A Flight of Golden Wings (10 page)

‘I agree,’ Ruth said. ‘Let’s all go in uniform for a change, and we can use my car. I’ve got enough petrol for this one trip.’

An hour later they all squeezed into Ruth’s car, in high spirits, and set off for London.

With flying over for the day, Jack was still in the Mess, listening to the wireless. In April Germany had invaded Yugoslavia and Greece and, having failed in their attempt to bring Britain to her knees and complete his domination of Europe, Hitler had turned his attention to Russia. Was there no end to the man’s ambition?

‘Still here, Jack?’ Simon sat down beside him.

‘Yeah. Don’s in Scotland, and the rest of them are scattered all over the country. It’ll be a bit lonely at the house tonight so I thought I’d stay here for a while.’ Jack changed the subject. Most of the time he was too busy to feel homesick, but it had a habit of creeping up on him when he relaxed. He changed the subject. ‘The factories are turning out planes as fast as we can shift them. We need more pilots, Simon.’

‘We’ll have a few more from today. Haven’t you heard?’

‘What?’

‘Four of the women flew a Hurricane today under the watchful eyes of Captain Anders.’

‘Wow! Who was it, and how did they do?’

‘It was Sally, Ruth, Tricia and Gussie. Anders told me they flew them with ease, and he was particularly pleased with the smooth landings. He sees no reason why they shouldn’t all soon be flying the operational planes in this group.’

‘Good for them!’ Jack slapped his knee in delight. ‘Hey, we ought to go and congratulate them.’

‘That will have to wait until tomorrow. The last I heard they were all heading for London for a night out.’

Jack was disappointed. He saw very little of Ruth and
would have enjoyed joining in their celebrations. ‘They should have told us and we could have gone with them.’

‘That wouldn’t have been right, Jack. What they did today was a milestone for them, and they’ll want to share this moment with each other.’

‘Of course they will.’ Jack stood up. ‘But there’s nothing to stop us raising a glass to their success. Come on, Simon, I’ll buy you a pint at the pub.’

‘Hey, Mom!’ Lucy tore into the house waving a letter. ‘The girls are flying the fighters now! Jack says there’s talk of them taking on some American women pilots, but he doesn’t know yet who will be in charge of the recruitment. He suggests I contact the committee he saw. They’ve got an office in the Waldorf Astoria in New York, and should be able to help me.’

Bet watched her excited daughter with a heavy heart, certain now that both of her children were going to end up in a country at war, and so far from home. Nevertheless, she smiled. It had been inevitable. She’d known that from the moment Jack had dropped his bombshell. ‘You’d better write at once then, honey.’

‘You sure you don’t mind?’

‘I mind, but you’re not going to be happy unless you do this,’ Bet said wistfully. ‘I’ve seen the way you wait for the mail, unable to contain yourself as you search for a letter from Jack or Ruth.’

Lucy hugged her mother. ‘You’re the best, do you know that?’

‘Of course I know it. Isn’t that what I’ve always told you?’ Bet asked, making them both chuckle.

‘Sure.’ Lucy sat at the table, paper and pen at the ready to write her important letter. She couldn’t wait to join Jack in England. She missed him terribly, but it was more than that. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity to do something quite unheard of in the flying world – women flying all kinds of operational aircraft! She just had to be a part of it.

‘Think carefully about what you’re getting into, Lucy.’ Bet spoke gently, not wanting to interfere, but desperate that her daughter should realise the full consequences of what she was planning. Jack was a man now, and a sensible one at that, but Lucy was her little girl. ‘Pilots are losing their lives in the ATA, and the sea crossing is terribly dangerous. A few pilots have died when their ship was torpedoed.’

Lucy put down the pen and turned to face her mother. She understood her concerns. ‘I’ve thought long and hard about this, Mom. I’m aware of the risks and am prepared to take them. These women are making history and, like Jack, I want to be a part of their struggle to survive. The work they’re doing is essential if the RAF are to keep the planes flying.’ Lucy gave her mother a wry grimace. ‘It’s all your fault, you know. You’ve brought us up to have a social conscience, and to care about anyone suffering injustice.’

‘So I did.’ Bet patted her daughter’s shoulder. ‘And I wouldn’t have you any other way, so write your letter.’

It only took Lucy about ten minutes and she was running
for the nearest mailbox. As the letter plopped inside, she turned and walked back to the house. All she could do now was wait.

At first they had only been given Hurricanes to deliver, but now Ruth had finally got her hands on a Spitfire. The nose was raised, obstructing the view on take-off and landing, but once in the air it was a dream. This one was straight from the factory and had to be delivered to the maintenance unit to have the guns and radio fitted. She saw the airfield ahead and turned to make her approach, sorry the short flight was over, but there would be many more after this.

Her landing was smooth and she taxied towards a parking place being indicated by an RAF man.

He jumped up almost before she had stopped and leant into the cockpit to release her harness, swore and shot back, looking at her in astonishment. ‘Blimey! You’re a woman! You can’t fly Spits!’

‘Really?’ She unsnapped the harness and smiled sweetly before climbing out. Then she looked up at the sound of a plane coming in to land. ‘Here comes another one. I don’t suppose anyone’s told her she can’t fly it either.’

There were three men now watching the Spitfire execute a perfect landing.

‘Bloody hell!’ one muttered. ‘What are you women going to do next?’

‘The bombers are next on our list,’ Ruth told them. There was much shaking of heads and knowing looks.

‘You’d never be able to control them, ducky. You ain’t strong enough.’

Ruth chose to ignore them. It was quite likely that they would never be allowed to fly the big four-engine planes, but she did love to tease the men. Some had readily accepted them for their skill as pilots, but others still had closed minds.

Tricia climbed out and jumped to the ground. ‘Gussie’s right behind me. The factory’s got fighters lined up and are shouting for them to be shifted fast. Sally’s coming in the Anson to take us back.’

‘We’d better go and report in then.’ Ruth hoisted her parachute on to her shoulder and walked beside her friend, leaving the men open-mouthed in utter disbelief.

Just then a fighter screamed low over the airfield, climbed and waggled its wings.

‘That’s Gussie,’ they said in unison.

Ruth pulled a face. ‘And I bet she’s been throwing that plane all over the sky just for the hell of it. She’ll be hauled over the coals if anyone finds out.’

‘Hmm.’ Tricia sighed wistfully. ‘But it would be worth it. Don’t tell me you weren’t tempted, Ruth.’

‘Oh, I was tempted, but we’re not in the military and could be sacked. I love flying for the ATA far too much to risk it.’ She cast her friend a sideways glance. ‘Mind you, I’d wait until I was well out of sight of everyone if I did have some fun with the Spit. Not that I would, of course.’

‘No, of course you wouldn’t. Neither would I.’ Tricia had a look of complete innocence on her face. ‘Let’s get the tea lined up for our stunt pilot.’

Ten minutes later, Gussie joined them, looking her usual lively self. She grabbed a mug. ‘Oh, thanks, I’m gasping. There’s two more on their way.’

The men had followed Gussie as if they couldn’t quite believe their eyes at the sight of these women nonchalantly carrying parachutes after flying
their
fighters.

‘All women?’ one croaked. ‘Flying Spitfires?’

Gussie took a gulp of tea. ‘A couple are in Hurricanes, I believe.’

One man lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender. ‘What’s the world coming to?’

They were on their second cup of tea when the others arrived, quickly followed by Sally. The taxi service was becoming very efficient and enabled them to save time so they could take on more deliveries.

After everyone had finished their refreshments – for they never knew when they would have time for anything more – they all climbed into the Anson, and were on their way to collect the next delivery.

Dumfries was Ruth’s next destination. On arrival she went to see if they had another delivery to go from there.

‘We’ve got something for Hawarden,’ the operations officer told her.

That would get her part of the way home, and she might be able to get another ferry job from there. ‘Good, I’ll take it.’

He gave her a strange look. ‘You don’t know what it is yet.’

She managed to keep the smile on her face with effort when she saw the plane he was pointing out. She had been lucky up to now and managed to avoid this particular plane. It was an Airacobra. The pilots who had flown it said that at low speeds it vibrated badly, and had a nasty habit of swinging on take-off. These were just two of its many faults, according to reports.

‘I’ll see to the paperwork,’ she stated confidently. There was no way she could refuse this ferry. The girls were all very aware that any adverse report about them could hold them back in the future. Planes had to be shifted, and they never refused, whatever their odd characteristics.

The officer still looked doubtful. ‘You’ve flown it before, have you?’

‘No.’ She took out the book of
Handling Notes
from her pocket and flipped it open at the Airacobra page. ‘I’ve got everything I need here.’

He took the book out of her hands and turned the pages slowly. Then he sucked in a breath and shook his head. ‘Are you telling me that you step into a strange aircraft armed only with these notes?’

‘And our maps.’ She waited while he continued to study the
Handling Notes
with great interest.

‘These are good. First time I’ve seen them.’

‘They’re excellent.’ He was clearly interested so she explained further for him. ‘The aircraft are put into certain classes. Once we’ve flown one type in each class, we are cleared to fly all the others in that class.’

‘Even if you’ve never seen it before?’ He was still having difficulty grasping this.

She nodded. ‘But you must have come across this before now. The men use the same system.’

‘I’ve only just been posted here.’ The look he cast her was one of respect. ‘These notes cover dozens of aircraft. You’re expected to fly any of them?’

‘If they’ve got to be shifted, then we fly them.’

‘The Airacobra isn’t liked by the RAF.’

‘It isn’t a favourite of the ATA either, but we’ve never bent one, and I don’t intend to be the first. Now, I’d like to get the delivery chit and be on my way.’

‘Of course.’

With the necessary papers in her pocket and a phone call to Hatfield to let them know where she was going, Ruth climbed into the plane. After checking the controls against her
Handling Notes
, she patted it and said firmly, ‘You just behave yourself and don’t disgrace either of us. We’ve got an audience.’

Giving a confident wave to the group of men who had gathered to watch, she set off, making sure she kept up the revs. It did have a tendency to swing about on take-off, but Ruth got it into the air without any mishap. Now all she had to do was land at Hawarden. At least there was plenty of space there to land a temperamental aircraft.

The airfield was a welcome sight and the landing was accomplished without too much difficulty. She knew that there were one or two pilots who actually liked flying this plane, but after this experience it certainly wasn’t top of her list. Some planes were loved and almost flew themselves, others were not so nice; but it was all in a day’s work for them.

‘Have you got anything that needs to go south?’ she asked on checking in.

‘No, sorry.’

Oh, blast! she thought. She would have to phone Hatfield and see if there was any chance of being picked up, and if not, then it would be a train journey. That was such a waste of time when she could be making another delivery. She’d
try something else first. ‘Is there any chance of cadging a lift?’

‘Well, there’s couple more of your lot here. Why don’t you see what they’re doing? You’ll find them in the Mess, I think.’

Ruth’s stomach growled. She hadn’t had anything to eat since breakfast, and it was now gone two o’clock. ‘Can I get something to eat?’

‘They’ll rustle you up something.’

‘Thanks.’ Ruth had been here many times before and knew where to go. When she walked in she picked out the distinctive dark blue ATA uniform immediately, and headed towards the table where the two men were sitting.

They were deep in conversation and leapt to their feet, taken by surprise when she greeted them. It was Don and Jack.

‘Ruth!’ Don gave her a bear hug, which produced whistles from some of the other men there.

Jack didn’t follow his friend’s exuberant greeting, but just gave a lazy smile. ‘What have you brought in?’

‘An Airacobra.’

Pulling a comical face, Don held a chair for her to sit down. ‘The first time I flew one of those I thought it was going to shake itself to bits. How did you get on with it?’

‘Not bad, but it’s not one of the nicest planes I’ve ever flown.’ She glanced at their empty plates. ‘I’m starving.’

‘I’ll get you something.’ Jack stood up at once. ‘What do you want?’

‘Anything.’ She watched him stride towards the counter and, not for the first time, couldn’t help noticing
that he moved with smooth elegance for such a big man.

He soon returned with a plate of spam, chips and a couple of slices of bread and margarine.

‘Oh, lovely, thanks.’ She tucked in, eating steadily until there wasn’t a scrap left. Then she sighed. ‘That’s better.’

‘Have you got another delivery to pick up from here?’ Jack asked.

She shook her head, taking a gulp of the tea Don had just given her. ‘What are you both doing?’

‘Don’s on his way to Prestwick, and I’ve managed to get a lift to Brize Norton in an RAF Hudson. I’m sure they’ll take you as well.’

‘That would be terrific, Jack. When are they leaving?’

‘In around twenty minutes’ time.’ Jack stood up again. ‘Let’s go and see the pilot.’

After saying cheerio to Don, they made their way over to the plane. The pilot was doing the pre-flight checks.

‘Could you take me as well, please?’ Ruth asked.

He merely nodded. ‘Hop on board. We’ll be leaving in a few minutes.’

Don was already in a Spitfire, and tearing along to gain take-off speed.

‘He’s enjoying himself,’ Ruth remarked, as they watched the plane climb into the air.

‘Yeah.’ Jack helped her into the plane. ‘But aren’t we all? The ATA is giving us the chance to fly many different aircraft. It’s a rare opportunity, and one we’ll probably never get again.’

‘You’re quite right.’ Ruth settled down. ‘Who would have believed women would be flying fighters.’

Jack nodded. ‘Lucy’s dead jealous, and is frantic to get over here and join in.’

‘She told me. Do you know if she’s heard anything yet?’

‘No, and Ma said she practically attacks the mailman every day. She won’t let him go until he’s proved he hasn’t got a delivery for her.’

Ruth could just picture the scene. ‘I know exactly how she feels.’

Further conversation was out of the question as the engines roared into life. They both relaxed and closed their eyes, taking this chance to rest until they reached Brize Norton. They might be able to get another delivery from there, or catch the taxi Anson back to base.

On arrival, they found Rob there looking distraught. Ruth was sure there were tears in his eyes. She had soon discovered that the Americans showed their emotions, unashamed, where the English tried to keep them hidden. She liked that about them.

‘What’s happened, Rob?’ Jack was already by his side.

‘Tricia’s missing.’ His voice was husky.

Ruth’s heart missed a couple of beats, but she quickly assured herself that there would be a perfectly good reason for them losing track of her. ‘She could have landed at any airfield, Rob, and hasn’t reported in yet.’