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

by Griff Hosker

  The taxi pulled up and I paid him off. I had no key. I had thought, when I left with Bates all those months ago, that I would be back the next day. I knocked on the door, feeling foolish. There was no answer and so I knocked again, harder. I heard Beattie shouting, “Hold on! I’ll be there when I can!”

  I heard footsteps coming down the stairs of the house which now seemed tiny and then the door opened and there was Beattie holding a giggling Tom in a towel. He was dripping wet. He had been in the bath. Beattie just burst into tears. I hurried in for it was a chilly evening. After shutting the door, I said, somewhat lamely, “I had no key. Sorry!” She had her hands full and so I put my arms around the two of them and hugged them. My face was next to Tom’s and I saw that he had more hair and was making deliberate noises. When had that happened? Where was the tiny baby I had left?

  Beattie had composed herself, “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming home? I had a letter last week and you said nothing then. Oh, look, I must dry Tom. Go into the lounge and make yourself a drink. I am all of a flutter!”

  I kissed her on the cheek and said, “Sorry.”

  For some reason that made her burst into tears again and she hurried back upstairs. I put my bag down and took off my flying coat. I went to the drinks’ cabinet. There was a half empty bottle of whisky and I poured myself one. The fire looked welcoming and I sat down. The furniture was not ours it was rented and, as I sat in the armchair I thought about Mr. Balfour’s words. Would I want to take Beattie and Tom with me to the Middle East? Would that be fair? Was this fair? It might be better to buy a nice house and then, at least, my family would be comfortable and safe.

  “Bill, do you want to come upstairs and say goodnight to your son?”

  I put down my whisky and my pipe and headed up the stairs. She held Tom in her arms. He looked scrubbed, clean and rosy. He smiled at me but in a shy way as though he did not know who I was. That was not a surprise. I held my hands out and he buried his head in Beattie’s shoulder.

  “Thomas, this is your father, give Daddy a cuddle.” She nodded for me to hold him.

  I did and noticed that he was much heavier than he had been all those months ago. He kept his head turned away from me and so I blew a raspberry behind his ear. He giggled and so I did it again. I put my mouth close to his ear and said, quietly, “Thomas, I am your father. I promise that when you grow I will be there to help you fly and there to catch you when you fall. I will always be thinking of you even though I may not be close.”

  Beattie nodded, “It is lovely but you know he can’t understand that.”

  “I know but he might recall the words in some dream when he is older.”

  She nodded and held her arms out for him. “Go down and I will get him to sleep. There is some supper left in the oven. I have eaten already. I was going to have it tomorrow but now that you are home we can go shopping. We can have a feast tomorrow!”

  It was shepherd’s pie and I wolfed it all down before Beattie made it downstairs. It took some time to get him off. “Was there a problem?”

  She kissed me and sat on the arm of my chair. “He was excited.” She sipped my whisky.

  “I thought he didn’t recognise me.”

  “He is a little shy. We don’t get many visitors here. Christmas was lovely but, since then, we have been on our own and it has been a harsh winter. I am glad you are home.” She realised she had finished my whisky and she went to get another one. “You are home, aren’t you? Your letters told me what a horrible time you were having. Is it over?” She handed me my whisky.

  I patted my knee and she sat down. I told her all that had happened since my last letter. By the time I had finished I had finished my whisky.

  She looked at me and said, “I need a cup of tea. Another whisky?”

  “No. I will have a tea with you.”

  We went into the kitchen and she filled the kettle and I lit the gas. “So, I have you for a month?” I nodded. “And then what? Off to the desert for God knows how long?”

  I sighed. “Mr. Balfour said we could go out as a family or, at least, you could join me when things have been set up.”

  “But you don’t want me there, is that right?”

  “Of course I want you there. But it might be dangerous.”

  “We will come. I had too many nights without you in the Great War. I want to make the most of every moment. You don’t want to miss your son growing up do you?”

  “No but I don’t want you in danger either.”

  “We will take our chances. But we will need to move house, won’t we?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We need a bigger house. This one was cosy with two of us but Thomas takes up more space than you would think. Besides we will need you to be able to get into London. Your Mr. Balfour was quite right about that.”

  “Can we afford it?”

  She laughed, “You are a goose! Of course we can. Lady Mary gave us a nice wedding present. It was money! I have not spent much of your salary and I saved during the war. We have enough.” She poured the boiling water on the tea. “What about those gold coins? Can’t we use them?”

  “It doesn’t feel right, somehow.”

  “From what you have told me they were a present. You impressed the young Russian and he was rewarding you. There is nothing dishonest about that! Bill, this is a chance for us. Neither of our families had very much. Don’t look this gift horse in the mouth. The only expensive thing we have is your car. We have been frugal. I want Thomas to have a home with a garden. This has a yard. It is a nice house and it is cheap but I want something better.”

  “Very well. I suppose we need to decide where and then look.”

  She poured the tea. “This is exciting and I have you all to myself for a whole month!”

  She was the bubbly young girl who had first nursed me back to health and we spent the evening talking and planning. Our son cooperated and did not wake until one a.m. I knew nothing about it for I slept the sleep of the dead but Beattie told me the next morning.

  “Does he do this often?”

  “Often enough.”

  I could see that I much to relearn about being a father. I smiled as I watched Beattie eating one handed while she fed Tom. She also rattled on to me about what she wanted from a house.

  I took it all in and said, “First I need to deposit this gold. I will pop into town and see the bank manager.”

  She shook her head, “And if you think you are leaving the two of us alone you have another think coming. You are going to find you have two shadows from now on. Isn’t that right, Thomas?”

  He giggled and showed me an open mouth full of the porridge she had just given him. I had much to adjust to. The next few days were spent in organising and getting used to each other. Beattie and Tom had a routine and I had to fit in with it. I was introduced to the joy of washing nappies; our son got through them at a prodigious rate. I had been in the cavalry and it reminded me of mucking out the stables.

  Three days into my new life a lorry arrived from the GPO. They were there to install the telephone. We had both used them as part of our jobs but the only person I knew with one was Lady Mary. Even the engineers were impressed, “You must have some pull, sir. There is a waiting list as long as your arm for one of these. We were told to drop everything and get it installed.”

  I nodded feeling a little guilty that it would soon have to be moved. As the engineers worked, however, I learned that they were all ex-soldiers. After the Great War, every day felt like a gift as they did not have to face German bullets and a life of hell. When it had been tested and they had gone we looked at each other. Beattie laughed, “Unless we are going to call Lady Mary then I think I will be dusting it more than using it.”

  It was later that afternoon when it rang. The sound terrified Tom who began wailing. Beattie took him from the room and I picked it up and answered it, “Hello?”

  “Ah Squadron Leader. This is Mr. Balfour here. I was just making su
re it worked. I hope you are enjoying your leave.”

  “Er yes Mr. Balfour.”

  “Good, well I shall ring you when I have news. For the moment enjoy your leave.”

  As I put the telephone down I realised what it was, it was a shackle. They had me at their beck and call; quite literally. Beattie brought Tom back. She had given him his favourite teddy bear and he was soothed.

  “Who was it?”

  “The Ministry. Tomorrow we shall pack up the car and go and look at the places you said you would like to visit. I only have a month’s leave and I would like to have everything in place for the purchase before we go.”

  We had identified some very pleasant little places which were close to London. By close I meant that there was a direct railway line and a train would have us in the centre in under an hour. The London underground came quite a long way out too and it was gradually reaching more remote areas. Finally, I was looking for one with an R.A.F airfield close by. I had one advantage over most other people. I could fly home.

  After a week of travelling around we found what proved to be an ideal spot. It was a little village close to the River Crouch. North Fambridge was a huddle of houses but the railway station was within walking distance. The seaside was not too far away and Royal Air Force Rocheford was less than fifteen miles away. It was perfect. Although there were only a few houses I saw the telephone pole. The telephone could be connected. I had realised, as we had been driving around, that although it shackled me to the Ministry, it was also a lifeline for Beattie. When I was away, I could, hopefully, telephone her. I doubted that I would be able to do so from Mesopotamia but, nonetheless, there were benefits.

  The price of the cottage was well within our budget for it needed work. However, my sister Alice, who was a designer, had promised us that she would help Beattie as the two of them were close. They were more like sisters. By the last week of my leave I had signed all the papers and made all of the arrangements. The move would not take place for some time but I had done all that I could. I had also begun to teach Beattie how to drive. I did not see the point in having my car sitting under a piece of canvas when Beattie could be using it. I was confident enough that, when I left her she would be able to manage my huge beast. When I returned from the Middle East I would think about a car which was better suited to my wife.

  Mr. Balfour had been increasingly busy with his telephone calls and I now had the names of all of the squadron leaders and the make-up of the aeroplanes. His last call, the night before I was to leave for Southampton was to tell me that he would meet me in Southampton with my orders. It seemed final. As was the wont of the service my orders had been changed. There were insurgents in Egypt who were now causing more trouble than the army could handle. It was decided to send my three squadrons there to calm the situation. I neglected to tell Beattie that. She would only worry. However, it meant I could not bring my family with me in the autumn as we had hoped.

  Beattie helped me to pack while I held Thomas. I would miss him. When I had left for Russia he had been tiny. He had slept, eaten, cried and filled his nappy. Now he had animation. He could smile and scowl. He could make peculiar noises and giggle for the sheer pleasure of it. He could be mischievous. I knew that, when I returned, I would have missed so much of his growing up.

  I now had sturdy luggage which we had bought on a trip to London. I also had the uniforms I would need in the heat of the desert. We still packed my flying jacket and fur lined boots. It was comfort more than anything. Beattie looked up, “When you come back we shall be in our new home.”

  I nodded, “I feel guilty leaving all of that to you.”

  She reached up and rubbed my son’s head, “I will have Tom Tom to help me, won’t I?” He giggled obligingly. “And your sister has promised to take a week from work. It will be fine. But you must promise me to think about your responsibilities. You are not a single man any more. There are others who can take risks. You don’t need to.”

  “I suspect this will be slightly more boring than what I am used to. From what Mr. Balfour has told me I shall be an aerial policeman.”

  “Well I hope that is true.”

  The journey down would be Beattie’s first test as a driver. She would help me drive down and then drive back herself. She was looking forward to it. She saw it as an adventure.

  When she left me on the quayside with the others who were travelling on the requisitioned ship, it was a hard goodbye. I was aware that there were three squadron leaders and Mr. Balfour waiting to speak with me before we boarded but I wanted every second I could with my wife and my son.

  “And when you are out there I want you to look for a house for us! I intend to join you. I had enough goodbyes in the Great War.”

  “I will I promise. I want to see my son grow up. Anyway, you will have enough on your plate with the cottage. The GPO said they will be waiting for you to let them know when they can move it.”

  “How did you get them to be so accommodating?”

  I smiled, “Captain Moncrieff, Roger, who served with me in France, is now high up in the telephone section of the GPO.”

  “Well something good came out of that war.”

  “A great deal of good came out of it. Think of all the friends I have. They might not be in the service any longer but we are still brothers in arms.” I pointed to the huddle of officers waiting for me. “Soon they will be too.”

  Part Two

  Egypt

  Chapter 8

  June 1919

  The weather had become much hotter as soon as we had cleared the Bay of Biscay. Some of the men had put on their shorts. I had been warned by Mr. Balfour that where we were going, it would be much hotter. He had been a mine of information. He had packs of documents for all of us. As he had said to me privately, “Communication is going to be a little difficult. Your adjutant, Captain Connor will make his way over land from Bagdad. He has local knowledge and, more importantly, can speak the language. I have tried to anticipate every possible problem. You have everything that your officers need and a little more.” He had seen my quizzical look. “Mr. Churchill is holding a conference. He hopes to increase the number of squadrons. The situation may change, Squadron Leader.” I nodded. Mr. Churchill appeared to be an active man. “One more thing. There is a great deal of unrest in Egypt. Some agitators wish to end the protectorate enjoyed by Great Britain. The King of Egypt wishes us to stay. You will not have the luxury of being able to acclimatise to the country. You will be called upon to police the land as soon as you arrive. The change of orders is vital. You will, eventually be sent to Persia but not until Egypt is stable. We must guard our Suez Canal.” And with that he had departed leaving me with my three squadron leaders.

  I knew that I was lucky with my squadrons. The three squadron leaders had all fought in France. There was another ace amongst them. Henry Woollett had destroyed eleven balloons and shot down nineteen aeroplanes. More than that he had a D.S.O, M.C. and Bar as well as the Legion d’Honneur. Of course, he was remarkably modest and rarely spoke of his medals. Jack Thomson had also shot down eight German aeroplanes. He commanded the DH 9 bombers. He was envious of Henry and I because we had such fame. He was a very skilful pilot. Ben Mannock commanded the squadron of Vickers Vernons. These were a workhorse. They had been developed from the Vimy and were a large twin engined biplane. They could be used for transport and bombing. I did not know it at the time but the big lumbering beasts would be invaluable. He and his pilots had been dropped in France for their aeroplanes were too large to be carried aboard the freighters and they would fly to the Middle East using French and Greek airfields to refuel. He would be the first of us on the ground. The three nights we had with him allowed me to ensure that we all knew our objectives. He and his Vernons would transport some of the air mechanics and all of the spares. He had the task of preparing the new air field which was being built for us by the Engineers at a place called Heliopolis.

  Our Snipes and DH 9 aeroplanes were in tw
o freighters which accompanied us. The liner on which we travelled was spacious and had been used in the Mediterranean before the war. The S.S. Roman Star had seen better days and I doubted that she would attract the same clientele now. It explained why the company had been so keen to be awarded the contract to ferry soldiers and airmen to and from the Middle East. The crew were a mixed bag. There were many older crew members who had served before the war and had been too old for military service. They were mainly English and French. There were others who were younger. They represented the nationalities which had not fought in the Great War. We were well served.

  It was strange to be the senior officer. Until the last days of the war, when Archie had been killed, I had been junior to someone. It was, perhaps, something about the nature of our service that many died young and that allowed for the rapid promotion. Henry was older than I was but all the rest of the officers were younger. The crew varied in age. Some had served since before the days of the Corps. Some had been like me, and transferred from another arm. There were some air gunners I recognised and one or two of the pilots were familiar.

  Our voyage would take us via Gibraltar, Sicily and Cyprus before landing in Alexandria where the aeroplanes would be offloaded and we would fly the rest of the way. As I sat on what had been the upper observation deck with Henry and Jack I realised that we would face some interesting challenges in the desert.

  Henry pointed up to the perfectly blue sky, “You know Bill, we have the breeze from the sea here and we are in the Atlantic yet it is still hot enough that two chaps have been taken to sick bay because of the sun. I fear we will have a problem in the desert.”

  “You are right. We will be living in tents too. Mr. Balfour packed spare mosquito nets but even so I think that we will have to find solutions to problems we have yet to uncover.”

  “What do you mean Bill?”

  “The three of us fought our war in France and Belgium. Mud, rain, snow: all of them caused a problem and we overcame them because we understood the nature of the problem. How will the canvas on the wings react to the heat? Are there insects and animals which might cause problems with the aeroplanes? Will sand damage the engines? Will there be enough water? Fuel? We are going to a place large enough to have France, Britain and Belgium within its frontiers. It will be a vast country. There will not be towns for landmarks.”