Eagles Over Britain (The After Dunkirk Series Book 2)

by Lee Jackson

  Red thrust his head down close to Jeremy’s. “Well, I’ll tell you, chum—” He looked around. “Did I use the right word? The one for bud. I’ll tell you, bud, we didn’t come to see you anyway.” He stood with his hands on his hips and grinned at Claire. “We’re here to see your sister.”

  Jeremy’s nurse hurried to the group. “There are too many visitors here,” she fussed. “He needs his rest. Only family is allowed.” She glared at Red. “Are you family?”

  Red exaggerated his pronunciation. “Cain’t you tell, ma’am? We’re twins.” He grinned broadly. “The accent is a dead giveaway.”

  “I’ll give you five minutes,” she said, her high-pitched voice belying her smile, “and then you must leave.” She turned and hurried away, tutting about pilots and shaking her head.

  “It’s great to see you up and about, Jeremy,” Andy said. “You gave us a scare.” He squatted to play with Timmy, joined by Shorty.

  Jeremy leaned his head back, thinking. Then he asked, “Did I imagine that two German fighters followed me down to safety, or did that really happen?”

  “It was witnessed,” Shorty chimed in. “Some of our pilots above you saw them. The Germans could have taken you out easy. The two Messerschmitts followed you until you were close to the coast and preparing to land and flew by on either side of you. Then they took off. We gave them safe passage back across our side of the Channel.”

  “Amazing,” was all that Jeremy could think to say, except to add, “War is amazing. Good people who know nothing about each other shoot and kill each other, or in some cases show remarkable mercy.”

  “My take on it,” Andy chimed in, “they appreciated the incredible flying you did in getting that Spitfire back under control and safely into an approach for landing while wounded. They respected the pilot irrespective of the war.”

  “As I said, good people—”

  “Well guess what, big guy?” Red cut in, grinning. “You’re an official ace. Your tally is now at six.”

  “Incredible,” Jeremy whispered. He looked up. “It’s incredible that I’m alive.”

  Just then, the nurse returned to shoo the trio of American pilots out.

  “But this man’s an ace,” Red joked. “Shouldn’t he get a little extra consideration? And what if we really came to visit his sister?”

  “Then we thank him for his wonderful service, and you’ll have to visit outside.”

  Red laughed and started to say his farewells along with Shorty and Andy.

  “Come to my house the next time you get off,” Claire told them. “Jeremy’s coming home to convalesce there as soon as he’s released from here.”

  Red projected mock indignation. “Will someone please shoot me, so’s I can get some of that sympathy?” Then he bowed to Claire, took her hand, and kissed it. “I’ll see you there next week, milady.”

  After the three friends had left, Claire told Jeremy as much as she knew about Lance and Paul, and of conditions on Sark Island. Timmy nudged her, pleading with upright arms to be picked up. Claire accommodated and cradled him.

  “Do you really think Mum and Dad are going hungry?” Jeremy asked.

  “I don’t know. Sark is somewhat self-sustaining, but if a lot of German soldiers are garrisoned there and taking their food—” She shrugged, leaving the sentence unfinished. “My heart aches for them.” She sniffed and wiped her eyes.

  Jeremy reached out and touched her hand. “Nothing on Timmy’s relatives? Hopefully.”

  Claire smiled. “We do love this little boy, don’t we?” She tousled Timmy’s hair. “The last we heard was about the grandparents in India. We’ve heard nothing more, but I’m not pushing it either. My guess is that the war gets in the way of travel. They would have to appear in England to take custody. We’re certainly not going to send him to people we don’t know who have not been confirmed as legitimate relations.”

  Jeremy lapsed into silence. Then, an almost despairing look crossed his face.

  “What is it?” Claire asked.

  “So much to think about,” he muttered. “Mum and Dad, Lance, Paul. You, alone here taking care of Timmy.” He hesitated. “I worry about Amélie. Marseille is relatively safe for the moment, but I know she’s doing things that are dangerous. Will I ever see her again? And what about her sister, Chantal? She’s only fourteen. Who’s looking out for her?” He sighed. “I keep reminding myself to take care of those things I can affect and not dwell on things I can’t, but sometimes that’s hard.” He dropped his head and closed his eyes.

  Claire stood and placed a comforting arm around his good shoulder while holding Timmy in her free arm. “You’ll be with Amélie again,” she whispered, “and things will get better. You’ll see.” Why couldn’t Crockatt let them be together for even a short while?

  Jeremy re-composed himself. “So, Paul is the missing one now.”

  “He’s not missing in an official sense,” Claire corrected. “I don’t know where Paul is or what he’s doing, but he’s on something highly classified. That’s all I know. He did say that he would be safer than all of us.”

  “Hmm. That’s a remarkably vague comment. I wonder where he is.”

  The nurse reappeared with 609 Squadron Leader Darley. “You may visit only for a few minutes,” she fussed in her high-pitched voice, “then it will be time to take him to his room. He needs his rest.”

  After the nurse left, Jeremy muttered to Darley, “You’ve got to get me out of this place, soon.”

  Claire overheard him. “She means well,” she chided. “The doctor said that as soon as he sees the wound healed sufficiently with no infection, we can take you. Maybe tomorrow?”

  “It’s good to see you awake,” Darley cut in. “You were a mess when I saw you two days ago.”

  “Thanks for coming, sir. You needn’t have bothered.”

  “Rubbish. I didn’t come to see you anyway.” He leaned over and picked up Timmy, who relished the attention. “I’ve heard so much about this marvelous child, I couldn’t pass up the chance to see him.” He chuckled and pressed a curled fist against the boy’s chest. Timmy yelped with glee.

  “I also wanted to congratulate you on becoming an ace,” Darley said. “That’s a tremendous achievement.”

  “Thanks. Just get me out of here.”

  They talked a while longer, and then the nurse returned. “This is a ten-minute warning,” she said, “and then it’s back to bed for him.” She tossed a remonstrative glance at Jeremy and once more left them.

  He shook his head as his eyes followed her retreating figure. Then his jaw dropped, his eyes widened, and tears ran freely down his face. He wiped them away with both hands, ignoring the pain in his shoulder, and struggled to stand.

  Claire followed his view. At the door across the room, an orderly stood pointing. Two figures stood with him. Major Crockatt and Amélie.

  She searched over the patients. Then, her eyes locked with Jeremy’s, and she flew to him. He wrapped his good arm around her and buried his face in the auburn hair falling about her shoulders.

  Crockatt greeted Claire and stood next to the squadron leader, introducing himself and observing the reunion while attempting to remain unobtrusive. Claire stood aside, entertaining Timmy as she too watched quietly.

  “So that’s the girl who saved him at Dunkirk?” Darley said in a low voice.

  “And very brave she is too.” Crockatt turned to face Darley. “You know our arrangement is that we get Littlefield back when the Battle of Britain is finished.”

  “So I’ve been told,” Darley said, injecting a hard tone. “Are you saying it’s over? London’s being bombed every night.”

  “People are calling Hitler’s new action ‘the blitz.’ His nighttime bombings have been fairly unimpeded. I’m not being critical. I’m just stating a fact.”

  “Oh, I dunno,” Darley said good-naturedly. “Fighter Command will work out a way to fight back in the dark. But I’d say you’re making my point that the Battle of Brita
in goes on until Germany is defeated. That’s when our country will be safe again. Hitler is a vengeful man.”

  “The fight to destroy the RAF seems at an end. I call that the Battle of Britain. We won. I need Littlefield back.”

  “So do I.”

  Both men chuckled. “How about if we let the historians label the time periods?” Crockatt said. “They’re well equipped to confuse anybody. We can sort out our own issues later.”

  “That’s reasonable,” Darley replied. “For now.” He laughed.

  “How much time would you normally allow for Littlefield to recover?” Crockatt asked.

  “We’ll go with what the doctor says, but I’d say at least a month.”

  “That sounds good.” Crockatt tilted his head toward Amélie. “We were taking her to get on the plane for France when we got word that Littlefield was here. If she likes—”

  “On a plane?” Darley said incredulously. “Do you just swoop down and let her out?”

  “That method is still in planning. She’ll jump.”

  Darley stared at the small French girl looking adoringly into Jeremy’s eyes. “That small thing is going to parachute into France?”

  “At night,” Crockatt replied. “That small thing, as you call her, can take a big man down with her bare hands.” While Darley regarded Amélie in a new light, Crockatt continued. “I was going to say that if she likes, we could hold her over for another month.”

  Darley chuckled. “I think she’ll like.”

  Claire had been standing close by, listening. “Oh, thank you,” she cried, hugging each of the men in turn. “She can stay at my house too.”

  Both officers raised their eyebrows and glanced at each other.

  Claire’s face colored slightly. “The room is separate, and we have a nanny. They’ll be well chaperoned.”

  Darley laughed. “There’s a war on,” he said. “Those two have given so much and neither knows how long they’ll be alive. I say let them live.”

  Claire regarded him in surprise. “My sentiments exactly.”

  At that moment the nurse returned. She wore an expression that plainly said her patience was wearing thin. “More visitors?” she demanded. She glared at Amélie still wrapped in Jeremy’s embrace. “Is she family?”

  Jeremy interrupted a mesmerized gaze on Amélie’s face to turn to the nurse. “She certainly is,” he said, “and I dare anyone to say otherwise.”

  Epilogue

  October 18, 1940

  Stony Stratton, UK

  “Has it been a month?” Jeremy grumbled to Amélie. “Can’t you stay? I’ll go get Chantal and bring her back here.”

  Amélie smiled. “Can’t you do something less dangerous than fly fighters?” She rested her head on his chest. “Until this war is over, we’ll have to do many awful things whether we’re at the front or not, and I can’t stop fighting any less than you can.”

  “You must know that I want to marry you.”

  Amélie sat quietly, but tears started running down her cheeks. “I wouldn’t do that to you,” she murmured, struggling for composure. “I have to be with Chantal.” She glanced across the living room at Timmy playing on the floor. “He needs to see you once in a while too. We’re going to be apart more than we’ll see each other until this war is over, and that’s no way to start a marriage. Besides, I couldn’t do it without my father’s permission, and I’d like him to be at the wedding.”

  Jeremy laughed gently. “So you do want to marry me?”

  Amélie sat up and slapped his shoulder playfully. “You know I do.”

  Jeremy sighed, and his expression turned glum. “What time is Major Crockatt’s car coming for you?”

  “At three o’clock.”

  At that moment, Claire burst through the front door with an expression that was both excited and concerned. She glanced at Jeremy and Amélie intertwined on the sofa. “Sorry,” she said, amused. “Jeremy, I just received a Red Cross message from Mum and Dad. It’s one of those notes with a twenty-eight-word limit. They’ve heard from Lance.” She handed it to him.

  Jeremy took it eagerly. “Then he’s still alive. Thank goodness for the Red Cross. Where is he? How is he?” He took the wrinkled yellow paper from Claire and recognized their mother’s handwriting. The note read:

  Our dear children. Miss you terribly. Conditions unchanged. Ersatz tea starts out stale. Blackberries no help. Lance assigned in Colditz. Never heard of it. Love, Mum and Dad

  Jeremy looked up at Claire, a concerned look on his face. Then he scrutinized the message again. “Ersatz tea?” He scoffed. “The Germans must be taking their food.” He sat quietly in dismay. “Is there nothing we can do to help them?” He shook his head in frustration and looked at Claire with a ferocity she had never seen in him before. “I could begin hating the Germans.”

  “I know,” Claire said, dabbing tears from her eyes. “I said almost the same thing to Paul a month ago when we came to the same conclusion.” She squeezed his hand. “Just keep remembering that the German government is not the German people, just like the French government is not the French people.” As she spoke, she cast a glance at Amélie, and continued. “Keep remembering the respect that pilot paid to you when you parachuted down, and the mercy shown to you by the two Messerschmitt pilots when you crash-landed. Good Germans still live in this world.”

  Jeremy’s throat tightened and he gripped his fists, but he nodded.

  Next to them, Amélie sat quietly, listening.

  “Where is Colditz?” Jeremy asked angrily.

  Claire’s mouth had set in a firm line. “I looked it up in an atlas. It’s about eighty miles west of Dresden.”

  “Deep inside Germany,” Jeremy muttered. “Difficult to escape from there.”

  Claire stared at him. Very difficult. She had decoded messages over the past weeks in which Colditz had been mentioned, and she had gleaned that it was a castle where a special prison had been established to house and control POWs who had made multiple escape attempts.

  She tried hard to see a silver lining under the dark cloud. Lance is alive, mentally and physically well, and tenacious enough to try to escape. That’s our Lance. She sighed. I hope he doesn’t do anything foolish that will get him killed.

  Jeremy had not seen her restrained reaction. “He was missing for a long time. Now that we know where he is, we should ask the US government for help. They’re the protecting power. Maybe Crockatt can help with that.”

  For Jeremy, the pain of parting with Amélie yet again subdued the news about Lance. Claire took Timmy out to play, leaving them to spend their remaining minutes together.

  “I love you,” Jeremy said.

  “I’m not going to cry this time,” Amélie said. “I’d tell you that I can’t wait to see you in France again, but when you come, it will be for a life-threatening mission. I like to think that you are in a safe place—" She closed her eyes and sniffed. “Even though I know what you do.” She hugged his neck. “I’m so proud of you. I love you.”

  “Get Chantal and come back here,” Jeremy whispered.

  “You know I can’t.” She pulled back to gaze into his eyes, and then chuckled. “I love your sister. She stays optimistic, no matter what. She keeps telling me, ‘You and Jeremy will be together. You’ll see.’”

  “That’s Claire. Never say die. Stiff upper lip.”

  They heard the crunch of tires on the driveway, then a government sedan appeared. When it parked, Jeremy saw Major Crockatt’s driver start to get out. He crossed to the door, opened it, and called out, “She’ll be there in a moment.”

  When he turned back around, Amélie stood looking up at him. He wrapped his arms around her, and they kissed passionately. “I love you,” he said. “I always will.”

  Then, as they walked together to the car carrying her things, he said, “Don’t forget to tell Horton we know where Lance is. Colditz.”

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  TURNING THE STORM

  Book #3 in the After Dunkirk series

  As World War II reaches a tipping point, one heroic family is determined to help turn the tide.

  Feeling the mantle of duty lying heavily on their shoulders, the Littlefields are pushed to their limits in the much-anticipated third installment in the AFTER DUNKIRK series.

  The Blitz is in full force.

  Bombs rip relentlessly through London, destroying buildings and rattling confidence.

  How much more can the country—and one family—take?

  As Britain falls further into chaos, the Littlefields—ever-dedicated—must keep fighting. Their country needs them now, more than ever, and each sibling will be tested in ways they never imagined.

  Jeremy prepares to fly a mission without his trusted Eagles. But the sudden capture of someone he loves will force him to choose between fulfilling his duty and following his heart.

  Still held as a POW at a high-security facility, Lance grows more and more desperate to make an escape.

  And thousands of miles apart, Claire and Paul—both armed with top-secret war intelligence—experience a similar struggle: They know more than they can say. And that knowledge places their siblings in grave danger.

  Meanwhile, at home and under German occupation on Sark Island, the Littlefield's parents struggle as food becomes scarce and the fire in their bellies is joined by a gnawing hunger.