From Arctic Snow to Desert Sand (British Ace Book 6)

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From Arctic Snow to Desert Sand (British Ace Book 6) Page 5

by Griff Hosker


  “And a good officer never asks his men to do something that he is not willing to do. If the Count is right, then I will have to keep watch on the camel too.”

  The lorries arrived an hour after the Count had retired. Poor Bert and George looked like death after they climbed down from the two lorries. “I wouldn’t want to do that again in a hurry, sir. The seats were rock hard and there was no suspension at all. I am ready for a bite to eat and then get my head down.”

  I waved the sergeant and George closer. I explained the situation. Bert nodded philosophically but George said, “Sir, that’s not right!”

  “Baker we are all in the service and we are British. Now you volunteered for this. We will make the best of it. Vladimir will take you to my room. You can sleep there. Sergeant, you will relieve me in six hours. Baker you will relieve the Sergeant six hours after that. Six hours on and twelve hours off. It is just until the flotilla gets here tomorrow. Then I will get us accommodation on the Vindictive.”

  They nodded and saluted. Baker said, “Sorry sir, I was out of order. I have a big mouth and I need to learn to think before I speak.”

  “You do indeed, Baker, and you are not on a charge as I put it down to tiredness but don’t let it happen again.”

  “No sir.”

  I wandered over to the lorries as Vladimir took them into the house. Mr. Rees had been watching me. “You are a tolerant officer, Squadron Leader. Are you certain that you have no Bolshevik tendencies?”

  “I came through the ranks, sir. I understand what they are feeling. Don’t worry, if I need to become heavy handed then I will be. Horses for courses. These two lads will be keeping me in the air. I need them on my side.”

  He yawned, “Very well. I shall get some sleep too. When I wake, I will keep you company. Until then Vladimir will fill in for me.”

  “He doesn’t need to. I am happy to do it alone.”

  “You don’t speak the language. Humour me, Squadron Leader. This is all moving slightly faster than Mr. Balfour and Mr. Churchill intended. We all need to sing from the same hymn sheet.”

  By the time Vladimir returned I had checked the canvas and nothing had either come loose or been lost. “Mr. Rees says I am to wait with you, Squadron Leader.”

  “Then let us make it productive. I want to learn some Russian.”

  Surprisingly he looked pleased, “Really?”

  “Of course. This is your country and I should make the effort. Besides it will stop us becoming bored.”

  It proved to be quite enjoyable. I made sure that the words and phrases he taught me were pertinent to my role. I did not need to know how to ask for a cup of tea! I appeared to have an ear for languages. I had no idea how that came about but it meant I made rapid progress and young Vladimir was impressed. When Mr. Rees returned a few hours later I said, as he approached, “Let’s keep the lessons our secret. I would like to surprise Mr. Rees and the Count.”

  “Of course.”

  I felt slightly deceitful for I intended to use my new-found knowledge to listen to the Count as he spoke to his inferiors.

  “Not tired yet, Squadron Leader?”

  “No sir. Young Vladimir was delightful company.”

  “He is desperate to serve alongside the Count.”

  “I know and I have been keeping him safe with me.”

  “Safe?”

  “The Count’s confederates and aides have a habit of getting themselves killed. The Bolsheviks have a price on his head. Those four bodyguards are just the latest. Last month the other four he had threw themselves in front of him to save themselves from a grenade.”

  “They are loyal.”

  “Their loyalty comes at a price. If he is hurt, he will have their families imprisoned. All of them work on his estates. He can be quite ruthless but he brings many soldiers to fight against the Bolsheviks. London wishes him safe.”

  “I see. Well at least I shall be out of his sight when I am on Vindictive.”

  “Perhaps. Rear Admiral Alexander-Sinclair has also had run ins with him. You heard about the sabotage on the carrier?” I nodded. “The Count was convinced it was members of the crew. He advised the Rear Admiral have them flogged until he found out who they were. That did not go down well.”

  “Did the Admiral find out who it was?”

  “He did. It was Bolshevik dockyard workers in Memel. That is why he relocated to Finland. He felt it was safer. I agree with him. Your Camel will be safer on board the Vindictive.”

  “There is nowhere else we could have her, sir. There is neither airfield not hangar!”

  “I think, Squadron Leader, that you are a victim of your own success. The exploits of the Royal Flying Corps, taking off and landing from little more than farm fields made Mr. Balfour assume that you could land anywhere. That and the escapes you had in France gave you a certain reputation.” He nodded, “I have read your record. It is impressive. You have a long career ahead of you.”

  I shook my head, “I am not sure about that.”

  Sergeant Hepplewhite woke me as soon as the flotilla arrived. “Sir, sir, the fleet is here! The carrier is tying up.”

  “Right, get our gear from the room and take it to the lorries. I will get Vladimir and Mr. Rees. We will get the Camel, and us, aboard, as soon as possible.”

  He grinned, “And not before time either sir. It has been hard sneaking around this house, like!”

  “Sorry about that, Sergeant, but the Count has his rules.”

  “And those bodyguards of his, they make my skin crawl. Steer clear of them, sir. They are nasty pieces of work. I heard them with the servant girls… it wasn’t right sir.”

  I had to agree with the sergeant. Alexei, Igor, Ivan and Boris were thoroughly unpleasant. They were not soldiers, they were thugs. I had never seen their like in the British Army. They were a new phenomenon for me.

  I woke Vladimir. “Get the lorry drivers and have them drive the aeroplane around to the quay. The carrier is here.”

  He was up in a flash, “Really, Squadron Leader? And will I be allowed on board?”

  “As Mr. Rees and I will be aboard then so shall you!”

  There was an infectiously happy mood amongst us all. I had been on tenterhooks the whole time I was with the Count. I was afraid of upsetting him. I was not worried about me but I was aware that I represented Britain. I would not be the one to break the accord. I know now that I should have told the Count that the flotilla had arrived but he was asleep and I did not relish getting by his guards. Nor did I wake Mr. Rees. He had spent more hours awake than even I had. The Count was very demanding.

  I clung to the running board of the lorry as the drivers drove around to the quay. The flotilla was made up of C- Class cruisers and W- Class destroyers. Vindictive had been a C-Class cruiser before she had been converted. However, the flight deck made her look completely different.

  “Sergeant get the ropes off the Camel. I will go and see about getting her aboard.”

  I almost ran to the side of the carrier. The gangplank was just being lowered. Two marine sentries stood there with rifles at the ready. A young sub-lieutenant came down the gangplank, “Squadron Leader Harsker?”

  “Yes.”

  “Sub Lieutenant Nash. If you would like to come aboard, the Captain wishes to speak with you before the others arrive.”

  “I have an aeroplane needs bringing aboard.”

  “Yes sir, Chief Petty Officer Ashcroft will go ashore and help your men. They are just rigging the crane up.”

  I followed him up the steps. At the top the two marine sentries there saluted as well. “Are you expecting trouble, Lieutenant?”

  “Since the sabotage the Captain is ultra-cautious sir. You only have two men, is that right?”

  “Yes, a sergeant and a mechanic.”

  “Good, Captain Parr does not like too many new faces.”

  There was palpable tension on the carrier as I was taken to the Captain’s cabin. There was a marine sentry on duty at the d
oor to his cabin. His eyes flickered to my uniform for a moment and then returned to stare at a spot on the wall.

  The Sub Lieutenant knocked, “Come.”

  As we entered the young officer said, “Squadron Leader Harsker sir.”

  “Thank you, Nash. Have my steward bring us some tea eh?”

  When the door closed, he said, “Take off your coat Squadron Leader.” I did so. The cabin was warm. “Rum do this.”

  I was aware that the Navy had been, in effect, told what to do by the Count and the Navy never enjoyed that. “Sorry about this, sir. The Count is a strong-minded man.”

  “I know. Still it will give my young pilots something to keep them occupied. They are desperate for action.”

  The Steward arrived with the tea. “Put it down there, Barker.” The Captain poured the tea. I could see he enjoyed his from the smile on his face. “Ah that’s better. Helps a man to think, what? So, the problem is the Bolshevik fleet. The Rear Admiral is a little worried about their guns.” He leaned forward. “Between you and me he intends to wait to speak with the Count on board the flagship. That is why I am having a talk with you now.”

  “Thank you, sir. At the moment, we can do nothing anyway. My riggers have to assemble the aeroplane. The Count does not seem to understand that. He appears to be a man who thinks that simply because he wishes it then it will happen.”

  “You will find many White Russians are like that. Our other problem is sabotage. I am afraid that we have a great deal of security. As soon as your Camel is on board and we have taken on coal then we shall moor out in the bay. It is a tricky little port. There is a reef out there to catch the unwary. If the Count, or anyone, wishes to speak with us they will come out on the tender.”

  I smiled. The Count would hate that. “And I will need to be able to practise take offs and landing.”

  “Of course. You were land based.”

  I nodded, “How many aeroplanes do you carry sir?”

  “We can carry up to twelve although that would make us a little overcrowded but we just have three at the moment. Yours makes four. The rest will be coming in Spring. The new commanding officer for the squadron will be taking over. Major Donald. He is in England at the moment training the new pilots.” I nodded. “He is a little old fashioned. He does not like the new titles. A good chap though.”

  “I’m sure.” I put the cup down. “The thing is, sir, the Count is anxious to attack these German aeroplanes as soon as possible. The reason I had been foisted upon you is for that purpose; to destroy the enemy air force before it can hurt you.”

  “Aeroplanes would find it hard to attack a fleet, Squadron Leader.”

  I nodded, “I am not familiar with ships sir but I believe that these cruisers have their armour on the waterline and at the sides and turrets.” He nodded. “So, a bomb dropped on the deck would only have, what, an inch or so of armour?”

  “Actually, we have a wooden deck but the main deck has an inch of armour.”

  “The three aeroplanes you have on board can carry a total of three hundred and ninety pounds of bombs. They could destroy one of your ships easily. I believe that your main armament and secondary armament is designed to stop ships. The aeroplane has not yet been used to attack ships but one day…”

  “I see. Most illuminating. So, it would appear that we need you to destroy the enemy aeroplanes. When I see the Rear Admiral, I will present your most persuasive arguments to him.”

  “I take it he is not keen on the idea?”

  “He and the Count have had words. The Rear Admiral is no diplomat. They parted on bad terms.” He finished his tea. “Well you will want to meet your men and get your aeroplane aboard, I take it?”

  “Aeroplane first and then I shall meet the officers and crew.”

  He went to a voice pipe on the wall. “Sub-Lieutenant Nash to the Captain.”

  The officer must have been waiting nearby for he was there within a couple of seconds. “Mr. Nash will offer any help and advice you may need. He is the coordinating officer for the aeroplanes. Mr. Nash when the Squadron Leader’s gear comes aboard show him where he will be billeted.”

  “Sir.”

  As he led me through the labyrinth of corridors to the main deck he said, “I saw the V.C. on your chest sir. Did you meet the King?”

  “I have met him twice.”

  “Gosh, sir, what an honour.” He looked wistfully at my medals as he stood aside to allow me to go up the ladders first, “I don’t think they will give many medals out for this little action sir.”

  “Why not, Mr. Nash?”

  “If this was important then we would have a battleship with us, the Warspite or one of her sisters. The Bolshevik ships would be blown out of the water by her guns.”

  “Mr. Churchill does not wish this to be a full-blown war. If it is any consolation to you, Mr. Nash, I never tried to win a medal. They just came because I was doing my duty. Do your duty, that is all that may be asked of any officer.”

  “Sir.”

  We had reached the flight deck. I realised that I would have to learn the route myself. I could not be reliant on the young officer all the time. I looked for my Camel and I could not see her.

  “Where is the Camel?”

  He pointed to the stern and two derricks. “There is a hangar below the decks, sir. They will be there. This is the fastest way to get to the hangar. The alternative is to go through the ship and that means negotiating crowded corridors. Unless we are launching or retrieving aeroplanes this is the quickest way. Of course, if we are in the North Sea and there is a gale blowing then this is the most dangerous place to be.” He pointed. “No guard rails.”

  By the time we reached the hanger I saw that my two fitters were unpacking the Camel. There were some R.N.A.S standing and watching. They saw me and saluted. I said, “Sergeant, do you need any help?”

  My two fitters were both tired and would not normally ask for help. However, Sergeant Hepplewhite nodded, “A little would not go amiss, sir.”

  I pointed to the other fitters, “If you chaps would give my men a hand.”

  They looked at Sub Lieutenant Nash. I walked over to them. “I am sorry that was not a request. Until Major Donald arrives I am in charge of the aerial element of this carrier. I am your commanding officer and when I shout jump you say ‘how high?’ Clear!” I used the voice I had used when a sergeant. I saw a wry smile on Sergeant Hepplewhite’s face.

  The fitters all roared, “Sir, yes sir!”

  One said, “What can we do Sarge?”

  I turned to Sub Lieutenant Nash, “I think we can go to my cabin now and then I shall meet my officers and sergeants.” I pointed to one of the fitters who was standing with his hands on his hips watching events. “You, pick up my luggage and bring it along!”

  “Sir!”

  I had not asked for this command but if I had been given the duty then I would do just that; command!

  Chapter 3

  I did not bother to unpack. I had too much to do. I dumped my greatcoat on top of the luggage and felt my cheeks. I really needed a shave but it was more important to meet the men I would be leading. “Now, Lieutenant, if you would take me to meet my men eh? Then you can toddle off and catch up with your other duties. I have taken up too much of your time as it is.”

  “Oh no, sir. I am attached to you for the duration of your stay. The captain is keen for me to work with you.”

  “What do you normally do, Mr. Nash?”

  “I am operations officer for the squadron, sir.”

  “Have you flown?”

  “Not yet sir but I hope to.”

  My heart sank. They had given me an officer with no flight experience to organize and support our operations. He might be keen as mustard but someone who understood aeroplanes would have helped. This was not a good start. “Right, then lead on MacDuff.”

  He spoke as he walked. “We have an operations room, sir. Well, we call it that. It is a room with a backboard and I thought we might
use it for briefings and that sort of thing. We haven’t used it yet. The crews are waiting there.”

  It was a cosy operations room. The six men who were already in there almost filled it. I had no idea how they would cope with twelve aeroplanes and their crews. They jumped to attention as I entered. “At ease, smoke if you wish.”

  As they took out cigarettes and pipes I saw that they were all very young. I would say most had enlisted in the last years of the war straight from school. I sat on the edge of the desk and realised, as I look into their eyes, that they were in awe of me. When did I change? It did not seem five minutes since I had been a young air gunner looking up to Lord John and the other pilots. Now I was the one they saw as someone to emulate. The war had changed me. There was no going back.

  “You know who I am, Squadron Leader Harsker. I am not your permanent commanding officer; that is Major Donald. I will not try to change you into Royal Air Force pilots. What I will do, is teach you how to fight German aeroplanes flown by Bolsheviks and I will try to keep you alive. Now that you have your smokes going I will light my own pipe and you can introduce yourselves.”

  I used the pipe to give me time to observe them unobtrusively. I would learn much in the next pipeful of Captain Hesketh’s rum soaked tobacco. Flight Lieutenant Greaves spoke first and that told me that he was the most confident. His voice raced along like a German machine gun. He even introduced his air observer too. I saw a wry smile from Andy Hood, his observer. He knew his pilot. That told me they were a good team.

  Peter Rogers was a confident pilot. He waited until his comrade had spoken and then introduced himself. He had a measured and calm voice. I noticed that he smoked a pipe. He was composed while Greaves was excitable. He allowed his air observer and gunner, John Charlton, to introduce himself. He reminded me of Lumpy. Rotund and northern. His flat vowels made him sound, somehow reliable.

  Lieutenant Robert Newton was the most nervous of the three and, I could clearly see, the youngest. He had an almost shy look to him. He reminded me of a skittish deer on Lady Mary’s estate. His observer, Ralph Hunt was the one I took an instant dislike to. He had a sneer on his face as his pilot spoke and when he introduced himself he did so arrogantly. He bordered on the impertinent. I put that to the back of my mind. I would deal with relationships later on.

 

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