by M L Maki
Asahi says, “This is a huge secret you trust us with. Why now?”
“Because, I hope to escape and wish to take both of you with me.”
Asahi asks, “But, how will we be treated in America?”
Chris grins, “You’re the family of a naval officer. There I can provide a decent home and a future. In time, you will acquire another teaching position if you wish, or return to Japan after the war.”
Fukue asks, “Your real name isn’t Genzo?”
“My grandfather in Kobe called me Genzo. He owned a small fishing boat and I would go out with him when we’d come to visit. My father was an engineer with Apple. I grew up in San Francisco. We had a sail boat at Oyster Point and I’d practically live on it during the summer.
Fukue asks, “What did your mother do?”
Chris face becomes solemn, “She raised me and my two sisters. She took care of her home like the Japanese culture expects. She should have taught interior design. It was her passion. Fukue, things are going to change. I love you and I want you as my wife, but I want you to chase your dreams, too. I will support you.”
COMMODORE’S BEDROOM, RAF KENLEY
0230, 6 October, 1942
Sam starts awake. She hears her phone ring again and answers it, “Hunt.” She looks at the clock, 0230. “Commodore, a major attack from multiple directions.”
“Make my plane ready.” She hangs up and dresses in her flight suit and gear. She hears the roar of ready 5 launching. As she walks into her office, she hears two A-10s launch, followed by two more F-14s. She climbs into the Beaverette armored car and tells the driver, “My plane.”
MAJOR GUNTER’S SQUADRON, IRISH SEA
Finally, they are properly attacking the Americans. He pulls back on his stick and sees the flash of a missile launch in the distance. He turns on the jamming pod mounted on one of his missile pylons and looks at his radar trying to find the British radar plane. He sees several blips closing his aircraft and one turning south. He focuses his reticule on the plane flying away south and fires two missiles. Then, he switches his focus to the British fighters. One of them goes away, hit by another German missile. He dives, firing his gun on another fighter, smiling when his rounds hit. In the distance, he sees his missiles hit the radar plane. He blasts past the falling Griffin and turns toward Wales.
FU-279, 3000 FEET OVER NORMANDY
Oberst Albrecht Meyer flies his FU-279 immediately behind two V-1 missiles. With him are forty-eight Focke-Wulf fighters. They are nearly all of the advanced fighters Germany has left. They’re following a total of ninety V-1s, all at the same altitude. A Junkers JU-88 equipped with radar is watching for the enemy.
The V-1s are following a radar beam, when they cross another beam from Brittany, they will fall on their targets. In the distance he sees the flames of missile launches. By now, they’re over the English Channel, and they’re under attack from British fighters. Several of the V-1s are hit and fall into the sea.
On radio he says, “Now!” The ‘279s pull above the V-1s and fire a barrage of anti-aircraft missiles. Seven British fighters are blotted out of the sky. As they pass over the chalk cliffs of Dover, they’re fired upon by ack-ack and anti-air missiles. They lose planes, but continue on, dodging the curtain of anti-air fire.
Then, the ‘279s peel off on their bomb runs. Meyer on radio, “Remember, only south of the Thames. Focus on bombing first. Afterburners on.” They all light up their ‘burners and scream toward London.
The V-1s drop. Some have high explosive warheads, but most contain napalm.
ARTHUR 1, TAKING OFF FROM RAF KENLEY
Spike cleans up her ’14, climbing for altitude. Explosions light up the sky, “Give me targets, Lizard.”
“It’s a mess, Boss. Okay, right.”
She turns her bird. The radio chatter is edged with panic. Spotting a FU-279 between her and the fire, she turns after it, “Grunt.”
She watches it drop it ordinance just as she fires a Sidewinder. The heat seeking missile tracks toward the German, but veers off and explodes in a fire on the ground. She switches to guns and gets the line as the German starts climbing out. She puts her rounds behind the cockpit and straight through it, and the bomber rolls left and spins into the inferno below.
She pulls up, going for altitude, “Grunt.” She keys the radio, “Calm, people. Use the fire below to silhouette your targets.”
ARTHUR 2, TAKING OFF FROM KENLEY
No-No pours on full burners, feeling the thrust at his back. Down runway a napalm bomb detonates, spreading burning liquid everywhere. “Hang on.” He rotates early and the big fighter claws its way into the sky, blasting and scattering napalm. As he cleans up the aircraft, he sees tracer fired coming at them. He steepens the climb, then stands the ’14 on its tail, but with a full missile load and full tanks, his plane slows. The German plane shoots by him and Von pushes the stick forward, “Come on, baby. Come on.”
Robot, “400 feet. 300 feet. 200 feet.”
Gradually, No-No gets her under control and they pick up airspeed. A stream of tracers passes in front of them, missing by feet. Finally, the big plane picks up speed and Von goes after the German. He fires a sidewinder and it goes into a burning building. He follows the ‘279 in its climb and when he’s reflected in the fire below, fires another Sidewinder. It flies true, right into the German’s right engine.
ARTHUR 1
Spike spots another ‘279 and fires a Sidewinder, taking it right up it’s right engine. They pull up, grabbing for more altitude and tracer rounds pass beneath them. “Where is he?”
“High, right, crossing.”
“Roger.” She climbs higher, spins, and levels out, right onto the German’s six. He pulls up in a right yo-yo and she follows, bleeding energy. The German dives out of the yo-yo, attempting to speed away. She turns into the dive, putting her plane on its right wing, lowers the nose and fires her gun. Her rounds hit the plane’s engines and they detonate, pitching the plane forward and down into the conflagration below.
GAWAIN 2, 3000 FEET, IN THE FIGHT OVER LONDON
ENS Mical Degraaff and ENS Steve Ulhe look for their wingman, “Where’s Thud?”
Ulhe, “I can’t see. It’s a mess.”
She turns and sees a ‘279. She adjusts and goes into a shallow dive, firing her gun. Her rounds just graze the enemy’s nose and he pulls up. “Gs.” She climbs after him and hears the growl of the AIM-9 and pickle it off. It drives right up the ‘279s engine and explodes. The ‘279 goes into a spin, then flips, as a wing breaks off. The pilot ejects.
Uhle, “We got one on us.” DeGraaff pushes on the throttles and lowers her nose, pulling right to miss a church steeple. “He’s still on us, Mic. Break right.”
Mic breaks, turning steeply right, them climbs into a yo-yo. “He’s still on us. Missile incoming.”
She pickles off countermeasures and pulls up violently, “Gs, man.” They’re hit on the top rear of their fuselage and they go inverted. Mike rolls upright, and the ‘279 passes right in front of her. She fires her gun barely hitting hits vertical stabilizer.
Their plane is losing altitude rapidly, her throttles wide open, but there’s no power. “Steve, we’re going down!”
Uhle, “Gawain 2 is hit. Eject. Eject.” He pulls the eject rings and blacks out as they shoot out of the aircraft into the night sky.
GAWAIN 1, 1000 FEET IN THE FIGHT
Thud, “Where are they?”
Speedy, “Behind us somewhere. Another ‘279 on our six.”
Thud, “Grunt.” He pulls the stick back, hard, leaving controlled flight, his nose going up, then back. Inverted, he hits the German plane with a burst from his gun, rolls level, and climbs out on afterburners, gaining airspeed and controlled flight, leveling off at 200 feet. Below them is hell. South of the Thames, London is burning. Thud climbs for altitude, “Find me something to kill.”
“Looking. They’re bugging out east.”
Thud goes to afterburners, again, racing ea
st.
ALLIED HEADQUARTERS, BUSHY PARK
Eisenhower walks out of his headquarters building carrying files in a box. The building is on fire from a napalm hit. He pauses on the steps. The entire horizon is on fire. The acrid smell of napalm and burning buildings is nearly overwhelming. He walks down the steps and gets into his car and puts the box next to him. His driver, Kay Summersby, asks, “Where?”
“First, Kenley.”
She slides their car into the line of trucks and cars streaming south.
GAWAIN 2
ENS Steve Uhle lands in the Thames upstream of the Tower Bridge. He struggles with his chute and manages to get clear. Their jet landed downstream. It missed the Tower Bridge by mere feet. He sees his pilot swinging from a tree on the south bank. The entire sky behind her on fire. He swims to shore and runs down the embankment to the tree. Fire tops a nearby roof as the building collapses. The heat flays his face and raises steam off his wet clothes. He starts climbing the tree.
Mical shouts, “I got it.”
There’s an explosion close by and flaming debris falls around them. The top of their tree catches fires. She’s stopped cutting the shrouds and is slapping at her burning clothes. He gets to her and grabs her around the waist, “Keep cutting! I got you!”
She cuts the last shroud and slumps into his arms. His hands are sticky with blood. She grabs the tree, “Let go. I can get down.”
When they are down, they look at each other and turn to jump into the river, swimming for the Tower of London.
GALAHAD FLIGHT
Swede and Pappy race south down the English Channel. Swede, “Brother, what do you see?”
Gandhi, “It’s a fur ball over London. There isn’t a clean shot.”
“Okay, can we hit them exiting?”
“Maybe.” On radio, “Arthur, Galahad. We’re south bound at high mach. Please advise.”
“Galahad, Arthur, welcome to the fight. I hope your knife is sharp.”
Gandhi, “Roger, Arthur. Three mikes out.”
Then they hear GQ, “Galahad, some are bugging out east.”
PERCIVAL 1, IN THE FIGHT
Hot Pants, “Hold on!” She rolls into a tight turn and fires her gun, hitting a ‘279 as it flashes by. The German’s engine explodes. They feel the shudder of rounds hitting their bird. “Fuck no!” and pulls hard for altitude. “Gs.” She spins and rolls over the top at 400 feet. “Come on, motherfucker.” She rolls upright and fires, hitting her adversary. It inverts and augers in.
GQ, “We’re low, sister.”
“I know. Shit, I know.” She levels off above the rooftops of west London, flying at only 200 knots. She lights her afterburners and tries for altitude and her plane starts pulling to the left. “We have some issues, GQ.” She keeps her plane in a slow climb.
PERCIVAL 2, 200 FEET, WEST OF LONDON
LT Pauline ‘Trollop’ Cash asks, “Mouse, where’s Hot Pants?”
ENS Julie ‘Mouse’ Mulligan, “I don’t know. Fuck. Climb. Select AIM-1s.” On radio, “All units, Percival 2. Raid warning west. Nine bandits.”
“Percival 2, Arthur, engage. We’ll come as soon as we can.”
Mouse, “Arthur, Percival 2. Roger.” On intercom, “I’ve good lock. Four.”
Trollop, “Volley Fox 3,” and fires all four of their long-range missiles.
Mouse, “They’re firing. On the deck.”
Trollop inverts and fires countermeasures. They level out at 100 feet and the German missiles lose lock in the ground clutter. Trollop, “Shit! Gs!” She pulls up violently, barely missing the tower of Windsor Castle.
Mouse, “Two hits. Seven left. They’re boring in.”
“Okay, we’re going to pop under them. Altitude?”
“They’re at 4K, 20 miles.”
“Great. Hang on.” She lights her burners and climbs nearly vertical, then levels off to acquire.
Mouse, “Double Fox 1.”
Trollop pickles off two AIM-7s and both missiles hit their targets.
Mouse, “Guns. Break left! Break left!”
Trollop, firing blind, hits a ‘262 that explodes in front of them. She misses the German by a few feet, the bottom of their plane peppered by shrapnel as they skin by.
MAJOR GUNTER’S ‘262, WEST OF LONDON
Gunter, “Red flight, time to go home. Report.”
His three remaining ‘262s join with him and they fly north at high speed.
PERCIVAL 1 OVER WEST LONDON
Hot Pants, “It looks ugly down there.”
GQ, “I’m looking for a place to land.”
“I got good engines. I think the slats are gone on our left wing, but we’re flying okay. We’re bleeding hydraulic fluid from system 2. One is holding. And, we’re bleeding fuel.”
“GQ, “So, overall, a good day.”
“Yep. Shit. Fire warning. Pulling 2.”
GQ looks over his shoulder, “Um, hate to give bad news, but we’re on fire.”
“Pulling 1.”
“Gloria, it’s time to leave.”
“You’re right.” She levels the wings and points her bird at a dark patch of ground, “Okay.”
GQ, “Percival 1 is punching out over west London.” He pulls the ejection handles and they separate from their bird.
FIRE BOAT, THAMES RIVER NEAR WESTMINSTER
Three fire monitors spray water from the Thames onto the buildings on the south bank. The buildings are silhouetted by the flames behind, some of the windows are bright orange eyes glaring out over the city. They are deafened by the roar of the fires; the very air being sucked from the lungs by the heat.
The captain shouts, “Up river!” A pool of burning napalm is floating on the river. The forward fire monitors spray down the floating pool of flame, which scatters it, but does not put it out. They redirect their hoses and spray at the front of the pool, pushing it toward the south bank and away from Westminster.
GALAHAD FLIGHT, 25,000 FEET, NORTH EAST OF DOVER
Gandhi, “Okay, brother Swede. I have good lock and good ID.” On radio, “Pappy, volley Fox 3.”
The two F/A-14s fire six AIM-1 Long Bow missiles at the retreating FU-279 fighters. Four German planes are blotted out of the air.
Gandhi, “Three are turning toward us.”
Swede, “Well, let’s thank them for their efforts.”
Gandhi, “Lock.”
Swede, “Fox 1, Fox 1.” The two missiles track towards their target. One is lost in countermeasures and the other flies true, destroying its target.
Both of Pappy’s missiles miss and the four jets merge at a combined speed of 2000 mile per hour.
Swede, “Gs,” pulling up and taking his engines off afterburner.
Gandhi, “I can’t see shit. Hang on.” They invert as they slow and Gandhi says, “Pappy broke left. The Germans are bugging out. He might get a shot.”
GALAHAD 2
Alcott, “Turn right a little more. Okay, eleven o’clock and closing. 5 miles.”
Pappy, “I can’t see him.” The AIM-9 growls in his ear, “Fox 2.” Pappy’s Sidewinder flies true, hitting the German jet in its right engine and it detonates. The plane goes into a flat spin and the pilot ejects.
They hear, “Galahad 2, Galahad 1, time to head home. Good shot.”
PERCIVAL 2, 2000 FEET, WEST OF LONDON
Mouse, “Damn, he got us.” Their Tomcat is shaking violently.
Trollop shuts down the left engine. It grinds to a stop with a loud shriek. “I got alarms on number 2. Where the fuck are we?”
Mouse, “Turn south. Just turn south.”
“Okay, but we need a place to land.”
Mouse, “I know. Looking.” On radio, “RAF Hartford Bridge, Percival 2. Please turn on your lights for emergency landing.”
“Percival 2, Hartford. Lights coming on.” Then, to their left, they see runway lights turn on.
Mouse, “Thank you. We have visual. Request clearance for emergency landing.”
“Percival
2, the field is yours. Winds at 210 and 10 knots. Rolling the fire brigade.”
Mouse, “Roger. Thank you.” On intercom, “Can we make it?”
Trollop, “I don’t know. Stretching it out.” When she puts down the flaps, the plane buffets, but their sink rate slows. She lowers the gear and they hear banging and grinding.
Mouse, “This is going to be fun.”
Trollop, “Hang on.” She flares and touches down. When the main gear hits, the left tire explodes and they veer left. She counters with rudder and cuts her right engine. The plane skids down the runway, then lurches left onto the grass. The right main gear collapses and the right wing digs in, spinning them right. The left gear fails and the tail hits the ground. They stop, nose up, facing back the way they had come in.
Mouse, “Good landing.”
TOWER, RAF KENLEY
LT Hammond walks around the top of the tower. Kenley is burning. A fire engine is spraying burning napalm off the runway. Firefighters are battling the burning A-10 hangers and the engulfed barracks. The fires are too close to the JP-5 tank farm. LT Colonel Andrews joins him, “Can we land planes?”
“In a bit. We need to clear the runway.”
“The Commodore is overhead.”
“Oh.” He picks up a mic, “Arthur, Hamm, in Yankee tower. Request status?”
Lizard, “Good to hear you, Hamm. Is the field clear?”
“Negative, but should be in about 15 minutes. Napalm on the runway.”
“The boss wants to know if you have a head count.”
“Negative. We will have losses.”
“Roger.”
An ammo bunker goes high order. In the light from the fires, they can see the shock wave coming at them as a cloud of debris shoots hundreds of feet into the air. The shock wave hits, shattering the tower windows and hitting them in the chest like a sledge hammer. Fiery debris rains down onto the runways.
Hammond gets up and gropes for a mic, “Arthur, Hamm, make that 40 minutes on the runway. Did you see that?”
Lizard, “Yeah, we saw. Roger, 40 minutes.” Then, “All units, Kenley is closed. Alternate field, Hartford, is open.”
Hammond, “My apologies.”
