Should England Fall

by M L Maki

  HARD SHELTER, RAF ALCONBURY

  Two F-14’s take off in a roar as LCDR Frank ‘Thud’ Jackson, XO of the Black Knights, walks up to the jet normally flown by LTJG Pauline ‘Trollop’ Cash. Speedy is already pre-flighting the bird as the ground crew hastily repair bullet holes.

  Swede follows him in, “Thud, you’re not cleared to fly. Your ankle.”

  Thud stops and goes still, then turns in a facing movement, “Swede, today it’s all on the line. I have to fly.”

  Swede walks up and places a hand on each of Thud’s shoulders, “You’re right, Thud. I’ll sort it out with medical and the boss later.”

  “Can we hold?”

  A long silence, then Swede says, “We have to, Thud. We have to. If we lose Britain, we lose the war.”

  CHAPTER 2

  U.S. ARMY, 1ST ARMORED DIVISION CAMP, BELFAST, NORTHERN IRELAND

  81ST Armored Reconnaissance Battalion is in PT gear and running in formation when a jeep rushes by and skids to a stop in front of them. Lt. Colonel Charles J. Hoy yells, “Halt!” and steps forward. “What the hell?”

  A captain stands in the jeep and salutes, “Sir, Division orders, sir. The whole division is shipping out today.”

  “Today? It can’t be done. We have to reload our equipment and the transports are gone.”

  “New ships are pulling in, and sir, the orders are to draw track and personal ammo before loading.”

  “What the fuck is going on, Captain?”

  “The Germans are invading England, sir.” He salutes and peels out.

  Hoy is silent for a moment, then, “Double time to the barracks boys. We got it to do.”

  ‘A’ SABRE SQUADRON, 1ST BATT WELSH GUARDS, 32ND GUARDS BRG, GUARDS DIVISION, BOVINGTON CAMP, SOUTHERN ENGLAND

  Sergeant Andrew Seymour is under his Churchill tank greasing fittings when he hears someone running into the maintenance bay. Sliding out, he sees his top sergeant. The sergeant shouts, “Button them up boys and get yer asses to the armory. We’re moving out!”

  Seymour asks, “What gives, Top?”

  “The Hun is landing at Newcastle. You don’t want to miss the war, do you?”

  2ND PLATOON, ‘A’ CO, 1STOF THE 15TH REGIMENT, US 3RD INFANTRY DIVISION, NEAR PLYMOUTH UK

  Private Andy McDonald lays prone on the grass and sights in his rifle. He fires off a shot then hears a ruckus behind him. The range operator waves a flag for his adjustments and he again adjusts his sights. He feels a kick to his foot. He sets down his rifle and rolls over, “Jesus Christ.”

  “Load up on ammo and get yer ass to the motor pool, Mick. We’re moving out.”

  “Load up, Staff Sergeant?”

  “Are ye hard of hearing? Get a fucking move on, Mick.”

  McDonald grabs his rifle and stands. As he walks to the arming station, the rest of his company is slowly joining him. He turns to the closest man, “Hey Josh, what’s going on?”

  Private Joshua Banner, shrugs, “Beats the hell out of me. Probably another exercise.”

  “For what?”

  “Who knows.”

  They get to the arming station and the guy is issuing full loads of eighty-eight rounds for his Garand rifle. Andy asks, “Sarge, do you know what’s up?”

  “Shut up and move along.”

  As they leave the station, they see their lieutenant standing in a jeep, “2nd Platoon to me!”

  Heading for their lieutenant, McDonald says, “In the Army, odd ain’t good.”

  “Nope.”

  The SSGT starts counting heads, “Jesus Christ and Mary, where the fuck is Brown?”

  “Coming Sergeant!” The smallest guy in the platoon is practically running with a Browning and four boxes of ammo. McDonald runs to help him. The lieutenant waits, then, “The Germans are landing at Newcastle on the north east coast. I’ve a truck to get you back to barracks. Load up and be ready to move out in a half hour.”

  LANCELOT 1, 40,000 FEET, APPROACHING THE INVASION FLEET

  LT John ‘Gunner’ Harden asks his RIO, “Dude, where are they? Can you sort them out?”

  LTJG Wally ‘NOB’ Nelson says, “Got ‘em. Okay, left a bit.” On radio, “Any British aircraft over the fleet identify yourself.”

  “Come on, man.”

  They hear, “Lancelot, Miami, five minutes out. The Krauts are attacking our cruisers.”

  NOB on radio, “Understood, Miami. Volley Fox 3.” To Gunner, “It’s a target rich environment.”

  Gunner fires all four AIM-1 missiles.

  “Lance 1, Lance 2, raid four o’clock high.”

  NOB says, “Two, one, take them.” Then, “Gunner, we got 20 plus at our front.” “Splash three.”

  Some of the ‘262’s turn toward them, but most continue on attacking the burning ships below.

  Gunner says, “Focus on those attacking the ships. Get me lock.”

  “On it.”

  Gunner, “G’s.” and pulls and rolls violently, dodging a missile, then goes inverted, focusing back on the lower jets. He sees the bombs drop.

  “Double Fox 1.”

  Gunner pickles off his two AIM-7 medium range missiles. One tracks on target and a ‘262 goes into the sea. He pulls up and hears the growl of the AIM-9. He triggers it off and it flies right up the tail pipe of another ‘262. The remaining enemy planes pull out and head east. Gunner pulls up and out, instead of going after them, and as he does, he sees tracer rounds where he was, “G’s.”

  NOB shouts, “Fuck man, he came out of the sun!”

  Gunner takes his ’14 vertical and rolls until he can see the FU-279 pulling out of a dive. He sees its wingman rolling in on them and Gunner goes over the top meeting the German plane head to head. They cross and Gunner rolls and pulls expecting the vertical scissors, but the German crosses with his wingman, who is now on their six. “Fuck man. These motherfuckers are getting better.” He pushes his wings forward and engages his airbrake dropping speed and falling beneath the two planes, then dives, picking up airspeed in zone 5.

  NOB, “They’re coming around. Jedi is defensive about 10k up.”

  “Got it.” Gunner goes vertical rolling to see his adversaries, pulls level as they also go vertical, and takes the shot. The lead ‘279 is stitched through the nose and cockpit. Gunner nudges his rudder, still inverted, and takes out the wingman.

  As the two planes fall toward the sea, out of control, “Splash two. Two, one, how are you?”

  LTJG Tyler ‘Stinky’ Lewis, RIO for LT Lorne ‘Jedi’ Luke, says, “Good to go. They bugged out. We put some holes in them, but no joy.”

  “That’s okay, you kept them off us. Thank you.”

  “How many did you get?”

  “Lost count. Fuel state?”

  “Thirty minutes.”

  “Same.” To Gunner, “Dude, the fleet got hammered.”

  Gunner does an aileron roll, “They still are. See the German ships?”

  “Can we hit them?”

  “No, we save our ammo for aircraft. The old British bombers can fuck them up.”

  BASE INFIRMARY, RAF ALCONBURY, UK

  Samantha is waiting alone outside the surgery when a nurse approaches her, “Are you all right, Commodore?”

  “Wh, what?”

  “You’re covered in blood. Come with me.”

  “It’s his blood.”

  “Not all of it. You need to be checked for wounds and shock.” The nurse takes her into an exam room, “No excuses. Now, sit down.” The nurse helps her out of her flight gear and suit which are sticky with blood, and Sam starts shivering. Then she checks Sam’s pulse and blood pressure, “Hmm, 122 over 78, that’s good, but your heart rate is 195 and thready. You’re in shock. It’s mild as your skin is normal, but…” She checks her eyes, “Pupils dilate normally and are responsive.”

  Then the nurse cleans the blood off her skin. When the nurse gets to the back of her left shoulder above the shoulder blade, Sam starts, “What is that?”

  “A small piece of glass,
I think. I’ll remove the glass and get this cleaned up. Do you desire anesthetic? I don’t recommend it.”

  “I’m fine. It just surprised me.”

  An orderly barges in and the nurse goes ramrod stiff, “Mr. Davies, knock first, do you hear me?”

  “My apologies. Commodore, your yeoman is here.” He looks over Sam who is down to her underwear.

  YNC James ‘Radar’ Cooper follows the orderly in. When he sees where the looking, he grabs the guys shoulder and pulls him around. “Control your eyes or lose them, mister. Capiche?”

  Startled, the orderly leaves.

  Cooper shuts the door. “Spike, here are your clean clothes and stuff. Are you alright?”

  The nurse glowers, “Out!”

  Cooper smiles at the nurse, “Please, calm down.” He hands the nurse a green duffle. “Is she okay?”

  “Leave!”

  “Ma’am, England is being invaded as we argue. Admiral Nelson expected everyone to do their duty. I’m doing mine, okay?”

  Still glowering, but relaxing a bit, the nurse replies, “Very well. She has a mild case of shock and has a minor wound on her left shoulder.”

  Sam says, “I can fly, but someone needs to look after Puck.”

  Cooper smiles at her, “I know. I brought Hammond for that.”

  She smiles back, “Thank you, Radar. Give me a minute.”

  He turns and leaves.

  The nurse says, “At least let me fix the damage before you go and hurt yourself again.” She removes the glass from the cut and swabs it with alcohol, then dresses the wound. “I would rather stitch this up, but it’s shallow enough that a dressing will do for now. After you’ve saved the world again, please get stitches, or it will likely scar. Now you may get dressed.” She helps Sam get her clean flight suit on and leaves.

  Once she’s dressed, Sam calls in Cooper. “What’s happening?”

  “Swede has our birds being turned around and relaunched. Yours is shot to hell, again, but they’re working on it. Thud and Lancelot are in the air. Oh, and we have two squadrons of A-10 Warthogs.”

  Sam smiles, “Yeah, good. That’s good.”

  The nurse comes back with a doctor and he says, “Sit.” Unceremoniously he pulls out a light and checks her eyes again. Then, he puts his fingers to her throat and looks at his watch, 96F. Still high. Commodore, I’m grounding you until your shock symptoms clear. You also need to eat.”

  Cooper says, “Let her out of here and I’ll see that she eats, Doc.”

  The doctor turns and looks at Cooper as if he is an insect, then back to Sam, “I’ll check on you in an hour.” He turns on his heel to leave.

  Sam says, “Halt!”

  The doctor stops and turns, stiff.

  “Doctor, I will not fly for an hour. But you are going to check me in the Control Room. England can’t wait.”

  “She can wait an hour, Commodore.”

  “The German’s are landing at Newcastle as we speak. No, she can’t.”

  “I see. I’ll see you in the Control Room in one hour, Commodore. Good day.” He turns and marches out.

  4TH PLATOON, EASY COMPANY, 2ND OF THE 509TH PARACHUTE REGIMENT, AIRFIELD SOUTH ENGLAND

  0743, 23 September, 1942

  PFC Johnny Rodriguez waddles across the tarmac to the transport plane. He’s carrying 53 pounds of jump gear and 70 pounds of mission gear, all needed and necessary. He says to himself, “Generals ask, ‘What does it do?’ Congress asks, ‘How much does it cost?’ Soldiers ask, ‘How much does it weigh?’” His M1919 Browning machine gun in its case just adds to the weight.

  Once they’re all aboard, they sit and the C-130 takes off. In the air the platoon forms up on both sides of the aisle and they do their gear check, each man checking the gear of the man in front of him. PFC Clyde Baker yells, “Hey, Johnny, you remember your timing tool?”

  “I got two, Clyde. One for you to lose.”

  “Just checking. Don’t want you to forget again. I got mine.” He laughs as he finishes checking the guy in front of him.

  “Fuck you, Clyde.”

  Staff Sergeant Sandusky walks the line, checking each soldier, “Relax, Rodriguez. Remember, collapse your chute before you break out the gun. Take your time and get it right. Right is more important than fast.”

  “Got it, Sarge.”

  “We’re liable to be scattered to hell and back. The LT will be up wind. Don’t move until you can fight.”

  “Yes, sir. Thank you.”

  “Just get that MG in action and pay attention to what you’re shooting at.”

  “Roger, Sergeant.”

  “Good man.” He pats Johnny’s shoulder and moves on to the next man.

  A few minutes later the jump master signals for everyone to hook up their static line to the cable running along the top of the fuselage. Fox platoon is hooked up behind them. The light turns green and they shuffle to the ramp. When it’s his turn, Johnny jumps and curls his legs as he was taught.

  In a moment, he feels the chute open and looks around. It’s morning and the clouds are above them and below are fields and farm houses. It is an amazing pastoral setting. Then he sees tracer rounds reaching for them. “Tracers. Shit!”

  The field below him seems to race toward him and he feels horribly exposed. Then he hits the ground and drops to his side, pulling down his canopy. Once it’s bundled, he looks around and sees several German soldiers moving out of a hedge toward him. The Browning takes too long to set up, so he draws his 1911 and carefully aims. The Germans are firing at him. He squeezes the trigger and feels the pistol buck in his hand. The lead German looks startled and blood blossoms on his tunic. Johnny fires again, but the German have taken cover.

  The rest of his platoon are laying covering fire, so he shifts his focus to his Browning. By now he can assemble it drunk and blindfolded. Still, his hands tremble as he fits the pieces together. PFC Danny Todd, takes a knee beside him and cracks off three rounds.

  Johnny says, “Mount.” Danny gives him the tripod for his gun. “Where is Clyde?” He loads the belt and lays behind his gun. He can still see the German he shot.

  “He’s dead, Johnny. Just dead.”

  “Get me his ammo.” He sees a German helmet over the hedge and fires a quick burst. The helmet disappears in a cloud of red. A grenade flies over the hedge and they tuck their heads down as it goes off.

  Johnny raises head and sees about fifteen Germans come over the hedge and run toward them. He opens up on them, falling them like hay from the central valley of California where he is from.

  CONTROL CENTER, RAF ALCONBURY, UK

  Spike walks in, “What do we have?”

  Gunner replies, “Just got in. Swede and BUG are heading out. Thud is coming back. The Germans have shifted focus to the fleet. The Brit’s have one battleship, four cruisers, and eight destroyers sunk. We have lost two cruisers and three destroyers. The Germans have lost two cruisers. The airborne unit just landed near the beach and everything army is scrambling. We have four A-10s working over the beach.”

  “Tell me about the A-10s?”

  “We have a Marine and a Navy squadron on station. Twelve planes each, and they work for you, Commodore.”

  She sits, “Okay. I see. Without interfering with their flight schedule, I want to meet the commanders as soon as possible.”

  “Roger that, Commodore. Ma’am, are you okay?”

  “A scratch. Where is Percival 1?”

  “They’re still at RAF Ouston loading their bird on a truck.”

  “Are they injured?”

  “No, Spike.”

  “Send a helicopter with a couple of AD’s to escort the bird and get them back here.”

  “Roger.”

  Under her breath, “Pappa, I need you.”

  She looks over the table below her. It shows the location of all friendly and enemy aircraft.

  LT Shawn ‘Lizard’ Todd walks in, “Request to enter and speak.” She smiles and motions him in. “Ma’am, how
is Puck?”

  “When I left, he was still in surgery.”

  “Then you need a RIO?”

  “No, Lizard, I have you. What’s the status of our bird?”

  “It’s pretty fucked up, ma’am. They’ve pulled the wings. A 20 mike was lodged in the mechanism. They’ve dropped the engines. It’s coming along.”

  “Thank you, Lizard. Understand, I don’t have time to take care of it. The bird falls to you.”

  “It was the same for Pappa.”

  She closes her eyes, remembering, then, “I know.” Taking a deep breath, “We’ll work it out, and Lizard, please don’t call me ma’am.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Um. Sorry.”

  She smiles as he turns red then leaves. She looks back at the board and the smile disappears. “Tell Galahad to orbit 40 miles south west of point Bravo. At that location he can intercept aircraft attacking land or fleet.”

  CARGO QUAY, NORTH SHIELD, ENGLAND

  The SS Ceuta slows as it comes to the quay. German soldiers are on the upper works with guns and sailors are scrambling from small boats to receive lines. “Engine stop.”

  “Engines stop, aye.”

  “Back slow.”

  Back slow, aye.”

  “Throw heaving lines.”

  The word is passed and his sailors heave over the messenger lines that will pass and haul in the mooring lines.

  There is no one to be seen. No people on the streets or on the quay. Then the Captain hears a thrumming roar and looks up. The SS Thalia behind them in the river lights with sparks as a strange jet dives on it. Flames spews from the nose of the plane as it fires.

  He orders, “Open the elevator hatches, turn on the cargo vents, and run out the landing ramps. We need to unload as fast as possible.”

  EAST RIDING OF YORKSHIRE YEOMANRY, CATTERICK CAMP, NORTH YORKSHIRE, UK

  0802, 23 September, 1942

  Trooper David Preacher is under his Covenanter tank with a grease gun lubricating the fittings when he hears his troop Sergeant shouting. He slides out from under the tank, forgetting the grease gun, “What, Sarge?”

  “Preacher, get your arse in the driver’s seat and get your tank to the armory, now!”