All I could hear were these strange distant sounds. Everything felt very far away. I could hear voices or rather a single voice but the sound was so muffled I couldn’t make out what was being said. My body was numb, I couldn’t feel a thing, and there was no sense of where I was or where any part of me was, not my arms, my legs, or my head. Then there was this warmth, just a little at first, it seemed to surround me. I felt tired, so tired I couldn’t tell if I was waking up or falling asleep.

         “Ginger!” It sounded like my name. “Ginger!”

         That was strange, I thought to myself. Pain started to build in my head. I tried opening my eyes again. Everything was blurry, but I could see blue all around me, sky blue, but there was something covering it, there were these long dark green bars lining the sky. It didn’t matter, I was tired so I closed my eyes again, the warmth was consuming me, growing around my legs.

         “Ginger wake up!”

         That was definitely my name, then there was a muffled banging noise. I opened my eyes and managed to roll my head. Someone was banging on the bars beside me, it took me a moment to realise it was Peter.

         “Peter…” I said, but my words were barely louder than a whisper. “What are you doing…”

         The warmth was starting to turn into some serious heat, I tried to shift my leg then a pain ran up my body. That pain brought with it the memories of that day, suddenly I realised where I was.

         “I’m still in the plane…”

         The warmth turned to a burning heat. I looked down to see there was a fire in the cockpit and it had spread to my trouser leg. Suddenly, the glass behind me shattered and I felt a pair of hands grab my shoulders and start to pull me up.

         “Damn, it Ginger come on!” Peter yelled. “Your bloody seat belt!”

         I tried to tear my harness off but the burning pain was too much, I reached down to grab my knife and hurriedly cut myself free. The second I was free of the restraint, Peter ripped me out of the plane and I instinctively rolled across the grass to put out the blaze. After a few seconds, Peter helped me back to my feet.

         “Ginger! He yelled. “Bloody hell are you alright?”

         I nodded, “Yeah, my head’s still a bit fuzzy but I’m okay.”

         Peter smiled. “Good!”

         Before I could react, he slammed his fist straight into my gut, coming in right under my ribs and knocking the air out of my lungs. I doubled over, coughing up bile and saliva as I gasped for air.

         “You bloody idiot! What the hell were you thinking?” Peter roared. “Did you forget there were two of us in there?”

         “Didn’t… want to… lose him too…” I gasped.

         “Ah!” Peter yelled. “Oh, but I’m fair game, am I? You’re a real piece of work Ginger you know that?”

         It was a stupidly selfish thing to do and I knew that. While I freely admit Peter had a valid point, I still said my peace.

         “I’m sick of death!” I yelled.

         Peter fixed me with a glare, but I continued all the same. “I’m so tired of this. I’m tired of trying to smile and be grateful we made it home when nobody else did. I’m so tired of rubbing names off the board and watching as we send out boys to face this nightmare!”

         I started to sob. “I can’t do this anymore…”

         Ginger put his face in his hands and let out a sigh that was more of a growl. “Well… we’re not dead yet I’ll give you that at-”

         We both heard the buzzing sound, it was a low ominous tone building in volume, but it was no Merlin engine.

         “COVER!” Peter dived forward grabbing my shoulders and throwing us both to the ground as the dirt was torn up around us. Bullets ripped through what was left of the airframe, showering us with sparks and splinters. I looked up just as the last Focke roared overhead.

         “Damn it.” I spat.

         “Hasn’t he had enough?” Peter shouted towards the sky. “You already got us you Bosch bastard!”

         The German dipped his wing as he began a wide turn.

         “Oh, come on!” Peter yelled.

This time I was the one who grabbed him. I pulled Peter around to the other side of the wreckage, but the fire was spreading rapidly, and we couldn’t get close enough to use the machine for cover. I reached into my holster and pulled out my service revolver.

         “Yeah, like that’s going to help,” I mumbled.

         “Ginger!” Peter yelled. “Run for the trees!”

         I turned towards the treeline; it was too far we’d never make it. For a moment I considered running towards the rocket site, maybe see if any of the anti-aircraft or machine guns were still working, but of course, that was even further. Peter grabbed me again and together we started running. Though with my injured leg, I couldn’t make it more than a few steps before it gave out on me. Peter made it a few feet further before he realised and darted back and dived onto me.

         We both closed our eyes and grit our teeth as we waited for death. It wasn’t fair. Why the hell was the point in surviving the crash if we were just going to die here anyway. Guilt riddled my entire being. I’d killed us both. Not the sadistic German pilot, no, I had brought this on us. I should have stood up to Percy, maybe gone higher up the chain and had him pulled from the field. He never would have forgiven me but at least then he’d have been alive and I could have called off this attack. But none of that mattered now. The Focke was on us, its engine whaling so loud it was deafening. Then came the familiar sound of cannon and machinegun fire.

         I readied myself. Suddenly my ears were filled with the horrible screech of metal bending and breaking, it sounded like there was an explosion. I tried to look up but Peter blocked my view, then there was this even worse screech of an engine braking and suddenly something else under that, something growing louder and louder, but it was a sound I knew all too well.

         “Merlin engines…”

         Peter pushed himself off me and we both looked up just in time to see the damaged Focke plough itself into one of the fields a few hundred yards away and flying over the wreckage in a long banking turn was a single Mosquito, the board number was three, Nelsons Machine.

         “Yes!” both Peter and me erupted into a chorus of shouts and cheers as Nelson looped around.

         “You bloody beauty!” I yelled. “Well done that man!”

         Nelson gave us one final loop with his wing dipped, presumably, he was checking our surroundings for enemy activity. Then he gave us a wave which we returned as he drifted back towards the channel, heading for home.

         Peter and I both stood, smiling and watching as he went.

         “Seems the boy might just survive this after all!” Peter said.

         “He has a bloody good chance.” I agreed. “So do we though.”

Peter raised an eyebrow, “What do you mean?”

I nodded to the northern coastline. “Friendly lines are only about twenty miles up the beach.”

Peter leant back and sighed towards the sky. “All right come on then.”

“Does this mean I’m forgiven?” I asked.

I threw my arm over his shoulders so he could take the weight of my bad leg, and then together we started walking. While we took our first few steps, Peter frowned as he thought about his response.

“If we make it, and you buy me a drink… maybe.”

I laughed. “I’ll buy you the whole bloody pub mate!”

We both laughed at that.

“I hope you’ll save me a pint then!” another distant voice, but this one was also familiar.

We both turned towards the tree line, only to see another pilot stumbling out towards us, he’d had to tie a bandage around one eye and his uniform was covered in oil and soot, but I recognised Percy immediately. A smile crept across my lips.

“Well of course sir!” I called out. “Thinking of doing a special for all RAF lunatics!”

He rolled his eye and shook his head. “You and your bloody optimism.” He groaned.

Percy came over and pulled my free arm over his shoulder. Leaving me supported by both my mates.

“Listen chaps.” Percy started. “I’m sorry… I was in no fit state to-”

“Sorry to interrupt sir.” Peter jutted in. “But let’s save the apologies for the pub shall we?”

Percy gave us a weak smile. “I can get behind that.”

We all laughed. As we walked, we heard the distant buzzing of Nelson’s Mosquito heading across the channel, knowing somehow that we wouldn’t be far behind him. And though I knew even if we somehow made it past the enemy and back to friendly lines, there was a warm hospital bed and a ticket home waiting for all of us. But honestly, I would have traded it in a heartbeat if it meant just one last time, I could be behind the controls of my beloved Mosquito. Anything, to take my bird up one last time even if it were for a second pass.

 

 

The End.