee. You’ll get used to it. The British run on endless cups of tea.’

 

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