"Erin," Harry shouted in the direction of the well, "it's too late for us to go to the airfield. Let's watch from here for a minute. Maybe we'll be able to see the Spits land in the lights. Then we need to go home before we get in trouble."
Stuart nodded his head, agreeing with Harry. He knew a couple more minutes wouldn't matter. But, Harry was right. After that, they should all be getting home or else there would be a price to pay with their mothers for staying out too late.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
POWER FAILURE
Inside Hampton Airfield's control tower, Colonel Harrison anxiously watched the runway waiting for the Spitfires to land. Harrison lifted a pair of binoculars to his eyes and listened to the corporal minding the three minute clock count down the time. Searching for the pair of incoming planes, he struggled with the field glasses. Unable to focus clearly on the night sky, he pulled them away from his eyes. Instantly, Harrison noticed the room was dark. Peering through the blackness, he realized that the field was dark, too.
"Power failure!" someone shouted.
Although Colonel Harrison could hear people shuffling about, he couldn't see a thing. Then, the sound of quick footsteps preceded the crack of the control room door flying open on its hinges.
"Colonel, we can hear the planes coming in for a landing," announced a winded mechanic standing in the dark doorway. "But the power is out across the entire base!"
Groping through the dark, trying to find his way out of the room, Colonel Harrison shouted, "I'm going to the airfield!"
Meanwhile, descending through the black sky, the two desperate Spitfires started their final approach. But the weary pilots couldn't believe their eyes when, unexpectedly, the line of lights marking the runway vanished.
"What the devil happened down there?" shouted a bewildered Lieutenant Gainey. "Where are the lights?"
"Pull up, Brian!" Captain Simms ordered into his radio. "We've got to pull up!"
Breaking off their approach, the two pilots increased throttle and pulled back on their controls. Caught in the midst of landing, but unable to see in the darkness, both planes were dangerously low. The powerful roar of engines thundered in the darkness as the Spitfires passed over Hampton Airfield and climbed back into the night sky.
Captain Simms keyed his radio, calling to Gainey, "Well, at least we have a good idea where we are, lad. Let's circle around while they sort things out down there."
"Hopefully they'll sort it out sooner rather than later," Gainey replied.
Standing in front of the wool shed, Harry and Stuart watched the airfield. Waiting for the Spitfires to land, they were stunned when the brilliant lights marking the airstrip suddenly faded away. And still, the Spitfire engines roared above. The boys couldn't understand what was happening.
"Did you see that?" Erin asked, waving the small flashlight from further down the dark path by the well. "Why did they turn the lights off if the Spits are still in the air? Something's wrong, I'm telling you. Let's get down there!"
Harry looked at Stuart and agreed. "She's right. There must be something wrong."
"Come on, Harry!" Stuart replied. "Let's find out what's going on."
Throwing open the gate to the sheep pen, Stuart bolted out and raced ahead to join Erin. Blindly dashing through the dark, Harry followed his friends on a wild sprint to the airfield.
A woolly lamb started chomping grass...at the open gate post.
Indifferent to the bustling children, back in the pen a woolly lamb started chomping at the grass growing around the open gate post.
Somewhere in the darkness above, the two Spitfires continued to circle. Unsure of what to do next, Captain Simms radioed Gainey, "Brian, give me a read on your fuel gauge."
"Without a light it's hard to tell, but I think I've been on zero for sometime now," Gainey replied. "Soon, I might not have a choice. I'd rather land blind down there than drop like a rock when my fuel runs out."
Captain Simms was at a loss for words. Before he could think of something to say, Gainey anxiously radioed again.
"Can you reach the tower by radio yet?"
"No," Simms replied, "I just get static. If both the lights and the radio are out, chances are there's a power failure somewhere."
"Andy," Gainey called in a resigned voice, "my engine is starting to sputter. There's no choice now. I have to set down."
Captain Simms tried desperately to think of a less risky alternative, but couldn't find one. His fellow pilot and friend was losing altitude. Gainey needed his assistance to stand any chance of finding the runway in the dark. Without hesitation, Simms was ready to stand by his friend and do everything he could to help.
"I'm with you, Lieutenant," Simms radioed to Gainey in a firm tone. "Let's try to line up as best we can and set down now."
Captain Simms corrected his circular path in order to try another approach. He and Gainey leveled out, and aligned their Spitfires to what Simms thought was the runway below. Starving for fuel, Gainey's plane was going to land, one way or another.
CHAPTER TWELVE
HARRY HAS THE ANSWER
Harry, Stuart and Erin stood at the hedgerow fence separating Hampton Airfield from the Winslow farm. Hidden in the dark, the children listened to both the wayward Spitfires circling in the air and the flurry of activity on the ground. All across the airfield, Harry heard men shouting to each other, trying to determine a course of action.
Then, Colonel Harrison's commanding voice echoed through the darkness, calling the others to join him on the hardstand. Crowded together, the commander demanded suggestions on how to bring the RAF fighter planes in safely.
"Simms and Gainey are going to run out of fuel and crash if we don't do something immediately," Harrison told the others gathered on the dark runway.
Still eavesdropping at the hedgerow fence, Harry felt a tug. It was Erin. Frightened by the Colonel's remarks, she clutched Harry's arm. Tightening her grip, the small flashlight she carried shifted in her hand, shining into Harry's eyes.
"If only a flashlight were enough to light the entire field," Harry mumbled to himself.
While Harrison and the others loudly debated how to land the Spitfires, Harry tried to listen. But the engine of an approaching fire truck, preparing for the worst, droned over their conversation.
As the truck turned, the sweeping headlights glared on the men and women standing at the edge of the field. In the light, Harry recognized Colonel Harrison, the radar operator, several of the flight controllers, and even his sister, Susan, huddled on the hardstand.
The scene on the airfield reminded Harry of the fuel truck head lights shining on Simms and Gainey earlier, when the two pilots were first preparing for their flight.
Harry watched as the headlights from the fire truck illuminated the entire hardstand, the same as before.
Erin's grip on Harry's arm tightened even more, and once again the flashlight in her hand flickered in his eyes.
"That's it!" Harry shouted. "Truck headlights!"
"What do you mean?" Erin asked.
"Headlights!" Harry repeated. "They could use a bunch of truck headlights to light the runway!"
"That's a great idea, Harry," Stuart replied. "Let's go out there and tell them."
Harry hesitated, realizing his sister, Susan, stood on the hardstand. "But if we go out there, Susan will tell mother we were at the airfield tonight, instead of on our way home."
Immediately, Erin started to scold Harry. "You wouldn't let getting in trouble with your mother stop you from helping the pilots, would you?"
"She's right, Harry," Stuart urged. "Regardless of your mother, you have to tell them about the headlights. We'll go with you, if it makes you feel better."
Above them, a choking Spitfire engine made a popping sound. Before wasting another moment, Harry and his friends jumped over the hedge and ran to the hardstand, yelling.
"Headlights, Colonel. Use truck headlights!"
Colonel Harrison and the others were startled
by the three screaming children rushing from the darkness to join them. Alarmed to see her younger brother and his friends, Susan grabbed Harry and Stuart by their arms and tried to herd the children away.
"Harry," Susan snapped, "you children are supposed to be home in bed. We've got a real problem here, with no time for play."
"But, Sis, we can help!" Harry shouted. "Everyone, listen to me. Use the headlights of the trucks to light the field!"
"Yes," Stuart and Erin shouted in support, "headlights will do it."
Susan continued pushing the children away from the hardstand. Again, Harry pleaded for the Colonel to listen.
"Headlights, Colonel," the Winslow boy hurriedly explained. "Use truck headlights to line the runway for the Spitfire pilots."
"Susan, stop!" Colonel Harrison shouted. "Harry's got the answer. We'll line the strip with headlights. It's the best solution, by far."
Harrison yelled his orders for everyone to hear. "I want every truck and car we have out on the airfield with its headlights directed to form a runway. And I want them out there now!"
At Colonel Harrison's command, everyone scrambled to bring as many vehicles to the field as possible. Recruiting more drivers as they went, the base swarmed with trucks, cars, tractors, and even motorcycles heading out to the landing area. In an instant, Harry's simple plan went into action.
Unaware of the steadfast efforts happening on the ground, the RAF pilots in the air continued their blind approach. Both Simms and Gainey braced for a dangerous forced landing. The failing condition of Gainey's Spitfire had left them no choice.
Inside his cockpit, Gainey struggled to concentrate. Gasoline pooled around his feet. His eyes watered and his head pounded from breathing the fumes. Frantically glancing from side to side, Gainey continued his desperate search for a familiar landmark.
Descending through the black night, Gainey gasped when a group of lights suddenly traced paths on the dark stretch ahead of him. Miraculously, the odd dance of lights on the field below combined to form a makeshift runway.
Quickly locating the lights, Captain Simms realized they were far short of the landing strip. Simms urgently called a warning to Gainey.
"We're short, Brian! We're short of the runway, give her power and climb."
Simms slammed his throttle open and pulled back on the stick. Gainey, too, recognized their approach was tragically wrong. The Lieutenant tried to gain altitude by pulling on his controls. But when he shoved the throttle to his engine forward, instead of hearing the familiar roar of more power, Gainey's engine sputtered.
His fuel spent, Lieutenant Gainey was committed to landing. Struggling to control his dying Spitfire, he aimed for the safety of the lights, but winced when he heard tree branches scrape across the belly of his plane. Realizing he just cleared the line of trees at the far end of the airfield, Gainey quickly flipped the switch to lower his landing gear. The wheels of the Spitfire reached for the ground, and locked into place. While the engine coughed and popped, the tires pounded on the turf with a tremendous thud.
Truck headlights glared through the glass of Gainey's canopy as his plane rolled along the inventively illuminated runway. His engine, starved for fuel, seized, and the propeller stopped before the young Lieutenant could turn his plane around at the end of the makeshift landing strip.
Choking from the smell of gasoline, Gainey rolled back the canopy and gulped for fresh air. From the seat of his Spitfire, he waved to the flock of flight mechanics already crowding around the plane. A moment later, one of the crewmen helped the dizzy pilot out of the cockpit, and handed him a broken tree branch.
"This was caught in your tail wheel, Lieutenant!" the crewman exclaimed.
Gainey grabbed the stick and replied with a broad smile, "I'll keep it for good luck!"
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
SAFELY ON THE GROUND
With Lieutenant Gainey safely on the ground, Captain Simms prepared to land. The experienced veteran guided his Spitfire on a graceful approach to the runway, still illuminated by truck headlights. Softly touching down, he taxied his black painted Spitfire to the hardstand. With one last push of the rudder, Simms turned his plane facing the field, ready for the next mission.
Releasing the straps to his seat, Simms watched the vehicles that had so precisely outlined the runway, disassemble and drive away. The brilliant landing lane vanished as quickly as it appeared. Once the last truck passed behind the maintenance hangers, darkness embraced the airfield once again.
Captain Simms climbed down from his cockpit, and received a comfortable pat on the back from his flight mechanic. Relieved to be on the ground again, the exhausted pilot smiled at his crew chief. While pulling at the strap to remove his headgear, Simms started looking about. The crewman couldn't help but notice the distracted captain.
"If you're looking for Lieutenant Gainey, he's over there, trying to get the petrol out of his boots," the mechanic said, pointing toward the shadowy Operations Building.
Simms dashed across the hardstand to check on his friend. There was Gainey, leaning against the brick building, shaking aviation fuel out of his boots and into the grass. Looking up at Simms, the young lieutenant smiled with his characteristic broad grin. The older pilot congratulated Gainey with a solid pat on the back for his victorious landing. At once, Colonel Harrison and Susan Winslow along with Harry, Stuart and Erin joined the two pilots.
"Good show, gentlemen!" Colonel Harrison congratulated them. "But what happened to you up there?"
Captain Simms started to explain in his customary, unflappable manner, "We got ourselves into a scrap with three night raiders over the Channel. In the fight, we were able to down two, but Brian's Spitfire ended up getting hit a couple too many times. After that, I thought it best we come home."
"Colonel," Lieutenant Gainey confessed, "we would've bagged all three if I hadn't cut in on the Captain."
Colonel Harrison looked at his flight officers. "Gentleman," he proclaimed, "I would rather have two skilled pilots ready to fly tomorrow, than one more enemy plane swimming in the Channel tonight."
Warmed by the Colonel's compliment, Simms and Gainey smiled at each other modestly.
Then, Captain Simms asked, "Well, enough about what happened up there. What happened down here?"
"Just a bit of bad luck," Harrison replied. "A power failure killed the lights and radio right when you tried to land. If it weren't for young Harry and his friends, Lieutenant, you might have ended up hanging from those trees back there. Or, perhaps, something even worse."
Gainey and Simms quietly stared at Harry, Stuart and Erin, unsure of what to say. Finally Simms reached over to rumple Harry's thick brown hair. He thanked the children for being there when the pilots needed them.
"It's good to know you three are taking care of things around here."
"Too bad they can't do the same at home!" Mrs. Winslow's angry voice chopped through the cool night air. Holding a small lamp, Harry's mother stood just a few feet away. The frown on her face, barely visible in the dim light, was enough to tell Harry he was in deep trouble.
"You children should have been home almost an hour ago. I was worried sick and came looking for you."
Susan stepped forward. Gently taking Stuart and Erin by their hands, she whispered, "Perhaps I'd better take you two home now."
While Susan shepherded Stuart and Erin, Harry rushed to try and explain to his mother.
"I'm sorry about being late, but we saw the lights on the airfield... and then there was an emergency, and then...."
Mrs. Winslow cut him off with a disappointed voice, "Harry, you promised me you would have everything ready at the wool shed."
"But, Mom, everything is ready," Harry replied.
Putting her hands on her hips, Mrs. Winslow demanded, "Then why aren't the sheep in the pen? I tripped over a lamb on my way to find you."
Harry's heart sank when he realized in their haste to get to the airfield, he and Stuart must have forgotten to close the ga
te to the sheep pen. Since then, the entire flock had wandered out through the opening, back to the fields. Regardless of how hard Harry, Stuart and Erin had worked to get things prepared, the sheep wouldn't be ready for fleecing in the morning. Worse yet, he had failed his mother when she needed him. Harry felt miserable.
"I think it's time we went home, Harry." Mrs. Winslow firmly suggested.
Before leaving with his mother, a dejected Harry quickly handed Lieutenant Gainey the lost flashlight he and the other children had spent the day recovering from the fields.
"Here, Lieutenant," Harry said. "We found your flashlight for you."
Colonel Harrison, Captain Simms and Lieutenant Gainey quietly eyed each other as Mrs. Winslow took Harry across the dark field and headed for home.
"Oh well, too bad there's nothing we can do," Gainey mumbled to the others, quite unconcerned.
Disappointed in Lieutenant Gainey's lack of compassion for Harry's predicament, Colonel Harrison snapped, "That's the most idiotic thing I've heard. The lad's risked an awful lot for you. Where's your loyalty?"
Gainey had nothing to say in his defense. He simply stared at the Colonel.
"I worry there's no hope for you, Lieutenant," Harrison sighed. "By the way, when is the last time you bathed? You smell like a garage."
Gainey grew red faced, dumbfounded by the Colonel's scolding. In a fatherly voice, Captain Simms tried to explain.
"Perhaps you should take a minute and change out of that petrol soaked flight suit. While you're cleaning up, look in the mirror and ask yourself what you would have done if it was Hyatt up there instead. Do you think you would have been as clever as Harry?"
Then Colonel Harrison motioned for Captain Simms to follow him. The two officers marched off to the Operations Building to discuss the details of the night patrol. Alone in the dark, Lieutenant Gainey sniffed at his gasoline smelling flight suit and felt a bit embarrassed. But when he thought about Harry, and what Colonel Harrison and Captain Simms had said, he felt ashamed.
Night Mission Page 4