A Flight of Golden Wings

by Beryl Matthews

  ‘Caution is my middle name, Jack.’

  ‘I’d be happier if it was your first name.’

  ‘Jack, pack it in.’ She gave him an exasperated glance. ‘I’ve had breakfast at the pub, but I’ll have a cup of tea with you while you eat.’

  That would keep her on the ground for a while longer, he thought with satisfaction as they made their way to the Mess.

  Jack watched while Ruth took off, and then headed for the Spitfire. He didn’t know why he had shouted at her yesterday. She seemed to have a sensible head on her shoulders, and she’d been doing this job longer than he had. If anyone knew the dangers and risks, it was her.

  After carefully checking over the plane, he climbed in and took off, experiencing the same thrill he felt every time he flew one of these wonderful planes. He talked himself out of worrying about Ruth. Simon was full of praise for her skill as a pilot, and she was well used to the vagaries of the English weather. He’d exploded at her because of frustration at being grounded by the weather, he thought. Yes, that was it. After all, why should he get in such a stew about someone he seemed to upset every time they met?

  Ahead he glimpsed a patch of blue sky. He whistled softly as he zoomed towards it, doing a little wiggle of the wings. And what about that invitation to her folks’ home for Christmas? Gee, that was great. Perhaps they could spend some time together without arguing …

  Chapter Ten

  Don had only been in hospital for a week and then went straight back to flying, seeming none the worse for his accident. He’d gone home with Gussie, whose family would, no doubt, make a huge fuss of him. Jack was also looking forward to Christmas. They had from Christmas Eve and wouldn’t have to return to duty for three days. The trains weren’t heated, and it had been a cold journey, but they’d both travelled in their warm flying boots.

  ‘Here we are.’ Ruth stopped by a gap in a high wall. ‘They took our wrought iron gates for the war effort.’

  Jack stopped and stared. To his mind this was everything an English country house should be. The two-storey building was old and elegant. There were large black timbers set in the structure that reached up to the roof. It was the kind of place he’d only seen in magazines.

  ‘Jack,’ Ruth called as he lingered.

  He caught her up. ‘Your house is absolutely stunning.’

  ‘It is nice, isn’t it? It’s been in our family for five generations. Come on, let’s get out of the cold.’

  Inside it was warm and homely, the sort of place you could relax in and be comfortable. He had wondered briefly if it would be a show place, but that wasn’t the case. Oh, he was going to enjoy spending Christmas in this gorgeous house.

  ‘Mum, Dad, this is Jack Nelson,’ Ruth introduced their guest.

  Her father was the first to step up, pleasure on his face. ‘Welcome, Jack, we’re pleased you could come.’

  ‘It was good of you to invite me, sir.’

  Ruth’s mother clasped his hand. ‘You come and sit by the fire. You must be frozen. I’ll make some tea and show you to your room afterwards.’ She hesitated. ‘Or would you prefer coffee? Your mother and sister very kindly sent some to Ruth.’

  ‘Tea will be just fine, ma’am.’ He grinned at Ruth. ‘I don’t know how we’d fly without it.’

  Watching her parents fuss over Jack with undisguised pleasure made Ruth realise that he was around the same age Robert would have been. Robert would always be missed, especially at this time of year, but having Jack here would help to fill that gap in some way. And her family would help to ease the fact that Jack’s family were a long way away.

  ‘Sit down,’ her father urged, as his wife hurried off to make the tea. Then he turned to his daughter. ‘How long have you got, Ruth?’

  ‘We have to go back on Boxing Day.’

  ‘Splendid. Let’s hope the Luftwaffe leaves poor old London alone over the holiday! Did you know, Ruth, that our law chambers had all the windows blown out the other night?’

  ‘No! Was anyone hurt?’

  ‘The place was empty, thank goodness. Ah, here comes the tea. Ruth and Jack don’t have to go back until Boxing Day, my dear.’

  ‘How lovely. That means you’ll be able to have a nice rest.’

  Jack stood up and took the tray from Ruth’s mother, then placed it on the table before the fire. ‘Yes, we managed to get more time off than we’d expected.’

  Ruth helped her mother pour the tea and hand it round. ‘I’ll take my car back with me, Dad. I’ve been saving my petrol ration.’

  ‘Good idea. Trains will probably be scarce when you have to return. After we’ve had tea I’ll check it over and take it to the garage for the petrol.’

  Jack seemed completely at ease with Ruth’s parents, and they were obviously impressed. His manners were impeccable without being forced or insincere. Ruth relaxed. They had clashed a couple of times and she’d been doubtful about bringing him home with her, but her fears had been groundless. They had seen each other infrequently – more like passing ships in the night – but she was beginning to realise that he really was a charming, intelligent man. Don had an air of brashness about him, but that was completely absent in Jack Nelson, and she wondered why she had never noticed it before.

  When her father stood up and said that he was going to see to her car, Jack also got to his feet. ‘I’ll come with you, sir, if that’s all right.’

  Her father’s pleasure couldn’t have been more evident. ‘Of course, and call me George. Get your coat. I wouldn’t be surprised if we had snow soon.’

  When the men had left the room, Ruth put another log on the fire, then settled down to enjoy a quiet time with her mother.

  ‘That’s a nice young man, dear. Thank you for bringing him home.’ She gazed at her daughter thoughtfully. ‘Do you see much of him?’

  ‘Now, Mum,’ Ruth scolded gently. ‘I know that look. He’s just a colleague.’

  ‘Oh, I hoped he might be special to you, seeing as you’ve brought him home.’

  ‘We have a few different nationalities in the ATA, and we’ve tried to see that they all have company over Christmas. I write to Jack’s sister, so he was the natural choice to come with me.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘I doubt that!’ Ruth shook her head. Knowing her mother’s romantic nature, she changed the subject. ‘Tell me what you’ve been up to lately.’

  They had been talking for quite a while when Ruth’s mother glanced at the clock. ‘Whatever is keeping them? I’ll be serving lunch in half an hour.’

  ‘I’ll see if they’re in the garage.’ Ruth slipped on her coat, and as she stepped outside a blast of icy wind almost took her breath away. Their garage was no warmer, but the two men inside seemed oblivious to the cold. She closed the door quietly behind her and watched, a lump in her throat. She had seen her father and brother like this so many times. Jack had his head under the bonnet of her car, and her father was in the driver’s seat.

  ‘Try it now, George,’ Jack called.

  The engine roared into life and Jack cocked his head to one side as he listened, then stood back with a grunt of satisfaction. ‘That sounds healthier.’

  ‘It certainly does.’ George turned off the engine and climbed out of the MG. ‘You know what you’re doing with engines, don’t you?’

  Jack nodded as he snapped the bonnet back into place and began trying to clean the worst of the grease from his hands with an old rag. ‘I’ve always serviced my own plane – didn’t trust anyone else.’

  At that moment, Ruth’s father spotted her. ‘Did you hear that, darling? Your little car has never sounded so sweet.’

  ‘Lovely, Dad, and thank you, Jack.’ She tried to look stern, but couldn’t manage it. How her father must miss moments like this now Robert was gone. ‘Mother is wondering where you’ve got to. Lunch will be ready any moment.’

  ‘Oh, gracious, is that the time? We’d better get cleaned up, Jack. Alice will be cross if we’re late.’ George rubbed his cold
hands together. ‘You’ve got just over half a tank of petrol, Ruth. That should get you back to base with a little to spare.’

  ‘That’s good. At least we won’t have a cold train journey back.’ She ushered them towards the door. ‘I’ll show you to your room, Jack.’

  ‘I’ll do that, darling. You go and help your mother with the lunch.’

  Christmas had been a huge success. Ruth’s parents had taken to Jack from the moment he’d stepped through the door. He had come away with an open invitation to visit them any time he had a break from flying. He would always be welcome, they had told him sincerely. Ruth hadn’t seen them so happy for some time, and it did her heart good to watch their animated faces as they talked and laughed with him. She hoped he would keep his promise and go and see them as often as he could. Her respect for him had also grown over the holiday.

  One of the first things she did when she returned to Hatfield was write to Jack’s sister and mother, knowing they would be comforted to know that Jack hadn’t spent Christmas alone.

  1941 swept in with icy conditions, making flying difficult. At times a blanket of snow covered the ground, obscuring familiar landmarks that were the only means of navigation. The ATA always carried maps, but they weren’t a lot of good in such conditions.

  ‘Bloody hell!’ Gussie stomped into the Mess, wearing a balaclava, scarf, two pairs of trousers and two jackets. In this weather the girls all squeezed into as much clothing as they could. Some of the trainers had open cockpits, and it was perishing. This was one job the men were quite happy to leave to the women.

  ‘I missed a barrage balloon by a whisker today.’ Gussie was standing right in front of the fire in an effort to thaw out. ‘And do you know what some sarcastic bloke said after I’d had to go round again before landing?’

  She waited until she had everyone’s attention. ‘“Your approach was a bit out, miss”! I pointed out – quite politely – that we have to navigate by sight, and that’s difficult when the airfield, and surrounding area, is just a white blanket of snow. I told him that his approach would have been off as well.’ Gussie looked smug. ‘I studied his uniform devoid of wings and added, “That’s if you could fly, of course”.’

  There were muted giggles. Any man who tried to get the better of Gussie was dicing with danger.

  At that moment their head of operations came into the Mess and surveyed the pilots with affection. ‘The factories are screaming for planes to be shifted. There are far too many of them standing around, and with the raids we’ve had lately, they’re getting edgy. But—’ She held up her hand as the girls began to get up ‘– the weather’s bad, so don’t take any chances.’

  That was the pattern for the next three months. They flew when they could, and sometimes when they shouldn’t. There was also a lot of hanging around, waiting for an improvement in the weather. Ruth saw little of Jack, but heard from her parents that he had spent two days with them at the end of February. They sounded delighted, and she was grateful to him for visiting them. She hadn’t been able to get home herself, because she had either been flying or on a course of some kind or another.

  They all longed for the spring, but with the return of better weather, the Luftwaffe intensified its attacks, once again pounding the ports, factories and other strategic areas of the South and Midlands. Other parts of the country also suffered.

  It was in the spring that the ATA advertised for more pilots. The number of flying hours required was reduced and the grade of Cadet was introduced. With manufacturers working at full capacity and with the lengthening days it wasn’t unusual for the pilots to make several deliveries in one day.

  There were sad times when an ATA pilot was killed. They lost one woman who had been a very experienced pilot. Ruth hadn’t known her well, but they all felt the loss of one of their group.

  July was on them before they’d had time to notice the passing months. Ruth, like the rest of the girls, was concentrating on her job. There wasn’t any question of them taking much time off: if the weather was good, they flew.

  Ruth walked into the Mess one morning, having been brought back by the taxi Anson after her second delivery that day, to an air of suppressed excitement, though everybody was trying to appear casual.

  ‘What’s going on?’ she asked, tossing down her parachute. ‘I saw Captain Anders, the flying technical officer from White Waltham, as I came in. Anyone know what he’s doing here?’

  Gussie was leaning against the wall, filing her nails and looking totally at ease. ‘I’m glad you’re back in time because they’re going to let some of us have a go at flying that Hurricane he’s brought with him.’ She then spoilt her casual attitude by grinning wickedly. ‘And about time too!’

  ‘Who’s been chosen?’ Ruth’s insides tightened with anticipation.

  ‘Don’t know yet, but they’ll have to use some of us who are already here.’ Tricia gazed longingly out of the window at the Hurricane.

  The first one to be called was Sally Westbury. She had been in the ATA from the beginning and now worked mostly on the administration side, but she was one of the most experienced pilots in the group and often flew the Anson.

  They all rushed outside to watch this momentous occasion. Everyone was well aware how much depended on this flight. One mistake and the whole idea would be shelved.

  No one spoke as Sally took off, completed the required circuit and made a perfect landing.

  She climbed out and walked towards the waiting girls. Only they saw the sly wink she gave them. ‘Lovely plane to fly, and so easy to handle.’

  With those words of encouragement their hopes soared. They’d always been confident that they could fly the operational aircraft, and now they were finally being given the chance.

  Ruth was called next and felt Tricia squeeze her hand. They were all maintaining an air of calm, wanting to let the officer see that they were taking this in their stride.

  As Ruth took off all her tension disappeared. The speed and roar of the engine was exhilarating, and her concentration was total, as she determined to do as well as Sally. One bad move and this chance would be snatched from them. She couldn’t help giving a quiet little yelp of delight when her landing was smooth – the kind of landing no one could criticise.

  Tricia and Gussie were next, and they both kept up the standard. The officer couldn’t find fault with the way they’d handled the fighter, and left to make his report.

  There was great excitement in the Mess, with those who hadn’t been given the chance demanding to know when they could fly one.

  The officer in charge of the Hatfield group clapped her hands for quiet. Jane ran the women’s section with enthusiasm and efficiency, fighting all the time for them to take on a bigger role in the ATA. She wanted them on an equal footing with the men, and wouldn’t stop until she had achieved that for them. ‘That was an impressive display of flying. With the excellent Ferry Pilots’ Handling Notes we now have, you will now be able to fly any plane in this group.’

  ‘What about the four engines?’ Gussie asked.

  ‘We’ve broken down one barrier, the next one I’m still working on, so be patient. Now, I suggest that you go out tonight and celebrate.’

  ‘What shall we wear tonight?’ Tricia asked, as they made plans for a night in London. They had arranged to meet more of the girls there, so they could all celebrate together.

  ‘I’m wearing my uniform.’ Gussie was examining her lipstick to make sure there was enough left for the evening. Then she looked up at her friends. ‘We’ll be flying fighters as well from now on, and we’ve got a right to our golden wings.’

  ‘I agree,’ Ruth said. ‘Let’s all go in uniform for a change, and we can use my car. I’ve got enough petrol for this one trip.’

  An hour later they all squeezed into Ruth’s car, in high spirits, and set off for London.

  With flying over for the day, Jack was still in the Mess, listening to the wireless. In April Germany had invaded Yugoslavia and Gree
ce and, having failed in their attempt to bring Britain to her knees and complete his domination of Europe, Hitler had turned his attention to Russia. Was there no end to the man’s ambition?

  ‘Still here, Jack?’ Simon sat down beside him.

  ‘Yeah. Don’s in Scotland, and the rest of them are scattered all over the country. It’ll be a bit lonely at the house tonight so I thought I’d stay here for a while.’ Jack changed the subject. Most of the time he was too busy to feel homesick, but it had a habit of creeping up on him when he relaxed. He changed the subject. ‘The factories are turning out planes as fast as we can shift them. We need more pilots, Simon.’

  ‘We’ll have a few more from today. Haven’t you heard?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Four of the women flew a Hurricane today under the watchful eyes of Captain Anders.’

  ‘Wow! Who was it, and how did they do?’

  ‘It was Sally, Ruth, Tricia and Gussie. Anders told me they flew them with ease, and he was particularly pleased with the smooth landings. He sees no reason why they shouldn’t all soon be flying the operational planes in this group.’

  ‘Good for them!’ Jack slapped his knee in delight. ‘Hey, we ought to go and congratulate them.’

  ‘That will have to wait until tomorrow. The last I heard they were all heading for London for a night out.’

  Jack was disappointed. He saw very little of Ruth and would have enjoyed joining in their celebrations. ‘They should have told us and we could have gone with them.’

  ‘That wouldn’t have been right, Jack. What they did today was a milestone for them, and they’ll want to share this moment with each other.’

  ‘Of course they will.’ Jack stood up. ‘But there’s nothing to stop us raising a glass to their success. Come on, Simon, I’ll buy you a pint at the pub.’

  Chapter Eleven