The White Knight (33 page)

“What?”

“Luke's going out to get a Christmas tree today, and he told me I could go with him. It'll be just him and me.”

“That'll be wonderful.”

“He said I could pick out the tree.”

“You be sure to choose a good one.”

“I will, but you know what? I just love Luke!”

Joelle reached over and pinched the young girl's earlobe. “So do I, honey.” She grinned. “So do I.”

****

The living room was a pile of papers on Christmas morning. The girls had ripped into their presents, throwing the wrappings aside as they expressed their delight at their gifts.

“Christmas sure is a lot of hard work—buying all these presents and wrapping them.”

“Oh you,” Joelle said. “I did ninety percent of it.”

“But I had all the mental anguish.” Luke grinned at her.

The girls were examining their presents and chatting excitedly about what they had received. The foundation board had instructed Luke and Joelle to spend part of their first check on the girls, for they had predicted that some of the girls wouldn't be getting anything from their own families. Twelve girls were living in the house now, and that was the upper limit of what the old house could hold. There were plans afoot to erect a new building not only for the boys but one for the girls as well. They were hoping for a new facility that could house as many as fifty girls if necessary.

“It's been a wonderful Christmas,” Luke said. “Best I can remember. If you'll stay right here for a minute, I've got one more surprise for you.”

The girls all turned to look at him and Joelle.

“What kind of a surprise?” Joelle asked.

“You wait right here. Nobody move until I get back.”

As soon as Luke left the room, the girls began peppering Joelle with questions. “Do you know what it's going to be, Joelle?” Sunny demanded.

“I have no idea. You know as much as I do.”

They speculated on the nature of the surprise until they heard Luke starting down the stairs. Joelle's eyes opened wide as Luke appeared.

He was wearing the uniform of a captain in the Army Air Force. He stood there tall and straight and proud, and his eyes met with Joelle's. “I've been trying to come up with a way to tell you about this, but I thought this might be the best way.”

The girls were all crying out and jumping up as they ran to Luke. He was surrounded by the entire group, trying to answer their questions, and finally he pulled himself loose and went over to stand beside Joelle. “I just didn't know how to tell you.”

“Will you be leaving soon?” Joelle asked, knowing the answer.

“I'm afraid it won't be too long.”

Joelle wanted to protest, but she knew what she had to do. “I'm proud of you, Luke! You'll be the pride of the air force!”

****

The girls were all in bed, and Joelle sat with Luke in front of the fireplace. He had pulled the couch around so they faced it, and now he got up and poked at the logs. They shifted and sent swirling sparks up the chimney. Putting the poker back, he came back to sit beside her. He put his arms around her and after a moment of silence said, “You're not angry with me, are you?”

“Of course not.”

“That was what I went to Mount Pinnacle for, to think about this. I got to thinking about my life, how little I'd done.”

“That's not true.”

“Well, it seemed like it to me. Then I started thinking about how the air force is going to need experienced pilots,
especially those who've been in combat. So I went to Little Rock and talked to Major Crandall, the enlistment officer, told him about my experience in the Spanish Civil War.”

“What did he say?”

“He called Washington and talked to some general about my experience. They gave me a commission, and my job will be to train a squadron of pilots, all young fellows who have never seen any combat, of course.”

“You'll do a wonderful job, Luke.”

The two sat there talking for a long time, and finally Joelle turned, her eyes luminous. “I guess I have to tell you I'm afraid, Luke. War's a terrible thing.”

Luke nodded and pulled her closer. “It is, but I suppose all over America, wives and mothers and sisters are worried about their men going off to war. I'm sorry to do this to you, Joelle, but I feel I have to go.”

She put her arms around his neck, her head on his chest. “Promise me you'll come back to me.”

“You know I will, sweetheart.”

Joelle pulled back and looked into his face. Something danced in her eyes, and she said, “I have a present for you.”

“You've already given me a present.”

“This is different.”

“All right, give it to me, then.”

Joelle's face lit up, and her lips parted with a delighted smile. “I can't give it to you until July or maybe August.”

Luke stared at her with a puzzled look, but then suddenly his eyes flew open wide. “Does that mean what I think it means?”

“Yes. We're going to have a baby.”

Luke gave a delighted cry. “I promise you one thing. When my son is born, I'll be here for that.”

“Maybe it'll be a girl.”

“So much the better.” He kissed her then and held her tighter. “Thanks for the present, darling!”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

The Knights Fly Again

The ancient transport groaned at the seams as it nudged into the dock at Portsmouth. Luke had heard about the fog in England, and here was the reality. It was August 3, 1942, and Captain Luke Winslow stood in the bow beside his second-in-command, Lieutenant Hal Harkness.

Harkness was a highly excitable young man, one of the best pilots Luke had ever flown with and one that had the complete and utter confidence of the men in Wolf Squadron.

Harkness moved impatiently. “It seems like ten years since we met at Walnut Ridge to organize the squadron,” he said.

“Well, we made it, Hal.”

“There were times I didn't think we were going to. This last year has been hard.”

Indeed, the year had been hard. Luke had gained the reputation of being a tough man, but he had known that these young men the government had put under his command needed toughness. They would be facing some of the most skilled pilots in the world in the Luftwaffe, and Luke was determined that they would be able to hold their own.

The months had passed slowly, and only the birth of their son, whom Luke and Joelle had named Peter after Luke's father, had broken the routine. Joelle had managed to come and stay with him at the training station, and they had been fortunate that Ted and Irene Taylor had once again agreed to stay at the Haven during Joelle's absence.

The training had been demanding, and more than
three-fourths of the men had failed to make it through. More than Luke liked to think about had been killed in training accidents. At times it seemed that the training program was as dangerous as combat itself, but raw young men jockeying P=-47s made mistakes, and these mistakes were sometimes fatal.

“Can't see a thing in this fog,” Hal commented. “I wonder how in the world we're gonna fly in it.”

“We'll find out, Hal.”

He laughed. “We managed to get here in one piece, but you earned the reputation of being the meanest squadron leader in the whole air corps. For a while there, some of the men hated you.”

“I realize not everyone likes me. But if I didn't push them in training, they would never be prepared for what they're gonna be facing now that we're finally here.”

The two men stood at the rail watching the sailors perform their duties. “If it wasn't for little Pete and Joelle, I don't know how I would have made it through these past several months.”

“I know you're going to miss them. I'm glad I'm not married. I've got big plans about making the women of England happy.”

“I'm not sure how much time you're going to have for women, Hal. You're going to have plenty to do.”

“That's right. I'll be taking on the Luftwaffe. I'm awfully glad I'm not going to have to fight you up there. You're the best pilot in the service.”

“I hope General Eaker thinks so.”

“I hear he's about as hard-nosed as you are.”

“He had to be. They sent him over here last February with nothing. No airfields, no planes, and he's supposed to create the Eighth Air Force. I don't think anybody but Eaker could have done the job. Well, we better get our things ready,” Luke said, and turning, he went belowdecks to make preparations.

****

Ira Eaker rose when Luke and Hal walked into his office. Coming over, he saluted the two and then offered his hand. “You'll never know how glad I am to see you boys,” he said with excitement.

“We're glad to be here, General. This is Hal Harkness, my second-in-command, a hot pilot if there ever was one.”

“Excellent. We need all the hot pilots we can get over here.”

“When will we be going out on a mission, General?” Harkness asked eagerly.

“We don't have the American planes here, but they're on the way. It'll be September.”

“What are we going to do until then, General Eaker?” Luke asked.

“Don't worry. You'll be busy. I'm assigning the squadron to fly cover for the English bombers.”

“When will we start flying?”

“When can you start?”

“As soon as they get the airplanes uncrated and put together. A week maybe.”

“The sooner the better.”

“What are the missions like?” Hal asked, bubbling with curiosity.

“Well, they're not perfect. None of our planes have the range to escort the bombers all the way to target. The Spitfires can go halfway, but then they have to turn back before they run out of fuel. From then on the bombers are on their own. They've been taking a terrible beating.”

“The British bomb at night, don't they?”

“Yes, they do. They tried it at daytime and said that losses were too great. As a matter of fact”—he grinned ruefully—”they think I'm crazy for wanting to bomb in the daylight. They say it'll never work.” He gave Luke a studied look. “I've read a lot about you, Captain Winslow. I understand you've taken a number of 109s down.”

“That's true, but I hear they've improved them since I was last in combat.”

“How good are the German pilots?” Hal asked.

Eaker frowned. “They're plenty good.” He gave Luke a pointed look. “I hope you haven't lost your touch.”

“Oh, he hasn't, General,” Hal spoke up eagerly. “He's the hottest pilot—”

“That's enough, Lieutenant,” Luke said. “General, I've been reading the newspapers. There's an old acquaintance I'd like to look up. Colonel Erich Ritter.”

“You know Ritter?”

“He was with the Condor Legion in Spain. As a matter of fact, I shot him down.”

“Well, apparently you didn't kill him. Maybe you could do a better job this time. He's their leading ace, you know, and his pilots are among the most feared in the Luftwaffe.”

“I'll be looking for him.”

“The pilots all report he's easy enough to find. He flies a 109 painted black with a knight fighting a dragon on the cowling.”

“That's exactly what he did in Spain. General, with your permission, I'd like to decorate my plane a bit.”

“What kind of decoration?”

“I'd like to have it painted white with a knight on the side. That was like the one I flew in Spain. Of course, it wasn't a P=-47.”

“Why do you want to do that? You want Ritter to find you?”

“No, sir. I want to find
him.
”

“Good! You paint that plane any way you want to.” Eaker suddenly snapped his fingers. “I know what. We'll publicize this thing. I'll have it put in the papers. Maybe we'll even get a mention on the radio.”

“You think they read our papers?”

“You bet your boots they do! And they must have all kinds of people over here. Lord Haw-Haw comes on the radio and tells us stuff about our base I don't know myself. Why, yesterday he said that the clock in the officers' bar was five minutes slow, and you know what? It was!”

“Who would have guessed.”

“Anyway, you two get to it. Get those planes ready to go, and as soon as they are, you can fly cover for the Brits.”

****

Erich Ritter had just gotten back from leave. He was on his way to General Hoffmann's office to report for duty when he saw planes coming in from a mission. He knew his own squadron had been out, and he assumed they were returning. He counted the planes and saw that it was not a full squadron. “The boys must have had some losses,” he muttered.

He waited until he saw his second-in-command, Wolfgang Began, approaching him.

Began saluted Ritter and muttered, “Glad to see you back, Colonel.”

“Was it a bad mission, Began?”

“The worst!”

“What happened?”

“We were just beginning the attack when all of a sudden a flight of P-47s dropped out of nowhere. They came right out of the sun. Three of our boys went down on their first pass and then it was just a dogfight. It was like a swarm of wasps. Those 47s are tough airplanes. A few bullets won't stop them. They just keep coming at you. They're
devils,
sir!”

“How many did we lose?”

“Six in all. It was that squadron leader, the white one with the knight painted on his ship. He got Willie with one burst, and then he got on Franz's tail. Franz couldn't shake him off. That White Knight shot him all to pieces. Poor Franz,” Began said, shaking his head and plainly disturbed. “He didn't have a chance. His plane burst into a fireball.”

“What did you do then?”

“I called the squadron back. We were outnumbered for once, and that demon in the white plane—I had to get away from him!”