For half an hour we whispered incessantly about everything from fuel-air mixtures to takeoff speed, from throttle and flap positions to wind direction and the weather conditions.
The arc lights of the seaplane base loomed ahead. Every few minutes powerful searchlights swept across the water in search of saboteurs and thieves – in search of people like us. We headed out into deeper water, where the beam was weak, where our small boat would be lost amid the rolling swell. About three hundred yards offshore, Loki stopped rowing and turned to look at what I’d been staring at for some minutes – a string of aircraft moored to buoys. ‘Which one?’ he asked. ‘The furthest from the jetties?’ He pointed to a plane moored far to our right.
‘Might be best,’ I replied. ‘Doubt the sentries will see us that far away.’
‘Then she’s the one,’ he decided.
Pulling hard on the oars, we soon reached the huge floats of the Heinkel. Despite her size and weight she bobbed in the swell like a small piece of ultra-light balsa-wood flotsam. Keeping to Fritz’s blind side, Loki allowed our boat to drift the last few yards until we clonked heavily and noisily against her metal. The beam of a searchlight swept past. We kept low and froze. Thankfully the beam did not return.
Loki leaped onto the float. ‘You go and untie her. I’ll climb up and get the hatch open.’ In a flash he was gone, clambering up the ladder two rungs at a time. I hauled myself onto the float and stood up precariously. A layer of ice had formed – one wrong move and I’d slip into the dark waters. I looked to see where the searchlight beam was, and calculated it would be about half a minute before it returned. Edging my way towards the stern, and the rope tying her to a nearby buoy, for some reason I looked back. What I saw made me shudder. Our rowing boat had drifted away on the tide. Reality smacked me in the face like a fresh snowball. There was no turning back now. I grabbed the rope and untied the plane.
Climbing the ladder, I grasped a handhold and hauled myself inside. I pulled the hatch shut and twisted the handle to secure it. A picture of a giant metal coffin flashed into my head. I shook the image away and eased myself along the crawl way on all fours.
Already in the cockpit, Loki announced, ‘Well, do you want the good news or the brilliant news?’
‘Don’t mind,’ I replied, squeezing myself into the seat beside him and peering through the cockpit window. At any moment I was expecting a patrol boat to come speeding towards us.
‘Well, the good news is that I’ve switched on her avionics. Take a look at her temperature gauges.’ He tapped the instrument panel. ‘She’s still warm, Finn. She must’ve been on patrol this afternoon. That means no waiting for her to warm up.’
At last something was going our way. ‘And the brilliant news?’ I asked.
‘Tanks are almost full of fuel. The gods are smiling on us, Finn.’
Together we went through the pre-flight checks, just as I recalled Dieter and Hans had. Then we went through them again just to make sure. Everything seemed perfect. Well, almost everything. Her flap and rudder controls struck me as very heavy. I recalled Dieter saying that they were probably lighter than I was used to in Father’s Junkers 52, and a horrible thought occurred to me. ‘Do you think she’s iced up?’ I said.
Loki peered out of his side of the cockpit’s window and squinted. ‘Don’t think so.’
‘We need to be sure,’ I added. ‘To try and fly with her flaps and rudder frozen solid would be madness. We’d not be able to turn or control her.’ Sliding the cockpit window open, I leaned out precariously. ‘Try her rudder,’ I said.
Looking down, Loki pressed his left boot onto the rudder footplate.
I saw the rudder move. ‘She’s fine,’ I whispered. ‘Now try her flaps.’ They too seemed OK. I slid the cockpit window shut. ‘She’s just a big bird, that’s all.’
Loki clapped his hands together, rubbed them vigorously, and then seized the control column in front of him. ‘Right, Finn, we’re ready. The magnetos are on and our fuel and air intakes set for takeoff. All we have to do is hit the engine starter switches. Do you want the honour?’
‘No, you do it,’ I replied.
‘Here goes then.’
‘Wait!’ I shouted.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing – it’s just that, well, this is it, I guess. Once we hit those switches and the propellers start turning, Fritz will know something’s up. This is our last moment of secrecy. There’s no going back, is there?’
‘You’re right,’ said Loki, looking serious. ‘We’re either going to be heroes or dead men.’ He grinned at me. ‘Time to swallow hard and stand tall. This is war, Finn.’
‘It’s all right for you,’ I said. ‘You’re much taller than me already.’
He laughed. ‘Here goes.’
‘Wait.’
‘What now?’
Reaching into my pocket, I felt for my most precious possession. Removing the tobacco tin, I popped its lid, tipped out Father’s Norwegian Cross and unwrapped it. I pinned it to my chest. I wanted to wear it in memory of him, with pride, and maybe, just maybe, I hoped a little of his courage would rub off on me. Loki stared at me, incredulous. ‘OK, now I’m ready,’ I declared. ‘Hit those switches and let’s get this bird into the air.’
I clenched my teeth and closed my eyes. The engines whined, and the propellers began turning horribly slowly. ‘Come on,’ Loki cursed. ‘Fire up, for God’s sake.’
Could they hear us? Would some lazy sentry sloping off for a quiet cigarette peer into the darkness and know at once? Would one of Fritz’s Alsatians patrolling the perimeter fence stop dead, prick up his ears and bark to his master? Would the beams of searchlights hunt us down? At last the engines coughed, spat and burst into life.
Loki seized the throttles. ‘Time to say a quick prayer,’ he shouted. Her engines roared, then screamed. I felt her lurch forward.
‘Go easy,’ I said.
We picked up speed, smacking into wave after wave. She shook, creaked and rattled as if she was going to fall apart at the seams. We headed into even deeper water, away from the shore. Looking out of the cockpit window, on either side I could see pale, snowy mountains lit by a crescent moon. Straight ahead lay nothing but black. Our ground speed increased to forty, then fifty, fifty-five, sixty miles per hour. ‘We rotate at eighty,’ I shouted. ‘Keep a tight hold of her.’
Loki nodded and glanced down at the instruments.
Eighty! ‘Now,’ I said, seizing the other column in front of me. Together we pulled back. God, she was heavy. ‘More!’ I shouted.
She bumped and lurched like a runaway train about to derail. She rose and fell as if she was a ship in the midst of a great tempest. Then, suddenly, the pounding ceased, the rocking faded and everything seemed mighty smooth. My God, I thought, we’re flying!
Chapter Twenty-three
Dogfight
MY STOMACH SANK as she climbed steeply. Her nose lifted up. ‘Ease back,’ I said, pressing the column forwards a touch. ‘Like Dieter said, we’ve got to be gentle with her. Treat her like a lady.’
Reaching sixteen hundred feet, according to the altimeter, we eased back the throttles and adjusted the fuel-air mixture for cruising. We’d taken off towards the east and now had to turn back to head westwards. To my surprise, the Heinkel flew like a dream. Slight, gentle movements of the column brought an eager, instant response, and within minutes we’d turned. I could see the lights of Trondheim ahead, down to my left. I couldn’t see anything to suggest we’d been spotted. ‘Do you think they’ll send everyone up to chase us?’ I asked.
‘Let’s hope not,’ Loki replied.
‘You fly her while I examine the chart,’ I said.
‘OK. I need a heading and altitude,’ he said, gripping the column tightly. Briefly he let go and wiped the sweat from his face. ‘This is hard work, Finn. My father was right when he told me that you can’t relax for one second. Keep checking all the main instruments, he’d always say.’ He leaned forward a
nd gave the trim wheel a slight turn. ‘Good advice, I say,’ he added.
‘Right, Loki, got it,’ I said. ‘The most direct route takes us over Kristiansund before heading out to sea. I figure that’s unwise unless we want company. So we’ll head west first and then turn south and run parallel to the coast about fifty miles offshore.’
‘Fine,’ he replied. ‘We’ve enough fuel for the detour. Just feed me the headings.’
I glanced at the compass. ‘We’re OK on this bearing but we need to climb to thirteen thousand feet to clear the mountains. Once we hit the open sea, we’ll drop to a thousand feet, maybe even lower if the visibility’s good.’
Loki eased back the column slightly and opened the throttles. Steadily we climbed and then levelled off. ‘I’ll keep her at eighty-five per cent power for cruising, just like Dieter mentioned,’ he said. ‘Right now we’re spot on thirteen thousand feet with an airspeed of one hundred and sixty miles per hour.’
I scribbled down our heading and airspeed. Then I looked at my watch and noted the time. ‘Is she pulling?’ I asked. ‘Much of a crosswind?’ Loki shook his head. ‘Good. That simplifies things.’ I quickly calculated how long before we would reach the coast, and then the exact time we needed to change course. Then I peered out of the cockpit window and down towards the snowy peaks below. They looked incredibly close to me, so close it felt like I could reach out and scoop up a handful of snow. Father had the confidence of an eagle. He thought nothing of swooping through valleys, of making sharp turns seconds before crashing into towering rock faces, of making steep dives, even flying upside down when at the controls of the nimble little training plane he gained his wings in. Upside down! He had nerves of steel. Mine were proving as fragile as rice paper. In truth, it felt rather like my first ever flight. I’d almost forgotten what it had been like. I’d sat beside Father and, despite his jokes and laughter, I’d listened out hard for the slightest sign of engine trouble. If she missed a tick, or her droning altered in pitch, I grabbed his flying jacket in utter terror, thinking we were about to fall out of the sky. But his confidence proved infectious. By my fourth or fifth flight with him I was an old hand, ignoring the roar of the engine and gazing down on the scenery. ‘Want me to take the controls for a while?’ I asked.
‘Yeah, best if we take it in turns,’ said Loki.
I took hold of the column in front of me. I felt on top of the world. ‘We’ve done it, Loki. We’re actually flying. I can hardly believe it.’
My friend smiled. ‘Let’s see who’s talking about us, Finn.’ He reached for a pair of headphones, slipped them over his ears and then, twisting a few knobs, scanned the airwaves. After a few minutes he shrugged, tore off the headphones and switched off the radio. ‘Can’t pick up anything,’ he said. He rested back and closed his eyes for a few moments.
‘Don’t go to sleep on me,’ I said.
He laughed. ‘No chance of that.’ He turned and looked out of his side of the cockpit, then suddenly sat bolt upright. ‘F-F-Finn, we’ve got company!’ He grabbed my arm.
‘What?’ I leaned across and looked. Another Heinkel was flying just behind our starboard wing tip. ‘Jesus! What now?’ My pulse raced. My mind was in a spin. Loki unfastened his safety harness and began climbing out of his seat. ‘Where the hell are you going?’
‘Down into the nose. I’ll see if I can work out how to use the machine gun. Watch him carefully, Finn. If he makes a move, try to get onto his tail. That’ll give me the best chance to shoot him down.’
I gulped. My mouth was bone-dry. I kept looking out but the plane stayed with us. Then, suddenly, she was gone. I searched the night sky all around me. Nothing! The panic sirens went off in my head. I guessed the pilot was moving into position to launch an attack. Keep calm, Finn, I said to myself. Think clearly and be ready to react. Be like Father. I remembered some of Father’s brilliant manoeuvres. Could I match him? Was the Heinkel capable? Was I? Our plane suddenly lurched to my left and I heard a dozen pings and ricochets. We were being fired at!
‘Hold tight, Loki!’ I yelled, pulling back the column hard. I pushed the throttles to their maximum position and the nose lifted steeply as the engines screamed. My guts felt like they were being pushed to the floor. Keeping her in a steep climb, I turned sharply to port. She leaned at what felt like a precarious angle, almost on her wing tip. We climbed a thousand feet. I threw her into a hard starboard turn, and then pushed the column forwards. For one awful second she seemed to hang in the air, but I knew she was OK. Her nose dropped and we entered a steep diving turn. I throttled back. Frantically I glanced all around. Where was the other Heinkel? Had they matched my manoeuvre? Darkness was a double-edged sword. It offered its protective cloak to both of us.
I heard our machine gun let rip. What was Loki firing at? Then, pitching even more steeply into our dive, I saw our enemy’s silhouette beneath us. Loki must’ve seen her first. And we’d managed to get behind her. I saw our tracer fire track the enemy as Loki got to grips with his aim. We closed in on her fast. Our airspeed had risen to over two hundred miles per hour. The fuselage was creaking like hell. The ground was rushing up to greet us and I knew I’d have to pull out of the dive, or else we’d be out of control. I pulled back on the column. I needed all my strength to fight the controls. I pulled with all my might. Slowly her nose began to lift. I was puffing hard and sweat dripped from my chin. I finally managed to level her a few hundred feet beneath the enemy. The other Heinkel turned sharply to port. I did the same, tracking her change of course. It dawned on me that she wasn’t sure of my position. We had another chance. I slammed the throttles forward and pulled back the column, bringing us directly on an upward collision course.
Shoot, Loki, I thought. Now! What are you waiting for? She’s a sitting duck. This might be our one and only chance. We gained on her rapidly. She turned hard to starboard. I knew the pilot was still trying to figure out our position. I tracked his turn. For God’s sake, Loki, fire at him. Now, before I have to pull out of the climb. Then, finally, Loki opened up. Zipping flashes of tracer fire raced towards the enemy. As he adjusted his aim, the tracer fire closed in on his target. I saw flashes and flames as shell after shell ripped into the enemy. Smoke began to trail from her. Then she exploded. Blinded, I turned hard to port to avoid her debris.
Chapter Twenty-four
Spitfire Alert!
I SETTLED THE plane back onto the right heading for the coast, and brought her back up to thirteen thousand feet. My navigation calculations were now useless. I’d have to start again. I decided to wait until we crossed the coast and I’d use it as a new geographical reference point. Loki manned the guns until we were quite sure the immediate danger was over. I thought it was odd that we’d only been pursued by a single plane but then an idea struck me. Maybe the other pilot just hadn’t expected to see us in his sector. Perhaps he just came to check us out. It would explain why he hung on our wing tip for so long. It had taken him a while to realize we were a target.
‘That was some flying, Finn,’ enthused Loki as he climbed back beside me. ‘Where the hell did you learn to do that?’
‘Just by watching Father. He could do stuff ten times trickier. Anyway, that was pretty fine shooting too.’
‘Thanks. Once I’d worked it out I decided to wait till the last minute before firing. I wanted to get as close as possible.’
‘I noticed! Our first aerial dogfight, Loki. And we came out on top.’
‘Yeah. Let’s hope it stays that way. It was weird, Finn. It’s not like shooting a rifle on dry land. We were all moving so fast. I had to keep making adjustments.’
I leaned forward and pointed out of the cockpit window. ‘Norwegian Sea dead ahead.’
The sea sparkled and shimmered in the moonlight. Not brightly but like black silk or satin with a beautiful sheen. Loki took his turn flying. We descended to six hundred feet. Once well offshore I could feel the wind buffeting us, dragging us southwards. I’d have to make some adjustments to my c
alculations. But once we turned south, it would be on our tail. It would help push us along nicely.
Had we flown at a much higher altitude, and had the sense to time our flight so our arrival coincided with the light of dawn, I guess spotting land would have been cinch. As it was, however, I first realized something wasn’t quite right when Loki came over all quiet and fidgety, as if he’d been dusted with itching powder. He frowned, sucked in his cheeks and whistled through his teeth. Peering at his watch and then at the instrument panel, he grabbed my chart and calculations. Squinting at my scribbles and jottings in the gloom, he tutted under his breath. Just like my schoolwork, it was all a mess, numbers all over the place, some crossed through, some written at right angles, some upside down. ‘I can’t make sense of these, Finn.’
I reached over and tapped a column of figures. ‘Those are the right ones, I’m sure. Ignore the rest of them.’
He still looked confused. He took my pencil, scribbled a few sums, then placed the pencil between his lips and groaned. ‘We are going the right way, aren’t we?’ he asked.
‘Yes,’ I said defensively. ‘Why?’
‘By my reckoning, Scotland should be right over there.’ He pointed to his left.
I followed his outstretched hand. There was no land to be seen. I checked the charts again. ‘I just don’t understand it,’ I said. ‘My calculations are correct. I’ve triple checked them, Loki. I just don’t get it.’
‘Uh-huh. Tell me, exactly how far is it to Greenland?’ he said.
‘That’s not funny.’
‘Who’s joking? Not me.’
A horrible thought engulfed me – if I’d messed up, we were destined to run out of fuel, crash and drown.
‘Finn, how long has she been flying like this?’
‘Like what?’
‘She’s pulling slightly to starboard.’
‘What do you mean?’ I asked, the panic rising in my voice.
‘Here, take hold of the controls again. See? Can you feel it? It’s barely perceptible, but she’s definitely drifting to starboard.’
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