*
The little boy was still as death, but he wasn't dead; Jerry could feel his heartbeat, thumping fast against his own chest. It was all he could feel. Poor little bugger must have had his wind knocked out.
People had stopped screaming, but there was still shouting, calling out. There was a strange silence underneath all the racket. His blood had stopped pounding through his head, his own heart no longer hammering. Perhaps that was it.
The silence underneath felt alive, somehow. Peaceful, but like sunlight on water, moving, glittering. He could still hear the noises above the silence, feet running, anxious voices, bangs and creakings--but he was sinking gently into the silence; the noises grew distant, though he could still hear voices.
'Is that one--?'
'Nay, he's gone--look at his head, poor chap, caved in something horrid. The boy's well enough, I think, just bumps and scratches. Here, lad, come up ... no, no, let go, now. It's all right, just let go. Let me pick you up, yes, that's good, it's all right now, hush, hush, there's a good boy ...'
'What a look on that bloke's face. I never saw anything like--'
'Here, take the little chap. I'll see if the bloke's got any identification.'
'Come on, big man, yeah, that's it, that's it, come with me. Hush, now, it's all right, it's all right ... is that your daddy, then?'
'No tags, no service book. Funny, that. He's RAF, though, isn't he? AWOL, d'ye think?'
He could hear Dolly laughing at that, felt her hand stroke his hair. He smiled and turned his head to see her smiling back, the radiant joy spreading round her like rings in shining water ...
'Rafe! The rest of it's going! Run! Run!
To the RAF flyers: "Never have so many
owed so much to so few."
Author's Notes
Before y'all get tangled up in your underwear about it being All Hallows' Eve when Jeremiah leaves, and 'nearly Samhain' (aka All Hallows' Eve) when he returns--bear in mind that Great Britain changed from the Julian to the Gregorian calendar in 1752, this resulting in a 'loss' of twelve days. And for those of you who'd like to know more about the two men who rescue him, more of their story can be found in An Echo in the Bone.
'Never have so many owed so much to so few.' This was Winston Churchill's acknowledgement to the RAF pilots who protected Britain during World War II--and he was about right.
Adolph Gysbert Malan--known as Sailor (probably because Adolph was not a popular name at the time)--was a South African flying ace who became the leader of the famous No. 74 Squadron RAF. He was known for sending German bomber pilots home with dead crews, to demoralise the Luftwaffe, and I would have mentioned this gruesomely fascinating detail in the story, had there been any good way of getting it in, but there wasn't. His Ten Commandments for Air Fighting are as given in the text.
While the mission that Captain Frank Randall recruits Jerry MacKenzie for is fictional, the situation wasn't. The Nazis did have labour camps in Poland long before anyone in the rest of Europe became aware of them, and the eventual revelation did much to rally anti-Nazi feeling.
I'd like particularly to acknowledge the assistance of Maria Szybek in the delicate matter of Polish vulgarities (any errors in grammar, spelling, or accent marks are entirely mine), and of Douglas Watkins in the technical descriptions of small-plane maneuvers (also the valuable suggestion of the malfunction that brought Jerry's Spitfire down).
About the Author
DIANA GABALDON is the New York Times bestselling author of the wildly popular Outlander novels, Outlander, Dragonfly in Amber, Voyager, Drums of Autumn, The Fiery Cross, A Breath of Snow and Ashes (for which she won a Quill Award and the Corine International Book Prize), An Echo in the Bone, and the forthcoming, Written in My Own Heart's Blood, and one work of nonfiction, The Outlandish Companion, as well as the bestselling series featuring Lord John Grey, a character she introduced in Voyager. She lives in Scottsdale, Arizona.
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