“Hans, I now require your services as my new wingman.”
“What?”
“It’s no secret that you’re the best one in the squadron. With you by my side, we will avenge what has happened to Wolf.”
“You know that’s a bunch of crap. But I assume that is an order.”
“If it has to be, but I was hoping you would do it willingly. You may not like me, but I do offer you the best chance to live and see your fiance again. What was her name?”
“Helga.”
“Yes, a fine and pure name.”
Hans finished his drink and said, “One thing.”
“What.”
“Did you have Wolf’s parents killed?”
Zigfried deflected the question with ease. “I will not honor that with an answer. Where did you dream up such fantasies?”
“Yes or no.”
“Of course not... but I understand they weren’t loyal to the cause. That could lead to unpleasant consequences no matter where you live.”
Biggin Hill
The construction crews worked to get Biggin Hill operational, as soon as the Luftwaffe had done their damage. The hangar was unscathed, but the runway had massive bomb potholes scattered about in a random pattern. Smoke billowed for most of the day, as the RAF ground crews and accompanying civilians, first fixed the runways. Bomb craters were filled in. Then the rest of the night would be spent preparing the Spitfires for the next day’s struggle.
The general pilot quarters were a shambles from two direct hits, and two lorries were filled with tired pilots and taken over to Harding Barrow. Lieutenant Marsh saluted Captain Randolph as the “boys” were whisked away. “Don’t you worry Captain; we’ll have this place ship shape in time to get your buggers back in the air.”
Randolph said, “The men will get squared away and then off to bed.”
“Very well sir, you don’t want a sleepy-eyed pilot coming face to face with the Luftwaffe.”
“Carry on.”
“Sir.”
The lorries were greeted at Harding Barrow by Madeline and a hastily assembled RAF support staff. 24 pilots from Biggin Hill came through the front door and were fed a hot meal and assigned rooms. Some found their way to the veranda and relaxed with a round of drinks. Soon the noise grew louder and more boisterous. Madeline watched Randolph and the other pilots from the dining room and couldn’t help but think how the Harding Barrow had suddenly come back to life.
The circumstances may have been more than unusual, but all the same, the house was filled with laughter and perhaps a bit of senseless banter. Madeline paused as her father slowly made his way onto the veranda. Randolph brought Lord Ashton into the middle of the pilots and said, “Gentlemen this is my father. Lord Ashton was an ace with the RAF in the Great War.”
A cheer went up and the pilot’s prepared to toast him. He was given a glass full of brandy. They hoisted their glasses and drank. Lord Ashton put his glass on the table, without taking a sip. Randolph looked thru the window and nodded to Madeline.
The pilots sat back and watched the moon as it slowly rose on the horizon. One of them asked, “Lord Ashton, what can you tell us about the mindset of the German pilot?”
“Yes, well it has been over 20 years since I have done battle with the Hun. But that doesn’t matter. It comes down to shooting him down before he gets you. But yes, I do have some thoughts on the subject.”
Randolph was summoned inside to take a phone call. He looked stunned and then put down the phone. Madeline became concerned, “What is it?”
“I don’t know how to say this. Wolf was shot down today.”
Madeline stood there dumbfounded. So it finally has happened. “And?”
“He’s alive.”
Madeline said, “That’s good. I suppose... isn’t it?”
“From what I’ve been told, he was shot down by one of his men. A fanatical Nazi.”
Then that doesn’t count... does it? “Where is he?”
“With Winston at 10 Downing Street.”
“He’s here!”
“You know Winston, unconventional and all that. James is on his way to fetch you.”
“But why in the world is he doing that?”
Randolph kissed Madeline. “Please don’t be so daft.”
10 Downing Street
Wolf languished upstairs in the corner room of the Prime Minister’s residence. He was still trying to make sense of his world that had been turned upside down. Below him, the streets of London were still quite active.
However, as he looked closer, he saw sandbags stacked up and down the street, by the entrances to various government buildings. The British are preparing for a long war. More planes will be shot down and pilots lost on both sides. And for what? Why did Hitler and the Nazis start this war?
And what about his fate? Wolf’s parents were dead, and he had been purposely shot down by Zigfried, who was most likely beside himself that his nemesis had been killed. He worried about Hans, who had become like a brother to him. His friend was a competent fighter pilot, but that wouldn’t be good enough. Wolf knew he would be shot down...it was only a matter of time.
Wolf wanted to crawl out of his skin when he thought of Zigfried. The bastard was next in line to command JAG 23. That was Wolf’s squadron. Now the card carrying Nazi would do whatever it took to become an ace. There was no doubt in Wolf’s mind that would be accomplished. Zigfried was an excellent pilot. And Wolf had misjudged Zigfried Bockler... and badly.
What kind of a man would shoot down a fellow pilot? What else were these Nazis capable of? Are they crazy? No. Wolf sat on the edge of the bed and it hit him all at once. They’re not crazy. They’re evil. More than anyone can imagine and capable of anything.
Hans and the others stayed clear of Zigfried, Why? Because they were afraid of him, and the Nazis. Was that any way to live? The country is lost. Still I have a duty to Germany... but what is that now?
Wolf opened the window and looked down. Was it time to take hold of the drain pipe that was within reach of the window and climb down and disappear into the night? Where would he go? If nothing were done, Winston would have no choice but to send him off to Canada with the growing list of captured Luftwaffe pilots.
First, Wolf needed to get out of his uniform and into civilian clothes. And then there was the problem of his wounded shoulder. It needed further attention. Wolf opened the closet door in the room. He went through the clothes that were hanging on a closet rod.
Wolf went so far as to put on a jacket that he found. It was two sizes too big and looked to be something a “man of privilege” would wear to the theatre. Wolf decided that he wasn’t a man of privilege, just a fighter pilot without a plane. The door to the room opened. It was Madeline.
She looked as beautiful as ever. Even though he hadn’t seen her in two years, it was as if Wolf had never gone away. When he looked at her, a sudden calmness came over him. She stepped into the room. “That jacket doesn’t fit.”
“I know.”
Madeline went over to the window and looked down. “You’re the brave one.”
“What.”
“Thinking of climbing down this rusty drainpipe. You’d take a tumble into the bushes. Mind you they aren’t herbaceous bushes, but they do look rather prickly.”
“I haven’t tripped since I last saw you.”
Madeline closed the window. “But you did get shot down. And by your side.”
“Who told you that?”
“It’s a well-known fact. I’m sorry. I mean that’s not very fair.”
“Thanks for your concern.”
Madeline sat on the bed next to Wolf. She was close to him now. She touched the wound and he winced. “Winston’s physician will be here shortly. From what James told me in the car, it’s always the same. The doctor tells Winston that he must improve his diet, exercise a bit, and tone down his drinking. In the end, Winston and the doctor, will share a bottle of scotch and reminisce about the Charge of th
e Light Brigade.”
“That sounds like him.”
Madeline touched Wolf’s hand. “Why did you save Randolph? Granted, you shot him down.”
“I’m not sure why.”
“And if they would have found out?”
Wolf smirked, “I don’t think they would have given me the award for becoming an ace. More than likely they would have shot me.”
“That’s gratitude. Thank you for helping my brother escape.” Madeline turned to Wolf and kissed him. It was more of a peck and then she looked straight ahead. They stood up. “Winston wants to see you, in his study of course.”
Before Madeline had time to think, Wolf took her into his arms and kissed her like a woman should be kissed. It was long and deep. When it was over, he said, “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”
“I didn’t mind. Wolf, I’m very sorry about your parents.”
“It was more than a shock. And your father?”
“Oh, that. It seems he has been reinstated with full honors bestowed on him by the RAF. Winston saw to that. He hasn’t touched a drop since. It is wondrous how life turns on the smallest of things.”
“Yes.”
“And what happens to you now?”
“I have no idea. Perhaps Randolph could drop me off, over my lines, and I could get back to the business of flying.”
Madeline gave Wolf a stern look. “You mean I just kissed the enemy...”
* * *
Mr. Stuart eyed Wolf with suspicion as he came down the stairs with Madeline. He said with more than a sarcastic tone, “Don’t think I’m not watching you.”
“Sir.”
“Don’t sir me. And I’m going to bloody well make sure you’re out of here and on your way to Canada with the rest of your blokes. Winston has lost his senses.”
Madeline showed Wolf to the door of Winston’s den. She said, “Mr. Stuart many have during these trying times.” Wolf entered the den. Madeline turned back to face Mr. Stuart. “For the record good sir. Captain Kruger saved my brother, Captain Ashton in France. And without much thought to the danger that action afforded him. My brother still commands 72 Squadron at Biggin Hill. Only because of what Captain Kruger did…”
Madeline went inside Winston Churchill’s den and closed the door behind her. Mr. Stuart muttered to himself. “Well, I don’t like him. A German haunting 10 Downing Street, it just isn’t right.”
Winston was seated behind a large ornate desk. The den or what might be considered a mini-office for the Prime Minister was bigger than Winston’s den back at Chartwell. It still had the familiar aroma of Winston’s fine Cuban cigars. Winston looked at the manila folder on his desk. He put his hand to his chin and thought for a moment. I’m sorry; it has to be done. The truth has a nasty habit of rearing its ugly head at the most inopportune times. Unfortunately, that time is now. Winston poured himself a glass of scotch. “My physician is waiting for you in the adjoining room. Now…”
“Excuse me, Winston, before you start. What are my choices? Or do I have any?”
“Ah, you mean to remedy your present situation, which was unforeseen and unfortunate. To get shot down by a supposed comrade in arms… I can’t think of anything worse. And a Nazi to boot.”
Madeline poured herself a glass of scotch. Wolf asked, “Since when have you taken up drinking.”
“Recently, like right now.”
Winston went on. “Wolf, you have two choices, and I will respect your wishes. Tomorrow morning, I will have James drop you off at the prisoner holding area, at the Southampton docks. In a week or so, you will then be transported to Canada to sit out the war.”
Madeline said, “Sir Winston that would be a waste of Wolf’s unique abilities. There aren’t many who can claim to have been shot down by a fellow pilot... and one be it on the same side.”
Wolf sighed, “And the other?”
Winston surprised both of them. “I can offer you safe passage back to your unit. Via a parachute of course.”
Madeline ruefully said, “You can’t be serious. He’ll just come back over the next day to attack us.”
Wolf shrugged, “Actually, if it was early enough, it might be the same day.”
“That isn’t funny!”
Winston looked at the both of them. The struggles of being young. So much to do. So much to hope for. This bloody war makes it all...impossible. Winston’s face turned serious, and Wolf took notice. There wasn’t an ounce of joy from what he then said, “Wolf, there is something that I now must show you. It has to be done. I’m very sorry. But you have the right to know the truth about your parents.” Winston handed the folder to Wolf.
Wolf hesitated and then opened the folder. What he saw next were glossy pictures of his two dead parents. There were separate pictures for each one. They were on a slab in a Berlin morgue. A copy of an autopsy was behind the photographs. Wolf’s hands started to shake, and Madeline reached over to steady him.
She then moved closer to him as Wolf turned the horrifying pictures over and read the autopsy report. He spoke softly, “My father was shot twice, once in the chest and then the head. “My... poor mother’s skull was bashed in.”
Winston said, “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to tell me; I know who’s responsible for this. Zigfried and his Nazi friends. I got my parents killed.” Wolf dropped his head. “It’s as simple as that.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” said Madeline.
Winston sighed, “Wolf, it won’t change anything, but evil has a way of destroying all that is good.”
Wolf ripped his Knight's Cross with Swords award from his uniform. He dropped it on Winston’s desk, and it clanged against a fancy pen and pencil set. Madeline and Winston watched in disbelief. What was Wolf doing? He got to his feet and steadied himself. “Sir Winston I respectfully request a third option.”
Winston had a puzzled look on his face. Madeline was taken back and didn’t know what to think. Wolf was as confusing as ever. Winston said, “And what is that?”
“Sir Winston, I formally request to join the RAF.” Winston and Madeline were astonished. Before they could say anything, Wolf said, “I need a Spitfire; I heard that it is a good plane.”
Winston parsed his next words carefully, “Are you sure? You will be flying against what was once your country.”
“Country, that’s a joke! They saw fit to murder my parents! I have no family now.”
Madeline said with some tears in her eyes. “That isn’t entirely true.”
Winston stood up and shook Wolf’s hand. “England and His Majesty gratefully and wholeheartedly accept your request.”
“I would like to be posted at Biggin Hill. That’s in the middle of the action, and I did bomb it today.”
“You’ll be with Randolph,” said Madeline.
“And one more thing, Sir Winston. I’d like your permission to see Madeline.”
Madeline smirked at Wolf. “You might want to ask me about that.”
“I would have, but I was afraid you’d say no.”
Winston said, “Shouldn’t you be asking Lord Ashton that question?”
“Surely, when I meet him. But since it is your fault that you introduced me to Madeline, I thought I should ask you.”
“Of course. What do I do with your medal?”
“Stick it up Goering’s behind. I’m ready for the doctor now.”
“Madeline, show Captain Kruger of the Royal Air Force the way.”
“With pleasure.”
Mr. Stuart entered Winston’s private office as soon as Madeline and Wolf left. He was none too happy, and he made sure that the Prime Minister knew that. “Sir, I must insist that the German leave these premises as soon as possible. It is my duty to inform you, that you have broken every security protocol that I can think of.”
“His Majesty and I as well, do appreciate the fine work you and your able staff provide here. You’ll be happy to know that Captain Kruger will be leaving in the morning.”
<
br /> “Then I can soon expect the guards from the RAF to take custody of the prisoner.”
“The RAF will be escorting Captain Kruger in the morning, but that will be to Biggin Hill where he will be joining 72 Squadron.”
“What do you mean?”
“To put it plainly, Captain Kruger has joined the RAF.”
“Extraordinary. Can you trust that fact?”
“Really Mr. Stuart, he’s the very person whom I entrusted with the helm of my dingy during the Regatta on the Thames.”
“Oh.”
“And now he’s flying on the right side. Mind you, no one has a choice as to where they are born. Then of course, indoctrination soon follows and a child becomes a boy and then a man. And along the way, he learns that his country is right and just...no matter the circumstances and without question. Does that person ever pause and contemplate who and what he is fighting for? And if he did, would he have the character to see the truth? Would he yearn to see the truth?
“Who wants to be told, he has been serving and, therefore, living a lie. But Mr. Stuart, it is Wolf Kruger whose only dream was to fly, that has seen the Nazis for what they are. And he has lost mightily for it. First his parents, whose idea of power was to teach students the classics of the world, whether that was Chaucer or Plato. They were senselessly murdered for that and not toeing the Nazi line.
“How can any man stand back and accept that or sleep well knowing that the very country he goes into battle for has squeezed the life from what is good. No, Wolf didn’t accept that. You see it’s not as simple as Captain Kruger flying for England.
“Now he flies for humanity. That isn’t to say our country hasn’t fallen down at times. Our imperfections are well noted. But dear Mr. Stuart we are allowed to speak our piece. And when we go to bed, it is without fear that our door will be flung open and all that we stand for is taken away, never to see the light of day...”
Calais-Marck Airfield
Churchill's Ace (Epic War Series Book 1) Page 21
