Deep Behind Enemy Lines, page 3
‘You must be psychic! It so happens that I’m just about to take a couple of weeks’ leave. Now would be an excellent time to meet up with an old buddy. What are you up to?’
‘Well, I’m stationed here in Detmold, Nordrhein-Westfalen; part of BAOR, the British Army over the Rhine. I’m still a pilot in the Army Air Corps, enjoying regular flying with a private skydiving club in my spare time and am now happily married. So, what about you?’
‘Congratulations on all counts, mate. As for me, your grapevine is correct. I’ve just done a static line parachute course and had it in mind to try and get in some free fall parachuting before I head off to a posting in Kenya. Your call is a very timely coincidence.’
Bill hoped Roger wouldn’t think he was taking liberties and might just offer him an opportunity to do just that.
‘Great! Come on over and let’s do it. Kill all the birds with one stone,’ responded Roger with enthusiasm.
‘Thanks. I don’t need asking twice. If you’re sure it’s OK I can arrange a flight tomorrow to Paderborn.’
‘Waste no time, old buddy. I’ll check the incoming flights and meet you there.’
‘It’ll be really good to see you again mate.’
Bill’s flight landed on 7th October 1963 at Paderborn-Lippstadt Airport at 1100 hours, and Roger met him as promised.
‘Welcome to Detmold,’ Roger said as they shook hands. ‘It’s really great to see you again. What’s it been two, three years and you haven’t changed a bit.’
‘I think two and thanks for the compliment and unexpected invite. It’s good to see you again as well and get a chance for a catch-up.’
‘I’ve booked you a room in the mess, which is about twenty minutes away.’
‘Sounds good to me. Catterick Camp seems a lifetime ago and the weather was just like this then.’
‘You’re right it was,’ Roger replied. ‘Overcast and drizzling!’
When they arrived at Detmold barracks and had cleared security they headed for the mess, parked and walked across to the accommodation area where Roger showed Bill his room.
‘OK, Bill, I’ll leave you to settle in and wait for you in the bar for a couple of drinks.’
‘Great. See you shortly.’
It was a promising start to the visit. The room was comfortable with plenty of space, light and airy with a serviceable en suite, good-size wardrobe, a desk and chair for catching up on paperwork, letters etc., together with a comfortable lounger where he could take the weight off his feet and enjoy the newspapers. There was, of course, a good-size TV as well. Yes, he was going to be very comfortable whilst he was here.
He freshened up and joined Roger in the bar, where he was handed a welcome beer, and they moved to comfortable seating near the window. From this vantage point Bill had a clear view of the Kaiser Wilhelm statue that topped one of the highest hills in the Detmold area, commanding a view that extended out across the Grunewald forest. The drizzle had stopped now and being in an elevated position the town of Detmold, with its considerable history, was clearly visible. The ornate rooftops and numerous towers of the state technical university and several church spires could be seen in the distance. On the flight over he’d read the historic Royal Seat of Detmold boasted a radiant city centre, which Bill intended visiting during his stay.
‘Like the view, Bill?’
‘Spectacular, especially with the statue of old Kaiser Wilhelm dominating it.’
‘I’ve flown around it on numerous occasions to show it off to visiting military brass. So, let’s hear all your murky details over the last two years!’
Bill filled him in on all that had happened since they’d last met.
‘Loads of exciting stuff, eh!’
‘Yep. The most recent is that as well as the parachute course at P Company in Aldershot, I’ve attended some intensive joint warfare training at Old Sarum.’
‘I bet that was pretty interesting.’
‘Yes, the parachute course was brilliant, and I learned quite a lot about joint warfare that was new to me. I’ve also just been security cleared to join a Special Wireless Unit in Nairobi.’
‘Man, you really are moving up apace, eh! When do you expect to join them?’
‘In a couple of weeks. I can’t give you much information about it except to say to be accepted into the unit I had to pre-qualify as a parachutist.’
‘Well, there’s plenty of parachuting going on here,’ said Roger.
‘Actually, since you had the brainwave to call me, that’s one of the things I’d like to discuss with you. But first let me get us another beer and then you can fill me in on all your doings since we were at Catterick. And don’t leave out the getting married stage because I always pegged you for a confirmed bachelor!’
When Bill returned with the drinks, Roger gave chapter and verse on his last two years. He’d never been a man to wear his heart on his sleeve, so his description of meeting and marrying his wife was brief and to the point. The subject of parachuting, on the other hand, was given much more detail.
‘Just to let you know, a lot of private parachuting goes on here in Detmold, especially by the local skydiving clubs. My official flying time mainly revolves around field exercises, flying visiting guests about and basically operating as an airborne taxi service for high-ranking officers. It’s unadventurous and decidedly boring. Oh, yes! The other piece of good news is I recently got my promotion to Warrant Officer Second Class.’
‘Congratulations again,’ grinned Bill and gave Roger a firm slap on the knee.
‘Anyway, notwithstanding my daily workhorse duties, I do have a rather enjoyable time at weekends privately flying one of three De Havilland DH89 Rothman Dragon Rapides we’ve got stationed here. A great historical aircraft. And I’m due to go on a rotary wing conversion course shortly at the Army Air Corps Flight-training Centre at Middle Wallop in the UK. This should be in a couple of weeks, so probably around the same time as you ship out to Kenya.’
‘Well, your invite was timely because, apart from getting the chance to meet up with an old mate, I’m sure you’ve sussed that I want to ask if there’s a chance you could arrange a couple of free fall practice jumps for me. Would that be possible?’ If Roger could manage that it would most certainly cover his intended R & R. He paused, looked across at Roger and held his breath for the answer.
‘I can’t see that’ll be a problem. I’ve completed many drops for our local amateur skydiving club. They’re performed from around twelve thousand feet, and we use a disused airfield at Bad Lip Springer, which is just a few kilometres down the road. The club has a sortie coming up this weekend and I’ve been tasked to take them up in the Rapide. I’m sure you’d be welcome to join them. In fact, their training officer could go through the essentials with you at the airfield either a day or two before or even on the day of the jump. How would that catch you, metaphorically speaking,’ laughed Roger.
‘Simply awesome!’
‘We’ve a guy called Peter Silk who’s an honorary member of this mess. He’s a qualified BPA skydiving instructor and he comes into the mess for a couple of beers most evenings. I’ll give him a call this afternoon and put it to him and see if he’s free to come over this evening to meet you and go over it all,’ suggested Roger.
‘That would be fantastic mate and thanks again. What an opportunity.’
‘OK, I’ll do my best to arrange it and I’ll give you a call later.’
Roger clapped Bill on the shoulder and left the mess.
Metaphorically speaking, Bill had his fingers crossed the meeting could be arranged and tingled with anticipation about the airborne activities he hoped and prayed might be about to begin.
Chapter 5
True to his word, Roger called Bill to tell him Peter Silk had agreed to meet in the mess that evening at 1800 hours so, a little ahead of time, Bill went to the bar, ordered a beer and sat down at a table to wait for them to arrive.
Walking in beside Roger, Bill saw a slim man with sandy hair. He stood straight and tall at about five feet nine and when they came up to him he looked into a face that held a pair of deep blue eyes and a genuine smile of welcome.
Peter Silk held out his hand. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, Bill. Welcome to Detmold. Roger tells me you’re parachute-trained for static line and you’re keen to give free fall a go.’
‘Good to meet you too, Peter. Yes, that’s right but priorities first; what are you drinking?
‘A beer would be good and then I’ll take you through the essentials.’
Settled comfortably with drinks on the table, Peter began. ‘First off would be a one-day ground training exercise that can be done in the camp gymnasium. Friday would be favourite if the gym is free and then early on Sunday, when the skydiving club meets, we’ll get Roger to take us up to an altitude of 1,000 feet.
The Rothman Rapide has a strong point catenary wire onto which our static lines can be attached, so we’ll make one of two static-line jumps. Just so you know, exiting this aircraft requires a twenty-foot static-line strop to clear the plane’s tail. I’m sure you don’t want to lose your head before the canopy automatically deploys. That would not only be very messy but create a whole load of paperwork,’ he said, grinning.
‘Yes, similar to the Hastings, used on my static-line course.’
‘I’m not familiar with that aircraft. Anyway, assuming successful completion of the first our second jump will follow. We’ll then accompany a few of the club’s skydivers up to an altitude of 12,000 feet and I’ll be with you on the first free fall descent. On successful completion we can sit down and discuss any points, concerns or questions you might have.
All being well, one evening next week - Wednesday, would fit in with me - we’ll make another descent from 12,000 feet, just before last light, and after which you’ll be sufficiently qualified for any free fall activities. Does that fit in with your plans?’
‘I’ll be here, with Roger’s blessing of course, until I fly back to Blighty on Friday week, so there’s certainly enough time to perform the jumps. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you putting yourself out like this. A bloody great thank you to you both, and I sincerely hope I get the opportunity to repay the favour in the future. Meantime, whilst I’m still over here, I’d like to treat you to a slap-up meal if it can be mutually arranged. I’ll meet you in the gym on Friday, Peter. What time? 0900 hours OK with you?’
Peter nodded and stood to leave them with handshakes all round. ‘Subject to Roger’s confirmation, I’ll see you Friday,’ and he walked away.
Roger stood up too. ‘If you have any qualms at all I can, without reservation, assure you that Peter is one of the best skydiving trainers in the business. It’ll be a breeze under his guidance. Now, I must get my skates on otherwise I’ll get earache from the wife for being late for dinner. See you in the morning.’
‘Thanks buddy, that’s really reassuring,’ said Bill.
It’d been a great but long day, so he ate in the mess and then made his way to his room, stripped off and sank gratefully onto the bed for a relatively early night.
Chapter 6
Bill woke early, pulled the curtains back, opened the window and looked out on a morning that promised a perfect German autumn day. There was still mist hanging over the camp and a chill in the air, but in a few hours would dissipate, and he was sure the sun would come out. This season had always been his favourite. Autumn had a special smell in the air, whether it was wet or dry and he was pretty sure today was going to be the latter.
He dressed in comfortable civilian clothes, had breakfast, picked up a tourist guide of Detmold from the mess and set off to walk into town to explore the city and do some shopping. As he strolled around he took photos of the historic buildings and architecture, amazed at how many had survived the war.
When he looked at his watch he was surprised to see it was already lunchtime, so he went into a typical German Kaffeehaus and tried to decipher the menu. In the end he chose Bratwurst, der Kohl und der Kartoffelbrei, which turned out to be German sausage, cabbage and mashed potatoes. Surprisingly, it was really good and certainly tastier than the English version.
After a coffee to finish he walked out into the sunshine and meandered in and out of the shops to find suitable presents for his mother and sister, who were never far from his thoughts. He must, must and must write to each of them he promised himself.
It was getting well on into the late afternoon as he made his way back to the camp. He’d agreed arrangements to meet Roger and his new wife Greta that evening, for drinks in the mess. There was time enough, so he spent an hour stretched out on the lounger in his room with the most recent copy of the Daily Telegraph.
On the first anniversary of its independence from the United Kingdom, Prime Minister Milton Obote declared Uganda a republic. The Governor-General, Sir Walter Coutts, stepped down and the Kabaka, the monarch of Buganda - Sir Edward Mutesa II, became the nation’s first President.
Interesting, Bill thought, and then a snippet on the sports page caught his attention.
A pan-African Army Boxing Tournament was being held at the Kings African Rifles camp in Nairobi and one of the visiting and competing teams was going to be the Uganda Military Boxing Team managed by its coach, Major Idi Amin, the Ugandan light heavyweight boxing champion from 1951 to 1960. In fact, his team became East Africa’s military boxing champions of the year.
Having read the headlines, he closed his eyes for about 20 minutes before freshening up with a shower and shave, donning his smart casuals and walking back into the mess dining room to wait for his guests to arrive. He bought a beer, strolled into the lounge, and bagged a comfortable four-seat table close to the window overlooking the illuminated statue of Kaiser Wilhelm. Right on time Roger and Greta arrived and Bill got to his feet to welcome them.
‘Hi, Greta, it’s a pleasure to meet you.’
‘It’s good to meet you too, Bill. I’ve heard a lot about you.’
‘All good I hope.’
‘Of course!’
As they settled with drinks after the usual pleasantries, Greta smiled at Bill.
‘Now, you must tell me more about yourself. I understand from Roger whilst you’re here you’ll be qualifying as a skydiver and Peter Silk’s taking you through your paces. He’s a good friend of ours.’
‘Yes, we start ground training tomorrow. I’m already a qualified military parachutist but I need to take the further qualification because it’s a requirement of my special military role,’ replied Bill.
‘So, am I to interpret you’re some kind of undercover specialist in the work you do and assignments you are engaged in?’
Roger placed a hand on his wife’s knee. ‘He’s not at liberty to discuss it, Greta. He has to abide by the Official Secrets Act.’
Greta blushed. ‘Oh, that was stupid of me, I’m so sorry. I certainly didn’t mean to embarrass you with awkward questions about your work. What’s the saying make sure brain is engaged before opening mouth? I’m a dab hand at that being an army wife.’
‘No problem,’ replied Bill defusing her awkwardness with a grin.
After about two hours, several drinks and chatting about more general subjects covering their two lives, Roger said they had to leave as he had an early take-off in the morning. They all stood, Bill and Roger shook hands and Bill gave Greta a peck on the cheek.
‘It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Greta. Take care of yourself and this guy.’ He gave Roger a playful punch on the shoulder.
‘Good to meet you too, Bill. Now I can put a face to the name. Again, apologies for my faux pas and I do hope we’ll be able to get together some time soon. If there’s time, perhaps you’d like to come for dinner.’
‘Honestly, you didn’t embarrass me. We’re all duty bound to abide by the Official Secrets Act, but there are fine lines when it comes to security levels. I hope I can get back again sometime in the future and join the skydiving club to do more jumps; although it would be more for pleasure than professional necessity. Dinner sounds great if it could be arranged but I think it will probably have to be for next time around, so I’ll take a rain cheque, but thanks anyway and I’ll hold you both to that.’
‘We’ll really look forward to it,’ said Roger.
Bill had thoroughly enjoyed his couple of hours with them. He hadn’t eaten so after finishing dinner headed for his bed, keyed up with anticipation of the coming airborne challenges; albeit not a little tinged with trepidation.
Chapter 7
When Bill left the mess next morning the Beatles latest hit She Loves You was playing quietly over the stereo speakers. He was dressed in sweat suit and sneakers and headed for the gymnasium on the other side of the regimental parade ground to meet Peter Silk.
‘Morning, Bill. Ready for ground training?’
‘Ready as ever. Let’s get started.’
Peter put him through limbering up exercises using the gym equipment: floor mats, parallel bars, wall bars, trestles and some timed circuit training. This lasted well over an hour and then they rested. Although he’d worked up a good sweat, Bill didn’t find the exercises taxing, merely a warm up compared to his usual workout. He sat with Peter on a trestle, breathing quite normally, whilst the salient points of free fall parachuting were explained to him.
‘OK, listen up very carefully. This is paramount! Many of the most recent innovations of free falling come under the heading of free flying; or skilled free falling, often reaching far greater speeds than those experienced by static line parachute drops. We’ll be operating in the flat flying mode, which will involve a high level of control, and it’s important you’re alert to the consideration of other free fallers descending around you, exactly as you would during static line parachuting. OK so far?’
