JET LAG! (24 page)

The war against the British airfields -
Adlerangriff or Eagle Attack
- was about to start.

37

Downing Street

25 July 1940

The conversations with Jim Charles and Todd had side-tracked the AVM and he was discussing the issue with the Prime Minister.

‘The whole situation is surreal anyway, and I don’t think that we should allow a few minor historical inconsistencies to distract us from the task in hand. I see no reason to inform the people from 1992 as it may only serve to divert them from the main purpose of our visit to 1940.’

Churchill was in complete agreement.

‘I fully concur, Air Marshal and suggest that we keep this – shall we say - ‘delicate’ information to ourselves. Our priority must be this,
specific
time-line – this is the one we have to negotiate. Can you deal with your son? I will talk with Sir Peter – he will have no problem with accepting, and disregarding, these wholly irrelevant revelations. That leaves the man Charles. What shall we do about him? Can he be trusted? Or do we need a more permanent solution?’

The AVM grimaced.

‘I suppose by permanent, you mean an unfortunate but fatal accident for our friendly Met Man?’

‘That's up to you, Air Marshal. If you can trust him and he’ll co-operate – then that's fine. If not, we may have to take certain precautions – however unpalatable they may be. We have the greater good to consider.’

‘I’ll speak to him on my return. Now, can I mention some other vital issues concerning Radar and the tactics you are using. Additionally, we should talk about the Me 262 and it's earlier than expected appearance in the skies above Britain. This is certainly one aspect of Charles’ discoveries that we must take seriously.

38

Methwold, Norfolk

July 1940

              Sir Peter Andrews became aware of a funeral and memorial service for the wife of Air Vice Marshal Morrissey, and asked if he could attend as a mark of respect for his new ally.

              It was a simple affair and on his return to Methwold, a letter was sitting on his desk. It was handwritten and addressed personally to Sir Peter, having arrived in the morning post.

He opened the envelope and read the contents of the letter carefully, going over it several times.

By the time he put it down, tears were streaming from his eyes:

Dearest Father,

I write not to distress you, but rather to enlighten you regarding my presence in 1940.

You will have realised that I accompanied my husband, Henry, into this time period and that by now I have passed on.

For some reason it does not seem possible for the same ‘soul’ to exist in the same timeframe, and in order for your young daughter Constance to awaken from her coma, I needed to die.

I do not regret this for one second as I fully achieved the purpose of my visit to your world.

It will sadden and surprise you to know that in ‘my’ 1940, some fifty-two years ago, your son and my brother, Phillip, was accidentally killed whilst out on one of his cycling ‘adventures’. Two soldiers guarding Middle Fleckney and the 1992 aircraft came upon him, and a tragic mishap occurred, resulting in his death.

No-one was directly to blame – but the entire family was heartbroken and utterly distraught by the loss. You never got over it and neither did any of us.

Consequently, I embarked on a plan of action which might present me with the opportunity to change the outcome of the accident - and save Phillip’s life.

To cut a very long story short, I plotted and planned and manipulated until I attained my purpose and arrived here, in 1940, on the first of July.

I waited for Phillip to appear at the wood where the accident was to occur, and ran to his aid when he needed me most.

I am the woman that saved his life that afternoon.

My reward is that Phillip, you, mother
and
Constance can now fulfill their lives in peace and harmony.

Perhaps one day you can show ‘your’ Constance this letter.

All my love, for all time,

Constance.

39

Middle Fleckney

1 August 1940

              The weather closed in over the next few days and only sporadic contact with the enemy was possible. The Germans continued to test the British defences and the war of attrition continued. The British realised that they couldn’t possibly win such a war – but they wouldn’t let the Luftwaffe attack unchallenged.

              The two remaining Air Defence Tornados had played a blinder on the previous Sunday but unfortunately both aircraft lay unserviceable in the hangar at Middle Fleckney. One aircraft had a CSAS problem         (flying controls) and the other had a radar snag. The lack of spares was a very real problem, nevertheless the 1992 groundcrew were doing their best in unusually difficult circumstances.

              Todd and the executive committee had to make a decision. Was it time to start raiding one of the Recce Tornados for spare parts, so that the other six Tornados could continue flying? It was a strong argument since the Canberra PR9s were in good shape and could do the same job as the Tornado – and fly longer & higher if necessary. Obviously, the Recce crews were unhappy about the proposal, but as Todd explained, they could operate as spare crews for the bombers. Eventually, after a great deal of discussion it was decided to convert one of the Tornado Recce variants into a ‘Hangar Queen.’ This was groundcrew jargon for an aircraft abandoned in the hangar used
entirely
for spare parts.

              However, this decision had ramifications. What would happen to the spare and unflyable aircraft when the 1992 team returned to their own time – or at least tried to return – on the eighth of September. Sir Peter Andrews came up with the solution.

              ‘Why don’t we mothball what’s left, store it securely and arrange for it to be accessed in ten or twenty years’ time. Surely our engineers of the future could use such technology to give Britain a head start in the development of advanced jet fighters.’

              Todd answered for all those present.

              ‘I’m not sure that would be the right thing to do. Couldn’t that be conceived as interfering with the time-line and changing the course of history? I mean, might that not give us a weird sort of unfair advantage?’

              Todd’s father answered him.

              ‘What do you think we are doing now, Todd? Believe me when I say that mothballing the Recce Tornado for future use is exactly the right thing to do.’

              AVM Morrissey turned to Sir Peter Andrews and issued one terse request.

              ‘Sir Peter, I suggest that this aircraft is indeed mothballed and stored, in secret, at a small airfield near Preston, called Warton. It should be guarded and hidden well. Furthermore, I recommend that its location is only revealed to a man whose name I will place in a sealed envelope to be held by the Prime Minister’s office until 1 January 1960.’

              The penny dropped. The more astute of the executives around the table immediately realised the meaning of this request. The Recce jet would be put to good use in the future. Warton was the home – in the year 1992 – to one of the greatest aircraft manufacturers Britain had ever produced – British Aerospace!

They indeed would inherit an incredibly unfair advantage.

***

              The meeting continued and next considered the role of the remaining aircraft available. Four bombers, two Air Defence fighters, one Recce jet, two Recce Canberras and one ECM (Electronic Counter Measures) Canberra. There was also the not insignificant problem of morale amongst the aircrews.

              The VC10 and C-130 crews had not flown since arrival in 1940, and were unlikely to do so until the eighth of September. Consequently, it was important to keep them actively employed on other duties – to give them a purpose so that they felt that they were contributing to the combined effort. An efficient man is a happy man – and vice versa - so Todd appointed Squadron Leader Julie Grant, the senior crewmember from the C-130 to head the team dealing with flight planning, man management and, most importantly, morale.

She would make sure that every officer not directly involved with flying had a specific job to do. From running the canteen to organising sports events to counselling duties. Julie Grant had a natural flair for this type of work, and by early August there wasn’t an officer or airman in the group she didn’t know or hadn’t spoken to. She interviewed all personnel and allocated secondary duties to everyone according to their interests, qualifications and strengths. She was elected to the executive team and attended daily meetings, where she kept the senior staff up to date on matters of morale. It was a great weight off Todd's mind and meant that he could concentrate on the main aim – that of co-ordinating flying operations.

              The long term weather forecast was good. It showed that an area of high pressure was moving in from the Atlantic and that the English Channel area could expect excellent flying weather over the next few weeks. This didn’t actually help team 1992 since they preferred to hide in bad weather, so that the Germans were kept guessing about their presence. Sir Peter Andrews realised that the Germans must have some idea of what was going on – as the British knew about the ‘Blaue-Tod’. But it was essential that the truth about team 1992 was never discovered. He had to admit, it was a pretty difficult secret to keep, but if they could just keep it quiet until the eighth of September, there would be no concrete proof – only speculation, hearsay and circumstantial evidence.

              Todd was obliged to search out and find the new bases housing the Luftwaffe jet ‘Blaue-Tod’– real name – Me 262, so that they could have another go at destroying them in their own nests. The Me 262 had been plaguing the RAF for the past few days. They would accompany the main force, but would remain and lurk at high altitude and up sun. Their sky blue camouflage made them almost undetectable. As the two main antagonists battled over the Channel, the Me 262s would wait their turn and as the Spitfires disengaged after running out of fuel, the Luftwaffe jets would scream in after them causing significant losses for the RAF. Fifteen Spitfires and twelve Hurricanes had been lost in this way over the past three days. The British were at a loss what to do. The ADV Tornados were no help as they were unserviceable, so the success of their initial mission on the twenty-eighth of July had yet to be repeated. The RAF Spits and Hurricanes couldn’t chase the Nazi jets, as they couldn’t match the incredible speed and climbing power of these formidable aircraft.

              However, the losses to the RAF could not continue. Therefore, it was decided to launch the Tornado bombers and the ECM Canberra to try to pre-warn the 1940s RAF of inbound Me 262s. The Canberra would set up a patrol at high level, out over the wash. It could remain on station for several hours without refuelling. It would listen out on its sophisticated electronic equipment and when it heard the incoming Me 262s, the Canberra crew would do two things.

Firstly, they would jam the German inter-aircraft transmissions and saturate their frequencies with mind-numbing ‘white-noise.’ Secondly ,they would scramble the four bombers who would be fitted with guns and Aim-9 Air-to-Air missiles (AAMs). The adapted Tornado bombers would intercept the Me 262s before they could reach the homeward bound RAF aircraft, and hopefully prevent further carnage. It was an excellent plan in theory – but would it work?

              In the meantime, the Canberra PR9 would fly twice daily missions over the Dutch and Danish coastlines to try and identify the home bases for the Messerschmitts. The plan was set, and the first sorties would be flown the next day – the fourth of August.

40

Over the North Sea

4 August 1940

              The morning of the pro-active mission brought fair weather. This was bad news for team 1992, but they were determined to put the plan into action. Some hi-level cirrus between twenty five and thirty thousand feet might give some protection for the modern aircraft – but not much. They would have to be very careful indeed not to be spotted by any eagle-eyed enemy pilot. Todd prayed that the two ADV Tornados would soon be repaired – as it was unnatural for a bomber crew to operate at this height. Low level was his natural environment, and being at thirty thousand feet or more was alien to him and the other bomber crews – unless of course, they were transitting to a distant airbase or refuelling.