Kat and Die Wolfsschanze

by Michael Beals

  Stirling’s frown deepened. “I hear where you’re coming from, but the timing would have to be perfect.”

  She shrugged, “We’ve all got watches.”

  Kelly held up a hand. “Can I… put a spoke in the wheel? Maybe, just maybe, Sandro and I will be able to steal a couple of planes. We might even be able to land them in the wadi. However, it’s going to take a bit of practice to use them as warplanes.”

  “Exactly,” Stirling exclaimed. “Which means we only have one more night attack, not two. The question is, do we go on Kat’s mission or a repeat of last night?”

  “Why is called Kat’s mission?” Capetti asked, slightly annoyed. “Sam and I fly planes.”

  “Because it’s her idea, but if you want to call it Alessandro’s Artifice, that’s fine with me.”

  “Artifice? What is artifice?”

  “You know what contrivance means?”

  “No.”

  “Then, don’t worry about it. What’s the decision?”

  “How many people do you need to set up the landing lights?” Kat asked.

  Stirling waved his hands in the air. “I don’t know… five or six.”

  “Then I vote we go on my mission. You’d still have enough men to do a raid, and we’d be with you. Wouldn’t that be a blessing?”

  “Wouldn’t it? Then let’s put it to the vote. Hands up for Kat’s mission,” he said, looking around. Ten hands wavered in the air. He started to comment on the vote when two more hands went up.

  Kat Smiled. They chose her mission.

  CHAPTER 5

  At 1400 they left the Moghra Oasis, which meant they wouldn’t reach the airfield until 0400, an hour before dawn. In normal circumstances, it could have been a disaster, but these weren’t normal circumstances. If Kelly and Capetti could get two fighter planes off the ground, they could paralyze the entire airfield, which meant that no one would be able to follow them into the desert. It would be like a re-run of Pearl Harbor. The Germans wouldn’t be expecting the attack. Lightning never strikes the same place twice.

  Moreover, Stirling set a pattern for their night raids. They always attacked between midnight and 0200. By 0400, the Germans would assume that nothing would happen. Even if they’d tripled the guards, and they probably would after last night, everyone would relax. Only one problem, it wouldn’t be enough to shoot the guards nearest the southern perimeter. They would have to kill every single guard. Kelly and Capetti would be sitting in their soon-to-be-stolen fighter planes for half an hour before the Lewes bombs went off.

  While four of Stirling’s men laid out all the Tilley lamps at the wadi, Kelly, Atkins, and Lewes, spent the remainder of the day making silencers for all the Sten guns. The tactics for this raid would be different. The guards would most likely be in pairs, so the snipers would have to work in pairs. Kat would be working with Dore again, Atkins with Harry Stewart. Stirling would team up with Lewes, Paddy Mayne with Charlie Cubbins, and so on, eight pairs of snipers.

  “Wow! What a mess,” Kat said, as they passed the destroyed halftrack. “Did you bring bazookas?”

  Kelly glanced at her. “As it happens, I did, but I won’t be coming back with you, Kat. You’ll be driving back with Jock, or Harry, here.”

  “She’ll be with me,” Stewart said. “Jock’s driving back with Atkins.”

  “Did you talk to Stirling about which planes to steal?”

  “Yes, we did. As you probably saw, the planes are lined up along the runway. We’re going to steal two that are at the far end of the line. We’ll be less visible down there.”

  “That means taxiing back to the takeoff point.”

  “That’s okay. We’re not even going to start the engines until two or three planes have blown up. They’ll just assume we’re German pilots, saving the planes from destruction.”

  She peered at him. “Where’s your pistol. Why aren’t you armed?”

  “I didn’t bring it. The cockpit seats are tiny. I don’t want to get snagged. Stop worrying.”

  “You need to be armed. What if someone tries to stop you?”

  “Then they’ll stop me. If I were armed and shot someone, the Germans would machine gun me to death. I’d rather end up in Colditz than six feet under, thank you very much.”

  They were nearing the parking point. Even in the moonlight, Kat recognized the way the dunes curved around. In the next few minutes, they’d be walking across the desert, and there would be no turning back.

  The convoy slowed as Stirling’s Jeep swung into a full corral of gravel at the foot of the dunes. On tonight’s mission, they were only going to plant ten Lewes bombs, one bomb by each of Stirling’s men, which meant that Kat and her team would carry the Sten guns. She jumped out and began collecting them. They were fitted with sound suppressors now, so they were longer in the barrel and noticeably heavier and using subsonic ammo. If Stirling took a liking to silenced weapons, he would need more for future missions, and she found herself wondering how easy it was to procure large amounts of subsonic ammunition.

  As usual, Stirling rounded everyone up for last-minute instructions. “So are we all clear about who’s teaming with who?” he asked, making a point of peering at Kat. When everyone nodded, he said, “I’ll say this one last time. You find your targets and wait for my signal. You’re to aim for the head. I know it’s a small target, but a screaming guard would be a disaster. If anyone has a problem with their target, I want to see a waving hand, and a raised thumb when you’re good. When I’m sure you’re all happy, I’m going to say, one, two, three, now. Kelly and Capetti, you’ll be lying next to me. I’ll tell you when to go.”

  “We start engines on first explosion?” Capetti asked. “Or later?”

  “The third explosion would be better. The pencil fuses set to fifteen minutes. It’s quite chilly tonight. They should be accurate. Once you’re safe aboard their planes, we’ll plant the bombs. Then we all wait. We leave on my signal, not the first explosion. I want to see Kelly and Capetti’s planes moving. If anyone tries to stop them, we fire at will. Any questions?”

  “And if they mobilize quickly?” Paddy Mayne asked, lighting a cigarette.

  “I imagine they’ll be too busy moving their planes to safety to mobilize that quickly, and by then, Kelly and Capetti will be in the air. If they’re able to strafe the airfield, no one’s going to be chasing us.”

  They continued to trudge towards the airfield, moonlight glistening on the dunes. They were in familiar territory now. Kat recognized the steeper climbs. This time she didn’t bother to keep beneath their crests. The Germans illuminated the airfield so brightly that the desert appeared comparatively dark. Or would it? It occurred to her that the Germans might have moved the guards into the desert.

  “Major!” she hissed. “What if they have guards in the dunes?”

  “They can’t,” he whispered. “They need to protect the planes.”

  “They could have outriders?”

  “They have to keep the airfield in sight. The Germans vision will still be semi-impaired. We’ve been driving in the moonlight for two hours. We’ll see them. Now stop talking.”

  Nevertheless, she kept her eyes peeled for the last two hundred yards. Stirling was right, when they arrived at the final ridge of dunes, the guards were exactly where they had been the night before. There were merely more of them, twenty-two in all. They were wandering up and down the perimeter and nodding as they passed each other.

  Concealed behind the final dune, they put the Lewes bombs to one side, took their weapons and settled onto their stomachs, a tightly packed row of snipers. The guards covered an area of four hundred yards, protecting the parked aircraft, which meant that the
SAS gunfire would fan out. It wasn’t a problem, but it did mean that the furthest guards would be harder to hit, especially since they were moving.

  Stirling waved them back into the dunes. “Change of tactics,” he whispered. “We have to stop them from walking. So I’m not going to signal you. When you’re all ready, I’m going to fire a shot at the cockpit of the nearest Messerschmitt. When they hear the sound, they’ll all stop to listen. That’s when you open fire. Sergeant Dore! Kat Wolfram!” he hissed. “Corporal Atkins! Captain Stewart! Are you all as good as you claim?”

  Dore gave a little two-finger salute and nodded, and Kat gave a thumbs-up.

  “Good. I want you to take out the most distant guards. Two of you to the left. The other two to the right. It means that you’ll have to shoot two men in quick succession. Can you do that?”

  Dore, Atkins, Stewart, and Kat nodded.

  “Fine. We’re set. Let’s go.”

  Moving back to the ridge, they settled into the sand again. At that moment, they spotted a pair of guards maybe two hundred yards away, not an impossible distance. She glanced at Dore. He shrugged, then she took aim. They waited for Stirling’s signal. Stirling watched them. Kat gave him a thumbs-up.

  Stirling scanned the team one last time, took aim, and pulled the trigger. There was a loud cracking sound, and all the guards stopped to listen. Some of them spoke to their partner, and Kat imagined them saying, ‘what the hell was that?’

  She pulled the trigger. But the guard in her sight only stood there. Did she miss? It didn’t feel as if she’d missed. Then very slowly, the guard crumpled, landing in a heap beside his dead partner. When she finally lowered her gun, there wasn’t a guard left standing, only a thin haze of cordite, lingering in the night air.

  Kat heard a rush of air. Kelly and Capetti were running at a crouch towards the parked fighter planes. She watched, her heart in her mouth, as Kelly ducked under a wing, and scrambled towards the end of the line, Capetti hot on his heels. She scanned the airfield to see if anyone was watching as Kelly climbed onto a wing. He opened the cockpit’s canopy, climbed inside, and closed it. She darted a look at Capetti. He climbed into the Messerschmitt next to Kelly’s. She scanned the airfield. Incredibly, there was no one in sight. Even the Control Tower seemed void of life.

  A series of metallic clunks as Stirling’s men put their weapons down, heavy breathing as they picked up the Lewes bombs, the padding of feet, more heavy breathing. They ran at a crouch towards the planes, rows of Messerschmitts glistening in the moonlight. Alone with Dore, she lay there, entranced. Atkins and Stewart went with Stirling. She and Dore were to shoot any guards who ventured too near to the rows of parked planes.

  A figure appeared, walking briskly between buildings. Kat watched as they disappeared through a doorway. Why was the airfield so quiet? Why weren’t people watching from the Control Tower? Then she realized it was 0400. In one hour, people would be waking up. They were sleeping as long as they could before reveille dragged them into consciousness. She smiled. They wouldn’t need to wait until reveille.

  The men were coming back, and this time they were all together, fifteen of them, running at a crouch. They were breathing hard and sweating, their eyes wide as they adjusted to the darkness again. Moving back behind the highest dune, they watched and waited. The airfield empty of the living, the bodies of twenty-two guards sprawled in the sand. She couldn’t see Kelly. She knew which plane he sat in. Apart from the German cross, painted on the fuselage, there were no identifying marks. Maybe he’d hunched down to stay out of sight.

  She began to get into a more comfortable position when a deafening explosion shattered the silence. The Messerschmitt didn’t just explode. It erupted, gouts of burning gasoline blooming skyward. Moments later, another plane exploded, and seconds later, another. A wave of fierce heat hit her, the crackle of burning aluminum, the smell of gasoline. The Messerschmitts’ bullets began to combust, erratic popping and snapping sounds that got louder as the planes burned.

  She squinted through the flames. Above all the noise, she could hear Kelly’s engine roaring. The Messerschmitt turned onto the runway and heading up towards the takeoff point. Then Capetti’s plane began to move. Men were starting to appear. They were standing back, no doubt wondering when the next plane would explode. Commands were being screamed, but no one moved. They were standing there like the audience of a firework display, their faces glowing in the darkness. Kelly opened his canopy. He shouted something in German as he turned around at the takeoff point. Kelly pulled the canopy shut. No one did anything. The Germans only stared.

  Another plane exploded, then another. Men were beginning to run now. Kübelwagens began to appear, their occupants, pilots. Capetti turned behind Kelly’s plane, as Kelly’s engine roared. He started to take off. It was time to go.

  She began to run. She could see the moon, but the desert was dark and hard to define, and when she closed her eyes, she could still see the outline of the flames. Her eyes needed to adjust to the darkness again. She ran on. Stirling further ahead of her, probably couldn’t see very well either. It’s okay, she reassured herself, the Germans can’t see either. All they have to do is reach the Jeeps.

  She heard Kelly’s plane take off. It was the most beautiful sound she’d ever heard, like a friendly bee buzzing overhead. Moments later, Capetti’s plane took off. She was overjoyed. They’d both succeeded. They’d stolen two Messerschmitt 109s. Only one question remained, were they armed. Did the Germans leave the guns loaded at night? Two minutes later, her question answered. Kelly began strafing the airfield destroying two more planes, their explosions muffled, blocked by the dunes. Even the fires were no more than a glow in the night sky. She could see now, moonlight glowing on the dunes. She could see the Jeeps, Stirling’s men running ahead of her. They were almost there.

  CHAPTER 6

  The sun had been up for an hour when they arrived at the Moghra Oasis. Stirling’s airfield crew were back, and so were Kelly and Capetti. There was also a dust-streaked Jeep, bristling with Vickers machine guns parked under the palms. Whoever it belonged to, they’d driven through the night.

  “So how did it go?” she asked Kelly.

  “Absolutely amazing. You should fly across the desert on a moonlit night. It’s the most magical feeling I’ve ever experienced.”

  “I don’t mean that you idiot,” she laughed. “I mean shooting up the airfield. I saw you both strafing it. How did it go?”

  “Oh that!” he groaned while walking towards the gorge. “I don’t know, Kat. We probably did a bit of damage. It wasn’t spectacular though. A couple of the planes caught fire, one even exploded, but mainly we just filled them full of holes. Stirling’s Lewes bombs did more damage. Two exploded when I took off. Almost blew me off the runway.”

  “Well, at least you’re safe.”

  “Piece of cake,” he said. “What happened to you guys?”

  “Usual stuff,” she said, not wanting to discuss the shooting. “Who owns that old Jeep?”

  He grimaced. “Oh, you noticed. I hoped to save you the pain until you’d had some of Sandro’s battery acid.”

  She squinted at him. It wasn’t like Sam to be diplomatic. Something was wrong. “Of course I noticed. Who does it belong to?”

  They were in the gorge now. Stirling’s men were ripping open cans of baked beans and gulping down coffee. Capetti was talking to two men whose long beards, scruffy uniforms, and keffiyehs would have done justice to Viking warriors.

  “They’re from The Long Range Desert Group,” he said, grimacing again, “and they’ve come to see you. They’ve got a message from Commander Fleming, and Sandro’s seriously pissed.”

  The Long Range Desert Group drove through the night to deliver the message, and if Capetti wa
s pissed, it was because yet again, his rank had been ignored. Fleming might be a Naval Commander, but he didn’t have a clue what diplomacy meant.

  “What’s in the message?”

  “We don’t know. I was told to tell you, this message is, For Your Eyes Only. The only thing they’d tell us is that you’ve been promoted to Major.”

  “What!” she exclaimed. “I can’t be promoted to anything. I’m a civilian.”

  “Apparently… not anymore.”

  “That’s why Sandro’s pissed?”

  “That, and the fact that they won’t tell him what it’s about.”

  “Well, let’s find out,” she snapped, stalking towards the two men.

  They stood up and smiled as she approached. One, a Captain and quite handsome if you could see past his disheveled uniform and overgrown beard.

  “Good morning. I’m Kat Wolfram. You have a message for me?”

  “Captain Phillips. They’re orders, actually, Ma’am.”

  “Everyone calls me Kat. I’m not a ma’am. What orders?”

  Pulling out a foolscap manila envelope, he handed it to her. “Apparently, you outrank me,” he said, grinning at her, “so you’re a ma’am unless I hear otherwise.”

  Tearing open the envelope, she pulled out the folded piece of paper. An official letter from the SOE designated her rank as Major and ordered her to report without delay to Army Headquarters in Cairo. The letter gave no reason. The letter had been stamped as Confidential and signed by Commander Fleming.

  “You know what this is about?” she asked Captain Phillips.

  “Not a clue, Ma’am. I’ve been ordered to escort you and your team back to Cairo.”

  “This is ridiculous!” she fumed. “We’re in the middle of an operation. We’re also under the Command of Major Stirling. We can’t go anywhere.”