Churchill's Ace (Epic War Series Book 1) (17 page)

“Of course not. But do keep me informed about everything: planes, tactics and our pilots. I will do what I can here to further our cause and get the RAF everything that it needs. The Spitfire is quickly coming online. I intend to increase production as soon as possible. There isn’t any time to lose. Is there anything else I can do while you’re in harm’s way?”

“Yes, there is. Help Madeline find her a sense of purpose. So much has happened to her. I fear Madeline’s spirit will be broken from the tragedies and disappointment that has befallen her.”

The Rolls Royce turned into the gate at the Biggin Hill RAF Fighter Base. Two squadrons of Hawker Hurricanes were parked on the runway. It was a magnificent site. The machines and their pilots would be off the next day for France. There, they would continue their training and patrols awaiting Adolf Hitler’s next move.

Lieutenant Marsh greeted Winston’s Roll Royce as it stopped by the entrance to the hangar. “Sir Winston.”

Winston shook his hand. “Lieutenant Marsh this is Captain Ashton, commander of 72 Squadron.”

Lieutenant Marsh saluted, “Sir.”

Randolph said, “Are things in order, Lieutenant?”

“Very much so. By tomorrow, you will be off, and I will be left with only the old two-seat Hawker Hurricane trainer. That won’t be much use if the Gerries come calling.”

Randolph confidently said, “We will try to prevent that.”

“Yes, sir.”

Lieutenant Marsh turned to Winston. “I beg your pardon Captain, but may I ask Sir Winston a question?”

“Of course.”

“Sir Winston whatever happened to that German lad. You remember him; he had a nasty habit of flying upside down.”

Winston said, “I understand he has been commissioned as a fighter pilot.”

“Really? I shouldn’t want to run into him.” Lieutenant Marsh turned to Randolph, “Now Captain Ashton is there anything else I can do for you?”

The city of Trier, Germany is the thing that travel postcards are made of. It is on the banks of the picturesque Moselle River and claims to be the oldest town in Germany. This may be true, because the strategic city became the capital of the prefecture of the Gauls, overseeing much of the Western Roman Empire.

Trier ended up as the fifth largest city in the known world, with over 75,000 loyal Roman subjects. As time went on, Trier was captured by the Franks, France and finally firmly placed in the German Empire.

By early 1940 during the Phoney War, Trier once again became important...at least to the Luftwaffe. The reconditioned airfield now housed the newly formed JAG 23 Fighter Squadron, as well as other air units. The reason was rather simple and more than obvious. The French border was only a hop and a skip away. Up and down the border with France, Germany had been moving Luftwaffe units as close as possible to the French frontier.

The JAG 23 Squadron immediately began their final training and fine tuning in the new Messerschmitt 109 fighter F-variant. JAG 23 was the first unit in the Luftwaffe to receive the new variant that was slowly being ramped up at the German production lines. The significant difference in the fighter was that it now possessed a more powerful engine and a 20-millimeter cannon that was placed smack in the center of the propeller shaft.

The Me 109 would be the workhorse of the Luftwaffe, and it was designed to wrestle control of the skies from RAF.

Wolf, Hans, Zigfried, and Wilhelm took to the air immediately. They flew every day and as often as possible. After a month, they had over a hundred hours each of flying time in the new Me 109.

Every time they went up, they knew the French border was just over the horizon. That meant the RAF and the French Air Force were somewhere over there flying and training. But hope still percolated on the French and British side that the Phoney War would end, and Germany would come to its senses. The Allied air forces had strict rules not to fly over the border of France. And they weren’t to engage the Luftwaffe unless the Germans violated French sovereignty.

JAG 23 fighter planes were broken down into groups of four planes each when they were in the air. The four planes would be further divided into two plane formations. And those two planes, would be lined up with a lead fighter and his all important wingman. The lead fighter would be the plane that would maneuver and attack. His wingman would be on his tail protecting the lead fighter from the enemy. No one was looking out for the wingman. Who said military doctrine was infallible.

As fate would have it, Wolf and Hans were paired up with Zigfried and Wilhelm. The four pilots were the very best that JAG 23 had to offer. It was no surprise that Wolf and Zigfried were the attack pilots in their groupings.

Much to Zigfried’s dismay, Wolf was put in command of the four pilot gruppe. On a late February morning, the four Me 109s left the Trier Air Base and headed for the French frontier. Ten minutes out Wolf ordered the group due north, on a course parallel to the French border.

Hans fell into line behind Wolf as they picked up speed. Moments later Hans came over the radio. “Yellow 1, Red 1 and Red 2 are staying on course toward French airspace.”

What is he doing? Wolf called Zigfried and Wilhelm on the radio, “Come to 150 degrees. Do not enter France. Do you hear me.”

A garbled transmission came over the radio from Zigfried, “We are under attack, taking evasive action.”

Hans came over the radio to Wolf. “Attack my ass. Yellow 1, I don’t see any enemy planes on the horizon. Are we going in too?”

“Negative.”

Zigfried rolled over into French airspace and Wilhelm was on his tail. Barely five minutes over France and at 17,000 feet, they spotted, at least, a half-dozen dark specks in the sky. Zigfried turned left and down. Wilhelm now got a clear view of what the specks were. It was a flight of French Morane-Saulnier fighter planes. There were six of them in tight formation. That all changed when the French saw the Germans. They broke apart and split in two different directions. Wilhelm came over the radio to the flight group. “We got six here! Six!”

“Follow me,” said Zigfried. The two Me 109s banked and headed to the right half of the French formation.

Hans spoke loudly over the radio. “Yellow 1. Wolf. Wolf.”

“I know, let’s go.” Wolf banked his plane from 24000 feet and headed for the French frontier and the flight of Morane-Saulnier fighter aircraft.

Zigfried and Wilhelm made a pass through the French formation. Zigfried fired his twin 7.9 mm machine guns and a three round burst from the 20 mm cannon in the nose of the Me 109. He flatly missed the oncoming French fighters. Zigfried banked left and climbed. That didn’t do much good as Morane-Saulnier fighter got on Wilhelm’s tail. Though the French plane was underpowered and weakly armed, it was highly maneuverable. It stayed on Wilhelm’s tail and machine gun bullets peppered his left wing.

Wolf rolled over from 20,000 feet with the sun at his back and dove for the French fighter that was on Wilhelm’s tail. He steadied his Me 109, closed to 200 yards, and then opened fire with a three-second burst. The French fighter took numerous hits from Wolf’s machine guns and smoke fanned into the air from its engine.

Two rounds from the 20 mm cannon found the back of the pilot’s seat, and the French plane spiraled toward the ground and broke apart. Wolf Kruger the former glider pilot and wayward mathematician, was the first Luftwaffe pilot of World War II to shoot down a plane flown by the Western Allies. Hans screamed, “Way to go!”

Wolf got on the radio to Zigfried, “Break it off now!”

Zigfried pushed the throttle to his Me 109 all the way forward, and he headed back for the German border. Wilhelm whose Me 109 was shot up limped over the frontier. All four planes landed, and there was a buzz at the Trier Air Base, as the Me 109s were parked and their wheels chalked.

The commander of the base Colonel Dunkel inspected the damage to Wilhelm’s plane. He lined up the four pilots on the tarmac and brusquely said, “Captain Kruger and Captain Bockler you will join me in my office at once.”

* * *

Wolf and Zigfried stood before Colonel Dunkel. The colonel was as tough as nails and was bitterly disappointed that Wolf’s Gruppe had wandered over the border. “Gentlemen, I will have to report you to Goering himself. The repercussions will be quite severe. Am I to believe Captain Bockler that you were attacked by a flight of French planes, and you were forced to engage. Is that correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Captain Kruger, can you verify Captain Bockler’s story?”

“Colonel, I have no reason to believe otherwise.”

“I see. Have a seat. This isn’t going to be pretty for any of us, especially you two. You could have started the real shooting war.”

“The sooner, the better,” said Zigfried.

Colonel Dunkel eased back in his chair and put down his phone. “Captain Kruger, do you wish to alter your story?”

“No sir.”

“I understand you got JAG 23’s first kill.”

“Yes, sir.”

Zigfried cut in, “I would have got one myself, but I was ordered to break off contact and return to base.”

Colonel Dunkel smirked, “I’m sure you will have other opportunities.” The colonel dialed up Luftwaffe headquarters.

Outside the office, Hans and Wilhelm waited for the outcome. Wilhelm was smoking a cigarette and was disheveled from the close call with the French fighter plane. “You okay?” asked Hans. “You look like shit.”

Hans was expecting a wiseass comment from the big brute or perhaps a punch in the ribs. Instead, Wilhelm started to shiver. “I don’t feel so good.” He leaned over and puked.

“Take it easy.”

Wilhelm wiped his mouth with his shirt. “They were shooting at me.”

“Yeah, that’s what they do. Why did he disobey orders and go in? That was a dangerous stunt.”

“How do I know? Don’t say anything, but I think he wanted to be the first pilot in the Luftwaffe to shoot down a French or British plane.”

Hans scoffed, “Instead, Wolf got one. What a dummy. Don’t repeat that.”

“You want to switch lead pilots.”

“No thanks.”

Inside Colonel Dunkel’s office Wolf and Zigfried waited. Zigfried said, “You cost me my first kill; I won’t forget that.”

“You disobey orders again, I’ll shoot you down myself.”

Colonel Dunkel spoke in hushed tones on the phone. Finally, he nodded, and said, “Yes sir, I will take the appropriate action at once.” He hung up the phone. “Captain Kruger you will bring in your wingman. I believe it is Lieutenant Meyer.”

“He had nothing to do with this.”

“All the same, bring him in now!” Moments later Hans stood at attention with Wolf. Hans swallowed and braced himself. Colonel Dunkel looked at Wolf and Hans with a steely-eyed coldness. “Gentlemen, Hermann Goering was just informed of today’s incident. He was with our Fuhrer at the time. Air Marshal Goering says you are to be congratulated. Captain Kruger, the kill is to be painted on your plane. Hitler himself smiled at the news! Goering’s last words were that he hopes to entertain Germany’s first ace of the war soon after hostilities break out. So all of you have work to do to achieve that goal.”

Zigfried said, “Then the war will start soon.”

Colonel Dunkel slammed his hand down on the desk. “Not fast enough for you Captain Bockler if you disobey your Gruppe leader again. Dismissed.”

Winston’s Rolls Royce stopped by the front door of Chartwell. Madeline opened the rear door and stepped out. James made his way to the back of the sedan. He said politely, “Madam I would have opened the door for you.”

Madeline smiled, “Really James, please don’t call me that. And you know that I fend for myself.” James’ shoulders sagged. “Not that I don’t appreciate the offer. We all know you’re the one, with Clementine, who keeps Winston on the straight and narrow.”

“I do try. He’s waiting for you in his study.”

Madeline was met by Clementine in the foyer. Clementine greeted her with open arms. “There she is. I’m most pleased to see you.”

“Me as well. Do you have any idea why Sir Winston wants to see me?”

“I haven’t the foggiest. Do inform me if he has some off-kilter plan rolling around in that head of his.”

Madeline said, “Mrs. Churchill, soon Sir Winston will be called upon to serve England, at the highest office. It’s just a matter of time. He has been right about Hitler and Germany for the longest time.”

“And Randolph is now in France with the RAF.”

“Yes, he is.”

“I pray for him and the others, for their safe return.”

“We all do.”

* * *

Winston was rolling his finger across the massive globe that was off to one side of his desk when Madeline came in. Her smile was as bright as ever, and Winston hoped she was getting along better, since the death of Owen Cline.

It was more than painful to lose someone close to you. Winston’s immediate and extended family lost more than their fair share of good men during the Great War. Death was never an easy thing. It was hard, bitter and something that couldn’t be changed, at least not in this world. He said, “My dear, thank you for coming.”

“James called me madam. He’s known me since I was a child.”

“Force of habit, I guess. There’s no other man I would rather be in a foxhole with. During the Battle of Flanders, James fought with great bravery. Now, of course, he is left with a limp and wonderings at midnight, why he survived, and so many others died. There are no easy endings for those who fight.”

“No doubt.”

“I assume you’re wondering why I had you come to Chartwell.”

“It had crossed my mind. I was rather enjoying my time sulking at Harding Barrow. As empty as it is now. Mother has gone to her theatre magnate. Randolph is off gallivanting with the RAF, father is incorrigible and still finds solace at the bottom of a barrel. Owen is dead and…”

“And…”

“I have no idea what has happened to Wolf.”

“I’m afraid I have bad news that hasn’t been shared with anyone else. It’s not about Wolf. It's his parents.”