A Flight of Golden Wings (3 page)

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Authors: Beryl Matthews

BOOK: A Flight of Golden Wings
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Nothing was happening! When war had been declared there had been a flurry of activity as the RAF had taken over the airfield and they’d had to move the flying-school planes. Ruth had helped Simon and Phil to fly them to a base in Cornwall where they would stay for the time being. After that, many pilots like Ruth had been grounded, and the happy days of flying wherever they pleased were over.

She gazed around the garden. It was a riot of colour as flowers of every kind burst into bloom and lifted their faces to the sunshine. Christmas had come and gone, and the New Year of 1940 had arrived to an uncertain future. Now it was spring and such a lovely day. Tipping her head back Ruth studied the clear blue sky. The longing to be up there again was like a physical pain.

‘They’re calling this the phoney war.’ Alice joined her daughter in the garden and smiled as she enjoyed the lovely sight of so much colour.

Ruth jumped. She had been lost in thought and hadn’t heard her mother come out. ‘Yes, but I don’t suppose it feels like that to the boys in France. Things aren’t going well, are they?’

‘No, it’s worrying. Your father thinks this is the calm before the storm here, and things could get very nasty soon. I hope he’s wrong.’

‘Hmm.’ Ruth watched the birds and sighed deeply. ‘I thought I might join the WAAF, Mother. I can’t hang around doing nothing. It’s driving me mad.’

‘They don’t fly, darling,’ Alice pointed out gently, ‘and I know that’s what you want to do. What about this Air Transport Auxiliary you were telling us about? They’ve taken on some women, haven’t they?’

‘Only eight, and they are all instructors with a lot more flying hours than I’ve logged.’

‘Why don’t you try them before you make a decision? I don’t believe you would be happy in the WAAF.’

‘They’ve got my name on their list, but I don’t hold out much hope. There are strong objections to women flying planes in wartime.’ She gave a dry laugh. ‘At least if I join the WAAF I’ll be near planes and be able to weep all over them.’

‘Bad as that, is it?’ Alice slipped her hand through her daughter’s arm.

‘It’s terrible. I feel bereft and lost. Simon must have felt like this when he failed his physical for the RAF.’

Alice shook her head. ‘I think it’s ridiculous to fail someone with Simon’s flying experience and ability just because his eyesight isn’t perfect. I know he does wear glasses for close work, and what difference is being colour-blind going to make? And he didn’t even know he had that problem.’

‘No, it’s never bothered him. But at least the ATA have snapped him up.’

‘I know you’ve explained it to me, Ruth, but what exactly do they hope to achieve?’

‘The idea is to utilise pilots with private licences, and that includes some airline pilots, I believe. They are to be used in case of emergency for communication, delivering medical supplies or patients to hospitals, and generally being useful in any kind of an emergency. Planes also need to be ferried from manufacturers to airfields all over the country.’ Ruth shrugged. ‘There are plenty of women who could do that, as well.’

‘Is it a part of the military?’

‘No, they are all civilians who have signed a contract to do this work.’ Ruth looked at her mother and smiled. ‘So what do you really think about me joining the WAAF?’

‘That’s up to you, darling. You must do what you feel is right for you, but I would urge you not to make a hasty decision.’

At that moment they heard the sound of footsteps on the gravel path and saw Simon walking towards them, looking very smart in his dark blue uniform with gold wings embroidered on the jacket. He also had dark circles of exhaustion around his eyes.

‘Simon!’ Alice smiled. ‘We were just talking about you. Were your ears burning?’

He grinned and held out an envelope to Ruth. ‘I’ve been asked to deliver this to you in person.’ She frowned. ‘What is it?’

‘Open it and see.’

‘I’ll go and make some tea. Come inside and sit down.’ Alice patted Ruth’s arm and then walked back in to the house.

‘Well, don’t you want to know what’s in the letter?’ Simon asked when they were settled in the living room.

The envelope was neatly typed and rather official looking, but there was nothing on it to indicate who it was from. Puzzled, Ruth glanced at Simon. ‘What is this, and why have you delivered it by hand?’

Simon sat back, his eyes gleaming in amusement at her hesitation. ‘Stop fussing, Ruth. Read it and then all your questions will be answered.’

Without further delay, she slit open the envelope and removed a single sheet of paper. She had to read it twice before she could actually believe what she was seeing. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Alice returned with the tea, and when she noticed her daughter’s stunned expression, asked, ‘What is it, darling? I hope it isn’t bad news.’

It took a while for Ruth to find her voice, so great was her excitement. She spoke in a breathless rush. ‘It’s the ATA! They’ve asked to see me. They’re going to take on more women pilots!’

This astounding news was too much for Ruth and she was on her feet, reading the letter again – just to make sure. ‘Oh, Simon, tell me this is true. Tell me I’m not dreaming!’

‘It’s true.’ Simon leant forward. ‘They’ve decided that women pilots can ferry the trainers and release the men for other types of aircraft.’

‘We could fly anything,’ Ruth declared with confidence.

‘I know that, but don’t rush things. Get in first and see how things develop after that.’

She nodded. Simon was sensible, as always. She waved
the letter. ‘They’re asking me to go for an interview next week at Hatfield. Do you know how many more they are taking, Simon?’

‘I’m not sure, but I think it’s only five or six at the moment.’

Ruth grimaced. ‘What do you think my chances are?’

‘I can’t answer that,’ he told her. ‘But you have a number of things in your favour. You have a ‘B’ licence and have taken a navigation course. You’ve also done quite a bit of cross-country flying, so that will help. Don’t forget to take your log books.’

‘I won’t.’

‘Don’t look so worried. I believe you’re just the kind of pilot they’re looking for, and I’ve told them so.’

‘Oh, thank you!’ Ruth’s doubt faded as excitement took over. ‘I’m sure your recommendation will help enormously.’

‘You’d have got in eventually.’ Simon rubbed a hand over his eyes. ‘Things are not going well in France, as you know, Ruth. A lot of RAF boys have been doing ferry work, but they are now needed as operational pilots. If the signs are correct, then the ATA are going to need all the pilots they can find, male and female.’

‘That is good news.’ Alice smiled at her daughter. ‘I told you to wait before joining the WAAF. You’ll be much happier if you’re flying, won’t she, Simon?’

‘Absolutely. You’d have found the WAAF very frustrating, Ruth.’

‘How are your parents, Simon?’ Alice handed him a cup of tea. ‘I haven’t seen them for a while.’

‘They’re fine. Dad’s rushed off his feet with the practice. He’s just lost his junior doctor to the army.’

‘Oh dear. Is he still cross with you for not going to medical school?’

‘No, I think he’s come to terms with the disappointment, and is even showing some interest in my flying now.’ He stood up. ‘I must get back. Don’t worry, Ruth. Fly in your usual calm and efficient way and you’ll sail through the tests.’

 

With Simon’s advice fixed in her mind, Ruth made her way to Hatfield on the appointed day, determined to become a member of the ATA.

She was early and stood by a window watching the planes landing and taking off. It was very busy and there was an air of urgency about the place. No one believed they were being told the whole truth about the situation in France, but it was clear that the Germans were advancing. Ten days earlier on 10th May Winston Churchill had become prime minister and the Germans had invaded Holland, Belgium and Luxembourg.

Ruth’s mouth firmed. She had skill as a pilot and was going to damned well use it, she thought. A Magister landed and the pilot stepped out carrying a parachute and headed for the building. The door swung open and a diminutive girl walked in, tossed her parachute on a chair, and then grinned at Ruth.

‘Hello, my name’s Tricia.’ They shook hands. ‘God, I’m gasping for a cup of tea.’

‘I’m not sure if there’s any around. I’m waiting to be interviewed for the ATA.’

‘Ah, good, we need more women pilots.’

The door opened again and another woman looked in. ‘Tricia, can you take that Magister you’ve just brought in up to Lee-on-Solent? It’s urgent and you’re the only one
back so far. There’s a Tiger Moth waiting there for you to bring back.’

‘Oh, and there I thought you were going to ask me to collect a Spitfire!’ Both women laughed at the joke. ‘I’ll just go and check with the Met to see what the weather’s doing, then I’ll be on my way.’ Tricia was already grabbing her parachute and taking some papers from the other woman.

‘Don’t take any chances with the weather, Tricia. Keep below the clouds.’

The girl nodded in agreement and headed for the door, where she paused and looked at Ruth. ‘Good luck. I’ll see you around soon, I expect.’

‘I really hope so.’

Then she was gone and Ruth was alone again. As the Magister took off and disappeared from sight, she shook her head. Tricia hadn’t managed to grab a cup of tea before she’d left. Ruth fidgeted. She wanted to be a part of this so much it hurt.

There was no more time for thought as Ruth was called in for the interview and then taken on a short flight to assess her handling of a plane. She felt she had acquitted herself well, but couldn’t help feeling a pang of disappointment when told that she must go to White Waltham for a final test in a few days’ time. She had been hoping to get everything settled today, but she was well aware they had to be sure they were going to get a competent and reliable pilot. The women especially were under scrutiny, because some people still believed that women shouldn’t be doing such work. Ruth didn’t know how many women they had asked to see, but it was certain that she wasn’t the only one.

On her way home, Ruth mulled over Tricia’s joke about delivering a fighter plane when they were only allowed to fly the trainers. The women must be finding that frustrating, knowing that many of them were more experienced pilots than a lot of the young men now taking to the air …

 

Before Ruth’s test at White Waltham, Calais had fallen and the evacuation of Dunkirk was under way. Britain was now in a desperate situation as they tried to rescue the army from the beaches. She hadn’t seen or heard from Simon and guessed that he was busy trying to keep the RAF supplied with planes. Her desire to do something to help was increasing with every piece of news she received.

‘Do stop pacing, darling,’ Ruth’s mother urged. ‘Your test is tomorrow, then you’ll soon be flying again.’

‘Sorry I’m so restless, Mother.’ Ruth grimaced. ‘I hate standing around doing nothing.’

‘I know you do, and you’ve always been the same. Even as a little girl we could never keep you still, but I think we’ll all have plenty to do soon.’

Ruth sat down, frowning fiercely. ‘What’s going to happen to us now? Will Hitler just continue his advance and come straight across the Channel?’

‘He’d be a fool not to.’ George Aspinall entered. ‘But we all know he’s unpredictable, and the Channel won’t be that easy to cross. My guess is he’ll attack by air first.’

For the rest of the day Ruth helped her mother in the garden. This wasn’t her favourite activity, but she would do anything to pass the time before her test. And the beauty of the garden helped to ease the worry about the future.

She spent a restless night praying that the weather would be good enough to take the test, and was relieved when morning dawned clear and bright. She was keyed up and had no intention of failing.

When she arrived at the airfield, the examiner wasted no time in taking her up. He said very little except to give her instructions to carry out certain manoeuvres. The only indication he gave after she’d landed was a brief smile and to tell her that she handled a plane well.

Then it was back home to wait again.

 

The evacuation of Dunkirk ended on the 4th of June, and by some miracle hundreds of thousands of British, Commonwealth, French and Belgian troops had been rescued. To snatch so many from the beaches was an astonishing achievement, but everyone was conscious that the Germans were on the other side of a narrow strip of water.

During the next two weeks, Ruth waited impatiently for the post to arrive. She was sure she had done well in the tests, but didn’t dare hope too much, for she knew that if she received a rejection the disappointment would be crushing. She had also been told that the ATA were expanding the women’s section and were examining quite a few applicants. She was up against quite a lot of competition and they would be careful about making the right selection.

At last the letter arrived and she couldn’t help giving a little jig of delight. She had been accepted and had to report to Hatfield in three days’ time.

After telling her parents the good news, Ruth began to pack a small bag, taking only the essentials and two
decent dresses, just in case they had time for a social life.

‘Didn’t you say you had three days before you needed to report?’ Ruth’s mother came in and frowned at the case on the bed.

‘I’m going straight away to see if I can get digs near the airfield.’ Ruth smiled to soften the news. Her parents were going to miss having her around, but so many families were facing the same situation. ‘I want to get settled first.’

‘Of course you do, and that’s very sensible,’ Alice agreed. ‘I’m sure if Robert were still alive he would already be in the RAF.’

Ruth gave an affectionate laugh as she remembered her brother. ‘And he’d be right in the thick of things as a fighter pilot.’

‘Be careful, darling.’ Alice couldn’t hide her worry.

‘I will, and please try not to worry too much.’

‘You know you’re asking the impossible of your mother.’ Her father joined them. ‘Are you taking your car?’

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