JET LAG! (14 page)

              However, just as Todd was chewing over his options, the radio sprang into life.

              ‘Purple formation, from Yellow Five, check in.’

              Luckily all aircraft still had use of their radios – no flat batteries as yet – so they checked in with no absentees.

              ‘Roger; Purple stand by for instructions. All aircraft will start engines and taxy to the large hangar on the other side of the runway. Order of priority – VC10, Hercules, ECM, PR9’s, Recce, ADV & Bomber. Purple lead will have to move aside to allow access. Once in the hangar, manoeuvre to be pointing outwards. There is plenty of room – this hangar is almost three times the width of the ones you are used to. All crews will then shut down – BUT REMAIN IN THEIR AIRCRAFT until signalled by me. DO YOU COPY – ACKNOWLEDGE?’

              By this time most crews were fairly well shell-shocked, so they answered as sheep with no argument. Pilots began starting their engines and Stumpy taxied his jet out of the way, so that the VC10 could pass by. He and Todd sat quietly as the aircraft trundled past him one by one and made their way to the larger of the two hangars. The doors were now fully open and six airmen from the Hercules were marshalling the aircraft under armed guard. Each crew made some sort of puzzled gesture as they passed Todd – but all Todd could do was give a sickly smile and shake his head. He knew as much as they did. When it was his turn, Stumpy released the brakes and taxied meekly into the old hangar. Behind them the big doors started to close and by the time he had stopped and shut down the engines – AVM Morrissey was standing at the front of his aircraft with someone who closely resembled Winston Churchill. Now he knew he was going mad!

20

1 July 1940

              ‘Yes sir, the ‘Kanalkampf’ goes well. We are sinking ships on every sortie. Although we have limited resources, we continue to probe the British defences. We have  a good idea of their response times and our Bf 109s are proving very successful.’

              Colonel Theo Osterman was making his weekly report to command. Of course it was always sent by coded signal, but his commander liked to discuss matters personally. And of course Osterman didn’t mind being the bearer of such good news.

              ‘Indeed sir, the battle of attrition is going our way. The British cannot win. If their aircraft stay on the ground we sink many ships unchallenged. If they scramble we shoot them down or tire them out. Their radar is hopeless and we often spring the trap with great surprise. The Stukas are doing their job magnificently. All in all, I think that our tactic of ‘Freijagd’ (free-hunt) is most successful. We know from intelligence that British pilots are in short supply. It is only a matter of time before they concede defeat. And of course, they have no answer to our ‘Spezial-Gruppe.’

              ‘Shut your stupid mouth, Osterman. One more word out of line and you will find yourself in serious trouble.’

              The phone in Berlin slammed down and Osterman was left to ponder on his foolish slip. The top secret jet fighter, the Me 262 – nicknamed ’’Blaue-Tod’’ or Blue Death – was wreaking havoc with the RAF. They had no idea what it was or where it came from. It struck with lethal accuracy and disappeared before they knew what had hit them. However, the High Command was very secretive about the aircraft. If the British knew more about it, they would do everything in their power to seek out it's bases and destroy this powerful weapon. There were now six aircraft in operation with another twenty four due into service by early mid-July. With this fantastic new weapon – he would be dining in London before Christmas!

21

Middle Fleckney

1 July 1940

              Todd stood up in his seat, took off his flying helmet and dropped it back into the cockpit. A makeshift ladder was up against the side of the aircraft, so Todd could gingerly make his way to the hangar floor. As he turned round to meet his father, he fully intended to give him a piece of his mind, but before he could speak, the elderly gentleman standing next to the AVM put forward his hand and introduced himself.

              ‘Good afternoon, Wing Commander, your father and I have been having a most illuminating conversation. Won’t you join us?’

              Todd took the hand and shook it limply. For the first time in his life Todd was at a loss for words. This elderly gentleman appeared to be the great Winston Churchill – wartime Prime Minister of Great Britain. But how could it be? He’d been dead for over twenty five years.

              Nevertheless, it did
seem
to be him.

              The PM then turned and walked towards an office in the far corner of the hangar. Todd followed his father who held up a beckoning hand. A senior RAF officer of Air rank accompanied them. Todd looked round the hangar as he walked across it, and could see the rest of his team being rounded up and forced to sit on the floor at the other end of the hangar – hands on heads and guarded by heavily armed soldiers.

He looked back at Stumpy just in time to see him shrug off one of his captors and land him a swinging left hook which decked the soldier – typical of the man! This was immediately followed by the sound of cocking rifles, and Stumpy took that as a final warning and held up his arms in surrender.

              ‘Wing Commander, don’t be alarmed, no harm will come to your people – as long as they are sensible.’

              Todd wasn’t sure of this at all, so he shouted a command towards the group siting on the floor.

              ‘Barclay, you have the lead, get ‘Walter P’ to help you.’

              The PM stopped in his tracks and admonished Todd.

              ‘Wing Commander, I applaud your efforts at resistance, but please be assured , no harm will come to your men – I give you my word!’

              Todd couldn’t resist the temptation –

              ‘The word of a dead man, that’s rich.’

              ‘I assure you Wing Commander, that I am very much alive and intend to stay that way for the foreseeable future.’

              Todd looked at his father who was silently pleading with Todd to be quiet. Todd admitted defeat and continued the walk towards the office. It was about four hundred yards from end to end in this hangar – plenty big enough for his aircraft. But what was it doing here – and more to the point what was Todd doing here?

              They reached the office after another minute of walking. A desk and four chairs were set out in an otherwise empty space. When they had all settled, the aged gentleman started to speak.

              ‘Before I begin, Wing Commander, I believe that there is someone you should meet.’

              Todd looked at the PM with puzzlement and then at his father. The AVM nodded towards the door behind them and standing there was a vision he had no reason to expect.

              His mother, Constance Morrissey stood smiling at her son.

              ‘Mother, how did you get here? What's going on, father? What the hell is going on?’

              The Air Marshal called for calm.

              ‘Todd, please accept that your mother is here and for a very good reason, which will become abundantly clear in due course. But first things first. Let the Prime Minister say his piece. I promise you that what we are doing here is of the utmost importance.’

              The Air Marshal turned to Churchill and indicated that they were all now prepared to listen. Todd’s mother sat down at the back of the room without speaking.

              ‘Wing Commander Morrissey, I am Winston Churchill, Prime Minister of Great Britain and today’s date is the first of July 1940. And whether you like it or not, that is a fact. Whether you think that you are dreaming is irrelevant. I am real, this hangar is real and the situation you find yourself in is VERY REAL. You can either accept that fact or we can lock you away in a mental institution, because that is surely where you will end up if you try and explain this situation to a third party. However, I would be very sad to lose you, but I haven’t got time to wait for you to rationalise the situation. IT HAS HAPPENED – ACCEPT IT and we will get along swimmingly.’

              Todd looked pleadingly at his father who made only one brief comment.

              ‘Todd, listen and accept. This is as real as it seems.’

***

              This was now almost too much for Todd to take. What was his mother doing here? How did she get here? The Prime minister continued in an attempt to answer his questions.

              ‘Wing Commander, your mother appearing must be quite a shock, but I can reveal to you that she is destined to be here. If it wasn’t for her, none of you would be here, and in ten years everyone in this country would be speaking German.

Please let me continue, Wing Commander. You need to be fully appraised of the situation, because we are going to need you to win the hearts and minds of the people you command. To cut a very long story short, your mother – and father – have conspired to bring you all here. Your father has explained the situation as a ‘Causality Loop’ - whereby a situation is caused by someone interfering with the
‘timeline’
– whatever that is! The long & short of it is that you have been brought here to do a job. This country is in the middle of a terrible and mortal struggle. The odds are great, the margins small and the stakes are infinite. We need all the help we can get and quite frankly your appearance is a Godsend. The forces of evil stand at our doorstep and we must defeat them. However, their current strength is far, far too much for us. The German army is preparing to invade us and their Air Forces are slowly strangling our supply routes. Our meagre Air Force is being further reduced in air-to-air combat with the Luftwaffe even as we speak.’

              ‘Spare me the history lesson, I covered this at school.’ Todd was now becoming impatient.

              ‘If I may continue. What you probably didn’t learn at school, Wing Commander, is that the Germans have developed a terrible new weapon – code named ‘‘Blaue-Tod’’ – which is wreaking havoc on the RAF. Dowding here is being cut to pieces by this hit-and-run devil. In short, the Germans have developed a jet fighter. It is operational
now
and by the end of the month they will have two squadrons to throw at us. If they succeed in destroying the RAF, then invasion will surely follow and Hitler will be in Pall Mall by Bonfire Night. Which is where you come in – we ….. indeed, your country ……..needs you and your small force to help us combat and defeat this Nazi menace. We need to delay full production of this aircraft, so that we can bolster our own forces and go onto the attack. Currently we do not have the resources, and it seems that your force is to be our temporary avenging angel.’

              Todd was sitting with his head between his hands and only looked up when the PM had finished.

              ‘OK, OK ,OK. Let’s assume that I do accept this utterly surreal situation and decide to help you. What about the people out there in the hangar? What about their families – their lives back in 1992? You can’t just throw them to the wolves. They’ve got a right to decide. Haven’t they?

              AVM Morrissey gave Todd the answer.

              ‘Todd, that is covered. There will be a similar set of meteorological circumstances on the coming eighth of September. The weather phenomenon which brought us here will return on that date at approximately 0945. We can arrange to be airborne at that time and, God willing, we will all get back. And in any case, if we don’t get back – you can make a fortune laying bets on future sporting events.’

              This last remark infuriated Todd even more.

              ‘I don’t think that a flippant remark like that is called for – we’re talking about people’s lives here!’

              Todd's mother, who had been silent throughout the discussion now tried to explain.

              ‘Todd, listen to me very carefully. Your father and I have been working towards this day for all of our adult life. As a teenager I tracked Henry down and made it my business to get to know him socially and eventually to marry him. He was in the RAF and it was my job to ensure that he reached the position where he could manipulate events. It was no accident that your father was in control of the Flypast project. It was carefully orchestrated. As a child I was privy to work that my father Peter carried out during the Battle of Britain. It was during those days that I realised it was my destiny to co-ordinate this plan. The future of the western world is at stake – and I for one am prepared to sacrifice my life for it. But that won’t be necessary. As your father has stated, we can all get back on the eighth of September. Surely, you can wait eight or nine weeks? Surely you must help us?’

              The PM stood up and offered Lady Morrissey his own, more comfortable chair. She sat and wept silently into her handkerchief. The PM continued.

              ‘Well, Wing Commander, you now know as much as I do. Are you going to do your patriotic duty?’

              Before he could answer the sound of gunfire from outside interrupted him. They all stood up and rushed into the hangar. Todd had inadvertently played his joker. His call to Barclay Hunt, the Wing Commander in charge of the ADV crews had inspired him to recruit and employ ‘Walter,’ or rather ‘Walther,’ to overcome their guards. Aircrew on live Operations always  carried a Walther PPK underneath their life jackets.

Very surreptitiously, the captured aircrew had managed to slide their weapons out of their holsters and on a command from Hunt had surprised the guards. Over two dozen pistols were now pointed at the bemused soldiers guarding them. Hunt had fired a shot merely to alert Todd.

              Todd rushed up to the other end of the hangar. However, the two guards protecting the PM shouted for him to stop or they would fire.