War Girls Complete Collection Chapter 285

Chapter 4: Tom

T

om climbed down from his plane and jumped onto the ground.

“Hey, lovesick for your kite?” one of the other pilots shouted as he saw him walking toward the hangar.

“Nah, just making sure she’s good to go any time.” Tom had been on standby since his last bombing mission several days ago. Grueling weeks and months of almost constant sorties to deliver his deadly cargo over Germany lay behind him. And now he used the time off flying duty to check up on his kite and polish the cockpit until it shone.

“Kinda feels strange to be grounded, right?” the other bloke, called Jeff, asked.

“We’re not grounded.”

“So what are we then? Nobody’s flying right now. All sorties have been canceled.”

Tom cocked his head. “Something big’s coming. I can feel it in my bones.”

“You and your bones.” Jeff laughed. “You remind my of my old grandpa, who used to predict the weather by the aching in his bones.”

Sometimes Tom felt like an old man. In fact, he had ever since the Gestapo had done their best to pull him limb from limb. Before that unpleasant experience, he’d always chalked up the weather-feeling bones to superstition and charlatanry. But nowadays the old fractures in his bones ached and pulled whenever something was prone to happen. He couldn’t explain it, wouldn’t even try with his comrades, or risk being ridiculed, but he still felt it.

Tom looked toward the barracks in the distance, deciding he’d take a nice hot shower first. He might be able to get some news later in the mess hall. He waved at Jeff as they reached the hangar. “Catch up with you later.”

“Sure, mate.”

Tom walked into the barracks, where he came across his friend and superior, Wing Commander William Huntley, who grinned when he saw where Tom had come from. “You already missing the sorties?”

“Yes.” Tom decided to use the opportunity and asked, “I hear we’re grounded for the next few days?”

“Are we?”

“Any reason why?” He asked as casually as possible, making it sound like an afterthought, but William gave him an infuriatingly lazy grin.

“Trying to tease classified information out of me? You should know better,” William roared and punched Tom’s shoulder. “If I have any news worth sharing, everyone will be hearing it.”

Tom grinned. “Can’t blame me for trying.” He passed and went to his room where he grabbed a towel and took off for the ablutions block. Much to his dismay, the shower wasn’t hot, but at least it was lukewarm, and he scrubbed off the oily smear from his hands and face.

When he was finished, he headed out for the tarmac where several other men were playing football to pass the time. Tom joined the game, realizing he was going to need another shower by the time it ended. An hour later, he wiped the sweat from his brow just as the siren rang out across the base and an overhead speaker crackled.

A booming voice summoned all flight personnel to the main hangar. Tom wondered at the cause for such an unusual request. In the hangar the Air Commodore himself stood on a makeshift platform, waiting with a serene but happy face for the men to assemble.

“Gentlemen, the war is over,” he said without preamble. “Yesterday, Germany surrendered unconditionally.”

Tom looked at those standing around him and asked, “Did you all hear the same thing I did?”

His mates nodded and after several seconds of shock-induced rigidity, whoops of excitement rang out all across the base. The men hugged, slapped each other on the back, jumped into the air, raised their fists to the sky, shouted, yelled, and some even cried. Obviously nobody wanted to be caught expressing such an unmanly emotion, and Tom saw more than one fellow furtively wiping his eyes.

Himself, he choked on the emotion.

Ursula

, was his first thought.

I’ll go and find her

. He’d left her in Berlin in 1943 and he still loved her with every fiber of his soul. Despite their technically being enemies, despite not having seen or heard from her in such a long time. If it had been up to him, he’d board his kite this very instant and fly across the channel to search for her.

Instead, he celebrated with his fellow pilots. Someone unearthed a bottle of gin that soon made its way around. More bottles followed and the jolly good mood captured the entire base.

“Can’t believe it. Thought this day would never come,” Jeff remarked.

“I wonder how long before we can go home. I haven’t had a furlough since Christmas.”

“First thing I’ll do is marry my girl,” a shy youngster from the ground crew said.

“That’s a good plan, lad.” Tom looked at him, a wistful dream forming in his brain. He would find Ursula and marry her. And then they’d live happily ever after. With that thought it was Tom’s turn to furtively blink a tear from his eyes.

After several minutes the Air Commodore’s loud voice filled the hangar again, “I’m sorry to disrupt your celebration. However, I must remind you all that we still have a job to do.”

Groans of disbelief and disappointment echoed through the large space.

“While the war is over, our part isn’t. I realize that you’d rather go home to see your sweethearts, but there won’t be extra leaves for the time being.” The Air Commodore gazed at the crowd of gathered men and then continued, “We have been ordered to support the ground troops. We’ll be flying supplies into Germany and bringing back our released prisoners of war.” His gaze hardened. “Some of them are in pretty bad shape, so time is crucial.”

Tom nodded, remembering the lads at Fallingbostel. The term

in

pretty bad shape

definitely had applied to them.

Looking around, he saw the faces of his fellow pilots, along with the faces of all those who weren’t amongst them anymore. Shot down. Killed. Bailed out. Missing. Imprisoned. If they could rescue even one of them, he – and all of his comrades – would gladly forgo their furloughs for another month, or even a year.

Tom, though, had another reason to be happy about the continued missions. He hoped to be able to go to Berlin and find Ursula.