Flight of Eagles, page 24
‘Tarquin’s gone, Zec, the Lysander fireballed just after I got out.’
‘I’m truly sorry about that.’
Julie appeared in the kitchen door. ‘That’s terrible.’
‘That’s life,’ Max continued. ‘They took me to Château Morlaix. My face was battered in the crash, the original scar had burst but they had a good doctor there. He stitched me up again. They didn’t treat me too badly. It was just chance that an SS Panzer unit had moved in to the château.’
‘Then what?’ Julie asked.
‘They had word that I was to be shipped out to Berlin. There’s a Luftwaffe feeder station just outside the village and they were sending a plane.’ He was warming to his story. ‘I realized that once that happened, I was finished. The escape was just an absurd chance and very simple. I’d been dining late with the commandant and said I didn’t feel very well, so the doctor gave me a box of morphine ampoules. There was a guard on my door, of course. I pretended to go to bed, lay there thinking about it and decided to make a break sometime after three. The bathroom was very old fashioned, with a French window leading to a terrace and steps down.’
‘And no guard?’ Zec asked.
‘Prowler guards in the grounds, that’s all. I simply went down the steps, turned the corner and there was a Kübelwagen, the driver standing beside it, smoking a cigarette. I picked up a half brick from the edge of a flower bed and struck him on the head from behind. That’s where I got the Walther. I slipped on his military raincoat and sidecap and drove away.’
Julie brought in a dish of eggs, bacon and toast. She put it on one of the tables. ‘Come and get it.’ She sat down. ‘What happened then?’
‘I drove up to the airstrip at Morlaix. It’s no big deal. Rather like Cold Harbour, but the runway’s very long. You could get most things in.’ He was eating now and enjoying the eggs and bacon. ‘Anyway, there was an ME 109 in one of the hangars and a Storch parked on the apron. It was raining heavily, no sign of guards. I suppose they were all sheltering in the hangars. I drove up to the Storch, got out and opened the door. According to the fuel gauge, she was full. Then the sentry appeared, running across the apron, so I shot him. I got in, switched on and did the quickest take-off of my life. Two other sentries appeared and sprayed me with their Schmeissers, but no great harm and here I am.’ He’d finished his breakfast and sat back. ‘All I need now is a great cup of coffee.’
‘Coffee?’ Julie said as she stacked the plates on the way. ‘I thought you’d switched to tea.’
Mistake number two.
Max grinned. ‘All I’ve had since last Friday is coffee, Julie. The SS has never heard of tea, but you’re right. Back to tea it is.’
Up at the manor, he played it very carefully and allowed himself to be taken by Julie to the room Harry had been using previously. He accomplished this by pretending not to feel so good.
‘My face hurts like hell. I think I need an injection.’
She took his hand at the top of the stairs and led him straight to the bedroom. He put the military coat on the bed and got out the battle pack Schroeder had given him.
‘Here, let me.’ Julie snapped off the end of the ampoule. He took off his tunic and she jabbed it into his arm. ‘Your slacks aren’t too good,’ she said. ‘There’s a twelve-inch rip in the left leg. Let’s see what I’ve got in the supply room.’
Supply room. Yes, Harry had mentioned that.
Max said, ‘I’ll come with you.’
He was astonished by all the uniforms, the weaponry, but managed not to show it. Julie went through the stand and found a pair of khaki slacks.
‘British Army, officers for the use of.’ She handed them to him. ‘They’ll do until you get to Haston Place. You must have a spare uniform there.’
Haston Place. Number three. Basement flat with Carter downstairs. Munro’s bedroom on the right at the top of the stairs, Molly next to him and Harry third door along by the windows. Sitting room opposite the head of the stairs. SOE headquarters ten minutes away in Baker Street.
Max said, ‘Oh, I’ve got dozens. I’ll go and change.’
‘I’ll see you in the library.’
He descended the broad stairs ten minutes later. Library to the left, dining room to the right, kitchen through green baize door. He found Julie by the fire, piling on logs. She had a look at him.
‘That’s better. How do you feel?’
‘Much better. The morphine acts very quickly.’
‘Not too much, we don’t want you to end up like some Victorian poet, totally hooked.’
‘I’ve only ever been addicted to one thing in my life, flying.’
‘Yes, we all know that. I’ve got to go down to the pub and put the pies in the oven for the crew’s lunch. I suppose you’d like to take it easy?’
‘I’ve never taken it easy in my life, Julie, I’ll come with you. I could do with a stroll to clear my head.’
‘We’ll drive down and walk on the beach later. You’ll need your raincoat.’
‘Yes, I’ll go and get it.’
In the bedroom, he draped the coat over his shoulders, the Walther heavy in the right-hand pocket. He took it out and debated whether to leave it and yet there was something reassuring about the weight. He replaced it in his pocket and went downstairs. As he reached the bottom, Julie came out of the library, wearing an old raincoat and beret.
‘You look very French this morning.’
‘So I should. I’ve just had a call from Munro. He’s just about to leave in a Lysander. He’s got Jack with him. Molly wanted to come, but she has a heavy operating schedule this morning.’
Strange, the feeling of relief.
Max said, ‘I’ll see her soon enough.’
Julie took his arm. ‘That’s no way to be, Harry Kelso, you should be straining at the leash. Men.’ She shrugged. ‘I don’t know. No romance at all. Come on, let’s go.’
Zec and the crew were working in the lifeboat. Max stood on the edge of the quay, looking down, and they called up to him. ‘Great to have you back, Colonel,’ cried one and another, huge and with tangled hair and beard, said, ‘Sorry about Tarquin.’
Strange that. In the pub, he went behind the bar and helped himself to two packets of Players cigarettes. He lit one and leaned in the doorway watching Julie at work. She put a tray of pies in the oven and closed the door.
‘That’s it.’ She turned. ‘All right, let’s have that walk.’
The tide was in, but there was plenty of sand at the foot of the cliffs and sand dunes by the headland tufted with coarse grass.
‘How do you feel now?’ she asked.
‘Much better. Why do you ask?’
‘Oh, you seem a little subdued, that’s all.’
He managed a smile. ‘I don’t believe there is such a word, but I think we could say it was a subduing experience.’
‘Silly of me.’ She slipped her arm through his and they continued.
And he was grateful for this, the contact with this woman and the fact that she had accepted him and that Zec Acland and his men had. It gave him confidence, a chance to catch his breath. And Eisenhower and the purpose of his being here? He pushed that thought as far away as possible.
They sat on some decaying wood pilings. Julie said, ‘Would you marry Molly, Harry?’
‘If she’d have me, you mean?’ He laughed.
‘Oh, she’d have you all right.’
‘I don’t think people should marry when there’s a war on, especially someone like me. That Lysander crash, for example. I was damn lucky to survive. In fact, I shouldn’t have survived as long as I have. Flying’s a hazardous sport, Julie.’
‘Not for you, it isn’t, not any more.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I’d be amazed if they ever allow you to fly again. You’re grounded, Harry. That’s my opinion, anyway. As they tell prisoners, for you the war is over.’
He sat there thinking about it. ‘It could be, I suppose, we’ll see,’ and then a Lysander swept in from the sea.
She jumped up. ‘There goes Munro. We’d better get back.’
In the library beside the fire with Julie serving tea and sandwiches, Munro and Jack Carter sat opposite Max and listened intently as he told them the same story he’d given Julie and Zec.
When he was finished, Munro said, ‘Amazing.’
Jack said, ‘Jacaud told us in his first report about this SS Panzer unit arriving unexpectedly to take over the château.’
‘Lucky for me they were there,’ Max said. ‘I’d have burned in that crash. Couldn’t Jacaud come up with any more information?’
‘Not possible,’ Munro said. ‘His report said the SS had the château, the village and the surrounding area wrapped up tight.’
‘His second report did mention a JU 52 landing at the airstrip, if you recall, sir,’ Jack reminded him. ‘But no one could get close enough to see what was going on.’
‘Oh, I can tell you that,’ Max said. ‘Major Müller, the commandant, told me they were dropping off replacement engines for two of his tanks.’
‘Poor Müller,’ Munro said. ‘This isn’t going to look good on his record at all. Anyway, finish your sandwiches and it’s Croydon next stop. I rang Teddy West.’
Air Vice Marshal West and no photo.
‘How is he?’ Max asked.
‘Ecstatic. He’s flying up from Southwick House to join Eisenhower at Hayes Lodge. I’ve left it to him to break the good news to the Supreme Commander. I’m sure Ike will want to see you himself.’
‘I look forward to it,’ Max said.
Munro stood up. ‘Great to have you back, Harry, even if you do look as if a truck’s run over your face. Molly sends her love. I thought we’d dine at the River Room tonight, she’ll be free then. We’ll invite her father. Make a party of it. Celebrate your return from the dead.’
‘Sounds good to me,’ Max said.
‘Right, then let’s get moving.’
Rosa Stein had slept for at least twelve hours, the sleep of utter exhaustion. When she finally awakened, rain still thundered against the roof. She got up, went to the entrance and peered out. The forest was draped with mist, but the track, of course, was clearly visible. The trouble was she had no idea where she was, no sense of direction. She supposed she could stay where she was for a while – at least it was dry and warm. She cupped her hands to catch rainwater gushing from a spout, drank then bathed her face.
She couldn’t get the memory of those dreadful events at the hunting lodge out of her mind. It was a nightmare. She started to weep uncontrollably, went back to the pile of hay and lay down. After a while she fell asleep again.
When they landed at Croydon, it was early afternoon and again Max was saved by chance for, as he assisted Jack Carter out of the Lysander, the major said, ‘Air Vice Marshal West over there, sir.’
Max turned as Munro went to meet West. ‘Well, here he is, Teddy. I’m afraid his face looks like one of the ruins that Cromwell knocked about a bit, but you can’t have everything.’
West actually hugged Max. ‘You young bastard, don’t you ever frighten me like that again.’
‘I’ll do my best, sir,’ Max replied.
‘Dammit, we’ll be running out of medals.’
Munro said, ‘We’re dining at the River Room tonight, Molly and her father, Jack and myself. Why not join us?’
‘I’ll do my best. Splendid idea, but for the moment I’ll have to love you and leave you. I’m due to see Ike at Hayes Lodge. You can drop me off.’
‘Our pleasure,’ Munro said and led the way.
At Haston Place, Max found Harry’s bedroom with no trouble. He dropped his military raincoat on the bed and checked the wardrobe. The extra uniforms hung neatly there, shirts and socks on the shelves, spare shoes.
There was a knock at the door and Carter looked in. ‘The Brigadier’s gone off to Baker Street, but he’s asked me to drop you off at Guy’s Hospital. He wants Molly to check you over. Frankly, he’s horrified at the state of your face. He’s right, Harry. You could have a hairline fracture or something.’
‘When do we go?’
‘It’s got to be now. Molly’s due in theatre at four-thirty. She’ll make her own way to the River Room.’
‘Fine, I’ll have time to come back here and change into a fresh uniform later.’
‘Bags of time, old chap.’
‘Let’s go then.’
Casualty at Guy’s was as busy as usual. Jack led the way to the reception desk. ‘Colonel Kelso for Doctor Sobel. He’s expected.’
‘That’s right, Major.’ The receptionist picked up the phone. ‘Colonel Kelso’s here.’ She replaced it. ‘That was X-ray. Someone will be along in a minute.’
And a minute it was. A young man in a white coat appeared, one eye obviously glass, the surrounding area badly damaged.
‘Colonel Kelso? We are in a mess. This way, sir.’ He smiled beautifully at Carter. ‘You can come if you want, love.’ He noticed the major’s leg. ‘Dear me, we are three crocks, aren’t we? My name’s Walker, by the way.’
‘Where did you get yours?’ Max asked.
‘Lancaster over Berlin. I was a rear-gunner. Into my second tour and I got a shell splinter in the face. I tell you, love, I must have been mad.’
‘Aren’t we all.’
Walker looked at his medals. ‘But you particularly, if you don’t mind me saying so. In here,’ and he opened a door.
Max lay on a table and did as he was told and Jack Carter sat in the corner. Walker took his pictures, whistling cheerfully, then vanished through another door. He was back in ten minutes, holding the X-rays.
‘No fractures, Colonel, everything normal except for your face looking like a side of raw meat. I’ll take you to Doctor Sobel now.’ As they walked down the corridor, he said, ‘I love your uniform and those RAF wings. You were a Yank in the RAF, weren’t you?’
‘That’s right,’ Max said.
‘I saw the movie with Tyrone Power. A right load of old cobblers, but he was lovely, mind you.’ Max tried not to laugh and Jack was obviously having similar difficulties. Walker opened a door. ‘In here.’
Molly in a white coat, a stethoscope around her neck, sat behind a desk. She jumped up. ‘My God, Harry.’
‘Oh, so that’s the way it is,’ Walker said and put the X-rays on the desk. ‘He’s okay, Doc, no fracture. I didn’t remove his plaster because I didn’t need to.’ He turned. ‘All the best, gentlemen, but take my advice and stay out of Berlin airspace.’
He went out and Jack said, ‘I’ll go and wait at reception.’
‘No need,’ Max told him.
‘No, I’d rather, old chap.’
Carter limped out and Max said, ‘He loves you, I think.’
‘And I love you, Harry Kelso.’ She came round the desk and flung her arms around him.
‘Careful, love. I’ll have to go easy on the passion, I’m afraid. I’m in considerable pain unless I take morphine.’
‘What strength?’
‘I don’t know. My SS surgeon gave me one of their battle packs. It’s at Haston Place.’
‘Don’t take any more until I’ve checked it.’ Suddenly she hammered at his chest with clenched fists. ‘Don’t you do that to me again. Never again. I’ve been in hell.’
He held her close and stroked her hair. ‘I’m sorry.’ He kissed her forehead gently.
She pulled away. ‘What’s this?’ There was a slight frown on her face. ‘Tenderness, romance from the great Harry Kelso?’
Max said smoothly, ‘You know what they say in the movies? It was hell out there. Perhaps it’s produced a new me.’
‘I’ll believe that when it happens.’
She got the X-rays, put them on the screen and switched on the light. After a while, she nodded. ‘No fracture.’ She turned. ‘Tell me what happened.’
Which he did, sticking to the same story about the wound bursting on impact. She sat him down, turned the light of a desk lamp on his face. ‘Just like last time, there’s only one way, the quick way.’
She ripped the plaster away and Max sucked in his breath. ‘Mein Gott!’ he said and in the same moment, realized his blunder. ‘We always used to say that, me and Max, when we were kids, because Mutti thought it was blasphemous.’
She accepted it totally and inspected the stitching. ‘This is good work.’ Which was exactly what Schroeder had said to Harry at Morlaix.
Max said, ‘I’m glad to hear it.’
‘Just like last time, I don’t want you to wear a plaster. I’ll spray it again.’ Which she did and mopped up the excess with cotton wool. ‘Who’s a good boy, then?’
‘Only for you.’
‘You’ll have to go now. I’ve a rather tricky operation coming up. I’ll see you later at the River Room. Good food and wine, Carrol Gibbons to dance to.’ She hugged him fiercely. ‘I never thought I’d have that again. The only trouble is I won’t have time to go home and put on a decent frock.’
‘Just bring yourself,’ Max told her. ‘That will do just fine.’
At six, back in his room, Max took a chance and rang Sarah Dixon’s number. It seemed reasonable to assume that she would get home from the office round about now, but there was no reply. He changed into a fresh uniform and checked himself in the mirror.
‘Very nice, Harry,’ he murmured. ‘Almost as good as ours.’
When he went into the sitting room, Jack Carter was pouring a whisky at the sideboard. ‘Want one, Harry?’
Munro entered in full uniform. ‘I’ll have one of those. My God, Harry, that face of yours would frighten a regiment.’ He took his whisky down in one swallow. ‘Come on then, early meal tonight. I’ve a lot on tomorrow.’
At the River Room, they had a circular table at the window and Munro ordered champagne for himself, Harry, Carter and West, while they waited for Molly and her father.
‘To you, Harry.’ Munro raised his glass. ‘I should think you’ve used up your nine lives.’
‘We’ll see,’ Max said.
‘No, we won’t,’ West told him. ‘You’re grounded by Ike’s direct order. You’re finished in the air.’
