Seeing that death, a necessary end,
Will come when it will come.’
“Those are fine lines, and when I read them, I realized there was nothing I could do about death. So that made an impact on me.”
“What was the other thing?”
“I realized that I was in God’s hands,” Cecil said simply. He was an Anglican who attended services every week and at times even gave brief talks on the Scriptures to groups arranged by the bishop. Now as he sat there, a smile came to his long lips, and he nodded. “I realize that as I love my own children, God loves me more than I love them. So I’m trusting Him to do the right thing for me.”
Logan sat there silently for a moment, then finally said, “I think that’s a good way to look at things, Cecil.”
“You know, everyone’s worried about you, Logan. You act very foolishly at times. I mean, we all take chances, but lately you seem to look for difficult situations. Like when you went at those two Fokkers today. You should have waited for the rest of the squadron.”
“I got them both, didn’t I? Or one of them.”
“Yes, but they could have gotten you just as easily.”
Logan suddenly stood up. “I don’t know what’s the matter with me, Cecil. I guess it’s just this war. Nobody behaves rationally during a war, do they?”
“I think we have to look at it a little differently. Especially those of us who are believers. We have to believe that God has His hand on us, and that for this part of our existence, we are doing what He would have us to do.” Cecil rose and took the pipe he had been puffing on out of his mouth. Gently he said, “Take care, Logan, my boy. I would hope God has a great life planned for you. Don’t throw it away.”
Logan watched as the gangling ex-professor made his way out and thought about what he had said. He’s a pretty sharp cookie, that one. But I can’t make myself feel better. He had been in the grips of a bleak despair, and he knew that somehow it was connected with his feelings for Danielle Laurent. But there seemed to be no help for that. With a sigh, he sat back down and began reading the book, but it had no meaning for him.
****
Jo was waiting for Logan when he came out of his quarters. She went up to him at once, saying, “You got a minute?”
“I guess so.”
“Come along. I’ll buy you lunch.”
He climbed into the sidecar of her motorcycle and was amused at the astonished glances they got as she roared into town. She took the corners almost at full speed, so that he had to hang on to his hat to keep it from being blown off. “Hey, take it easy! I’m not used to this sort of thing!”
“You’ll be all right, Logan,” Jo said. “I’ve never lost a passenger yet. Bedford takes it better than you do.” She pulled up in front of her favorite small café, and the two went inside. They both ordered, and while they were waiting for it to be prepared, Jo said, “I received good news from home. My book’s been accepted by a major publisher.”
“Congratulations, Jo! You worked hard. You deserve it.”
“I don’t know. It’s too soon to publish the book. I’ve tried to capture what I’ve seen, but I’m not happy with it.”
“I’m sure it’s great. I’m glad for you.”
Jo shrugged, but her heart was not in talking about the book. She began, instead, talking about Bedford, who had some sort of stomach upset. She saw Logan paying polite attention, but his mind seemed to be far away. It was something that would not have happened before, and finally she said, “Lance is completely recovered. I’ll bet all of you fliers see a difference in him.”
“Yes. It’s strange. He always kept his distance from the pilots, but now he plays poker with them, or squash, and it’s quite a change. I’m glad to see it.”
“Have you been to the Laurents’ lately?”
“No. Been too busy.”
This was not true, Jo knew, but she did not argue. “It’s amazing how close Lance has gotten to Gabby. He needed this time away from the war. I’m so happy for her and for him.”
“I guess they’re all a family now, Pierre, Katherine, Gabby, Lance, and—” He hesitated and then said, “And Dani.”
Jo did not miss the look that flickered in Logan’s eyes. “They’re all happy that Lance is doing better. They were very concerned about him. I think he’s finally accepted his wife’s death.”
Logan did not answer. He sipped the cup of coffee the waitress had brought and said, “They can’t fix coffee like they do back in the States, can they?”
“What’s wrong with you, Logan?” Jo asked, leaning forward and speaking with an intense voice. Her eyes were fixed on his, and there was an urgency in her manner. “I talked to Pug Hardeston. He says you scare him to death when you’re out on patrol. He told me about how you charged a whole flight of Germans with just Pug along. He grew absolutely pale telling about it.”
“We came out of it all right.”
“Pug doesn’t see how. He says it was a miracle of God that the two of you weren’t both shot down.”
“Pug exaggerates.”
The waiter brought their orders and interrupted their conversation. Finally, when he left, Jo said, “I’m worried about you. Of course, I always have been. I’ve been afraid you might get shot down, but now it’s something else. Something is eating away at you, Logan.”
“Leave me alone, Jo!” Logan shoved his food aside and stood up. “I didn’t come here to get lectured on what’s wrong with me!” He turned abruptly and walked out, leaving Jo staring after him, shocked.
“He’s worse off than I thought,” she murmured. She got up and left the restaurant after paying the bill. Down the street she saw Logan’s tall, athletic form moving away, but she knew there was no point in going after him. “Something’s terribly wrong, and I don’t know what it is. But I’m very much afraid for him.”
****
The sun was low in the sky, and Logan, who was leading the flight over Sector R, signaled to his wingmen, Jerold Spencer and Harold Holmes. The three planes banked and headed toward home base. They had seen nothing during the flight, and Logan found that his attention wandered when there was no action. Now as they flew along high over the earth, he found himself thinking of how he had behaved with Jo and felt ashamed. I didn’t have to treat Jo like that, he thought. She’s been my best friend here except for Rev, maybe.
His eyes constantly searched the horizon, and every few minutes, he looked in the mirror in front of him and twisted his neck to look high in the sky. At this height, though, he was unlikely to be attacked from above, so he grew lax.
The engine was running smoothly, and the sound of it had a hypnotizing effect on him. He had not been sleeping well, and he knew his behavior to the other pilots was abysmal. Somehow he could not control the dark moods that had come over him. He had found himself taking long walks and avoiding the company of the other pilots. He had seen Danielle but once, and his short conversation with her had been stiff. She had been hurt, he had seen that, but he could not seem to control the jealousy that had taken possession of him.
What’s wrong with me? he thought. She’s got a right to love who she wants to. She never made me any promises. I think I must be going crazy.
He wrenched his thoughts away from Danielle but found them going back to her often. He had reached the point where he could call up her face almost instantly, every feature and line of it that he had learned to love. The thought of not having her, he knew, had driven him into this depression. He had known men before, and women as well, who were jealous, but this was the first time for him. It was almost like a sickness, and he hated himself for his behavior, yet he seemed consumed by it.
Suddenly he was aware that Spencer had pulled up, almost touching wing tips. He glanced over, and the ex-jockey was pointing down.
Looking over the cockpit, shock went over Logan, for there below was a flight of at least a dozen bombers.
They’d never send out a flight of that many bombers without fighter cov
er. He looked around the sky, and sure enough, hovering under a cloud bank shadowing the bombers were at least fifteen fighter planes.
Ordinarily Logan would have known better, but he was not thinking clearly. He had to strike out at something, and he jabbed his thumb down at the bombers. He saw shock run over Spencer’s face. The ex-jockey shook his head, and his lips framed the words, “Too many, Cowboy!”
Suddenly Logan did not care. He forgot about Spencer, and he forgot about Harold Holmes, who was on his right wing. I can get at least two of those bombers before the fighters can get to me, he thought. He put the Nieuport into a steep dive.
Behind him, Spencer watched helplessly, then motioned to Harold Holmes, his baby-faced companion. “Come on!” he yelled, although he knew the pilot could not hear him. “He’s gonna kill himself!”
The action took place very rapidly. The German fighter planes had seen the three Nieuports and were just waiting. As soon as the planes dived on the bombers, the leader of the flight signaled, and the entire squadron dropped into a screaming dive. The leader watched as the lead Nieuport tore into the bombers’ formation, racking one that burst into flames immediately, then shifting and pouring tracers into another, killing the pilot.
What happened next happened so quickly that it was over in a few seconds. Spencer and Holmes both turned to cover Logan, who had seemingly lost his mind. He was dodging in and out among the fighters as the gunfire from their guns flickered and struck his plane. His two companions were left to take the incoming flight of Fokkers.
It was not a fight but an execution. All twelve of the Germans hit the planes of Spencer and Holmes with their guns blazing. They had been newly fitted with cannons, and both of the Nieuports were torn to shreds and both pilots killed immediately.
Logan suddenly glanced up to see Jerold’s and Harold’s planes practically disintegrate, and the shock of losing his comrades because of his actions slammed into him. He had no time to think, for the Fokkers were headed straight for him now. Logan threw his plane into a steep dive. The one thing the Nieuport could do that the Fokkers could not do was achieve great speed in a dive. He had discovered that this was the quickest way to shake off the enemy, and as he headed for the earth, he did not care whether he lived or died. He could see the baby-faced Harold Holmes, who had led a sheltered life and now had died at the age of nineteen. Spencer, who talked constantly about going back to his racing career after the war, was now dead, too.
“And I killed both of them,” Logan screamed. He gunned straight for the earth and pulled out only a few hundred feet above the level of the trees. He glanced back and saw that the Fokkers had gone back to shepherding their bombers. He saw also the two black trails of smoke as the Nieuports with his dead companions scored the sky.
****
Logan never remembered landing the plane. He had flown back automatically and landed almost without thinking. When he crawled out, Rev was there at once and so were Captain Winslow and Copper Jennings.
“Where are Spencer and Holmes?” Winslow asked quickly.
“Dead.”
A shock ran over all three of the men who stood waiting. It was always a tragedy when a man went down, but these two had been the favorites of the squadron. “How did it happen?” Copper Jennings demanded.
Logan was filled with guilt. “It was my fault,” he said. He related, without sparing himself, what had happened, and Jennings’ face hardened.
“You fool! You killed two good men,” he said, then turned and walked away without another word.
Lance was appalled. “You’re a fool, Logan,” Lance said angrily. “I’ve tried to talk to you about taking these awful chances. None of the pilots will want to fly with you now.”
“I’ll fly alone then!”
Lance shook his head. “This isn’t knights in tournaments, Logan. We’ve talked about this before. There’s no such thing as a flying cavalier. That’s what the newspapers call you. Cowboy Smith, the flying cavalier. But you know and I know that’s not how it is. We’ve got to work together and fight together.”
Logan listened as Lance spoke, but he heard none of the words. He could see nothing but the faces of his two fallen comrades. Regret, grief, and dread filled him, and he shook his head, saying, “I couldn’t help it, Captain. I’m no good.” He turned around and walked away.
Lance turned to Rev Brown, who was standing alongside. “What do you make of it, Brown?”
“I’ve seen it before, Captain. He blames himself, and I’m afraid he’ll try to get himself killed just to make up for it.”
“We can’t let that happen, Brown. You’re his friend. Stay close to him. I’m his friend, too, although he doesn’t believe it.”
“I’ll try, sir, but he’s a very stubborn fellow. He’s never had a thing like this happen to him. I believe God’s brought him to this point, and God will have to bring him out!”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Three Are Better Than Two
“You’re his friend, Brown. You know him better than anyone else.” Lance had called Revelation Brown into his office and now stood beside the window looking at the gangly mechanic. Over the months Lance had gained great confidence in the strange American. It was not only that he was the best mechanic anyone on the base had ever seen, but Rev had a heartfelt faith that, without question, was real. True enough, he irritated some with his direct approach, but he never grew angry and had a meek spirit such as Lance had never seen. “What do you think is eating on Logan?”
Shifting his feet nervously, Rev put his hands behind him and locked his fingers. “I don’t know for sure, Captain, but he’s got to get over it. I know that much.”
“You’re right about that. He’s going to get himself killed.”
“Have you tried to talk to him, sir?”
“Yes. But it’s like he’s built a wall around himself. I’m worried about him, Brown. He blames himself for Spencer and Holmes, and, of course, the truth is that he is wrong.”
“Yes, sir. He won’t talk about it at all. The rest of the pilots are down on him. Some of them anyway. They hate to fly with him. They think he’s a suicide pilot.”
Lance shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair. “Do you suppose it would do any good if Jo talked to him?”
“She already has, sir.”
“What did she say?”
“About the same as we say. He’s got a wall built up and won’t listen to anybody.”
“Well, we’ve got to try harder, that’s all. We can’t lose a good man. He’s got some problems, but I’ve always known that he had a good, solid foundation—” He grinned suddenly and added, “For an American, that is.”
Rev was thinking, This is a different kind of Captain Lance Winslow. He would never make a joke with an enlisted man, and he really cares for the pilots. “Yes, sir,” he said. “I’m fasting and praying, and I believe God is going to show him the way.”
“I’m going to take off. I’ve got business, so I’ll be off the base for the rest of the afternoon. There are no missions planned for the next few days, so perhaps we’ve got a little time.”
“Yes, sir. And, sir, thank you for being concerned.”
Lance nodded and shrugged his shoulders. After Revelation left, Lance plucked his cap off the peg and settled it on his head. Taking a sheaf of papers, he stuffed them into his briefcase and left. As he got into his car and started for the house, he thought suddenly, When I start for home, it’s different now. I used to dread going there, but now I can’t wait to be with Gabby.
He drove quickly, and after parking the car he got out eagerly. He was met at the door by Katherine, who said, “Jo’s here. She’s in the sitting room with Gabby.”
“All right. I’ll just look in on them.”
Katherine hesitated. “Have you talked to Logan?”
Lance grimaced and shook his head. It seemed that everyone was interested in Logan—except Logan himself. He seemed not to care at all. “I talked to Rev abou
t him. He’s worried just as we are.”
“You’ve got to do something, Lance,” Katherine said. “He’s lost. He’s not the same Logan that we first knew.”
Desperation ran through Lance. “I know it, Katherine, but what can I do? I’ve tried to talk to him, but he won’t listen. He flies like a crazy man. It’s like he wants to get shot down.”
“Dani’s very worried about him. He used to come see her, but now he seems to be avoiding her,” she said.
“I think he’s avoiding everyone.”
“Try to get him to come to supper.”
“I have tried, but it doesn’t work.” He shrugged his shoulders, then said, “Well, as Rev said, God will have to work this out.” He went to his room, hung up his cap, and deposited his briefcase on the small desk. For a moment he stood there and looked at the picture of Noelle he had framed and hung on the wall over his desk. Always before, up until recently, just looking at her picture gave him such pain that he could not bear it. He had kept the picture tucked away, hidden from himself. But now he found that he could look at it without the desperate grief that he had felt for years. The memories that came were good now, and he thought, You gave me the best years of my life, and I’ll never forget them. He stood there half waiting for the agony of grief to come rushing back, but it did not, and his eyes shifted to the picture of Gabby that was also mounted over his desk. In the picture she was playing with Bedford. The big dog was licking her face; her eyes were closed with ecstasy, and she had a big grin on her face. “I wish you could see her, Noelle, but I’ll do the best I can to take care of her. Just as you would.”
Turning, he left the room, and as he moved into the hall toward the sitting room, he heard Jo’s voice. The door was open and he paused there. Her side was to him, and she was sitting in a chair holding Gabby in her lap. It made such a beautiful picture for Lance Winslow. He stood there simply gazing at them. Sunlight came through the window, lighting Gabby’s hair and falling across Jo’s face. Her red hair gleamed, and there was a peace on her face as she spoke quietly. She was a good storyteller, and Lance stood there listening, pleased with the sight.
The Flying Cavalier Page 33
