June 1944-at an RAF base in southern England...
Grimly,the flight crews walked into the briefing hall,and very few of them were smiling.This was of course,the normal routine for a start to a mission.
Many of the flight crews were highly experienced veterans,and some were on their second and third tours of flying operations.It was something they loved.
Of course,for every highly experienced crew,there was always the beginner crews,and none of them were smiling.To them,and just like all the other crews,they were all thinking if this was the day they were going to die.
In command of one of these beginners crews,was Captain Frank Jones.He was the eldest of a five man crew.Jones' crew consisted of his co-pilot,Pete Sands,his navigator,Tommy Grimes,and his two gunners,John Jennings and Paul Williams.
Jones had to admit he didn't have a happy crew.He didn't doubt every one of them could do their job and work together,but he could see the animosity.
It had all stemmed from Sands,who had taken a dim view that Jennings and Williams weren't worthy enough,to serve in the crew.Sands,like a lot of his fellow flyers,turned their noses up at the lower ranks.He believed he was the most important member of the crew,and loved to sneer down his orders at those under his rank.
Jones didn't tolerate this.He'd seen Sands act this way before,and privately,he really bollocked him.He knew Sands was an excellent co-pilot,but why he chose to act this way,Jones never knew,and Sands wasn't telling.
However,Jones had told Sands,that Jennings and Williams,like themselves,had worked damned hard to achieve their current positions,and Jones appreciated this.He knew he had a good crew,but unfortunately,not all would be friends off duty.
They were sitting waiting,for their commanding officer to enter.He would give them the briefing on their target.Privately,Jones hoped it would be an easy one.After all,that was usually the case for a crew on their first mission.
They then saw their commanding officer enter,and almost immediately,one of the staff seargents shouted for the crews to stand to attention.All did so.
In command of this base,was Group Captain Mason.He was a firm believer in discipline,and could be quite ruthless running his base.Yet he was popular amongst his crews,from the flying operational,right down to the ground crews,who did a tremendous job keeping his aircraft operational.
Mason's face was grim as he walked towards the big screen covered by a massive sheet.Obviously,once the sheet was removed,everybody here would know what the next target would be.Mason had already seen it,and despite his firm character,he was deeply concerned inside.This one was really tough.
When he reached the covered screen,Mason turned to face his men.He could quite clearly see a lot of fear on some faces.Mason didn't blame them.After all,he'd been through it himself.He really wished he was going with them,to provide some much needed support,knowing his crews appreciated this.He had actually done so,many,many times.Thanks to his presence on these dangerous missions,Mason had saved many of his crews lives.
Unfortunately,the staff at headquarters had found out what he was doing,and had strictly forbidden him to fly any more.It had appalled Mason,as he now knew his people would be on their own.The risk factor,just shot up.
'At ease.'Mason nodded to his standing crews,and they all sat down.He then began the briefing.
'An excellent job on the previous target,'Mason informed them,having seen the ariel reconaissance photos earlier.Only yesterday,his squadrons had decimated an oil refinery,although the price had been high.Not many had come back from that one.'But I'm afraid there's another tough one in store for you.'
Mason then turned to nod at a waiting officer by the screen,and the man promptly removed the sheet to reveal a large map of northern France.As he did so,there were sudden groans as everybody clearly recognised where they were going.
'The target for today,'Mason went on,'is the Luftwaffe fighter bases at Abbeville.Headquarters have ordered us to smash General Galland's resources,and kill as many enemy fighter pilots as possible.This is of course,necessary for bigger events.'
He knew everybody would know about the upcoming invasion of France,and Mason was determined to make this mission a success.If they could keep the skies clear of enemy aircraft,they could save a lot of lives.
'Preparations are proceeding,'Mason went on grimly,'and I know every one of you will do your duty.I know a lot of you are tired,but we must keep the momentum going,and that's to keep hammering away at the enemy.The more we do that,the less this war will go on.'
He could see a lot of blank expressions on the men,but Mason would make sure he spoke to every one of them,before they flew out.He'd seen a lot of commanders act negatively towards their own crews,and he utterly despised them for it.This way,Mason had his men's trust,and knew every one was totally loyal to him.It was a good system,and a lot got done.Mason also knew his base was well known,and it was given a lot of credit.
Mason then handed the rest of the briefing,over to the other standing officers.These were the weather and intel officers.They always gave the necessary information to the crews,at what was lying in store for them.
Although of course,it didn't always work out that way.
The briefing didn't last long,and once the RAF officers had finished,Mason then addressed his people once more.
'Okay people,'Mason wasn't smiling as he spoke.'Take off at 0800.Good luck,and God be with you.'
He then walked away from the screen,and without the same officer who had ordered them to attention earlier,all the men sitting down jumped to their feet as their commander walked out.Mason nodded at them,appreciating the gesture.Then,he was gone.The crews were then dismissed,and made their way to their personal rooms and lockers to prepare.
Jones walked with Sands and Grimes.Being senior flight crew,they all had the luxury of having their own rooms.Jennings and Williams shared their own.Jones knew his gunners didn't mind that.Both of them were great friends.With his co-pilot's stuck up attitude,Jones knew both Jennings and Williams needed each others company.He privately hoped Sands would improve his attitude,but it didn't look like it.
Once they'd all sorted out their gear,and were told to write out a last letter just in case their number was up,the three men made their way towards a waiting jeep.A driver was sitting there,and they could also see Jennings and Williams sitting on the rear of it,waiting for them.
'You got everything?'Jones asked them both,as he sat in the passenger seat.
'Yes,sir.'They both answered in unison,and respectfully too.
Jones nodded,but again,he could see the crew divide,as both his gunners and Sands blanked each other out.It made his blood boil inside,but for now,they had a job to do.
Jones nodded to the driver,and the man drove the vehicle off,heading towards the waiting aircraft,parked in their assigned bays by the runway.
The aircraft here,were Bostons.A twin engined plane,which had been designed for bombing.Although it did carry extra weaponry,and Jones had asked for it.As well as their bombs,they also had forward firing rocket tubes,and of course,two twin .50 calibre machine guns mounted in the fuselage.Jennings was the upper gunner,whilst Williams did his duty in the rear.
The driver drove them up to their assigned aircraft,and as they all looked at it,there wasn't much confidence shown in Jones and his crew.The plane wasn't new.In fact,it looked as if it was better on the scrapheap.
'This is ours?'Jones asked the driver,somewhat incredulously.
'Yes,sir,'the driver nodded,confirming this.'I'm afraid new crews just have to accept what they're given.'
'Damned bad show!'Grimes interjected.'I hope it bloody flies then!'
Wearily,Jones knew they didn't have a choice here.
'Come on,'he ordered quietly,as he climbed out of the jeep.'Let's get it over with.'
Grimly,his crew followed suit,and they all boarded the aircraft,and began to prepare for take off.
Once all the pre-flight checks were complete,the order came in to start engines,and Jones couldn't help,but feel a little nervous as he pressed the start control.
It only took a couple of turns,but much to his surprise,both propellers started without any problems whatsoever.Jones glanced at Sands sitting next to him,and both nodded at each other.
'Crew,'this time,Sands gave the order.'Assume positions for take off.'
Jones was pleased to hear no snobbery in Sands tone,and Grimes,Jennings and Williams acknowledged back,that they were ready.
Tensely,they all waited for the order to go,or if the mission was scrubbed.
After what seemed an age of waiting,the order finally came to take up their position on the runway.
'This is it,'Jones spoke quietly.'Good luck,chaps.'
They watched as one Boston after another lifted gracefully into the air,before they too,got the signal to go.Jones and Sands had done this plenty of times,and their take-off,was just as good as all the others.
Grimly,Jones brought the plane into his assigned formation,and after checking everything was okay with the other pilots,who gave him a thumbs up,Jones returned the gesture,and concentrated on the job.Flying into northern France,was of course,just a short flight.Yet,he was silently praying they'd be okay on the return flight.
'Okay lads,'Jones addressed his crew through his microphone,built into his flying mask.'Keep your eyes peeled.Let's work together as usual,make a successful attack,and let's get back home in one piece.'
His orders were acknowledged,and grimly,they pressed on towards the target.As they flew on,Jones and Sands now noticed a welcome sight.Spitfires came in to join them.At least they now had fighter cover,and it raised their morale a little.
They continued on,crossing the English Channel.Jones said another silent prayer to himself,hoping they wouldn't have to ditch there.He'd heard so many horror stories,about luckless crews forced down into the sea.If you weren't picked up quickly from there,you'd freeze to death.
They crossed the channel quickly,and sure enough,the coast of northern France came into view.
'Okay,'Jones' voice became more grim.'Enemy coast in sight.Everybody stay alert.What's our TOT(Time on Target)navigator?'
'Twenty minutes,skipper,'Grimes had already done his calculations,and was now working out a course to head back home.
'Okay,good.Gunners,any sign of enemy planes?'
Before either Jennings or Williams could respond,there was a sudden thumping sound underneath them.Grimly,they all knew what this was,the dreaded flak.
Jones' heart started to thump faster,as he clearly saw the menacing black puffs begin to appear outside.It was light though,and after a few more moments,it disappeared.
However,there was no relief on any of their faces,as they all knew the enemy was now alerted to their presence.
They carried on,until they could at last,see distant aerodromes,and knew they'd reached their target.
'Okay,proceeding to the IP.(Initial Point)' Jones then flew the Boston over to this point,just as many other pilots did.Once there,they could commence their attack.
Suddenly,Jones and everybody else jumped,when they heard screams of fear through their radios.Horror stricken,they could see three Boston aircraft suddenly blow up into fireballs,just as the German fighters made their first successful attack on the RAF formation.Deadly German Messerschmitt 109's and the dreaded Focke-Wolf 190's,tore into them,with cannon shells blazing.
'Hells teeth!'Sands cursed.There was nothing worse,than watching a fellow comrade in arms being blown out of the sky,and there was nothing you could do about it.
Jones however,had noticed the Spitfires now enter the fray,and the deadly battle raged.He glanced around him,and for the moment,he could make his attack run unseen by the German fighters.
Grimly,he made his approach.Jones could see several Bostons make their own attacks,and there were bombs being dropped.Huge explosions hammered around the German airfield.As he got closer,Jones could see the defences smashing into other,unfortunate crews.Their planes plummeted into the ground.They were so low,that Jones knew none of those people had a chance to bail out.
Then,it was their turn.
Jones and Sands clenched their teeth,as they clearly saw the Germans react furiously to their attack,but Jones pressed on.Grimes had already crawled into the bomb aimers hatch,and was now telling Jones where to direct the plane.
'Left a bit,skipper,'For all the hell that was going on outside,Grimes' voice was remarkably calm.'Left a bit more.Keep her steady,up,up.That's it.Bombs away!'
With huge relief,Grimes depressed the bomb release,and a long stick of 500Ib bombs raced towards the German airbase.The results were spectacular,as there was a sudden,gigantic fireball.This raced up towards the sky at frightening speed,and Jones had to take sudden evasive action.
'Bloody hell!'Grimes was staring in fascination at the huge pall of smoke rising.'What on earth caused that?'
'Probably an ammo dump,'Jones thought that was a pretty obvious answer.'Let's get the hell out of here.'
Jones swung the Boston around,and headed for home,but unfortunately,he was spotted by several German fighters.
Instantly,they closed in for the kill,with their weapons blazing away.Jones did his best,as did Jennings and Williams.who returned fire desperately.Both of them were more than capable shots,and they did hit their targets,but gradually,their situation worsened.
Two of the German fighters rapidly approached their prey,and working together,they both attacked the British plane's engines.Within moments,it became ablaze.
With a sinking heart,Jones could see they'd lost an engine,and despite his orders to extinguish the flames,he could quite clearly see their hopes of making it back fading.
He was about to give the order to abandon the aircraft,when cannon shells suddenly smashed through the cockpit window.Both he,Sands and Grimes were killed instantly.Their bodies slumped forward.
Jennings returned fire at the German who'd just opened up on them,but he had heard the cockpit windows being smashed,and with his own thumping heart,came down from his position,and checked on the three unmoving men.
He knew there was nothing he could do for them.
Grimly,he began to pull on his parachute pack,and shouted towards his friend,who was blazing away with the twin .50 calibre guns.
'Paul!We've had it.It's time to go.'
Unseen by Jennings,Williams had spotted a Focke-Wolf closing in on them.He could already feel the plane,now starting to lose altitude,but he wanted to get this kraut,and hopefully give them a few more seconds to escape.
He aimed his guns at the German,and started to shoot,just as his target did so.
Just as before,the German fighter fired cannon shells into his target.Williams never stood a chance.The shells tore into his body,and watching his friend slump,Jennings realised he was the only one left.
He had put on his parachute pack,and after a struggle,managed to open the escape hatch closest to him.Already,the interior of the plane was in flames,and Jennings launched himself out into space.
He delayed pulling the ripcord as he fell,hearing grim stories of Germans firing on helpless parachutists.Jennings wanted to delay it,until the last possible moment.
Jennings could see the Boston he'd bailed out off,and it was fully on fire.He was devastated at the loss of his friend,and realised when the plane would crash,there might not be anything left of them.He hadn't liked Sands,but at least they had worked together.It was down to Jones,who had managed that.Now,they were all dead.
He checked around him,and saw no more aircraft,but he could still hear the air battle raging on.Jennings could now see the ground closing in on him.It was open countryside here,and he spotted a young girl riding a bicycle,on one of the country lanes.She was looking up at him,and Jennings thought she was very pretty.
All those thoughts disappeared next moment,as Jennings pulled the ripcord,and quickly,his chute opened up fully.
He didn't have much chance to enjoy the slow descent,as a couple of seconds later,he slammed hard into the ground.Then,he was vaguely aware of the girl riding up to him.Her face looked concerned,as she peered down at him.
He could see the girl was very pretty,having long dark,jet black hair,warm brown eyes,and had a good figure too.She wore a white shirt,with a knee length black skirt.She wore clear nylons,and was wearing smartly polished black shoes.
'Aide moi,sil vous plait,'Jennings managed to speak in French to her.He could feel the blackness swallowing him up.'Je suis Anglais.'
'Anglais?'The girl asked him,as she put her hand on his forehead.That actually really helped Jennings,but he was exhausted from his escape from death,and he closed his eyes.The last thing he remembered,was the girl still looking him over.
+++
Riding along on her bicycle,Louise Clery could hear the sounds of the fierce air battle in the sky overhead.She couldn't see the planes,but the vapour trails were fully evident,and there was plenty of them.Louise could even hear the gunfire too.This made her pedal faster.
Damn the cursed Boche! Louise thought with anger.They'd invaded her country,forced a humiliating peace on her people,and treat the French with utter disdain.Louise hoped for one day,these cursed Boche would pay dearly for what they'd done to her country.
In fact,Louise knew her family were making the German invaders pay dearly fr their actions.Her father and two brothers were actively involved in the Maquis.She knew of their acts of sabotage against the German military.They'd done very well so far,but it was extremely risky.The Germans had been really ruthless,trying to hunt out those responsible.There were even rumours of an undercover Gestapo unit,right here in her home village.If this was true,they had to be really careful.Capture meant agonising torture,and eventual death.
It was then,that Louise noticed a single parachutist,now coming close to her position.Whoever it was,he made an awkward landing,and there was a brief cry of pain.Louise instantly recognised the English accent,and she pedalled over quickly to where he'd landed.
When Louise got there,she could tell the man was badly hurt.His leg looked in an awkward place,and she knew he'd broken it.The man looked at her briefly,and spoke to her in French,asking her to help him.
Louise asked him if he was English,but of course,she already knew that.She just wanted to be sure.
Getting back on her bicycle,Louise pedalled back home as fast as she could.
When she got there,her parents and two brothers were there.They gazed concerned,at her violent entry.
'Louise,'her father looked puzzled at her.'What is wrong?'
'Papa,Mama,'Louise's voice was breathless.'I found an Englishman.He's hurt.We must help him.'
'Have the Germans found him?'One of her brothers,Jacques,asked her.
'No,I didn't see any,'Louise responded.'But they will have seen him.I'm sure of that.'
'Jacques,get the car,'her father ordered.'Pierre,'he glanced at his youngest son.'Get a hold of Doctor Platini.Tell him to bring his stretcher.'
'At once,father.'Neither of his sons hesitated,as they hurried away.
He was about to follow Jacques,when he suddenly noticed Louise was going to follow.
'And where do you think you're going,young lady?'
'I'm coming with you.'Louise was adamant.
'Oh no you're not,'her father spoke firm,but gently.'You stay here with your mother,and keep an eye on the damned boche.We will be back soon.'
'You don't even know where he is,papa!I can show you.'
'We will find him.Just point us to where you saw him.'
Grudgingly,Louise told her father where she'd seen the downed Englishman.Before she could protest anymore,her father then disappeared,heading to the garage.Within moments,both she and her mother heard the car engine start,and the sound of it driving away.All they could do now,was wait.
As Louise's father and her brother,Jacques drove out in their car,they didn't see the two men sitting in a cafe,who had watched them leave.A few moments earlier,they'd seen a young man leave the house they were observing,and he hurried away.
They didn't follow of course.Their orders were strictly to observe,and report their findings back.Both men had remembered their commanding officer give them to them.
He was known as Major Hans Gunther,a much feared Gestapo officer.He was a powerfully built man,and he certainly had plenty of hired muscle.He needed it too,as he prised confessions out of every unfortunate suspect,that fell into his hands.
Gunther had been ordered here,to seek and capture the French sabotuers operating in this area.He was determined to do so,and from his intelligence,a house in the village had been pinpointed as a high suspect.
Gunther had ordered the details of the inhabitants of the house,to be brought to him at once.This was done quickly,and once Gunther had read it,he was very pleased to find a picture of two,highly attractive women.
They were mother and daughter of course.Gunther could tell that,having a keen eye for detail.He also liked the look of the very pretty daughter.She was known as Louise Clery,and this got Gunther thinking.
The intelligence he had,strongly indicated the men of that household were passionate Maquis,but there was no evidence to support this.
However,Gunther was crafty,and he had a plan.He'd ordered his spies to observe the Clery home,and report on what they did,but they were also to keep the Clery girl under observation at all times.
Gunther had plans for her.All he needed,was to be patient,and once he did have Louise,he would show her the ropes.
An evil smirk passed over his face,as he thought that.
More to follow...
