‘That will not be necessary, Miss Ballard. You have satisfied me that the information I have been given is erroneous. Please accept my sincere apologies. You too, Lieutenant Tremayne - indeed, I am proud to have met with you. I hope you will understand that I had to take action on the telephone call that was made to the War Office.’
‘May I ask the name of the caller?’ Perys said. Although greatly relieved that the matter had been satisfactorily settled, he was angry that it should have occurred at all.
‘It was an anonymous call,’ admitted the captain.
‘But the caller mentioned me by name?’
‘Why, yes, he did.’
Now Perys was quite certain he knew who had made the call. ‘I think you will find your anonymous caller seated at a table in the restaurant at this moment, in the company of two friends. His name is Edward Tremayne and he is a Second Lieutenant in the Duke of Cornwall Light Infantry.’ The captain’s eyebrows rose and Perys added, ‘We are cousins - at least, second cousins. Shortly before the war began I gave him a bloody nose. He has never forgiven me. I noticed he was absent from the table for some minutes earlier in the evening’ it’s probable he was making a telephone call to you.’
‘Now you mention it, I thought I recognised the voice. I believe he has a junior post at the War Office. I will go and have a word with him now. The provost section does not exist to settle family feuds. Thank you both for your understanding. I trust this unfortunate incident has not spoiled your evening together.’
* * *
It was a fine night and Perys and Grace decided to walk back to the hostel at St Thomas’s Hospital, where she had a room. On the way, his anger over the incident at the hotel almost gone, Perys said, ‘You never told me your father was such a senior army officer.’
Grace smiled at him. ‘You never asked me about him. He has taken a much greater interest in you. He was almost as thrilled as I was by the award of your Military Cross. He is a great RFC enthusiast and believes you have an assured future in the service. We spoke on the telephone earlier today. He has asked me to invite you to our home in Oxfordshire as soon as you have a free weekend . . . I suppose that really means as soon as we both have a free weekend at the same time. Life is likely to be changing a great deal for both of us in the coming weeks and months.’
‘Making plans will be difficult,’ he agreed, ‘as it already is for a great many people.’
‘But we will see each other again, whenever it is possible? We will try to make it happen?’
‘Of course.’
They were in the shadows, midway between two street lights, and it seemed a natural thing for them both to come to a halt and kiss.
Grace came to him eagerly. His response matched her ardour, but it needed a conscious effort to banish thoughts of the last girl he had kissed in this manner.
It was not easy.
But Annie was to marry someone else. It was time to put the past behind him.
Chapter 41
Nine days after the evening spent with Grace, Perys arrived in France.
He had hoped to fly there from England, but other senior officers at the Central Flying School were less confident of his skills than Major Kemp had been. Perys had only just completed his advanced flying course, therefore he had to travel with other newly qualified pilots drafted to front-line squadrons - by boat and train.
It was a long journey. Perys was the only man joining Major Kemp’s squadron, and by the time he reached the nearest railway station to the airfield he was tired, hungry and not in the best of humour. It did not help to be told that transport from the airfield might take anything up to two hours to arrive.
In fact, a vehicle arrived in less than an hour, but by this time night had fallen and the railway station was in darkness, for fear of an unlikely attack by German aircraft.
Perys had to wait until mail for the squadron had been loaded into the van, before climbing inside the cab beside the driver. Impatiently, he asked, ‘How long will it take us to reach the airfield?’
‘A lot longer than it would in daylight, sir. We’ll be running on dimmed lights and the road isn’t too good . . .’
But Perys had stopped listening to what the man was saying. ‘I know that voice,’ he said. ‘It’s Martin, isn’t it? Martin from Heligan.’
‘That’s right, sir, but I’m Driver Bray now - Air Mechanic First Class.’
‘We’ll leave all that for when we’re on the airfield, Martin.’ Reaching across the cab, he shook hands with the ex-Heligan coachman. ‘I knew you were in the RFC. I was at Heligan for a short while before Christmas.’
‘I know, sir. Polly wrote and told me.’
‘Is she well, Martin, she and . . . the family?’
‘They were all fine when I last heard, sir, but I’ve been moving about a bit since I left England. I’m not sure all the mail has caught up with me.’
‘It isn’t only here there are problems with the mail,’ Perys said, ruefully. ‘I wrote a number of letters to Annie that failed to arrive.’
‘Oh, they got there in the end,’ Martin said, hoping Perys would not question him too closely. Polly mentioned it. There was some sort of misunderstanding, I believe. Annie didn’t get the letters until after you’d been and gone from Heligan. Polly said she was very upset about it.’
They had left the railway station behind now and Martin spoke without shifting his gaze from the road, barely discernible in the dim light from the shielded headlamps.
‘She never received them . . . ?’ Perys suffered a brief moment of consternation. If she had not received his letters, then perhaps . . . Then he remembered she was to marry the farmer’s son. ‘It’s probably just as well she never had my letters before I arrived. After all, I believe she’s to be married.’
In the darkness of the van’s cab, Martin’s gaze flicked momentarily from the road to the man beside him. ‘Might they have caused trouble?’
‘Possibly. I grew very fond of Annie when we were all at Heligan together.’
‘I always thought she felt the same way about you,’ Martin said.
‘Then why was mention never made of this farmer’s son she’s marrying? According to your parents a marriage between them was planned long before I came on the scene.’
‘It’s certainly what Ma and Pa would like. They’ve never made any secret of it, but it came as a surprise to me when I heard that Annie and Jimmy were going to marry. Rose - Jimmy’s sister - is Annie’s friend, her best friend, but I was never aware of anything between our Annie and Jimmy. Still, there must have been something going on, I suppose, because both Ma and Polly have written to tell me about it.’
‘When you next write to Polly will you ask her to pass on a message to Annie from me? Tell her that I hope she will be very, very happy with this Jimmy.’
‘I’ll do that. But changing the subject for a moment, there are a couple of things I’d like to say before we reach the airfield . . . sir. It might be better for both of us if you don’t let on that we know each other. The men I work with would resent it and make more of it than there is. It wouldn’t do you any good either, sir. A couple of the pilots who are officers now were once just ordinary airmen like me. They’ve been told off in no uncertain terms about being too friendly with men they once worked with.’
‘Very well, Martin, if that’s the way things are, that’s the way we’ll behave - when we’re on the airfield. When we’re on our own like this I’d like things to be the way they were during those happy days at Heligan. But you said there were a couple of things?’
‘Yes. I’m very grateful to you for suggesting that I should join the RFC. I’ve seen something of life in the trenches, up at the front. I don’t think I could survive in the way they have to. All the same, I believe I might be doing something more useful than driving a van around the countryside.’ There was another quick glance at Perys before Martin added, ‘What I’d really like to do is fly . . . perhaps not as a pilot, I don’t think I’l
l ever be good enough for that, but I’m sure I could do the job of an observer. I know you won’t be able to do anything about it right away, not until you’ve settled in a bit, but there aren’t enough observers in the squadron to go round right now. Sometimes the pilots choose one of the ground crew to go up with them. If ever the occasion arises I’d be very grateful if you’d consider taking me.’
‘Of course I will, Martin, but, as you say, I’ll need to settle in a little first.’
* * *
Perys’s settling in period was much shorter than he had anticipated.
He was informed on his arrival that it was Major Kemp’s policy to give new pilots a minimum of fourteen days’ familiarisation before they were sent up on active duties. The commanding officer made this ruling in a bid to curtail the alarming loss of pilots and observers that the squadron had experienced prior to his arrival.
He decided that before a pilot became operational, he should be familiar with the area in which he operated, know the spots where German anti-aircraft guns and aircraft were at their most dangerous, and be able to find his way back to the airfield after an operation, no matter where he happened to be.
Unfortunately, Perys had only been with the squadron for two days when three pilots and two observers were seriously hurt in a vehicle smash when they were returning to the airfield after a night out in the local town. He was told he would need to be available immediately.
The squadron had been given the task of reconnaissance and aerial photography, both of which were of prime importance with a spring offensive in the offing. Aerial photography was dangerous work. While taking photographs of enemy lines it was necessary for the pilot to fly a straight and even course, in order that the photographs so obtained could later be joined together to give a full picture of the trench system of the German army. Any significant changes would be assessed by senior officers at army headquarters in a bid to guess what the Germans might be planning.
The loss of so many of the squadron’s experienced aircrew was a chance for Perys to inform the commanding officer of Martin’s ambitions. As a result, the ex-Heligan coachman was given the opportunity he had hoped for, although he would not initially be flying with Perys. He was allocated to an experienced pilot for the same reason that Perys flew with an experienced observer.
The first two operational flights undertaken by Perys posed no problems. He photographed a section of the German trench system that was well established and had few anti-aircraft defences.
His third flight was very different. A pilot sent to photograph a particularly sensitive section of the German lines had failed to return from his mission and was presumed to have been shot down. As this part of the line featured in a planned assault, it was essential that a full set of photographs be obtained. Perys was detailed to carry out the task attempted by the missing man.
In view of the importance attached to the information sought by army headquarters, Perys was given an escort of four ‘Longhorns’. Two flew above him to guard against enemy fighter planes, the other two below. One of these was in radio contact with the ground.
Despite the primitive and experimental nature of the equipment being used, the object of the radio link was to bring artillery fire to bear on any German anti-aircraft fire that posed a particular threat to the operation. Unfortunately, the radio aircraft was hit by German fire almost immediately and forced to abandon its assignment. Perys last saw it descending rapidly towards the British lines, trailing smoke.
As a result of the loss of this plane, the German anti-aircraft batteries were able to range upon Perys’s aeroplane without fear of retribution.
Their shooting was uncomfortably accurate. When one near miss threw the BE2c off course Perys decided to lose a thousand feet of height before resuming his photographic duties. It meant the photographs would need expert interpretation, but Perys decided this was preferable to remaining on course at the previous height and risking the loss of all the photographs, together with himself, his observer and the aeroplane.
The observer, a full lieutenant with considerably more experience than Perys, thought so too. He made this clear in the report he gave when they landed safely. In the mess later that evening he insisted on paying for Perys’s drinks, announcing to one and all that he would be happy to remain as Perys’s regular observer.
The lieutenant did remain with Perys for a few more days, but then he returned to England for a week’s leave. He was replaced by Martin Bray.
Chapter 42
Following Perys’s recommendation, Martin had spent a week flying as an observer with two different pilots. Their reports on his capabilities led to him being placed on acting observers’ duties with the squadron.
When he was allocated to Perys, it was immediately apparent to Major Kemp that the two formed a very effective team. On their first flight together they were photographing a section of the front-line when they were attacked by a German fighter plane.
Although the very nature of their sortie decreed they should maintain a steady course, the German pilot was an experienced and aggressive airman. Any attempt to ignore him would have proved fatal to the British fliers.
In an aerial duel that lasted for fifteen minutes, each pilot tried to manoeuvre himself into a favourable attacking position, without giving his adversary an advantage that would bring the conflict to a swift and fatal conclusion.
Both men were skilful pilots, and to the watching soldiers on the ground on both sides of the front-line, it was like witnessing a duel between two eagles engaged in a deadly territorial contest.
Then the German pilot made his first and only mistake. For a few moments his aeroplane flew above and behind his opponent, giving Martin a clear shot at him.
It was enough.
Half a drum of bullets tore through the fabric of the aeroplane beneath the German pilot’s seat. He was dead even before the plane began falling in a nose-down spiral.
Martin had downed his first enemy aircraft. It was a feat which earned both men a mention in dispatches. Martin’s proud letter to his parents at Tregassick Farm, informing them of the award, gave them their first indication that their son was now a flying man.
However, the encounter with the downed German had not been an entirely satisfactory experience for Perys. It made him more aware than ever before that the capabilities of the BE2c fell far short of those of the German aeroplane. His success, if not his very survival, was a result of the excellent instruction he had received from Nick Malloch, coupled with Martin’s accurate shooting. Most other RFC pilots would have been shot down in the first few minutes of the encounter.
He discussed the matter with Major Kemp a few evenings later, when the squadron commanding officer was giving Perys a lift into the nearby town to enjoy an unexpected twenty- four-hour break from flying due to bad weather which had closed in on the front.
‘The German aircraft are superior to our own aeroplanes,’ agreed the commanding officer. ‘I put in a report saying so to RFC headquarters weeks ago.’
‘It’s not only their aeroplanes,’ Perys persisted. ‘Our pilots are sent to France with little more than an elementary knowledge of battle tactics and aerobatics. The Germans not only have better aircraft, they have pilots who are more expert in handling them.’
‘Again, I agree with you,’ said Major Kemp, ‘but don’t exaggerate the flying skills of German pilots. Inexperience is responsible for the deaths of far more British pilots than the enemy, properly trained, a British pilot is more than a match for his German counterpart, whatever aeroplane he is flying - as you recently proved - but so far we have not had time to train them sufficiently before they’re needed urgently on operations. I know it’s wrong and a very senior RFC officer agrees with me. He is currently badgering the War Office to improve both recruiting and RFC training methods. He’s on the look-out for good instructors. If you would like to put some of your ideas into practice . . .’
Perys shook his head vigorously. ‘I’m not
ready to take on training duties just yet. On the contrary. I’d like to take a more active role. I believe the formation of a number of fighter squadrons is being considered. Much as I enjoy being in your squadron, sir, I would like to volunteer to move to one of them.’
‘You don’t know how delighted I am to hear you say that, Perys. I have asked to be given one of these new fighter squadrons. The trouble is, the powers-that-be haven’t yet agreed on the type of aircraft they want, although it will probably be a single-seater. When they’ve finally made up their mind and the squadrons are formed, I expect to be given one. When that happens I’d like to take you with me - as one of my flight commanders.’
Perys could not hide his astonishment. ‘A flight commander? I’m not even a full lieutenant yet!’
‘Oh, hasn’t anyone told you? Your promotion came through a day or two ago. Besides, you have as much experience and more flying ability than any other pilot in the squadron - so you had better put up that extra pip when you get back to your billet.’
Some days later, still with the reconnaissance squadron, Perys was to witness an event that, although he was not aware of it at the time, would have a profound effect upon his private life.
He and Martin were making a routine reconnaissance flight behind the German lines, looking for any unusual movement that might indicate an imminent enemy attack. All seemed fairly quiet, with nothing out of the ordinary taking place. However, half-an-hour into the flight, Perys banked the aircraft and went lower, in order to evade shells from a German anti-aircraft battery which had gauged their height with uncomfortable accuracy.
As he levelled out once more, Martin turned in the forward cockpit and gestured downwards. His vision blocked by the lower wing, Perys banked again in order to see what had caught Martin’s attention.
Close to the ground a greenish smoky substance was being discharged from dozens of tube-like chimneys seemingly rooted in the ground. Drifting across no-man’s land to the allied trenches, the cloud so formed gradually became a blue-white mist.
The Lost Years Page 21
