Churchill's Ace (Epic War Series Book 1) (6 page)

“Who?”

“Sir Winston.”

“I thought of that all by myself, while I was dogfighting.”

“Tell me, Wolf, what will you do when an RAF pilot gets on your tail?”

“Break left and head for the deck. When I suck him in, I will loop and get on his tail. But I will only fight if duty calls.”

They strolled into the middle of the herbaceous and rose garden. “Duty? What do you think a fighter pilot does to justify his existence, tow signs behind his plane saying, ‘Madeline, please marry me’?”

Wolf looked at her and tried to stop from laughing. “I can assure you, that I for one would not have that banner attached to my plane.”

“Really?”

“Yes quite. I may not be able to walk down a path at dusk, without tripping into these—”

“Herbaceous plants…”

“Herb plants.”

“Herbaceous!”

“These plants but that doesn’t make me…”

“What?”

Wolf scratched his head. “I’ve forgotten.”

Madeline laughed. “Admit it, you were thinking of that banner.”

“Leave me alone!”

“You have to be able to fly under any conditions. Wolf, you have not mastered that. Follow me.”

“Do I have to?”

“You’re my guest; please try to put on some proper manners. And stay out of the herbaceous bushes. They are somewhat poisonous. If you get pricked, you may develop a rare case of vertigo, which means you will never fly again. That would be a shame trading in a burning plane for a calculus textbook.”

“I’ll have you know I passed calculus with flying colors. And yourself?”

Madeline smiled, and her hair gleamed in the moonlight. “I don’t need calculus. After all, I will marry for money and looks. But it seems the pickings are rather shabby at the moment.”

“How considerate. By the way, that banner is now in flames.” They both laughed.

They walked into the swimming pool area which was in a flat area below the house. It overlooked the lake which wrapped around Chartwell Manor. Madeline sat back in a lounge chair. Wolf did as well. He said, “I take it this is to be the extent of the walking tour.”

“Yes. I’d hate to see you fall into the herbaceous bushes and get vertigo. Although there is poison ivy down by the lake, and perhaps you’d like to try landing in that.”

“Shall I eat the berries of that blasted herbaceous bush and see what happens? Would that satisfy you?”

“You sound like an Englishman.”

Wolf sighed and sat back in the chair. “Does anyone ever use this pool?”

“Sir Winston often skinny dips in it, when it suits his fancy. Don’t say anything; it isn’t a pretty sight.”

“That can’t be true.”

Madeline shook her head. “Wolf, you have a lot to learn.”

“What about you? Have you ever been on a plane?”

“I prefer to stay on the ground, but mind you, I don’t trip over imaginary things like yourself.”

“I told you I couldn’t see.”

“It’s not dark quite yet. What was distracting you?”

“You were.”

“Finally the truth, not that it makes any difference. Wolf, I don’t like pilots, and besides, you’re German, and no doubt soon to be our bitter enemies. That’s just what this country needs, another enemy.”

“I hope that isn’t so.”

Madeline tossed a tiny pebble into the pool and water rippled. “Wolf Kruger, there is a slight bit of sense in you. You do have a soft spot. Perhaps you should trip more often; it brings you back to earth.”

“Are we going to talk about tripping all night?”

Madeline leaned forward and put her hand into the pool. She pulled on a string and up came a bottle of champagne. “Don’t look so surprised. I thought pilots were trained for any situation.”

“Sir Winston had me race today with a bottle of champagne attached to the sailboat. English people are very strange.”

Madeline popped the cork on the champagne. “We do what must be done.”

“I am sorry about your father. Not that I even know who he is.”

Madeline took a drink from the champagne bottle. “So am I.” She handed the bottle to Wolf. “Cheers and all that.”

Wolf said softly, “There’s something else that no one knows yet but me.”

“Well?”

“I’ve been accepted to Luftwaffe flight training school. I report in one month’s time.”

“And your parents?”

“They don’t know.”

Madeline shook her head. “Shall I tell them?”

“Please don’t.”

“Wolf Kruger, you aren’t to be trusted.”

“I had no choice. I have to fly.”

“No choice. That’s a bunch of poppycock.”

“You won’t say anything. Not even Sir Winston knows.”

“My, you are a bigger fool than I imagined. Winston Churchill knows more than you think. Underestimate him at your risk. Many have only to be undone. Shall we toast your good fortune?”

“But you don’t like pilots.”

“That’s right; I don’t…” Madeline drank from the champagne bottle and gave it to Wolf. “Take a long drink; that’s what the RAF boys do while they can.” Wolf took a long drink from the champagne bottle. “Done like an ace.”

“An ace?”

“Now I have your attention. My father was an ace.”

“He was?”

“Surely, and look what it got him.” Madeline took the bottle from Wolf and chugged it. “Oh, I know you are different. You will never be shot down or burned in the cockpit. Wolf, you will be the exception... won’t you?”

“I hope so.”

“Drink up.”

Professor and Mrs. Kruger said their farewells to Winston and Clementine at the edge of the driveway. A black sedan was waiting for the Krugers. Their driver opened the rear door to the car. “Madam.”

Professor Kruger said, “Sir Winston it has been a most enjoyable weekend. And Mrs. Churchill, your hospitality knows no measure.”

Clementine said, “Have a safe journey.”

Winston added, “Give our best to the University of Berlin. And do be careful.”

Professor Kruger nodded. “We will try, but there is only so much one can do.”

Wolf shook Winston’s hand. “Thank you, sir.”

“A better sailor, I have never come across. Good luck my boy.”

Madeline, who was standing just behind the Churchill’s, said, “Yes Wolf, good luck in whatever you do.”

“I hope to see you again someday. Perhaps I’ll find my footing by then.”

Madeline blushed slightly. “Go on, no one likes goodbyes.”

Wolf got in and the door to the limo closed. The limo pulled away and with it went young Wolf Kruger. Clementine went directly up the steps to talk to the head housekeeper. Winston and Madeline watched the sedan circle the driveway and head off toward London. Winston said, “What do you think of Wolf?”

“Well… I found him to be confident but certainly not boastful. However, he did trip into the herbaceous plants in the garden.”

“Did he get pricked?”

“Only in the heart.”

Winston laughed, “Indeed. The world belongs to the young at heart. It is rather unfortunate that so many hearts turn to stone in the later years.”

Madeline became somewhat sad. “I’m afraid that he’ll make an excellent pilot. Until he gets shot down. Wolf doesn’t think that will happen. They all get shot down.”

“That is one of the distinct drawbacks of the profession.”

Madeline said, “He got into flight school. His parents don’t know.”

“Yes, I’m aware of that.”

“Don’t you find it rather odd, that you know all about that, but his parents haven’t the foggiest idea. That’s somewhat sad. The things men and boys do, to get what they want.”

“My dear it’s a habit of the species. A man or a boy who is becoming a man will stop at nothing to get what he wants. At least, that is the case if he is worth anything.”

“And him?”

“Wolf? Well, I’m afraid the lad is on his way to becoming a man, much sooner than his parents realize.”

“But…”

“I believe he will move mountains to get what he wants. I just wonder what mountain he’s going to move.”

The limo disappeared, and Madeline smiled. “And you let him fly the Hurricane. Do you think that was wise? He’s going to flight school with first-hand knowledge of the plane.”

Winston’s face turned a bit red, and it wasn’t because of the scotch he had with lunch before the Kruger’s departed. “Madeline my dear the lad thinks our Hawker Hurricane fighter has a top speed of 325 MPH. But of course, that isn’t the case.”

“Uncle Winston... really. You used him.”

“I must admit, I do like the boy, but he is, after all, going to be a fighter pilot in the Luftwaffe. By the way, is your father doing any better?”

“No, he laments and drinks his days and life away.”

“Pity, such a waste of a fine man.”

Madeline thought for a second. “What is the top speed of the Hurricane?”

“Do you want to know?”

“No.”

“The Hurricane aside, this I can tell you. Herr Hitler may have got more than he bargained for with Wolf Kruger.”

“What do you mean?”

Winston brought his hand to his chin. “Nothing really, but I don’t see the lad goose-stepping in front of the Reichstag.”

Madeline took Winston’s hand, and they walked up the steps of Chartwell Manor. “He would most definitely slip.”

Major Otto Van Bruen was the Kommandant of the Luftwaffe’s Flight School. The school was the first step up the ladder for prospective recruits to join the Luftwaffe as qualified pilots.

The flight school was on the outskirts of Berlin. It was close enough to Berlin, so the recruits could enjoy themselves on the occasional weekend passes they secured. And far enough away from the capital and the civilians that aerial flights could be conducted without interruption and fear of crash landing an ancient Focke Wulf twin seat training biplane into the lap of someone’s breakfast.

Major Van Bruen was a former fighter pilot and one of the first aces of the German Air Force during World War I. Of course, he knew Hermann Goering, who himself was a famous pilot in the Luftwaffe. Hermann Goering loved the limelight and was an ardent supporter of Adolf Hitler. Goering was the architect of the Luftwaffe and oversaw every aspect of it.

Hermann Goering was also an obese heroin addict, who walked around with a specially designed powder blue uniform and a gaudy Roman inspired Air Marshal baton. He didn’t fit in with the Nazis, for all his grandstanding, but Hitler was indebted to him.

Goering was so fat that he couldn’t fit into a cockpit of one of his old fighter planes. And even if he did, the World War I vintage aircraft had no hope of getting his lard-filled ass off the ground.

Major Van Bruen stood on a platform at the flight field’s parade grounds. Before him stood 400 young men who were in perfect formation. Wolf Kruger was one of them.

Major Van Bruen looked over the group and couldn’t help but wonder what would be their fate. There was no doubt that they were among the finest and bravest men that Germany had to offer to the Luftwaffe. Most were raw and lacked the basic of flying skills. But that would come in time and swiftly. Major Van Bruen also knew that if there was war in the coming years, many of them would die. Perhaps all of them.

He addressed the recruits, “You have been chosen and deemed worthy of flight training with the Luftwaffe. We shall see how worthy you are. Gentlemen, just because you stand before me doesn’t mean that you will earn your wings. Of course, you will be given that opportunity.

“But I can’t guarantee that success will be yours. I can assure you that if you fail, don’t fret... the Navy will take you. They need live bodies who can push a mop around a deck.” The recruits smiled, and Major Van Bruen was pleased. He sensed that he was indeed reaching them. The sooner, the better as far as he was concerned. He knew that one of the secrets to commanding men was to treat them with respect. If you commanded their respect, they would fly through brick walls for you.

Major Van Bruen continued his speech. “Gentlemen, the Luftwaffe needs pilots – pilots willing to fight for Germany and die if necessary. But I for one prefer that you let the enemy do the dying. The French and the British are good at that.”

The recruits broke into laughter. Wolf laughed with the others and kept his eyes on Major Van Bruen.

Major Van Bruen went on, “It is true we aren’t at war. However, the Luftwaffe must be prepared to do our part, if and when the time comes. We will give all of you the necessary tools to be successful. But you must be willing to fight and put your country first, ahead of everything else.”

Zigfried Bockler, a recruit on the parade grounds yelled, “Sir, Germany will have it’s revenge against the French, British and those who conspire against the Fuhrer.”

The recruits cheered, and Wolf looked at Zigfried, who was off to one side of him. The young man was stocky, with coarse blonde hair. He also seemed to enjoy the attention that was now coming his way. But Wolf thought it was more than bold, to interrupt Major Van Bruen’s speech. Who would do such a thing?

Major Von Bruen said, “Attention! I must remind all of you that we do not care about of politics and such. We are to fly planes and shoot down the enemy. Any future discussion of political matters, no matter how trivial, will get you that enlistment with the Navy.” Major Van Bruen looked at Zigfried Bockler with disdain. “Do I make myself clear?”

Zigfried went on, “Yes Major, but it’s just that some of us see the future very clearly. Germany is changing.” Wolf locked eyes with Zigfried. Zigfried took this as a challenge. “What do you want?”

“Nothing.”

“I thought not.”

Major Von Bruen said, “Recruit, whoever you are, I see the future as well. And the next word you speak will be the last you ever utter at this flight school.”

Zigfried smirked, “Sir…”

* * *

Wolf found his assigned cot in barrack #6. It was in the rear of the wooden barracks, and he could feel the cold wind coming through the paper thin walls. He dropped his gear on his cot and was glad his mother had packed a good deal of warm clothing.