Defiant Heart (43 page)

The general had just received a follow up call from Colonel Halliday. The colonel reported that Jon’s body had been recovered by the Germans from a wooded area to the west of Bremen. Apparently, Jon had, in fact, been one of the crewmen who’d bailed out of the damaged plane, but he had not survived, his neck having been broken in the fall. The information had been passed along through the Red Cross.

There was a tap at the general’s office door, and Mary entered, carrying the envelope he’d given her earlier. She had a momentary look of confusion when she saw Penny. Then her eyes went wide, and the color drained from her face.

“Oh, no,” Mary said. “Oh, God, no.”

Mary looked as though she might fall, but Penny moved quickly. She reached out and put her arms around Mary, pulling her close.

“No, no, no,” Mary said, her voice muffled against Penny’s blouse. Then Mary drew in a large breath, and she was suddenly wracked with immense sobs. Penny held Mary tightly. She had a stoic look on her face, though the general could see her eyes were moist, and there was a distance to them.

The general glanced away, a feeling of helplessness gnawing at him. He’d faced his share of grief. He’d lost a sister to cancer ten years earlier, and, as a young infantry officer in the first world war, he’d had a number of men under his command killed or badly wounded. Yet, for some reason, this hurt in a way he couldn’t have possibly imagined.

#

“That one over there,” Jon said, pointing.

“By the maintenance shed?” Tommie asked.

Jon nodded. “Yes. Both nights it’s been the last one out. It’s in shadow for the most part. And, because it’s out of the way, the other ground crew won’t have any reason to walk past the spot after the planes have left.”

Tommie thought for a moment. “Do we know that plane’s scheduled to sortie tonight?”

“It’s loaded with ammunition and fuel. They finished up a little while ago. Don’t see why it wouldn’t be. And,” Jon shrugged, “if it’s not, we take it anyway.”

Tommie nodded. “All right,” he said, starting to back up. “Let’s tell the others.”

Jon put a hand on Tommie’s sleeve. “You sure you can fly that thing?”

Tommie gave Jon a grin. “Piece o’ cake.”

They half-crawled, half-slid down the embankment and rejoined Shim and Abernathy, where they huddled together to review the plan.

After they’d discovered the airfield on Sunday night, the four of them had worked their way south, then west to a spot located along the edge of the German base, across the main runway from the maintenance and personnel facilities. The ridge they’d been on when they first came upon the field became steeper the further they traveled and eventually fell off into a small valley through which ran a stream swollen with winter runoff. They found an ideal hiding place in a thick copse of evergreen trees perched on the side of the slope, a few yards below the crest of the ridge. Aside from a handful of animal tracks, there was no evidence the place where they were hiding was ever occupied or visited.

Perhaps because the base was situated in Germany, as opposed to occupied territory where there would be concerns regarding possible sabotage, there appeared to be little security. Or, at least that had turned out to be the case on the side of the airfield where Jon and his fellow crewmates were hiding. As far as they’d been able to tell, the precautions the Germans had taken to safeguard the perimeter consisted of wooden posts placed at thirty foot intervals and strung with three lines of barbed wire. The fence would keep out large animals, but not a person. They’d seen no guards and no patrols.

On Monday and Tuesday, they carefully observed the activities at the airfield, taking particular note of the procedures followed by the air and ground crews getting the fighters into the sky. On both days, the planes were fueled and armed in the late afternoon and early evening. Then a quiet descended over the field.

On Monday night, about an hour after sunset, a claxon sounded, and there was a sudden swarm of activity. Men emerged from the wooden structures at the far side of the field and sprinted toward the planes. At each aircraft, two men scrambled up into the cockpit and fired up the engines. Two ground crew members per plane stood by near the outer edge of each wing, ready to pull cords that would release the stops from under the front wheels. The planes had not taken off, however. Fifteen minutes later, there was the sound of another horn, and the crews stood down, returning to the buildings from which they’d emerged.

Around midnight, the same thing occurred, only this time, the planes taxied the short distances from their dispersed locations along the far side of the field and took off one at a time.

On Tuesday night, the claxon sounded a couple of hours after sunset, and, following the same mad scramble of personnel, the planes took off again. While Jon and Abernathy conducted a vigil from their observation spot at the top of the ridge, Tommie and Shim went reconnoitering, working their way counterclockwise around the perimeter fence to see what kind of security was present. They returned a couple hours later to report that the boundary defenses appeared to be identical on the other side. Shim had even slipped into the compound for a few minutes. When Tommie recounted that detail, Shim had, with a devilish look on his face, reached into his jacket and pulled out an enormous wrench. “I figured it might come in handy,” he announced, holding it in one hand and slapping it against the palm of his other.

They decided to make their move on Wednesday night. The plan was simple. The four of them would work their way around the perimeter to the far side, slip through the fence and hide in the shadows behind one of the wooden structures from which they’d seen men emerge during the scrambles the two nights before. They’d wait for the claxon to sound, then they’d start running and join with the others pouring out of the buildings, heading for the plane they’d selected. Their hope was that, in the darkness, no one would notice their uniforms were different.

They’d each been assigned to shadow one of the four men who crewed the targeted plane. Shim and Abernathy would take the ground crewmen. The plan was that, in the confusion, each would step up behind his man and deliver a hard blow to the back of the man’s head. Shim would wield his wrench. Abernathy had found a rock whose shape allowed him to grip it, but was big enough to get the job done.

Jon and Tommie would take the air crewmen. They’d have to use their fists. Ben’s Widowmaker was going to come in handy. If they could get to the pilot and radio operator before they boarded the plane, so much the better. Otherwise, Jon intended to grab one of the caps the ground crewmen wore, put it on his head, and climb up on the wing, announcing that there was a fire below the fuselage and the men needed to get out quickly. Once they’d gotten the men away from the plane, they’d disable them. If they couldn’t get the men to leave the plane voluntarily, they’d have to deliver the blows to the men while they were seated in the cockpit and then drag their bodies out. It would delay things and increase the chance of drawing attention from others, but it was the best plan they’d been able to devise.

The last resort was Tommie’s .45. They hoped not to have to use deadly force, but they were prepared to do so if necessary.

Although only two crewmen manned the plane they intended to steal, the aircraft had been originally designed for a crew of three. The pilot sat in the forward portion of the cockpit. Behind him was a space intended to accommodate the remaining two crewmembers. It would be a tight fit, but they’d be able to squeeze in three. Shim would take the rear seat. Jon and Abernathy would share the middle section. Since Jon might need to assist Tommie reading the German controls, Abernathy would go in first and make himself as small as possible.

Once they had control of the plane, their plan was to taxi to the end of the runway, take off as if they were heading out on the mission with the others, and, once airborne, simply turn west and slip away under cover of the darkness.

It was by no means a perfect plan. There was a very good chance they’d be caught or, worse, killed. But they’d all agreed it was worth trying. For Jon, it offered the only reasonable chance to get back to Mary, so, no matter the odds, he would take them.

As soon as the sun set, the four of them left their hiding place, and, moving in single file, they quietly followed the curve of the ridge around the perimeter of the airfield. Because there were no flight operations at the moment, the navigation and runway lights were off, so the glow that had been in the sky when they’d first discovered the base on Sunday night was not present. There was, however, an almost full moon, so they were able to pick their way easily through the trees and underbrush.

When they reached the point at which Shim had passed through the wire the previous night, they huddled together at the tree line, listening carefully for any sounds that would indicate the presence of sentries. They heard nothing. Finally, Jon and Tommie crawled forward. Tommie stood in a crouch and put his foot on the lowest of the three wires. He gripped the second wire and pulled it up, making an opening large enough to accommodate Jon. Jon had put one leg on the other side of the wire and was just swinging his body through when the silence was shattered by the sound of the claxon.

Jon froze momentarily, his heart beating rapidly. He quickly reversed himself, stepped back outside the wire, and he and Tommie scrambled back to the safety of the trees.

After a moment, Jon heard the first of the planes’ engines firing up. Soon the air around them shimmered with the roar generated by a combined force of over twenty four thousand horsepower. From where they lay, the planes were shielded from view by structures, so Jon could not tell whether they had started taxiing. He listened carefully for a variation in pitch that would indicate the first of them taking off. If they did take off, the plans for the night would be a bust, and the four of them would have to return to their hiding place to wait another day.

Several minutes passed, and there had been no change. Jon looked at Tommie, who shrugged. Suddenly, the horn blew again. Almost immediately, the sound of the engines began to diminish until, a minute later, relative quiet had returned. In the distance, Jon could hear men calling to one another, and he heard someone laugh. It took a few minutes for the voices to stop. When they did, the area was once again plunged into silence.

They waited, listening. When he was satisfied the Germans had returned to wherever it was they congregated while waiting for word to man their planes, Jon tapped Tommie on the shoulder and nodded toward the fence. Silently, Tommie crawled forward and again held the wire for Jon.

Jon slipped into the compound, followed in rapid succession by Abernathy and then Shim, who held the wire for Tommie. They moved quickly to the rear of the nearest building, which they had concluded was some sort of storage facility. Led by Shim, who’d previously been there, they crept along the back wall until they came to a gap between it and the next structure. To reach the building beyond, they would need to cross approximately fifteen yards of open space that was, in comparison to the shadow in which they now crouched, brightly illuminated by the moon. No one spoke. They’d worked out the details in advance.

Jon and Tommie stood upright, and, as casually as they could manage, they walked across the gap between the buildings, Jon holding his breath the entire way. When they reached the other side, they melted into the shadow behind the building and listened intently. All seemed to be quiet. Two minutes after they’d made the crossing, Shim and Abernathy came strolling over. Again, they listened for any sound that would indicate trouble, and, again, they detected nothing.

The next three buildings were close together, so they did not need to leave the shadows. However, these buildings were either living or working quarters. They had no idea whether the first two were currently occupied. But, the last one they knew for sure contained several men, as it was one of the structures from which members of the crews would emerge if the signal again sounded. Their intent was to wait behind that building.

Crouching to stay below the windowsills, they moved as silently as possible along the rear wall of the first building, Shim still in the lead, followed by Abernathy and Tommie. Jon brought up the rear. When they came to the far end, they squatted. Shim leaned out and peered around the corner. He then rose, and the others followed suit, preparing to step across to the next building.

Suddenly, a voice behind them said, in German, “Stop where you are and put your hands up.”

Jon turned and saw a German soldier with a rifle pointed at them. The German stood just outside the shadow cast by the building. In the moonlight, the weapon in his hand looked enormous.

Jon straightened, and, in German, he said, “Excellent.” The soldier shifted his rifle so that it was trained on Jon’s chest. Jon turned his head toward the other three and said, still speaking in German, “I told you those reports were exaggerated.” He looked back at the sentry and said, “We are here testing the security. My name is Meyer. I am with the Gestapo.”

At the mention of the feared secret police, Jon saw the barrel of the gun waver. Smiling, Jon casually reached out his right hand and, as he did, said, “I would like to shake your hand soldier.” Fearing at any moment his chest would be torn open by a bullet, Jon extended his arm to its fullest length, and he leaned forward. When his hand reached the point at which it was even with the tip of the barrel, Jon jerked it up and to the right, catching the end of the barrel in the crook formed by his thumb and forefinger and shoving it up and away.

The rifle discharged with a thunderous crack, and Jon was certain he felt the rush of the bullet as it passed by his ear.

Tommie moved the instant Jon’s hand shot up. He took two steps and, throwing the weight of his entire body behind the punch, drove his fist into the German’s jaw. The soldier crumpled into a heap.

“Let’s go now,” Jon shouted. The words were barely out of his mouth when the others were up and running.