Defiant Heart (42 page)

When the sun set, they made their way down the incline and around the town, giving it a wide berth, for the most part keeping to the fields. At one point they almost walked right into the side of a farmhouse. They retreated quickly and worked their way around the structure. A dog started barking, but it didn’t come after them.

They stumbled across a carrot field and dug up several of the vegetables. When they came to a small stream, they gulped large handfuls of water, then washed the carrots in the current and ate them. It was their first food since breakfast the previous day.

Shortly before sunrise, they found a thicket of shrubs surrounding a large tree on a knoll by the side of a field. It seemed to offer good concealment, and they stopped. Jon was dead tired. He’d been awake for over twenty-four stressful hours. He gratefully stretched out in a crook formed by two large tree roots and apparently dozed off.

Above him now, bright mid-day sun was filtering down through the branches of the tree overhead. Jon rose slightly and saw that Tommie and Abernathy were also awake and alert. Tommie pointed beyond the tree, and, when Jon looked, he saw three people walking in their direction. The approaching figures were on a well-worn path that would lead them directly to the spot where Jon, Tommie and Abernathy were hiding.

Now that it was light, Jon could see that, from the knoll where they were crouched, they had a view down a lush valley. In the distance, he could see the steeple of a church and the roofs of a few buildings. He guessed it was the town they had skirted the night before.

The sound of laughter reached him, and he realized it came from a female. As the trio approached, Jon could see that all three were women. Two were carrying baskets, and the third had what appeared to be a rolled-up blanket under one of her arms. Great, he thought, they’d managed to hide in the exact spot where these women now intended to have a picnic.

Knowing that he and his colleagues were moments away from being detected, Jon stood and called out, “Guten tag.”

The three women stopped suddenly, startled expressions on their faces. Jon could see they were young, probably in their early twenties, if that.

“I’m sorry,” Jon said in German, smiling broadly. “I didn’t mean to startle you. My friends and I,” and he turned slightly, putting a hand out and making a quick gesture to indicate they should stand, “were just resting a moment and admiring the beautiful view.”

Behind him, Tommie and Abernathy stood.

“We didn’t mean to take your picnic spot,” Jon said. “We were just about to leave.”

After a moment, one of the young women stepped forward and said, “You’re wearing strange outfits. Are you soldiers?”

“We’re pilots,” Jon said, immediately. “Fighter pilots.”

“They must be stationed at the airdrome,” another of the girls said to the one who had stepped forward.

“We are. We’ve been given passes for the day, and we’ve been out walking.”

“You’ve walked a long distance,” the first girl said.

Jon nodded. “Yes. It’s good exercise. When you spend as much time as we do sitting in a cramped cockpit, you appreciate the opportunity to stretch your legs.”

That seemed to be an acceptable answer. “I can tell from your accent that you’re from Bavaria,” the first girl said.

“You have a good ear for accents. I’m from Munich.”

The girl looked at Tommie and Abernathy. “Your friends are very quiet.”

Jon chuckled. “They’re shy. When it comes to flying planes, they know exactly what they’re doing. But they don’t know how to talk to pretty girls.”

One of the other girls giggled. She reached out a hand and touched the arm of the first girl. “Ask them to join us,” she said.

For the first time, Jon saw the hint of a smile on the face of the first girl. “Yes,” she said, after a moment. “Won’t you? We have plenty.” Her smile widened. “And you can tell us your flying stories.”

As improbable as it was, Jon had the sudden sense the girl was flirting with him.

He smiled and shook his head. “That’s very kind of you, but we must be getting on. As you know, we have a long distance to walk.”

She seemed disappointed.

“Well,” Jon said, turning to Tommie and Abernathy, “we’d better get going.” He motioned for them to follow, and he stepped down the path, nodding as he passed the girls. “It was very nice meeting you.”

After they had walked a short distance, the first girl called out from behind them. “What is your name?”

Jon stopped and turned. “Meyer,” he said. “Johan Meyer.”

The girl gave him a friendly smile. “Perhaps I’ll see you another time, Johan Meyer.”

Jon returned the smile. “Perhaps.”

When they were far enough away they couldn’t be heard, Abernathy whispered, “What the hell was that?”

“They think we’re German fighter pilots.”

“Jesus,” Abernathy said.

Jon could see Tommie giving him a big grin. “That girl was coming on to you, Jon.”

Jon didn’t know what to say, so he simply shrugged.

Tommie snorted and looked at Abernathy. “We better find another hiding place quick, before she comes back after him.”

When they’d walked a few hundred yards, they left the path and made their way into a wheat field. They lay down, and the stalks were high enough that they were completely shielded from view. They started out again an hour after sunset, and they’d been traveling about three hours when they encountered the other man.

They were making their way down a narrow country lane, bordered on either side by a line of trees, beyond which were more fields. Off and on, they’d heard the sound of planes overhead. There was a quarter moon out, and the sky was clear, so they had just enough light to pick their way. The hard-packed dirt surface of the lane was scarred with narrow ruts that appeared to have been made by wagon wheels. Those ruts looked to be the only tracks, and Jon hoped it meant they would be unlikely to encounter a fast moving vehicle.

They were in single file, Jon leading the way, followed by Abernathy. Tommie was bringing up the rear. They were moving quietly, and they stopped every couple of minutes to listen for noises.

Jon felt a tap on his shoulder. He stopped and turned. Tommie had stepped up and stood next to Abernathy. “I think we’re being followed,” Tommie whispered.

“Followed?” Abernathy whispered. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“I’m not making it up.”

“How long?” Jon asked.

“Not sure. I thought I heard something a few minutes ago. Then I decided it was my imagination. But I was looking back just now, and I swear there’s someone back there.”

“All right,” Jon said, softly. “Let’s take cover.”

They stepped off of the roadway, and each took up position behind a tree. Nothing happened for several minutes, and Jon was beginning to think that Tommie had, indeed, imagined it. He was about to say something when he saw a dark figure approaching from the direction they’d just come. The man was in a crouch, moving cautiously. When he got to the point where they’d taken cover, he appeared to look around.

“Hey,” the man said in a hoarse whisper.

There was a loud distinctive clicking sound, and Jon realized Tommie had pulled back the hammer on his .45. “Jon,” Tommie said quietly, “tell him I’ll blow his brains out if he moves. Find out who he is and what he wants.”

Jon quickly translated. There was a long moment of silence. Then the man said, “Jon, since when do you speak German?”

To his surprise, but overwhelming relief, Jon realized it was Shim.

They huddled by the side of the road, and Shim told them what had happened to him. When the Widowmaker had been struck by the other bomber, the tail section had spun away. Shim had found himself pinned against the side of the fuselage by the rotational pull. He’d been certain he would die. Fortunately, the spinning had slowed, and the tail section had gradually turned so that the open end faced down. Shim had barely enough time to clip on his parachute before he slid out of the severed portion of the plane and found himself hurtling toward the earth. His parachute had opened no more than a hundred feet above the ground, not enough altitude to slow him sufficiently to avoid multiple broken bones. However, he’d been incredibly lucky. He’d landed smack in the middle of an immense pile of dung.

“Now that you mention it,” Tommie said, “you do smell kind of ripe.”

Shim nodded. “I tried to wash as much of it off as I could in a stream back there. But,” he grinned, “I’d rather smell like shit than be dead.

“Anyway,” Shim continued, “I’m sure I shocked the farmer. He just stood there watching me climb down from his dung pile. When I realized he wasn’t going to do anything, I took off. I figured I’d head southwest. I was pretty surprised when I came up on you guys a while back. I didn’t know who you were, but it was obvious to me you didn’t want to be seen. I thought maybe we might be in the same boat. Small world, huh?”

Jon put his hand on Shim’s shoulder. “Even though you stink, I’m glad you’re here.” Shim put a hand up and set it on top of Jon’s. He nodded.

They struck out again, continuing down the road until it came to an end at a pair of farmhouses. They moved out into one of the fields and stayed well away from the houses. They’d been traveling for a couple hours when Jon realized there was a glow in the sky ahead of them. His first thought was that daybreak was coming, though it seemed early for that. Then he realized it couldn’t be daybreak, as they were moving in a southwesterly direction.

Perhaps, he thought, they were nearing a city or a large town. A plane flew overhead, and it was low. It was followed shortly thereafter by another. Then he remembered what one of the girls had said the day before. “They must be stationed at the airdrome.” Jon guessed they were approaching an airfield.

They came to a slight rise, and Jon instinctively crouched as he climbed, getting down on his hands and knees for the last few feet. When he reached the top, he peered over and saw his guess had been correct. Spread out before him was a facility that, though it was a mere fraction of the size of the base at Stanbridge, had the same general appearance. He found himself staring almost straight down a runway lined with bright lights.

Shim and Tommie crawled up to either side of Jon. As they did, another plane flew overhead, only a few feet above them. It had twin engines and, instead of a conventional tail, there were two short vertical stubs mounted on the ends of the rear horizontal stabilizer. Jon recognized it immediately. It was a Messerschmitt Bf 110. Originally designed to fill a role as an escort for German heavy bombers and to serve as a light bomber itself, it had been retooled as one of the primary weapons the Luftwaffe threw against the American and British bombers. Jon had seen many of them as they had attacked the formations in which he’d flown.

These were obviously night fighters. Jon guessed the planes landing now had been scrambled earlier in the evening to attack formations of British heavy bombers.

“That’s our ticket home,” Tommie said, after a moment.

“Oh, really,” Shim said. “Are we just going to walk in and check one out? Did you bring your library card, because I seem to have left mine back in Stanbridge.”

“How do you think we’re going to steal one of those?” asked Abernathy, who had joined them at the top.

Tommie said, “I have no idea.” He turned to Jon. “Jon, how are we going to do it?”

#

General Lloyd Kimbrough set the phone back into the receiver and looked at Penny Radkovich. He shook his head. Penny nodded slowly, a profound sadness on her face.

General Kimbrough had arrived at his office earlier than usual that morning. To his surprise, he found Mary already at her desk, her face drawn, dark circles under her eyes. She explained that she’d not heard from Jon since Wednesday, and, what was more alarming, Jon had not kept their appointment to meet at Victoria Station on Saturday. Mary had waited all day and well into the night, as each train had come and gone. She’d not slept for the past two nights, and she had been waiting for several hours at her desk for General Kimbrough to arrive that morning, hoping that he might be able to check on Jon’s status.

He had her ring 96th Group headquarters for him. Colonel Halliday had personally called him back an hour later. Unfortunately, the news the colonel delivered was not good. Jon’s plane had gone down on Saturday in a raid over Bremen.

General Kimbrough broke the news to Mary. Looking at her stricken face, he added that several parachutes had been observed. What he didn’t tell her was that only four ‘chutes had actually been seen, dramatically lowering the odds that Jon had survived. Because Mary had been assuming the worst, though, she was somewhat heartened by the general’s little white lie. She kept her poise and informed General Kimbrough that she was confident Jon would be ok and would find a way to return to her.

Shortly before noon, General Kimbrough received a second call from Colonel Halliday. This time, the colonel delivered the worst possible news. Jon’s status had been modified from MIA, missing in action, to KIA, killed in action. The colonel reported that he did not have any more details, but promised to find out what he could and get back to the general.

Mary, who had put the call through, was waiting anxiously when he came out of his office. He lied again to her and told her that there was still no information regarding Jon. Then he asked Mary to take some papers to 20 Grosvenor Square for him and to wait for them to be signed before bringing them back. When she was gone, he placed two calls.

The first was to a close acquaintance at the headquarters building letting him know that a Private Dahlgren would be arriving with an envelope full of meaningless papers and asking that she be kept waiting until the general called back. His friend readily agreed to do the favor.

Then General Kimbrough called the Office of the Chief Surgeon for the Eighth Air Force, where he knew Mary’s good friend, Penny, worked. He wanted Penny to be available when he broke the news to Mary. Penny arrived forty-five minutes later, and the general then called his friend to tell him to return the envelope to Mary.