Churchill's Ace (Epic War Series Book 1) (18 page)

“Are they dead?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“How?”

“The Nazis.”

“You mean they killed Mr. and Mrs. Kruger. Why?”

“Because there isn’t a decent bone in the whole lot. It is dangerous to be an academic in Nazi Germany.”

“And does Wolf know how it happened?”

“No, he doesn’t.”

Madeline put her hand on the globe to steady herself. “You mean to tell me, Wolf is flying for a country that saw fit to murder his parents. That’s more than evil. It’s not of this world. Do you know where he is?”

“Yes JAG 23, a fighter squadron. From what has been shared with me, JAG 23 is almost operational.”

“Well, it looks like he’s going to fly into battle... against us.”

“No doubt about it.”

Madeline sat down on the couch, and her demeanor turned to one of sadness. “It’s all gone wrong. Every bit of it.”

Winston tried to reassure her. “Now, now my dear, we must concentrate on what we can change. In that regard, I need your help.”

“What can I do?”

“I’m hoping that you will accept a position as my ad hoc secretary.”

“But you already have a secretary.”

“Yes, but I need a person such as yourself, young and full of life to help me get the attention of the younger people. It is them after all who will be fighting this war when it truly starts.”

“Are you saying you want my opinion on matters? Surely you aren’t serious.”

Winston looked out the window and saw the approaching winter that was getting nearer every day. “I’m afraid that is the case. If I don’t have the confidence of the people, we will not win this war. All will be lost. As my niece, you will bring...forgive me but a softer touch. I know that is the last thing you wanted to hear, but Madeline it is imperative.”

“You sound as if you expect your position in the government to change.”

“We must be prepared, for what may happen.”

Sitzkrieg or what people in the West called the “Phoney War,” lasted for nearly six months, from Sept 1939 to May 1940. Even though the war had been gloriously declared by the English and French against the Germans, little action was undertaken by the Allies.

The French briefly invaded part of their border with Germany in the Saar Region, only to pull back three days later. The French high command had decided to fight a defensive war and let the Germans come to them. If World War I was any template for the coming conflict, then the attacker would suffer grievously.

The Allies sat on their hands during the Phoney War. All that was accomplished was the building of concrete fortifications near the German border. The French thought slabs of concrete would protect them from Adolf Hitler. They were wrong.

Both sides had different ideas as to how and where the Germans would attack when the time came for the hammer to fall on France. The Allies, whose military ranks were filled with generals from the victorious Great War, had a simple and inflexible plan.

It was a repeat of the First World War. The Germans would swarm down along the coast, sweeping neutral Belgium out of the way, and capture the major coastal cities of France. They would then turn inland and roll up Paris from the west. At the same time, they would pressure France from the north, but the main blow would come from the German Army wing heading down the coast.

The French, of course, stopped this attack at the gates of Paris during the First World War. Both sides then dug in and raced to the coast to dig their trenches. Static warfare followed where the only winner was the grim reaper.

This German plan known as the Schlieffen Plan was dusted off and presented to Hitler during the Phoney War, “As the basis for the planned attack against France and the British Expeditionary Force.” Oh, there were subtle changes, now that the Luftwaffe was a modern and major weapon in the German arsenal. But all the same, the plan was no different than what was tried and failed during the Great War.

Things changed dramatically after a German military plane crashed in Belgium in 1940 and the updated Schlieffen Plans fell into Allied hands. At the same time, younger and more aggressive German generals lobbied Hitler for a much riskier and bolder plan. One that the Allies thought was impossible to fathom.

The German generals made the case to Hitler, that when hostilities commenced, the French and English would wheel their armies northward into Belgium and take up strong defensive position. The French and British hoped that the German attack would be spent like waves crashing into a seawall. Then the Allies could counterattack and drive the Germans back to where they came from.

Instead, the German generals proposed that the main attack should occur through the Ardennes Forest. The Ardennes Forest was thought to be impassable for motorized vehicles. It was in the middle of the French line but was lightly defended. The French high command thought that even if the Germans could snake its way through the poor road network, once it came out of the forest, it would run smack into the Meuse River. The Meuse River was a major obstacle in itself and could stop an attack flat in its tracks.

If the German armored columns made it through the Ardennes, with the element of surprise, its firepower would fall on the French city of Sedan, which was a major crossing point on the Meuse River. If by the sheer weight of might and speed, the Germans were able to get a bridgehead across the river, then the German generals told Hitler that the French and British forces would be cut in half. Armored spearheads would then race to the coast and France would be defeated swiftly and completely.

The key to victory was quite simple. The bridgehead at Sedan had to be held at all costs until it could be expanded and the French forces yielded. Wolf Kruger’s squadron, JAG 23 was tasked to protect the bridgehead at Sedan, from the RAF and French Air Force.

By ten o’clock in the morning on May 10, 1940, the Phoney War turned into a shooting war. The German war machine invaded Holland, Belgium, and France. When word reached the Prime Minister’s Residence at 10 Downing Street, Neville Chamberlin’s time was up. He had been on the wrong side of history for a long time. Adolf Hitler, the little paperhanger from Austria, had played the genteel Chamberlin for a fool.

The Prime Minister’s cabinet came to one conclusion. Sir Winston Churchill would be called upon to be the new Prime Minister. There wasn’t anything else to be done. No one was left to summon. The back-bencher who was lost in the political wilderness for so many years would take the seemingly impossible task of saving Great Britain from defeat and ruin.

* * *

On the night of May 13, the Luftwaffe ground crew of JAG 23 prepared the squadron’s planes for coming battle, the next morning. JAG 23 was at full strength and was about to earn its keep in a desperate battle for the Sedan bridgehead.

Wilhelm couldn’t sleep and left the barracks around midnight. He walked to the edge of the runway and ran his hands along the fuselage of his Me 109. Moments later he looked up and saw Wolf and Hans. Hans said, “You better get some sleep.”

Wilhelm pulled out a pack of cigarettes and started to smoke. “I can’t relax. I’m nervous all the time. And Zigfried is no help, all he does is yell at me. I’m afraid he’s going to make me follow him into hell. He’ll just get me killed. He doesn’t care about me.”

Wolf sighed, “I’ll talk to him. He’s been a problem for everybody.”

Wilhelm dropped the cigarette on the tarmac and grounded it with his flying boots. “You don’t understand. There’s something else.”

Hans gave Wilhelm a funny look. “What. I thought he was your big buddy. The two great Nazis out to conquer the world.”

“Don’t say that in front of him. His father, with his connections, can do anything to anybody.”

Wolf shook his head. “Don’t be so dramatic. You’re tired, come on.”

Wilhelm made sure they were alone. He moved deeper into the darkness off the runway. “No! Listen, Zigfried thinks I’m his friend. I’m not... not anymore. He was off his rocker a while back and bragged about his father, Doctor Bockler. How he was an important big wig inside the Nazi Party. Blah, blah, blah. I’m not paying attention; his father can suck Hitler’s manhood for all I care. I’m just trying to stay alive.”

Hans said, “Ease up Willy; it can’t be that bad. You were an asshole when you were Zigfried’s second. But now...not so bad.”

“I’m serious. Zigfried bragged about his father and the famous experiments at the medical facility. What he said made my stomach turn. Then he mentioned you, Wolf. How he hated you and all that you stand for. He then said that your parents were probably subversives or even enemies of the state.”

“I told him it was terrible that your parents were killed in a car crash. He smiled and laughed. Why would he do that?”

Hans looked Wolf. Wolf said, “I don’t know.”

Wilhelm lit another cigarette. “Ever since then, I keep my distance from Zigfried. But I’m screwed, because I’m his wingman. Better he gets blown out of the sky.”

Hans asked, “You don’t suppose Zigfried had something to do with the deaths of your parents?”

Wolf's face tightened. “If he did...I will kill him.”

* * *

By May 14, the bridgehead at Sedan was barely forty-eight hours old. On this momentous day, the RAF and the French Air Force planned to throw everything they could muster to destroy the bridgehead and bring the German advance to a grinding halt.

Wolf and Hans took off with the first flight of Me 109s before dawn, and they and were above the Sedan bridgehead in barely fifteen minutes. They knew that the British and French bombers were coming up the river valley, with fighter support to attack the bridge the German engineers had furiously built the proceeding day and a half. JAG 23 would fly as many sorties as possible over the bridgehead, during the day.

Wolf, Hans, Wilhelm, Zigfried and the other pilots in the squadron were to protect the bridgehead and shoot anything down that didn’t have a Luftwaffe insignia on its wings.

The Allies had to destroy the bridge or risk ruin. That fact had only reared its ugly head in the last twenty-four hours. When high command realized the seriousness of the bridgehead at Sedan, they pulled out all the stops. That was why the British and French were flying toward Sedan with every plane they could find.

Captain Randolph Ashton was in a Hawker Hurricane, and he was coming up the river valley with his squadron. They were escorting a flight of French and British bombers that would hit the bridge just after dawn. The attack force was hastily put together, and there wasn’t time for proper reconnaissance over the target area.

Therefore, the Allied attack force was surprised when they encountered heavy anti-aircraft fire as they neared the Sedan Bridgehead. Several bombers were shot down, and the formation slowly came apart, as the planes skirted in any random direction to escape the anti-aircraft fire.

Wolf led his JAG 23 Squadron at 18000 feet as they hit the Allied formation from the side. Wolf dived through the middle of the formation, and he fired a long burst from his machine guns and cannon. An RAF Bristol Beaufighter exploded and spun down into the river.

Hans stayed tight on Wolf’s tail as his friend banked right and took a run at the last part of the enemy formation. Wolf fired at a lumbering French bomber, and its engines smoked before going into a death spiral. Hans thought,
That’s two!

Zigfried and Wilhelm were in the middle of the dogfight. Zigfried dove from 14000 feet and opened fire on an RAF light bomber that was in the lower front of the Allied attack formation. He gritted his teeth and yelled like a wild man, as he poured a four-second burst in the helpless bomber. The canopy in the front of the plane was shattered, and both pilots were killed by the combination of machine gun fire and the deadly 20 mm cannon fire from the Me 109.

Only a single crew member from the bomber managed to bail out before the plane’s wings broke apart. The fuselage was left somewhat intact, and it adhered to the laws of gravity and dropped toward the Sedan River. The rest of the bomber crew were pitched tight against the walls of the fuselage. Some were praying, others didn’t have time to think, as the bomber descended toward its bitter end.

There would be no medals, no more drinking or playing darts at the pub, for the crew. No more nights with a woman’s slender legs wrapped around them as they made love. They would never see their young brothers, who looked up to them and were jealous of their fancy uniforms.

The fuselage smashed into the Sedan River and sunk. A crew member who was able to bail from the plane floated down in his parachute. The doomed bomber was gone, and he was left with his thoughts. Little did he know those thoughts would soon be his final ones.

Zigfried banked and came back around. He saw the crew member dangling from the parachute.

Zigfried leveled out and flew straight for it. Wilhelm was protecting Zigfried’s tail, and he looked in horror as Zigfried fired his machine guns at the man. The man’s body rattled from the bullets that tore into him. His arms let go of the lines to the parachute, and he descended into the river.

In the middle of the battle, Wolf finally came face to face with a Hawker Hurricane. The RAF pilot tucked the plane into a tight turn, and the chase was on. Wolf followed the Hurricane as it descended toward the bridgehead. The pilot in the Hurricane opened fire on the makeshift bridge.

Its four 12.7mm machine guns that were mounted in its wings shot up a German half-track that was moving across the bridge. The half-track veered to one side and plunged off the bridge and into the Sedan River, to join the carnage of bodies from both sides.

Wolf saw the maneuver from the Hurricane as one of bravery. The pilot was ignoring his safety as he attacked the bridge. When the pilot pulled up and tried to gain altitude, he swung directly in Wolf’s gun sights. The Hurricane was there for only a moment. But that was more than enough for Wolf to open fire, with a short burst. The Hurricane was hit in the left wing and took a round from the Me109’s nose cannon.