Beneath Gray Skies

by Hugh Ashton

  “For God’s sake, young man, jump!” urged Captain Eckener.

  He seemed like a decent enough guy, thought David, and he wanted to get out, but there was no way he could go through with it. “No, sir,” he replied. “You go out. I’ll take my chances.”

  “You damned fool,” growled Eckener. “My orders from the ground were to save you, and I would remind you, Sergeant, that it’s my right, as Captain, to go down with the ship, if anyone does.” There were tears in his eyes, David noticed with surprise. Eckener reminded David once again how to jump. “Just cross your arms in front of you like this, holding the ripcord handle in your right hand, step out of the door, count to three and pull the cord. Bend your knees and roll over when you land.”

  “Yes, sir, I understand, but I just can’t do it,” wailed David.

  “Oh, grow up, man,” snapped Eckener. “Where’s that famous Southern courage?” he taunted.

  Stung, David moved towards the open doorway. “Good man,” encouraged the Captain. Just then, from aft came a “whoof.” Eckener glanced aft.

  “My God!” he exclaimed. David’s eyes followed his pointing finger. About midway along the airship’s hull, flames had started to lick out of a hole in the side.

  “I am sorry about this, Sergeant,” said Eckener. “I hope you will find the courage to follow me. If you don’t, please remember in your last moments that I tried to save your life. You now probably have less than a minute, if that, to make up your mind.” He stepped forward, saluted David formally, and crossed his arms in front of him in the way he’d demonstrated earlier. Then he was gone.

  At that precise moment, Hermann Goering clattered down the ladder from the keel catwalk. He was followed, David was surprised to see, by President Davis.

  “What the devil are you doing here?” asked Goering. Without waiting for an answer, he moved to the helmsman’s position in the control car.

  “We must get down, Mr. Goering,” called Davis plaintively. “Do something!” Goering started spinning the elevator wheel, and the dirigible, with almost no way on her, responded sluggishly. The bow pointed downward a few more degrees. Davis looked at David and noticed his parachute. “Where did you get that?” he snapped.

  “Captain Eckener gave it to me, sir,” replied David.

  “Then give it to me,” said Davis. “As your President, I order you.” David saw the angry face moving towards him, and was repelled by the hate in it. He was suddenly reminded of something by Davis’s red-rimmed greedy little eyes, and he started to laugh hysterically.

  “What’s so goddamn funny?” growled Davis, taking a step closer. Behind him, Goering yanked at a lever on the control panel, and Bismarck lurched. David, already moving back from the approaching Davis, put out a hand to steady himself and missed.

  -o-

  Suddenly he was in mid-air, falling away from Bismarck. The air caught at his arms as he struggled to assume the position that Eckener had demonstrated and catch hold of the ripcord handle. Onetwothree, he counted quickly to himself, and pulled the handle. He slowed, and then seemed to stop in mid-air as the parachute opened with a jerk. He looked down. The ground seemed very close, but at least he wasn’t rushing at high speed towards it.

  Another “whoof” from above made him look up to the burning dirigible. Another two sections had ignited on either side of the original fire. Bismarck’s skeleton showed clearly, silhouetted against the inferno within the hull. Flames were shooting upwards to an incredible height, and were nearing the passenger car. Incredibly, David thought he could hear high-pitched screaming from the trapped Nazis and Confederates. He listened harder, and realized it was the wind whistling through his parachute shrouds.

  As he watched Bismarck, she gave a massive roll to port. The flames must be hundreds of feet high now, he thought. Suddenly, there was a mighty metallic cracking sound, like a giant stamping on thousands of tin cans, and the back of the airship broke, with the bow and stern pointing upwards. As David watched, horrified, black specks fell from the passenger compartment. He could just make out arms and legs as they fell, spinning, hundreds of feet to the ground.

  Suddenly David became aware of the ground beneath him terrifyingly close and rushing up to meet him. He bent his knees, and waited for the impact. Not too bad, he thought. He’d had harder landings jumping off walls as a kid. Now he was trapped in his parachute harness as the wind picked up and started to pull him and the parachute across the ground. He fumbled with the straps, and suddenly the shoulder buckles came undone. He stepped out of the leg straps and he was free.

  Looking around, he realized he was about half a mile from the shed, where he expected Colonel Vickers and Major Weisstal to be stationed, but the burning mass of Bismarck slowly falling to the ground a few hundred yards away claimed his whole attention. As he watched, the great white-hot mass of metal, with only a single pair of gasbags intact at the bow and another pair at the stern, sank to the earth, with a crashing and grinding noise like nothing David had ever heard before, audible even over the roar of the flames. The heat from the fire, even at this distance, was intense, and he had to stagger back, away from the crash, shielding his face with his hands.

  “Oh my God,” was all David could repeat, over and over again like a prayer, as he watched the flames and the skeleton. Apart from the sound of the burning wreckage, David could hear nothing for about twenty seconds. Then he heard, from the direction of the shed, a long hollow moan, seeming to issue simultaneously from hundreds of throats, followed by the sound of automobile engines starting, and fire sirens wailing. Bells clanged as the fire trucks moved into position round the wreck.

  A few jets of water sprayed from the fire trucks onto the remains of the passenger car, but it was like spitting into the ocean, David thought.

  He moved, circling round the wreck, towards the shed, keeping his eye on the scene of the crash, so when he tripped over, it took him completely by surprise. He looked back to see what had caused his fall, and to his disgust, he saw he had stumbled over a dead body, spread-eagled and face up, embedded in the soft ground. The arms and legs were at angles he had never seen human limbs before, and the head, when he forced himself to look, seemed almost to have been stuck on the body as an afterthought, it looked so disjointed. David retched as he recognized the face as that of the kindly aide to General Harrison who had lent him his binoculars only a few hours earlier.

  There was nothing he could do for the man, he thought, and moved on, watching for further victims, and guiding his steps carefully to avoid them.

  -o-

  As he neared the shed, he saw Major Weisstal at the head of a detachment of Germans, with stretchers and first-aid kits, moving toward the crash site. Major Weisstal was too busy to notice him, so David walked on.

  The crowd was chaotic. No-one seemed to be in charge, except the military firemen, who were directing the crowd away from the crash site. On one side, David saw Captain Eckener and his crew members together, guarded by a ring of Confederate military police under the command of Colonel Vickers. David made his way towards them, and was spotted by Captain Eckener himself, who snapped a crisp military salute in his direction, which David returned. Colonel Vickers saw Eckener’s gesture and turned to discover what was going on. To David’s relief, he smiled when he saw David.

  “Sergeant, I am truly glad to see you here,” he said. “Captain Eckener described what had happened and I am glad you found the guts to jump in the end.”

  “Sir,” asked David. “I can guess a little of what’s been going on, but why are Captain Eckener and his crew under arrest?”

  “It’s for their own protection, Sergeant,” said Vickers. “If the crowd ever came to suspect what had happened on board that airship, they’d lynch them all. My men have orders to shoot to kill if anyone tries to touch them.” David felt a bit better about things. “Major LeHay,” Vickers called out. “Take charge here for now. No-one is to approach the airship except for the firefighters and the medical personnel
, who are only to attempt to retrieve the bodies. Nothing else is to be taken from the wreck. No souvenir hunting. No looting. Any offenders to be arrested on the spot. Shoot to kill if there is any resistance. Divide your men into watches and make sure the wreck is guarded at all times, until I give orders to the contrary. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Perfectly clear,” replied LeHay, saluting.

  “Follow me, Sergeant,” ordered Vickers, striding off towards the main barracks building, with David in his wake.

  “What’s going on, sir?” asked David.

  “Just shut up and follow me, Sergeant,” snapped Vickers. He seemed to be somewhat nervous, thought David. And so he should be, given what had just happened. After all, he was meant to be in charge of security, and President Davis had probably just died. Not to mention all those Germans.

  They reached the barracks, and Vickers unlocked the door of his office, and entered, leaving David standing outside the door. “Can you handle one of these?” he asked David, reaching behind his desk and bringing out one of the German machine-pistols and two magazines.

  “Yes, sir. I’ve fired one on the range once,” replied David.

  “Good. I have to telephone some people in Richmond. Get yourself outside the door and don’t let anyone in, and I really do mean anyone. Shoot them if you have to. I’m not joking,” he added, seeing the look on David’s face.

  Feeling important and more than a little scared, David took the gun from Colonel Vickers, and automatically checked the safety and bolt. Vickers watched with approval. “Glad you look as though you know what you’re up to there, Sergeant.” He went back into the office and closed the door.

  After about ten minutes, David heard the distinctive sound of Army boot heels coming down the corridor towards him. Two or three people, he reckoned.

  The sound grew louder, and the wearers of the boots came round the corner. At the head of the group of three men in Army uniform, he recognized the aide to General Harrison who’d given up his place on the Bismarck to David.

  The captain recognized David with a start. “I thought you were on the airship,” he said to David, obviously astounded by the sight.

  “Yes, sir. I was, sir,” replied David.

  Puzzlement crossed the officer’s face as he tried to work out for himself how David could have escaped the fiery wreck. “Is Colonel Vickers in there?” he asked at length, pointing to the office door.

  “Yes, sir, he is,” replied David.

  The captain moved towards the office door, but checked himself as he noticed the muzzle of David’s machine-pistol pointing in his direction.

  “The Colonel’s orders, sir, were that he wasn’t to be disturbed, and that no-one was to enter the office. Sir.”

  “I don’t think that applies to me,” said the captain, smiling. He made another move towards the door, but David’s machine-pistol never wavered.

  “Sergeant,” said the captain, “I am starting to get seriously angry. I am ordering you to let me in to see Colonel Vickers.”

  “No-one is to see Colonel Vickers, sir,” replied David. There was a tremor in his voice.

  “In which case, Sergeant,” replied the captain, “I am sorry for you, but you leave me little alternative.” He motioned to the two soldiers behind him, who moved forward, unslinging their carbines. The machine-pistol held steady.

  “Sir,” repeated David. “I have my orders.”

  “For the last time, Sergeant. Don’t be so goddamned dumb.” The two soldiers took another step towards David.

  Without his being quite aware what was happening, David’s eyes closed, and his finger tightened on the trigger of the machine-pistol, which fired three quick rounds into the captain’s body before David, horrified, relaxed the pressure and opened his eyes. The two soldiers stopped in their tracks. One dropped his carbine to the floor with a clatter, and the other relaxed his grip on the stock of his, letting it swing by the sling.

  “You shot an officer,” said one of them, round-eyed in a voice of horror. “You’re not going to shoot us, are you?”

  “Not if you get out of here fast,” replied David, hoping he sounded braver than he felt. There were horrible gurgling noises coming from the floor where the captain was lying. He didn’t want to look, so he kept his gaze firmly on the faces of the other two, who were now backing away. He motioned with the machine-pistol. “Get out of here!” he shouted. The other carbine fell to the floor as the two took to their heels.

  The gurgling noises grew fainter and then stopped. Still David didn’t dare to look down, but continued to stare at the corner around which he expected a squad of military police to come running at any moment.

  He didn’t know how long he had been standing like that when the door behind him opened, and Colonel Vickers coughed.

  “Sir?” said David, snapping out of his trance, and coming to attention.

  “At ease, sergeant. I heard the shots. I suppose you had no choice,” said Vickers, calmly. He bent down and examined the body. “He’s not dead, you know. I reckon he’ll live. I’m glad of that. Richardson’s a good man and we’ll need him in the future. Can you run to Major LeHay and get him to send a stretcher party here? Don’t bother explaining anything. Just say it’s my orders. And come straight back here yourself.”

  “Sir.”

  “Wait!” as David started off. “Give me that thing,” taking the machine-pistol from him. There’s no way I’m going to have you running round the place with that in your hands.”

  David delivered his message and came back as ordered. He had another shock waiting for him.

  “Ever been in an airplane?” asked Vickers.

  “No, sir,” answered David, a little puzzled.

  “Well, you’re going to be flying in one in a few minutes,” said Vickers. “I’m going to Richmond, and I want you with me. Here, take this,” giving the machine-pistol back to David. “I don’t know what your official title should be, but you are now hereby under my orders and mine alone, personally. Understand? If it makes you any happier, I’ll promote you and give you a fancy title. But for now, your job is to shut up and do what I say. Understood?”

  “Yes, sir,” said David. The excitement of flying in an airship and an airplane on the same day almost overcame his terror of what was going on around him.

  They waited, and after a few minutes, the sound of an approaching aircraft engine could be heard. David was no expert at interpreting airplane noises, but it sounded to him as though it was landing. About a minute after he judged it had landed, he could see it through the window of Major Vickers’s office, taxiing towards the building.

  “That’s for us,” said Major Vickers, pointing to the small biplane. “We’re going through the window. Pass me those files on the desk when I’m outside.” He opened the window and jumped athletically to the ground outside. “Now the files.” David passed them. “Bring the gun and magazines with you.”

  “Yes, sir,” said David, joining Vickers.

  “And now we go to Richmond, Sergeant,” said Vickers. “Exciting, isn’t it?” he smiled.

  Chapter 45: Richmond, Virginia, Confederate States of America

  “A new government is going to make life better for us all.”

  Interim Secretary of the Interior Vickers surveyed the newly assembled Cabinet of the Confederacy. From the corner of the room, David watched him rise to his feet, still clad in the travel-stained colonel’s uniform which he had been wearing while he and David had flown to Richmond the previous day. Davis was holding a case full of Vickers’s papers, but had been told to leave his machine-pistol outside the room.

  “Gentlemen,” began Vickers. “I do realize that it is only yesterday that the events occurred which led to the formation of this Cabinet. However, I emphasize most strongly that we should release details of the true state of affairs within the Confederacy as soon as possible, as well as informing the foreign press of events. I have heard that some of the Yankee press is already reporting that
President Davis personally gave the order for the shooting down of the airship, and is currently in hiding, awaiting a suitable moment to emerge. If we do not display ourselves as the true patriots we are, we will find the world filled with these wild conflicting rumors, and when the truth eventually emerges, it will be difficult to separate our fact from others’ fiction.”

  “Eloquently put, Colonel,” replied one of the other men seated at the table. He was wearing a brigadier-general’s uniform. “It doesn’t explain why you took it on yourself to close down all the telegraph offices within twenty miles of Cordele yesterday.”

  “I closed down the telegraph offices,” explained Vickers patiently, “because I wished to have the view of the whole Cabinet before allowing news to reach the outside world. Since the Cabinet had not yet been convened—indeed, we were at that time unsure of the very composition of the Cabinet—I decided that no news was better than half-truths.”