Wolf checked his controls. First, he moved the control stick in various combinations to get a feel for the Hurricane’s sensitivity. Up, down, right and left, he did them all. He then stepped on the pedals to the rudder and went through the process again as he turned the plane in both directions.
Satisfied, Lieutenant Marsh said, “Okay, you check out. Pick up a little speed and put her through her paces. Wolf gently banked the plane into a full turn. He leveled out and went the opposite direction. Wolf looked at the Hurricane’s gauges and knew that time wasn’t on his side. He wanted to see what the Hurricane could do before Lieutenant Marsh made him take the plane back to Biggin Hill. When would he get another chance to fly a real airplane? Maybe never.
He rolled the plane over to the right and went into a mini-power dive. Wolf flattened out and then performed two barrel rolls. He pulled up on the stick and pushed the Hurricane nearly straight up. The plane lost momentum and went into a stall. Wolf pushed the stick, the nose dropped, and the Hurricane powered on. Two loops were performed in quick succession.
Lieutenant Marsh’s voice came over the intercom. “That’s enough lad. Let’s take her home. If I knew you were going to rattle my stomach, I would have skipped breakfast.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be, I rather enjoyed it.”
Twenty minutes past noon the Hawker Hurricane landed and came to a stop by the hangar. Lieutenant Marsh and Wolf got out. Wolf was beaming. Winston said, “Perhaps it would be a good idea to clean up, before presenting yourself to those waiting for us at Chartwell.”
“Yes, Sir Winston.”
Lieutenant March laid his flight gear on the table. Winston said, “What is your prognosis for young Wolf Kruger?”
“Sir Winston, if I may be so blunt...”
“Go on.”
“I hope not to meet that young man in unfriendly circumstances in the air.”
Winston said, “Lieutenant, surely you jest.”
“He’s what, seventeen? He has the potential to be the finest fighter pilot I have ever come across. A natural who knows how to push a plane, but not abuse it. Must have got that from flying gliders.”
“It seems his parents have every right to be worried.”
“The lad is a shoo-in in for flight school.”
Winston murmured, “I see.”
“And flying for the Luftwaffe, what a shame? A damn shame.”
“Yes, tragic in many ways.”
“Forgive me; perhaps you should stick him in the Tower of London before the whole bloody mess commences.”
Winston chomped down on his cigar. “I don’t think his parents would appreciate that. However, that might be a prescient thought. No doubt they would prefer Wolf to sit out the hostilities if and when they come, in the comforts of the Tower’s dungeon, without the chains of course.”
Lieutenant Marsh watched Wolf finished cleaning up in the rear of the hangar. Wolf turned the water off to a sink basin and carefully wiped his hands. “I don’t believe chains will stop that one from taking to the air once the action starts. It is the nature of the beast.”
“I suppose you’re right. It is like a cricket player standing down for the big event.”
“Sir Winston what does this mean for England? Are there others like him?”
“I’m afraid so. But it’s much too pristine of a day to think about that. There will be a time and place for the gnashing of teeth...unfortunately.” Winston relit his cigar. “One can’t expect to have everything. Wolf did win the Regatta for Chartwell Manor. As for this flight, that will only be between us. Any other opinions Lieutenant?”
“You might want to give him a double scotch.”
“And perhaps one for myself.”
* * *
Wolf saluted and then shook hands with Lieutenant Marsh, outside the Rolls Royce. Lieutenant Marsh said, “Off you go lad. I hope to see you again, in good times of course.”
Wolf nodded, and the Rolls Royce pulled away. Winston closed the sliding window between the front and rear compartment of the Rolls Royce. James, who was Winston's driver, turned onto the main highway and left Biggin Hill.
Wolf said, “Your driver…”
“You needn’t worry; James has been my driver and confidant since the Great War. He limps a bit now, after taking a round in the leg from a German machine gun at the Battle of Ypres. But he did capture a German colonel soon after. He was awarded the Victory Medal.”
“My parents don’t understand. I will not be a mathematician...no matter what.”
“Your parents know more than they let on. It is their way of protecting you.”
“How does that make sense? Protect me from what?”
Winston took his cigar out of his mouth. “From the evils of this world that lie in wait, I have seen it on the battlefields. Man is capable of terrible deeds, even if performed in the name of God and country. That is the great trap that must be avoided at all costs.”
“You mean the evils of one country or another?”
“No, the sins of any man, no matter what uniform he wears.”
“I hope one day my parents can accept me as a pilot.”
“Wolf, life is often not a matter of wants but often of fate. One never knows where his true path lies. When it is thrust upon you, it must be accepted and embraced.”
“Will there be war?”
“You mean since Adolf Hitler has seen fit to re-enter the Rhineland?”
“Yes.”
“It's hard to avoid war when one side as Germany does, thinks it has been unfairly punished. Perhaps they have the moral high ground; I don’t know. The only thing that matters is they believe that to be the case. That my young Wolf is where the danger lies.”
“Sir Winston, is there no other solution?”
“For countries to live in peace? Often things must be broken and torn down to start anew. That is the way of mankind and the world. Man has fought and died since the beginning of time. For what and why that is fades away in time. A very useless endeavor, but sometimes it is very necessary.”
Wolf watched the pleasant countryside roll by as the Rolls Royce continued. “If there is war, can we still be friends?”
“But of course. Don’t look so gloomy; today you conquered the sea and the air. Surely, that is enough for one day.”
“Yes, more than sufficient.”
Winston acted as if he had forgotten something. "By the way, my niece Madeline will be in attendance tonight for the party which is in honor of your parents. I should think she will need an escort.”
“Sir Winston…”
“Yes, lad.”
“Is she—”
“Is she pretty? That is a question man has pondered since the Stone Age. My boy, if your heart doesn’t skip a beat, you may retire to my den and discover scotch. However, if your heart does race, then, of course, that is a different matter. I would then suggest you and the scotch stroll the grounds with Madeline. Proper manners must rule the day. But then again, youth is a finite commodity and shouldn’t be wasted on manners... proper or not.”
Madeline
The dinner in honor of Mr. and Mrs. Professor Kruger was a drawn out affair. Course after course came out. Small talk was the order of the day, as Winston was on his best behavior. It wasn’t until dessert that politics finally reared its ugly head.
Lord Dorchester, a rather pompous man, sat next to Winston. Lord Dorchester had an open habit of looking down his nose at commoner and working man alike. But he was well connected, and even Winston needed to “prime the pump” as it were to keep in the political game.
Wolf was seated next to Madeline who seemed to intrigue him. It was Madeline’s blue eyes that drew Wolf to her. Her beautiful smile didn’t hurt either. Madeline was the same age as Wolf but had a carefree air about her. And she seemed to light up a room, of that there was no doubt. Madeline was the kind of girl that if she was a woman in medieval times, men might have fought and died over.
More th
an once Winston glanced over to assess the situation. He surmised that Wolf wouldn’t be drinking scotch by himself.
When Clementine gave Winston a look between sips of her split pea soup, Winston turned his attention to Lord Dorchester. “Lord Dorchester, do you wish to change your opinion on the rearming of Germany? You have read the wide-ranging articles by the London Times which now unequivocally proves that the Luftwaffe has more fighter planes than the RAF. Of course, the other side of the House of Commons gave their solemn oath that this would not be the case.”
Lord Dorchester cleared his throat. “Winston, is this the time or place, with your honored guests?”
Professor Kruger asked, “Lord Dorchester, you mean because we are Germans?”
Mrs. Kruger frowned, “I can assure you, even though we are Germans, we haven’t taken leave of our senses.”
“Not all Germans are Nazis,” said Professor Kruger.
Winston said, “The last thing Lord Dorchester wishes to do, is to make you and your wife uncomfortable.”
“Quite right. As to the question of the German Air Force, I shouldn’t worry. The Luftwaffe lacks both planes and, more importantly, the pilots to fly them.”
Winston looked at Wolf, “I wouldn’t be so sure about that conclusion my Lord.” Lord Dorchester shrugged off the comment as if he had a pulse on the affairs of the world. Winston had found Lord Dorchester to be overly self-assured and confident in his outlook of the world since the Great War. “Things are already in motion, and yes, perhaps the die is cast.”
Lord Dorchester puffed out his chest, “I see no reason to be worried. Surely, Herr Hitler will not make war. Planes or not, the Luftwaffe would soon be destroyed.”
Winston looked at Wolf and smiled. “I understand the Luftwaffe is not only building a modern fleet of fighters but training pilots thru the guise of recreational glider flying.”
“Glider pilots, really Winston with all due respect, have you taken leave of your senses?”
Wolf spoke up, “Lord Dorchester, I’m a glider pilot, and can assure you there are many more like me who will soon take to the air... to protect Germany.”
Madeline set down her fork, and it clanged on her plate. She gave Wolf a most disapproving look. “Is that all that men talk about? War and more war?”
Winston said, “Madeline, I must admit I’m perplexed by that comment. It was your father, Lord Ashton, who after all, was an ace for the RAF in World War One.”
“He did his duty for God and King. I was proud of him. But let’s just say, things haven’t turned out very well for my father.”
Clementine said, “My dear how is he getting along?”
“The same. He blames the world for his predicament. It is rather troubling and exhausting.”
“Now don’t be too hard on him.”
“I will try to remember that.”
Clementine decided to change the direction of the conversation. “And now I understand your brother is in the RAF.”
“Very true.” Madeline smiled, “I would have preferred if he was a mathematician.” Everyone at the table laughed except for Wolf.
Mrs. Kruger reached out and took touched Madeline’s arm. “Then there is hope after all. Oh, and I do like you very much.”
Winston chuckled, “Madeline do you have something against pilots?”
Madeline said sharply, “Only those who are full of themselves.”
Winston said, “Do excuse me, Madeline. Perhaps it was too much wine. Passions can run deep after three glasses of Chardonnay. I don’t believe Wolf has seen the serene grounds of Chartwell. Madeline, would you be so kind as to do the honors?”
“But of course.”
* * *
Outside Chartwell Manor, Madeline walked ahead of Wolf on a gravel path toward the herbaceous and rose gardens. Madeline looked straight ahead, and Wolf hurried along to stay with her. “Why are you walking so fast?”
“Sir Winston asked me to show the grounds, and that is what I’m doing. Stand to, before you miss something.”
Madeline kicked up some gravel and Wolf slipped. He stumbled and bumped into the gardens bordering the walkway. He banged his shin. “Are you mad?”
She laughed heartily “For a swashbuckling pilot, you seem to have problems keeping your feet firmly on the ground. I think your mother is right; you belong behind a desk with a slide rule. You won’t last very long as a pilot.”
“I beg your pardon Miss Madeline, but you don’t know me. Not even the first thing. What’s my favorite ice cream flavor?”
“Chocolate.”
Now Wolf laughed, “Wrong, vanilla.”
“Don’t be so smug. I know you well enough.”
“No, you don’t!”
Madeline stopped and faced Wolf. “I don’t? Of course, I do. You fly boys are all the same. First, there will be supposed glory, with medals and useless commendations about victories of days passed. Then just like my—”
“Your father…”
“Yes, the great ace of World War One who spends his time drinking from sunrise to sunset, lamenting about his air patrol that was shot down over France. He was the only one who made it back. He blames himself for that and finds solace in the bottom of a bottle or several.”
Wolf said, “I’m sorry. But I’m not your father.”
Now there was a fire in her eyes. At that moment, Wolf found Madeline abundantly desirable. There was no rational way to explain it. It was the way of the world. But no one informed Madeleine of cupid’s arrow streaking her way.
Madeline said, “Yes only because you’re sober. And now my brother Randolph has taken to the air, to save the family name, to prove to everyone that the Ashton’s are worthwhile, be it I pray without a bottle. But that may not be the case, because he hasn’t lost an air patrol yet. But give him time, because if there is war...then, there is hope! He may fly against you, Wolf Kruger. Perhaps you will shoot each other down and let us all get on with our lives.”
Wolf eyes turned serious and piercing. “That is so unfair. I don’t want war.”
Madeline stared him down. “Really? Don’t lie to yourself. You and the others crave it. For some obscene reason, it’s what you all live for. How else can you measure yourself against other pilots? The fact that someone has to die is just an inconvenient by-product.”
“You seem to have a lot of opinions.”
“I’m Sir Winston’s niece; that is to be expected.”
Wolf said, “Don’t you find, being this way, has a tendency to push possible suitors away?”
“Like yourself?”
“Me? No, I’m just an innocent guest of the Churchill’s for the weekend. But your eyes are rather beautiful.”
“Did he tell you to say that?”
“Who?”
“Sir Winston.”
“I thought of that all by myself, while I was dogfighting.”
“Tell me, Wolf, what will you do when an RAF pilot gets on your tail?”
“Break left and head for the deck. When I suck him in, I will loop and get on his tail. But I will only fight if duty calls.”
They strolled into the middle of the herbaceous and rose garden. “Duty? What do you think a fighter pilot does to justify his existence, tow signs behind his plane saying, ‘Madeline, please marry me’?”
Wolf looked at her and tried to stop from laughing. “I can assure you, that I for one would not have that banner attached to my plane.”
“Really?”
“Yes quite. I may not be able to walk down a path at dusk, without tripping into these—”
“Herbaceous plants…”
“Herb plants.”
“Herbaceous!”
“These plants but that doesn’t make me…”
“What?”
Wolf scratched his head. “I’ve forgotten.”
Madeline laughed. “Admit it, you were thinking of that banner.”
“Leave me alone!”
“You have to be able to fly under any c
onditions. Wolf, you have not mastered that. Follow me.”
“Do I have to?”
“You’re my guest; please try to put on some proper manners. And stay out of the herbaceous bushes. They are somewhat poisonous. If you get pricked, you may develop a rare case of vertigo, which means you will never fly again. That would be a shame trading in a burning plane for a calculus textbook.”
“I’ll have you know I passed calculus with flying colors. And yourself?”
Madeline smiled, and her hair gleamed in the moonlight. “I don’t need calculus. After all, I will marry for money and looks. But it seems the pickings are rather shabby at the moment.”
“How considerate. By the way, that banner is now in flames.” They both laughed.
They walked into the swimming pool area which was in a flat area below the house. It overlooked the lake which wrapped around Chartwell Manor. Madeline sat back in a lounge chair. Wolf did as well. He said, “I take it this is to be the extent of the walking tour.”
“Yes. I’d hate to see you fall into the herbaceous bushes and get vertigo. Although there is poison ivy down by the lake, and perhaps you’d like to try landing in that.”
“Shall I eat the berries of that blasted herbaceous bush and see what happens? Would that satisfy you?”
“You sound like an Englishman.”
Wolf sighed and sat back in the chair. “Does anyone ever use this pool?”
“Sir Winston often skinny dips in it, when it suits his fancy. Don’t say anything; it isn’t a pretty sight.”
“That can’t be true.”
Madeline shook her head. “Wolf, you have a lot to learn.”
“What about you? Have you ever been on a plane?”
“I prefer to stay on the ground, but mind you, I don’t trip over imaginary things like yourself.”
Churchill's Ace (Epic War Series Book 1) Page 4
