Wings Over Persia (British Ace Book 7)

by Griff Hosker

  “They are not much use against aeroplanes though, sir.”

  “They will learn that in time. Now get some rest. Tomorrow we will make sure that our aeroplanes are air worthy and our next patrol will be the day after.”

  After I had showered I went to the office. It was more crowded these days. Sergeant Major Davis and Billings had been joined by four clerks and sergeants from Sir John’s staff.

  As Billings handed me my tea Sergeant Major Davis said, “Sir John is in Baghdad, sir. He is meeting with the resident and the commander of the garrison. He has asked for a battalion of Sikhs to be based here at the airfield.”

  I sipped the tea, “Interesting. Does he think we might be attacked?”

  One of the sergeants from Sir John’s staff said, “No sir. He likes the idea of a mobile strike force. He said that if we had had one then we could have reinforced Sulaimaniya by sending men there in the Vernons.”

  I could see that Sir John had a clever mind. I began to see that there was a chance we might regain some of the land we had lost.

  Sergeant Major Davis said, “The new squadron of DH 9As are due here tomorrow sir.”

  I nodded. That meant we would have one of our two squadrons of bombers returned to us. That was good news.

  Jack’s Ninaks returned just before dark. “Where are Henry’s Ninaks?”

  “They landed at Kirkuk. We would have stayed there too but with the Bristols and Vernons it is a little crowded.”

  “What is it like up there?”

  “They are all worried about Johnny Turk, sir. One of the Vernon pilots said he saw a build-up of troops on the border.”

  “You think they might invade?”

  “There is a chance sir. They have armour too.”

  “Luckily they have no aeroplanes to speak of. I wonder if Sir John has this information.”

  Jack nodded, “Yes sir, he does. They sent a radio message when the Vernons landed.”

  Perhaps that explained the imminent arrival of the Sikhs.

  Squadron Leader Williams would be landing at noon the next day. They would only be staying one night and then heading for Mosul. The airfield was not yet completed but the Ninaks could land there. Jack and I told the squadron leader all that we knew of the problems he might face. Jack summed it up succinctly, “Although you might be facing regular troops that is an advantage. You don’t worry about civilians. The ones we have been fighting are quite happy to hide amongst families. At least you can shoot and bomb anything in a uniform.”

  “However, Squadron Leader, they will have heavier calibre guns than the tribesmen.”

  “Sounds like a bit of a rum do then sir.”

  He was north country, like me. I smiled, “As you say, Squadron Leader, a rum do.”

  After they had left, the next day, I sought out Major Fox. I took Jack with me. Until Henry returned and the Vernons we had plenty of space in the offices. We found an empty room and I put Sergeant Williams on the door.

  “So, Jack, we need two Ninaks to take us as close as we can get to Sulaimaniya. We need to find a landing site and you need to keep the two buses under cover until we return.”

  He had his pipe going. Like me he used it to help him think. “It would be best if we landed as close to dusk as we could. We will need light to land but we don’t want inquisitive natives poking around. How far away from the town?”

  I looked at Ralph, “Four or five miles?” He nodded. “That will give us an hour to get there and a couple of hours to recce the place. Then an hour or so to return. It will mean we can take off at dawn.”

  Jack looked at the map and jabbed his finger at a spot to the west of the town. “There is a little valley here. It would be an easier and safer route into the town.”

  “Good. That makes sense.”

  “Sir, when you have found this Count ‘s headquarters you intend to take a squadron up there to bomb it?”

  “Yes, why?”

  “Well sir, it seems to me that you are missing a trick here. We can carry seven hundred pounds of bombs. You don’t need a squadron. A squadron will send them looking for cover. We will have two Ninaks there why not bomb them there and then? We are talking precision bombing anyway. If we send a squadron they will see them and hear them from a long way off. This way we can approach from Iran. They will not expect it to be the R.A.F.”

  I looked at Ralph. He shrugged, “Bombing is your bailiwick sir but it makes sense to me. It means we can attack early. They might even be in bed and the streets will be less crowded. It might be the best shot we have.”

  “Good. I will clear it with Sir John. When Henry returns along with the Vernons then we will do it.”

  Major Fox said, “And if I might suggest sir? Don’t shave. They have a berry here which darkens the skin. I will get some.”

  Sir John was spending more time in the city than the airfield and seeing him was easier said than done. In fact, Squadron Leader Woollett as well as the two squadrons of Vernons had returned before I had the opportunity to speak with him.

  “Sir, if I might have a word?”

  “Of course. Come to my office. By the way that was a damned fine show at Sherwana. The Army were impressed that they didn’t lose anyone.”

  “Thank you, sir. We did suffer some damage but we lost no one. We can repair our kites but men are in short supply.”

  He smiled and pointed to my face, “So, I take it from the fact that you have ceased shaving that you are seeking permission to go after this Russian?”

  “Yes sir. If the reports from Mosul are correct then the Turks and the Kurds will take the offensive. That would strike me as the perfect opportunity for those in Sulaimaniya to advance on Kirkuk. This Sheikh is playing a clever game. He gets others to do his dirty work and we do nothing about him!”

  “Classic tactics. I can see how a Russian might come up with such a strategy. Are you certain there is not someone else who could go? I would hate to lose you, Wing Commander.”

  “I have no intention of being captured sir. We will be going in at night and using the dark and shadows to hide us. We have decided to find the house and bomb it on the same raid. That way we ensure that we get him.”

  “That makes sense but don’t take out the Sheikh.”

  “But sir, he is treacherous.”

  He sighed, “I know that but the politicians and diplomats think we can use him.” He shrugged, “We just obey orders, Bill.”

  “And men will die because of this, sir.”

  “I know, Wing Commander, I know.”

  Jack asked for volunteers. Every pilot asked to come. In the end, he chose Flight Lieutenant Parr. He was a veteran and the best bomber in the squadron. We left the next morning and flew to Kirkuk where we refuelled. It felt different. There was no Hale, Williams or Robson there. Squadron Leader Barnes had made it his own. Sergeant Major Hill was, however, a career soldier and I felt confident that it would be a well-run station.

  We ate and then spent the early part of the afternoon resting before the short hop to Sulaimaniya. The land to the north was empty and we intended to use that approach to arrive, hopefully, unseen. The only people we saw were shepherds. I was not even certain that they had seen an aeroplane before. We saw the shadow that was Sulaimaniya in the distance as the sun began to dip in the west. Jack was in charge. We had no time to circle. He would have to rely on his skills and those of Parr. He dropped low and found a flat piece of ground. I was facing the north as we landed. The light was so bad that I wondered how they managed it. It was a bumpy landing but we were down in one piece. The two Ninaks then taxied closer to Sulaimaniya. It was not so much to save our legs getting there but we had no idea how hot our escape might be. The closer to Sulaimaniya the better. I saw that Jack had found a fairly good landing site. There had been small rocks but nothing to damage the undercarriage.

  When the engines stopped it was an eerie silence which descended. I climbed out and dropped my flying helmet into the cockpit. We were not wearing un
iform. Ralph had managed to acquire the local sandals, baggy trousers and turbans. With the bisht to cover us from head to toe we would, hopefully, blend in. I had my German pistol. I still had plenty of ammunition. Lastly, we both had a wicked looking dagger. The Kurds of this region all carried such a weapon. Mine was one of a pair I had acquired in the Baltic. I remembered the dapper Mr Rees giving them to me. That had been a lifetime ago.

  “Right, Jack. We should be back before dawn.”

  “You take care sir. We will turn the kites around so that we can have a speedy departure.”

  I followed Ralph and he led me down towards the gulley which would as it descended, become a verdant valley. I wanted us to get in unseen. If we had to get out fast then we would use the road. We could smell Sulaimaniya. It was the smell of animal dung and animals. It was the sweet smell of spices and charcoal. Then we began to hear the noises of the town. Once again it was animals, the squeals of children and the murmur of conversation. What was absent was the sound of motors and engines. This was a community which still used horses, donkeys and camels. In the distance, we heard the sound of the mullahs calling the people to prayer. This was a good time to be arriving in the town. The men would be heading to the mosques. It took some time to negotiate the rocky path in the dark.

  The walls of buildings soon loomed above us. Ralph waved a hand and we moved up the rocky slope. We took shelter behind a mud wall. We would use hand signals. Having spoken to Captain Peterson we knew which were the most likely buildings. One was close to where we would emerge in the town. If the gods were with us then that would be where we would find the Count. If not, we would have to continue through the town to search the other three sites.

  We moved down the wall keeping below the top. We could hear conversations and the sound of food being cooked over open fires. Ralph’s hand came up and I stopped. He ducked his head around the side and then waved me forward. I saw that we had come to a path which led from the town to the valley. During the day, it would be busy but not in the dark and after sunset. We kept our hoods up and our eyes on the ground. We walked slowly rather than urgently. We wished to blend in.

  We kept to the side. The only light came from open doors and there were mercifully few of those. An open door invited flies. As we neared the main road there was the buzz of conversation. It was men who had just returned from the prayers. The streets were beginning to become crowded. Knots of men stood on corners talking and smoking. The first large house was to the right along the main thoroughfare. As we neared it Ralph took out a cigarette and lit it. He had taken the packet from a dead Kurd during the attacks on Baghdad. They were the type the natives used. It allowed us to stop and put our heads together. I glanced over his shoulder. The house was guarded. That, in itself, made me wonder if this was the Count’s place.

  We continued along the road and passed the entrance. As we did so the door opened and I saw a large, well-dressed Kurd. He spoke to the men who were guarding the entrance. Although he spoke quickly I picked up enough of what he said to realise that he was a carpet merchant. That explained the fine house and the guards. Ralph had heard too and we crossed the road to make our way to the next house. We would have to pass the residence of Sheikh Mahmud. Even had we not been told where it was we would have known for the place was ringed with armed men. We steered clear of the actual building as the men guarding were viewing all who passed with suspicion.

  We turned from the main thoroughfare and headed down a narrow street. During the day, it looked to be where they had a small market. I spied the detritus of business. There were people on the streets. They took little notice of us and must have assumed that we, too, were on our way home after prayers. At the bottom of the street was a garden with lemon trees. It was the next fine house. There were no guards. We walked around the wall and saw no evidence of guards but we heard the sound of children’s laughter. This was not the Count’s residence.

  The last two possible targets were close together and lay in a quieter part of town. That brought with it added danger. If there were fewer people then we would be more likely to be noticed. We moved through streets which did not have large numbers of people in them. We stood out. The path Major Fox led us had many turns and corners. We were not taking a direct route. He twisted and turned and stopped frequently. He was checking to see if we were being followed.

  We had not even reached the house but I knew it was the one. I heard Russian. I spoke enough to understand the words. The Count’s name was mentioned. I had found my old enemy. The house had a high wall. It would make it secure from prying eyes. We stopped beneath an ancient and overgrown olive tree whose gnarled branches twisted over the wall. During the day, it must have given shelter from the sun Now that we had identified the house we needed to see what lay around it. That meant crossing the road and walking past the entrance. It was a risk but we had to reconnoitre properly. There were four guards at the door and all had at least two guns. Two of them looked like Russians. There was one native and then, lurking in the corner, another. I risked glancing across as we passed the gates. They were open and there was a large American car there. I averted my gaze. The vehicle would help us to identify it from the air as easily as anything else.

  Ralph headed back across the town. With luck, we would be able to reach the bombers well before dawn. Perhaps we moved faster than we intended but whatever the reason we were followed. Ralph kept to his tortuous route and it became obvious that there was someone behind us. They were wearing boots and we heard them on the stones close by the bazaar. If we turned then they would know that they had been spotted. We had to keep on the road. One advantage of a bisht was that you could slip your hand inside and have a weapon ready. I grabbed the handle of the dagger.

  If this had been in the air then I might have had a better idea of what to do but we were in the streets of an enemy held town surrounded by men who would slit our throats if they discovered our identity. Ralph Fox was a thinker and he knew what to do. We had passed the bazaar and we approaching the residence of Sheikh Mahmud. If we were trapped there then the game would be up. Ralph hissed, in Arabic, “Right!”

  He dived into an alley way and I followed. He ran down the alley. I heard the boots of the men behind. Their suspicions had been confirmed. One shouted, “Halt!” It was in Russian.

  Ralph took a sharp turn to the left and I almost missed it but I managed to make the turn. Ralph had stopped and he had his knife out. I turned and took mine out too. The two men, I knew there were two from the footsteps, suddenly rounded the corner. I grabbed the beard of the one on the left and rammed my dagger up towards his middle. His left hand came down to stop the blade was it was too late. The dagger sliced through his palm and tore into his guts. I jerked it to the side and felt hot blood and entrails slither over my hand. I put my left hand over his mouth and held the dagger there. The scream died in his throat and I lowered him to the ground.

  Ralph was in trouble. His man had managed to pull his own knife. I saw that Ralph was bleeding and the Russian was forcing his dagger towards Ralph’s eye. I grabbed the man’s hair and pulling back his head sliced through his neck. Ralph was showered in blood. I laid the body down. I saw that Ralph’s left arm was bleeding. I tore a piece of material from the body of one of the Russians and tied a tourniquet around his upper arm.

  Ralph nodded, “Thanks. We have to hide the bodies.”

  I looked around the alley. I could smell animals. I wandered down to where the smell seemed to be the strongest. I found a small gate and I opened it. There were four donkeys in a tiny stable. There was hay all around them. I went back to Ralph. “Found somewhere.”

  He tried to rise, “I’ll help.”

  I shook my head, “No you won’t. I need you to get me out of here. I will hide them.” I picked up the bigger body and draped it across my shoulders. I lumbered back to the gate and went into the stable. The animals moved, obligingly, out of the way. I dropped the first body and then cleared a space at the back. I
pushed the body there. I reached into the man’s jacket and took out the wallet and the papers. I needed to delay discovery. I went back and lifted the second body. I was tiring and it took longer. I laid the body on top of the first one and removed his papers and wallet. Then I put hay on top of them. The donkeys did not seem concerned about the smell of blood. I closed the gate and went back to Ralph.

  I helped him to his feet, “Lean on me. You direct me. I am disorientated.”

  “Back out and up to the bazaar. When we get there take the first road to the right and then the first road to the left. It will bring us to the main road. It is late. We will have to risk it.”

  As I helped him back up the alley I realised that since we had been followed we had seen fewer people. Most would be in their beds. We were not out of the woods yet. Ralph was wounded and could not move quickly. It had taken over an hour for us to make our way into the town. It would be a longer journey out. Each time we heard a noise we hid in doorways and behind walls. We looked suspicious. We had to avoid being seen. When we reached the road, I thought our troubles were over. They were not. There was a sandbagged position next to the last house. We could not get out that way. Ralph nodded to my left and I went down a twisting track which wound between houses. It headed downhill. I guessed it would bring us to the valley we had used to reach the town.

  When we reached the rough ground, I did not slow up but headed along a trail which looked like it headed towards the aeroplanes. Major Fox was now leaning heavily on me and I was almost carrying him. It made our progress incredibly slow. After a hundred yards or so I stopped. I had to release some of the pressure on the tourniquet. After I had done so and blood came from the wound I reapplied the tourniquet and listed to his chest. His breathing was laboured. I opened his bisht and saw that he also had a cut in his side. That was still bleeding. I took his turban from his head and improvised it into a bandage. I tied it tightly around his waist. His breathing had improved slightly but I had to get him to the aeroplanes. He needed a field dressing.