Red Hawk Rising

by Peter William Hall

  Berin made notes of his observations of the activities on West Sanby airfield. A new building was being constructed and there was greater activity at the nearby hangar. A site had also been prepared near the northern end of the runway. He guessed that the radar would be located there. All this meant that the arrival of the trials unit and the SAM system was getting close. He would need to visit more frequently and also visit the pub at West Sanby to see what he could find out. Walmar wasn’t going out fishing tonight because he had to attend a parent/teacher meeting at the local school. He was a dedicated family man. That worried Berin because it could cause Walmar’s loyalty to be divided and he could not afford to let that happen. One of the married airmen rented a house at Parfleet St Peter and seemed to be very friendly with one of the fishermen. Walmar got information on the base’s activities from that fisherman. Obviously the airman had a loose tongue but would he be of any use for information on the new SAM system? Berin thought not. He would need to make contact with the trials unit personnel. Berin decided to go over to West Sanby that evening. He would ask Walmar for the use of the van. If the trials unit personnel had recently arrived then they would head for the nearest pub. Could he get access to the equipment, he wondered. Dogs and handlers patrolled the airfield at night which made going through the fence risky. He would have to look at different options. Berin slid down the seaward side of the sea wall and headed for Parfleet St Peter. He would use the path on top of the wall when he was well past the base.

  That evening, Andy suggested that Lance and Dan and he go down to the local pub for a game of darts. It should be quiet, being a Monday evening. They headed down in Lance’s car. Lance commented on the name of the pub, The Hound and Pheasant, wondering what the chances of getting pheasant were in the season. As Andy expected, the pub was quiet, with only half-a-dozen customers. They went to the bar to order drinks. The publican was at one end in deep conversation with a couple of the locals and called out “Jamie, serve the customers.” James Rogerson came through the door to take their order.

  Andy commented, “Where’s the usual barman?”

  “Oh, he works the weekends. I help out the boss during the week,” said Rogerson. Lance ordered the drinks and asked where the darts were kept. Rogerson nodded over to the end of the bar as he pulled the drinks. Lance and Dan headed down to where the darts were kept and Andy used the opportunity to speak to Rogerson. “Someone is observing the airfield activities with binoculars. We need to do something about it and we need to arrange how we make contact,” he said.

  Rogerson said, “Okay. Let’s do the same as last night.” Andy nodded his agreement, paid for the drinks and took them to a table near the dartboard. The three friends set up for a game of 500. While they were playing, some more of the detachment came into to the bar, ordered drinks and sat near the dartboard where they could all converse. Andy was pleased to note that no-one spoke of work. After a few minutes he asked one of the others to take his place in the game while he went out to the toilet. Rogerson saw him and followed him out as though he were going to the cellar. At the back of the building they stopped to talk.

  “What free time do you have, Jamie,” Andy asked.

  “I have the mornings off,” said Jamie, “and I can get other time off if I arrange it with the boss. The job was arranged for me but I don’t know what the connection is. He was in the RAF during the Second World War.”

  “Can I telephone you here?” asked Andy.

  “Sure,” said Jamie, “I’ll give you the number.”

  Andy responded, “You can ‘phone me at the JSTU but someone will be listening in to any calls. Could you visit Parfleet St Peter tomorrow morning and check out the fishing boats and see what you can find out. Our interested observer and your radio messages may be connected.”

  “I’ll see what I can find out and talk to you tomorrow evening,” said Jamie. Andy nodded his agreement and headed for the toilet. Jamie headed for the cellar.

  When Andy went back into the bar he noticed a newcomer. The man had the complexion of someone who spent a lot of time at sea or on the sea-front. He was standing with his back to the bar and looking at the JSTU airmen. Andy nodded to him as he went past and was interested in the response. The return nod seemed to be done with a critical assessment, as though he was sizing Andy up. It was not the relaxed response you would expect from a local. The game had finished, Andy’s replacement having won, and a new game started. Andy said he would sit it out. Jamie came back into the bar with a crate of bottles so Andy went up to the bar and asked for a couple of packets of potato crisps. While Jamie was getting them the newcomer went over and sat at a table near the airmen. Andy was curious. It would have been more likely for him to go and sit with the locals playing dominoes with the publican. He caught Jamie’s eye and nodded towards the newcomer. Jamie caught his meaning. Lance came up and ordered another round of drinks. “Guess what, Lance,” said Andy, “our barman’s a bit of a mountaineer. I thought I’d seen him before somewhere. It was at Loch Morlich in the Cairngorms.”

  “Small world,” said Lance and then to Jamie, “I’m Lance. Nice to meet you, Jamie.”

  “Likewise,” said Jamie as he put the drinks on the bar. Andy and Lance went back to their group. Andy was pleased that he had made it easier to be seen talking to Jamie and Jamie had understood what he was doing.

  Berin was listening to the conversation between the group of airmen. He recognised two of them from that afternoon when he had been watching the airfield through binoculars so he knew that this group were part of the trials unit that was setting up at the air base. It was interesting that none of them spoke about their work but discussed sport and other matters. It was confirmation to Berin that they must be on that unit. He decided not to try speaking to any of them this evening but let them get used to seeing him as a local. With that thought he got up and ordered another drink, then went across to the group of locals and asked if any of them were interested in buying some fresh fish. He told them that he was a deck hand on one of the boats at Parfleet St Peter. The publican asked him who he was working for and Berin said, “Walmar on the Penny Jane. He doesn’t mind if I sell a few fish from my share.”

  The publican said, “I know Walmar. Good man. Okay, I’ll work something out for you later.” Jamie had been listening in from his position behind the bar. He made a note to check the boat and Walmar out on the morrow.

  ***

  It was 08.30 hours on the Tuesday morning (4th) and a small convoy of RAF vehicles were rolling past the guardroom and heading for the gate to the airfield. They were carrying the radar unit, a generator and towing a site caravan. There was also a Coles crane since the base didn’t have one with the necessary reach and lift. Sarge and his crew were waiting for them down at the site. They had organised a truck to carry all their tools and other necessary equipment from the hangar. Andy was there to get the details of all the equipment that arrived. He was also expecting the detachment from Coventry to arrive at about 14.00 hours. As it was a small team they were coming in a truck with all their tools and equipment. The launcher and missile were due to arrive on the Monday and the control unit the following day. Andy decided that it was going to be a busy ten days.

  In Sleaford, an empty warehouse was undergoing some changes. A truck unloaded truck maintenance tools and equipment. A van delivered furniture and camp beds. A team of four men busied themselves setting the interior up like a temporary workshop. It was being done very efficiently. One of the warehouse offices was set up like a doctor’s consulting room and another as a temporary bedroom.

  Parfleet St Peter looked like a picture postcard village to James Rogerson. He drove through the village and down to the harbour, not that it was much of a harbour, he thought. Jamie parked the van and walked around the harbour. The harbour was empty of fishing vessels so he had a walk around and noticed a shed with ‘N. Walmar’ above the door. There were other sheds with the names of other fishermen. An older man was sitting outside o
ne shed repairing some crab pots. Jamie went up and asked when the boats were due back.

  “About 10.30.” he was told, “on the high tide.” Jamie told the man he had to see Walmar about some fish. “He’ll be in with the other boats,” was the response. Jamie looked at his watch and saw he had an hour to wait. He decided to walk around the village and get a feel for the place. Near the harbour was a small cafe-cum-fishmongers. According to the signage, it was owned by the fishermen’s co-operative. Back from the harbour, the road crossed over the waterway that drained from the surrounding land. It could hardly be called a river. On the south side, near the bridge, were the local pub and a shop-cum-post office. Farther down was the local church and next to it the local primary school. To the north was a small garage-cum-service station and welding works. Beyond were houses and the sea wall. Jamie decided to go for a walk to the north and see what there was to see, deciding that it was best not to be asking too many questions while the fishing fleet was out. He walked up past the garage and headed out of the village onto the sea wall. To the seaward there was about a hundred yards of small grassy dunes leading on to a narrow beach that shelved fairly steeply into the sea. The shoreline curved out to a small promontory of dunes before sweeping back inland again. North of the promontory the beach became quite wide. To the north seaward, Jamie could see freighters at anchor outside the mouth of the Humber River and waiting for high tide to head up to the docks on either side of the river. Looking inland, the land was flat and all farming. A mile or so away he could see the RAF base with its hangars and the radar unit with its dish constantly rotating. Across the airfield he could see the noses of missiles pointed skywards. Jamie decided to walk along the sea wall and get closer to the airbase. It would obviously be easy for someone to keep it under observation and note the activity taking place. He walked for about ten minutes and everything about the base became clearer as he drew closer. It was about a quarter of a mile to the perimeter fence from the sea wall and the fence was topped by three strands of barbed wire. There were no barriers to keep people away from the perimeter fence. Someone with a good pair of binoculars could identify personnel on the base and develop a pretty good picture of what was happening. Jamie looked at his watch and turned to go back to the harbour and wait for the fishing boats to return. His last visit here had been rushed but this time he had been able to take in much more detail.

  On his return to the harbour, Jamie decided to buy a coffee and went into the fishmongers-cum-cafe. The fresh fish counter was empty, waiting for the day’s catch to come in. A woman in her late twenties was looking after the shop. Jamie ordered a white coffee and, on seeing some scones and cake for sale, asked for a scone also. There were no other customers in the shop and Andy sat down at a table. When she brought the coffee and scone out the woman spoke to Jamie, “You’re visiting here, then?’ she queried.

  “Yes,” replied Jamie, “I’m over from West Sanby to buy some fish from Mr Walmar for the pub.”

  “He’ll be in with the high tide,” she said, and went on, “Are you new in West Sanby? I thought I knew everyone there.”

  Jamie nodded in reply. “Yes, I haven’t been there long.”

  Just then a hooter sounded outside the harbour. “That’ll be the boats coming back,” the woman said. “By the way,” she went on, “What’s your name?”

  “I’m Jamie,” he replied, “Jamie Rogerson.”

  “I’m Yvonne,” the woman said. “Nice to meet you.”

  Jamie returned the courtesy with a, “Likewise. I might see you again.”

  She gave him a smile and said, “And buy the fish from me next time.” Jamie nodded his reply, finished his coffee and headed out of the shop to see the arrival of the fishing boats. There was a harbour wall with large iron rings cemented into it for mooring the fishing boats. At low tide the boats would be sitting on the bottom. With the tide now up, the first vessel was chugging up the channel into the harbour. Four other fishing boats were strung out in a line along the channel leading into the harbour. Behind him, a female voice said, “Walmar’s vessel is the Penny Jane. He named it after his wife.”

  Jamie turned to see Yvonne standing near him watching the fishing boats coming in. She smiled at him and he returned the smile with a “Thanks,” and went back to watching the vessels coming in.

  Yvonne continued, “It’s the third boat coming in. You can tell it by the distinctive red band painted around the hull below the bulwarks.”

  It was almost as though she wanted to engage Jamie in conversation. He sensed this and stepped back so that he was standing level with her instead of in front of her, nodding to her as he did so. “Thank you. I assume Walmar will moor his boat in front of his shed?” he queried.

  “Yes,” said Yvonne, “that would be normal.”

  “How come Walmar is selling fish directly to my boss and not through the co-operative?” Jamie asked.

  Yvonne replied, “They all have special customers that they deal directly with but it’s only a small portion of the catch. Most of it is sold through the co-operative. It also buys a lot of items they need for their boats and for the fishing. It works well for them.”

  Jamie replied, “It must be interesting working the co-operative with such a variety of duties. Do you do most of the work?”

  “Yes,” Yvonne replied. “I look after the office and the shop. I get some help at weekends when we get a lot of visitors. People come for the fresh fish and crabs.” Jamie thought to himself that Yvonne may well be a useful source of information so he decided to be friendly without going beyond friendship.

  The old man that had been mending pots was pulling trolleys out and parking them at each mooring spot. The boxes of fish would be put onto them to be taken to the co-operative’s cold store. Jamie thought that he may look old but he was certainly fit. The first boat was now entering the harbour and it headed for the mooring near the shed of Anderson Bros. Other people were now arriving at the harbour, mainly women. No doubt they are wives of the fishermen, thought Jamie. “I’m going to be pretty busy very soon,” said Yvonne. “I’ll see you again?” she asked of Jamie.

  “Well, yes. Certainly,” he replied, caught a little off-guard by the directness of the question. She gave him a warm smile and walked over to the fishing boat that was now at its mooring. A few minutes later, the Penny Jane arrived at its mooring and Jamie walked towards it. A woman in her late thirties was standing there and Jamie guessed it must be Walmar’s wife. The deck hand mooring the boat was the man he had seen in the West Sanby pub. A solid-looking man in his forties came out of the wheelhouse of the fishing boat. He lifted a gangplank in place and went down and gave the woman a hug and a kiss. Then they both went on board to start unloading the catch. Walmar hooked a loading net onto the boats hoist and lowered it into the hold. The deck hand went down into the hold and started loading the boxes of fish onto the net. When it was ready he signalled for Walmar to raise the net from the hold. A small donkey motor drove the winch and as the net cleared the hold it was swung out over the quayside. People other than the local villagers now arrived and walked from trolley to trolley looking at the catch as it was unloaded from the boats. Jamie walked over to the Penny Jane and called out, “Mr Walmar, I’ve come to pick up the order from The Hound and Pheasant at West Sanby.” Walmar looked surprised and turned to Berin.

  He said, “I was over there last night and got the order from the publican, Mr Casey. Sorry, I forgot to tell you.”

  Walmar, looking a little put out, said, “Okay. We’ll be about fifteen minutes before we can sort something for you. Just wait for us.”

  “Fine, Mr Walmar,” said Jamie.

  Penny Walmar came over to Jamie, “Don’t mind my husband. He’s feeling tired. We didn’t have a good night with our young daughter last night,” she said apologetically. “Do you have children? Sorry,” she said, “I’m Penny Walmar,” and she held out her hand.