Wings Over Persia (British Ace Book 7)

by Griff Hosker

  I put my arm around his shoulders, “You did well Pilot Officer Grundy.” I turned to the men with the stretcher. “Get this man in a lorry and take him to the residency.”

  “Sir.”

  We had had a phony war up until now. We had dropped bombs, we had strafed but we had been safe and had no losses. Now with four deaths and two wounds it was becoming very real.

  I was having a cup of tea when Squadron Leader Harris and his Vernons landed. We had reported to Baghdad but as Jack and Henry had not landed we did not know if we had had more losses. Benson handed Arthur a mug of tea when he landed. I told him of the raid. “We did what we set out to do but it cost us, Arthur.”

  “And we found the enemy too. The bombsights work but the Vernon needs a proper gunner. We found rebels on the three roads in and out of Kirkuk. They are trying to seal it off.” He pointed to the sky. “The rains are due to start. We won’t be able to use the roads. Captain Willoughby told me that in Kirkuk they are having to ration.”

  “Then tomorrow you had better take your Vernons and bring up supplies. I will come back with you and bring up the Snipes. We have to hold on until the Bristols get here.”

  “Bristols?”

  “They are sending a squadron of Bristols to be based here.”

  “Thank God for that. They are a handy little bus.”

  “And one more thing, Arthur, we had better be prepared to airlift the residency to Baghdad. If I am correct this Russian Count would not baulk at using the women as hostages. I will go and see Lord Palmer tonight and warn him.”

  Sergeant Williams drove me. The air gunner was ready to be returned to the airfield. I asked for a private audience with the resident. “You look serious, Wing Commander.”

  “The enemy are tightening the noose around you sir. Squadron Leader Harris reports them cutting the three roads into Kirkuk. When the rains come we might not be able to keep you supplied.”

  He smiled, “I am not going to abandon my post not when there are two other residents north of here and they are in as much danger as I am. Would you have us all abandon our posts? It would take huge numbers to retake this land. No, Wing Commander, I am afraid that it is up to you and your aeroplanes to hold on to what we have.”

  I admired the resident but he was ignoring the very real danger that Count Yuri Fydorervich represented. He was ruthless. “Very well sir. We have a squadron of fighters which will be based here. I know that you may not be happy to hear this but one solution might be to bomb those parts of Kirkuk which we suspect of housing insurgents.”

  “That seems somewhat drastic, Wing Commander. There would be non-combatants, women, children, the old; are you sure?”

  “It is a last resort but if I might suggest notices around the town warning of the consequences of further unrest.”

  “Quite. That would seem to be the best solution and certainly preferable to bombing them. I will have a word with the elders of the town.”

  I nodded but I knew that there would agents of Count Yuri Fydorervich already in Kirkuk. He had used them in the Baltic and they would be stirring up anti-British sentiments in the young who would see this as a chance to get away with murder, quite literally!

  As I headed back across the hall Lady Isabel came out of the dining room. “How is the leg Wing Commander?”

  “Healing. Lady Isabel I just made an offer to your brother. I can fly the women and children out of Kirkuk and take you to Baghdad.”

  She shook her head, “That is most kind of you but firstly our place is here with the men and secondly, from what I hear, Baghdad is just as dangerous.”

  I was surrounded by madmen!

  The gunner, Flight Sergeant Winspear, was in the back of the lorry smoking a cigarette. “How are you Winspear?”

  “Better than Mr Clarke sir. He did his best to save the bus but…”

  “You both did well. And how is the leg?”

  “Not so good sir. They have given me something for the pain but the doc reckons it will hurt like blazes when it wears off.”

  “We will have you back in Baghdad first thing tomorrow.”

  I sat in the cab with Sergeant Williams. “It hit him hard, sir. They had been together for over a year.”

  “I know Sergeant. It is almost like a marriage. I think I will put him with Pilot Officer Cole. He lost his gunner. They might be good for one another.”

  Once again, I spent the night at Kirkuk. There was a sombre feeling about the place. The little cemetery was growing.

  Cole flew back with Foster. The Air Ambulance took Winspear and I sat in the rear of Squadron Leader Harris’ Vernon. The only aeroplanes we would be able to get up the next day would be the Snipes. Flight Lieutenant Ritchie was heading north to patrol the road, as we headed south. I hoped that our two attacks had slowed down the incursions from the north and the east. We now needed a strategy to defeat the ones who were already here.

  “Any suggestions, Arthur?”

  “There is one. It is simple but it is a little drastic. Have your aeroplanes fly as low as you can and shoot any man with a gun. It will drive them underground. The ones who attack in the towns can be dealt with by the army. Just keep patrolling the roads, sir, bombing the hell out of any village which looks like it might cause trouble and make them places the rebels avoid.” He shrugged, “It is the best that I can come up with, sir.”

  “And it is more than I had. We will try that.”

  Once again, we were greeted by palls of smoke from Baghdad. Arthur was right. We had to cut off the supply of men and weapons to the towns. If we cut off their supplies then eventually the cells would wither and die. It still did not address the real problem: Count Yuri Fydorervich. The only solution to that would be to fly across the border and bomb his headquarters. That seemed like a tall order. As I climbed down from the cockpit an idea was forming in my mind. It was not an instant solution but, with planning and the advice of Major Fox, I believed that we had a chance.

  When we landed I left Squadron Leader Harris to see to the Vernons and the Vimy. I went to the office. Sergeant Major Davis was alone. “No clerk, Sarn’t Major?”

  “All hands to the pump today sir. Major Fox had to use every one we could spare for sentry duties. Some Arabs tried to cut a hole in the fence last night. A couple of our lads were wounded. It is like the Alamo here, sir.”

  “I take it the Major is being busy?”

  He grinned, “Yes sir.”

  “And the Group Captain?”

  He frowned and lowered his voice, “The Group Captain is in his quarters, sir, unwell… if you know what I mean. I daresay he will snap out of it but I have his man looking after him. We are managing.”

  There was a great deal which was unsaid. My plans would have to be delayed until the ship was steadied. “Thank you, Sergeant Major. I am certain that the Group Captain appreciates your discretion.”

  “He is a good bloke, sir. This job would tax a much younger man.”

  “Orders for tomorrow, Sergeant Major. I will lead the Snipes. The Vernons will take whatever supplies can be spared to Kirkuk. I want the remaining Ninaks making airworthy. The day after tomorrow we make the roads around Kirkuk, Mosul and Sulaimaniya empty of any who might be insurgents. I will see the squadron leaders before dinner.”

  He had been writing everything down. When I finished he looked up, “And you sir, how is the leg?”

  “Stiff Sarn’t Major.”

  “Well you look out for yourself sir. The last thing we need is for you to be… unwell.”

  “Don’t worry, Sergeant Major. I won’t.”

  “And when you have a minute sir there is a pile of paperwork that the Group Captain has not read. We had a mail delivery from Heliopolis. It went on from here towards India. They have another airfield at Basra now. They are using a Vimy like Mr Carruthers’ air ambulance.” He pointed to a sack. “There was mail for the squadrons. It will cheer them up eh sir?” He picked up a pile of brown envelopes. “This is the mail for the co
mmanding officer sir.”

  “I’ll sort through it. I will get changed first.”

  I went to my quarters and changed. I knew what was going through the Sergeant Major’s mind. He had served in the Great War. He had seen officers crack under the pressure. Air warfare was a new kind of war. We were learning how to fight in the air but there was also a battle of the mind. I looked at the photographs of Beattie and Tom and Beattie and Mary which lay on the bedside table. I had to be strong for them. Perhaps I would leave the service. When I had been in the mess in Heliopolis I had heard of some pilots who had left the service to begin commercial flying. From what they had told me it was well paid and would certainly be safer than doing what I did. More importantly, I could be with my family. Beattie had often spoken of bringing the children to my posting. This was a war zone. I could not bring them here. I thought of Lady Isabel and the ladies of the garrison at Kirkuk. I would not put Beattie and the children in their situation.

  As I walked back in a fresh uniform and feeling cleaner the rain started. As my dad might have said, it belted down! It was just a few yards I had to run but my fresh uniform was soaked. Sergeant Major Davis looked up, “The locals warned us about this sir. We will have rain for a couple of days. The roads will turn to mud and the rivers will overflow their banks.”

  “Will it affect us here, Sergeant Major?”

  “Will we be flooded, sir?” I nodded. “We are far enough west of the Tigris and high enough to avoid the worst of it but it is a good job we have aeroplanes. I don’t think vehicles will be travelling far for a while.”

  “Then it is imperative that we get whatever supplies we can up to Kirkuk. I will go through that paperwork now.”

  I sat behind the Group Captain’s desk and took out my pipe. “I’ll get you a brew sir. I could do with one myself. At home, sir, when we get a shower it makes everything greener, brighter, if you know what I mean. Out here there is no green. It will just get browner. Doesn’t seem right.”

  I nodded. The rain made me miss England more than anything. I wondered if there would be a letter for me in the sack of mail. Then I realised there wouldn’t be. My family would still be in France. I would have to make do with the photographs. I opened the envelopes first with a paper knife and then took the tea from Davis. I was delaying reading the missives. The hot sweet tea was comforting and I began to read. The first four contained information about the new mail flights, promotions due to time served, lists of spares which were being sent. The fifth was good news. The Bristol Fighters would be here within a week and, even better news, there was a squadron of Ninaks. They were on their way across the Med and the ministry had decided that they were going to build an airfield at Mosul. With the one at Basra and our emergency field at Kirkuk, we now had more choices of places to land. The Ministry of War was also sending men to replace the soldiers who had been wounded and killed.

  The last letter, the sixth one had good news and bad news. Group Captain Wainwright had applied for retirement and it had been granted. I was to take over temporary command until a new station commander could be appointed. The bad news was that Squadron Leader Harris had been promoted. He was to go to India and run a squadron on the North-West Frontier. He was ordered to go there on the next mail flight. Sergeant Major Davis had told me that they were going to be every six days. I would miss Arthur.

  By the time I had dealt with the paperwork it was time for my meeting. Major Fox arrived in time for the meeting. The three squadron leaders looked drawn. I used the office for the briefing.

  “First of all, I have to tell you that I am in temporary command here. Group Captain Wainwright will be heading back to Blighty. Retirement.”

  Jack nodded, “Good, the old boy has served his country. Well done sir.”

  “Just temporary, there is a new station commander on his way. Arthur, congratulations to you. You have been put in command of a squadron of bombers in India. You will be leaving when the next mail flight arrives in five days’ time.”

  “But my job here is not completed, sir!”

  “We have five days and I have a feeling that the next five days will be the busiest we have had.”

  Henry tapped his pipe out in the ashtray, “Why sir?”

  I pointed my finger to the ceiling where the rain beat down on the roof. “Rainy season. Nothing can move on the road. I know we have closed the rat holes temporarily but I am betting that there will be men in place in Mosul, Kirkuk and Sulaimaniya who will be ready to rise. “I turned to Ralph Fox. “What do you think, Major?”

  “I think you have it aright sir. The Arabs used to get boisterous with the Turks in the rainy season. They knew that the Turks couldn’t use the roads and places like Kirkuk became isolated. Yes, I expect an escalation. We saw the beginnings the other night when they tried to breach our fences.”

  “So, we have tomorrow to get the Ninaks air worthy. We take supplies to Kirkuk tomorrow and the day after all three squadrons of bombers will head out and look for any insurgents. Bomb them. I want our aeroplanes over Sulaimaniya, Mosul and Kirkuk. We now have fuel at Kirkuk. Refuel there. Squadron Leader Harris make sure that your Vernons take up plenty of ammunition, food and emergency rations. If Kirkuk becomes cut off I want them to be able to hold on until we can reach them.”

  We had questions, which I answered and then they went to brief their pilots. “Major Fox I would like a chat after dinner. I have a little something in mind.”

  “Sir.”

  When I entered the Group Captain’s quarters I could smell the alcohol. His man, McHale looked up guiltily, “It helps him sleep, sir. He suffers terrible with his nerves.”

  I nodded, “I understand, McHale. You are very loyal. The Group Captain is going home.” The aircraftsman gave me a sharp look, “Nothing like that. He applied for retirement and it has come through.” I took the envelope and laid it on the bedside table. “When he wakes and is ready to read it you might tell him. I am certain we can get him a berth on a mail aeroplane.”

  He looked relieved, “Thank you sir. The climate here and all the troubles. It isn’t right sir. He has done his bit.”

  “Of course.”

  Having dead air crew as well as ground crew created a sombre atmosphere in the mess. There was little point in having a sort of false bonhomie. It was better to allow everyone to make adjustments. I had learned that in France. I had given Squadron Leader Harris the letter telling him of his promotion. “I don’t like to leave you with the job unfinished, sir.”

  “Who is your Number Two?”

  “Flight Lieutenant Waite sir.”

  “And?”

  He smiled, “And he can run the squadron.” He shook his head, “Why do we think that we are all indispensable. I shall miss you sir and I have learned a great deal from you.”

  “And I, you. I will let you tell him yourself. It may only be temporary but if I can swing a promotion for him then I will do so.”

  “Thanks sir.”

  I went with the Major to the office. There was no-one there. I took with me a bottle of whisky. Major Fox looked at the bottle, “Serious is it sir?”

  “Let us just say that I wish to pick your brains and to ask you to do something which is somewhat risky.” I opened the bottle and poured two large ones.

  “Cheers!”

  “Cheers. What I have in mind involves you and I going into Maivan to discover the headquarters of Count Fydorervich.” Major Fox almost choked on his whisky. “Don’t waste it and hear me out. We both speak the language and we don’t need to get close. In fact, it would be better if we didn’t. All we need is the rough location and then I can bring bombers in and destroy it.”

  “That would mean attacking Iran. The Shah won’t be very happy.”

  “I am prepared for the consequences.” I had thought this through. If it meant the end of my career so be it. That would mean the Fates had decided I was not cut out to be in the R.A.F. It would not stop me from flying commercially.

  He nod
ded and sipped more of the amber liquid, “How would we get in and out?”

  “Two Ninaks. We get dropped our side of the border. We slip over under cover of darkness and scout it out first thing.”

  “I am intrigued, how will you identify it?”

  “Count Yuri Fydorervich is no hero; far from it. He will have huge guards protecting him and he will be living in comfort. That is why I have to go in. When we bomb it, we will have to be precise. Maivan is in Iran and that means one of the bombers has to be sure he knows where it is.”

  “In that case, I am game. When?”

  “We both know that unrest will begin in the next day or so. When we have quashed whatever they have in store then we will go.”

  He raised his glass, “Here’s to another madcap adventure. Life is never dull with you around, sir. But who will command the airfield when you are gone?”

  “I laughed, “I am certain that Sergeant Major Davis will make a better stab at it than either the Group Captain or myself!”

  “I think you might be right, sir.”

  Chapter 6

  It had been some days since I had been in a Snipe. I made sure that the usual walk around I did was as thorough as possible. I was acutely aware that the Snipe was the only full squadron we had until the Bristols arrived. I had briefed my men and told them exactly what we would be doing. We would fly over Baghdad first. If there was any unrest then I intended to quash it. We would head north to Kirkuk, land and refuel before checking all of the roads which led to Kirkuk. The rains had not let up but the roads had not deteriorated enough to tempt the natives into full-fledged rebellion. I had been assured by everyone from the resident in Baghdad down that this would be the case.

  Once I was satisfied I mounted my Snipe and we took off. The rains had put out the fires. Blackened pockets showed where they had been. We flew in a long line. As I had told them, we were playing follow my leader. Baghdad was much bigger than Kirkuk. The resident had used the army to hold key road junctions and buildings. It was a clever strategy. I knew where they were and we flew over them. The bazaar was quiet. I saw a couple of sentries wave at us as we overflew them. We headed for the Union Flag and the British headquarters. That too was quiet.