Dawson's Down! Read online

  Dawson’s Down!

  By Don Patterson

  Illustrated by Sonny Schug/Studio West

  Edited by Mary Parenteau

  Production by Kline/Phoenix Advertising Graphics

  © 2000, 2010 Hindsight Limited

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be produced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts in reviews.

  Published in Minneapolis, MN by Rising Star Studios, LLC.

  Picture Credits Many thanks to the following organizations for giving permission to reprint illustrations and text used in the “In Hindsight” section of this book.

  Special thanks to Ian Huntley for research and text.

  Courtesy Ian Huntley, Aerocam

  Seaplanes of the World, O.G. Publishing, 1997

  Courtesy Ian Huntley, Aerocam

  Publisher's Cataloging-In-Publication Data

  (Prepared by The Donohue Group, Inc.)

  Patterson, Don, 1961-

  Dawson's down! / by Don Patterson ; illustrated by Sonny Schug.

  p. : col. ill. ; cm. -- (Tales of the RAF ; bk. 4)

  Originally published in 2000 by Hindsight Ltd.

  Summary: A bad dream causes twelve year old Harry Winslow to spend the night tossing and turning in his bed. Unfortunately, the next day becomes the real nightmare. Harry's friend, Erin, learns her father is missing in action. At the same time, Squadron Leader Captain Dawson is forced to bail out over the English Channel

  Interest age level: 007-010.

  ISBN: 978-1-936770-15-1 (epub)

  1. Great Britain. Royal Air Force--Juvenile fiction. 2. Fighter pilots--Great Britain--Juvenile fiction. 3. World War, 1939-1945--Children--Great Britain--Juvenile fiction. 4. Spitfire (Fighter planes)-Juvenile fiction. 5. Great Britain. Royal Air Force--Fiction. 6. Fighter pilots--Great Britain--Fiction. 7. World War, 1939-1945--Children--Great Britain--Fiction. 8. Spitfire (Fighter planes)--Fiction. I. Schug, Sonny. II. Title. III. Series: Patterson, Don, 1961- Tales of the RAF ; bk. 4.

  PZ7.P3884 Daw 2010

  [Fic] 2009942883

  To my wife, Joan.

  She reminds us it's nice

  to be important, but it's

  more important to be nice.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  "DAWSON'S DOWN!"

  1 A BAD DREAM

  2 A FRIEND IN NEED

  3 THE START OF A BAD DAY

  4 DANGEROUS ON THE GROUND

  5 ALL LEAVES ARE CANCELED

  6 THE SCRAMBLE ALARM

  7 INTERCEPT

  8 "DAWSON'S DOWN!"

  9 THE SQUADRON RETURNS

  10 THE SACRIFICE

  11 THE LIFE RAFT

  12 CALL FOR HELP

  13 HELPING HANDS

  14 THE HOMECOMING

  IN HINDSIGHT

  CHAPTER ONE

  A BAD DREAM

  Filtering through the darkness, pale moonlight cast down on the silent farms and fields of Hampton County. While most of the English countryside slept through the quiet spring night, twelve year old Harry Winslow stirred in his bed. Awakened by a frightening nightmare, Harry tossed and turned, unable to fall back to sleep. Impatiently, the young boy waited for morning to come.

  Finally, Harry noticed his room begin to brighten. Outside he heard roosters crow and a growing chorus of chirping songbirds. When sunlight spilled through his window, Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Night was over and a new day had arrived.

  Short of sleep, Harry slowly climbed out from under his warm blankets and sat up on the edge of his bed. He rubbed his tired eyes and thought about his nightmare. Even though the ominous dream had been vivid enough to keep him up most the night, Harry could hardly make sense of it. Yet, convinced the nightmare was warning him about something, he tried his best to remember every detail.

  But, Harry's thoughts shifted to breakfast when his house filled with the inviting smell of baked bread. Hungry from a restless night, he quickly reached for his clothes to get dressed. Still buttoning his shirt, Harry stumbled down the stairs and stepped into the kitchen.

  Standing at the stove, Harry's mother was busy frying eggs. On the countertop next to her lay a plate stacked with steaming sausages and browned toast. Harry's empty stomach rumbled. Thankfully the kitchen table was already set, waiting for him.

  "Good morning, little mister," Mrs. Winslow greeted Harry in a cheerful voice.

  "Morning, Mom," Harry yawned while sitting down at the table.

  Harry's mother couldn't help notice her son's drowsy tone and asked, "Did you sleep well, love?"

  "No, I didn't," Harry complained. "I had the oddest nightmare about Captain Dawson. In my dream he was a lamb lost in the field. Then a wolf pounced and grabbed him by the throat. I wanted to help, but I didn't know what to do. Luckily, the wolf let him go, but it frightened me so much, I woke up. After that, I couldn't get back to sleep." Harry scratched his head and mumbled, "I wish Dad was home, he could tell me what it all means."

  Finished at the stove, Mrs. Winslow filled a plate with eggs and sausages and set it in front of Harry. Trying to console her son, she replied, "It was just a bad dream, sweetheart. I think maybe you've been spending too much time with Captain Dawson and the rest of your pilots on the airfield."

  Hampton Airfield bordered the Winslow farm. Fascinated by the Royal Air Force squadron stationed there, Harry was a frequent visitor to the base. The Squadron Leader, Captain Dawson, and the rest of the pilots had become quite important to the young boy.

  Harry bit into his food and thought about his mother's remark. He knew she didn't always approve of the time he spent around the airfield. But what did a nightmare about lambs and wolves have to do with pilots and fighter planes? In Harry's mind, Hampton Airfield wasn't about nightmares, it stood for things like friendship, courage and honor.

  Trying to avoid an argument, Harry quickly changed the subject. "Where's Sis?" he asked.

  "Susan left for the airfield already," Mrs. Winslow sighed. "She's been spending a lot of time there lately. Either Colonel Harrison is working her too hard, or she's found something quite interesting."

  Harry's older sister, Susan, worked at Hampton Airfield as Colonel Harrison's secretary. She enjoyed helping the Colonel administer the daily operation of the airbase, but it also gave her an opportunity to keep an eye on Harry.

  At the mention of Hampton Airfield, Harry noticed the morning sunshine pouring through the kitchen window. The day was bright and clear. With good weather he knew the pilots would soon be scrambling to their fighter planes, ready to defend England.

  Eager to join his RAF friends at the airfield, Harry hurried with his breakfast. A familiar sight, Mrs. Winslow shook her head while watching her son race through his food.

  Hoping to slow him down, his mother divulged, "Harry, love, I have a surprise. I've been waiting for the right time to give it to you. Maybe it will help you forget about that nightmare you had."

  Excited, Harry quickly swallowed and asked, "What is it, Mom?"

  Mrs. Winslow stepped to the cupboard, pulled out a box, and handed it to Harry. Harry ripped open the lid. When he looked inside, his eyes grew wide as saucers. Reaching in, he slowly pulled a white silk aviator's scarf from the box. Mrs. Winslow had sewn it by hand, and her work was exceptional.

  "Mother, this is fantastic! No, it's magnificent! Thank you!" Harry shouted while wrapping the soft scarf around his neck.

  Mrs. Winslow smiled at the heartfelt compliment from her son. "I'm glad you like it, dear. I made one for your pilot friend, Captain Dawson, too. After all, he's practically family. I hope it
helps keep him warm when he is flying. You will give it to him for me, won't you?"

  "Of course I will," Harry assured her. "He'll love his as much as I love mine."

  Harry enjoyed the extra attention from his mother. The present she made was wonderful and indeed helped him forget his bad dream. Even better, thanks to her, he had something special to give Captain Dawson.

  Harry gulped the very last of his breakfast and asked, "When I finish my chores can..."

  "Yes, love, you can," Mrs. Winslow interrupted. "When you finish your chores you can go see your pilots."

  CHAPTER TWO

  A FRIEND IN NEED

  Outside in the bright sunshine, Harry rushed to make quick work of his morning chores. Although most of his tasks around the farm were routine, he considered it his duty to make sure everything was done right. Harry's mother depended on him, and he knew it was important to do his best.

  Caring for the small animals was Harry's favorite job. Every morning he fed the goats and lambs, and filled their trough with fresh drinking water. Then he took them out to pasture. The rest of the day, the ever-hungry animals followed Harry wherever they could, hoping for an extra handout.

  Harry felt proud to be the seventh generation of Winslows to live in the small brick house and tend the land that was the Winslow farm. When he was younger, his father loved to tell him stories about their ancestors. His father, and his father's father as well as all the other generations had made their way in the world by raising sheep and tilling the very same soil.

  Over the years, things had remained much the same for the people living in the countryside of Hampton County. That is, until war flared. Since late 1939, Harry's quiet life and everyone else's had changed. During that autumn, Harry's father left for London to help in the British government's Intelligence Service. And, the lush meadow where Harry and his father used to graze spring lambs was made into a landing strip for Royal Air Force fighter planes.

  Out of place against the background of farm fields, the cluster of hangers and buildings of Hampton Airfield became a fixture in the landscape. Although the hazards of having an airbase nearby could be disquieting to the villagers, it was a time of war, and sacrifices were made by all. The RAF pilots risked their lives to protect their country. In return, the people of Hampton County defied the danger and tried to help the brave airmen anyway they could.

  To young Harry Winslow, the pilots of Hampton's 14th Squadron were special. The men welcomed him into their tight knit fraternity of fighter pilots, and over time, Harry had proven himself worthy of their friendship. With his father away, they helped fill an emptiness in his heart.

  Harry rushed through all his morning chores. Finished, he brushed the dust from his worn blue jacket, and straightened the ends of his new silk aviator's scarf. Carefully folding the scarf for Captain Dawson into a neat square, Harry started down the path leading to the airbase, excited to deliver the gift.

  When Harry neared the bushy hedgerow fence that separated the Winslow farm from Hampton Airfield, he noticed someone sitting at the top of a small hill. The grassy knoll was Harry's favorite spot. Overlooking the hangers and airplanes parked out on the hardstand, it was a place where he often took refuge. As Harry came closer, he recognized the person was his friend, Erin Bentley.

  Ten year old Erin and her brother, Stuart, were Harry's best friends. Harry and Stuart were the same age and constant companions. But, Erin was the one who shared Harry's passion for the RAF pilots and planes. Settled in the long grass, Erin stared at the airfield.

  "Hello, Erin," Harry called, and ran up the hill to join her.

  Erin timidly waved, and replied softly, "Hello."

  Harry sat down beside her. Almost instantly he could tell something was bothering Erin.

  Worried about his friend, Harry tried to make conversation.

  "Where's Stuart?" Harry asked, pretending to be cheerful.

  "He's off visiting our grandparents in Manchester for the week," Erin explained. "Stuart gets a chance to be with Gram and Grampa for a while, and I get a few days alone with mother."

  "That's great for both of you," Harry proclaimed. "A holiday, of sorts."

  Erin just nodded her head and kept staring at the airfield.

  After a long moment, she continued, "Mother and I had such a grand time planned. But, this morning she received word that father has been missing in action for three days. I've never seen her this worried before."

  Mr. Bentley was a sergeant in the British Army stationed in North Africa. He had left his quiet life in Hampton County about the same time as Harry's father.

  Although Harry knew first hand about the battle to defend his own country, all he knew about the war in the rest of the world was what he read in newspapers or heard on the radio.

  Suddenly, now that his closest friend's father was missing on a continent far away, the reality of how the war affected everyone, everywhere, set in. It made Harry think of his own father and how much he missed him.

  Harry nervously grabbed at the ends of his new silk scarf while searching for the right thing to say. Collecting his thoughts, he tried his best to console Erin.

  "I'm sure your father is fine. He probably just got separated from his unit. Things will work out. They'll find him soon."

  Erin shyly stared at the ground and smiled at Harry's reassuring words. Still, Erin was as concerned as her mother. Anxiously brushing the hair from her face, she looked at Harry. Then she noticed the silk scarf wrapped around his neck.

  "Oh Harry, that's beautiful," she remarked. "Where did you get it?"

  Harry smiled proudly. "It's an aviator's scarf. My mother made it for me. And, she made one for Captain Dawson. I was on my way to the airfield to give it to him."

  Erin reached to feel the fabric. Running it through her fingers she giggled, "It's wonderful. Where did your mother get the silk to make it?"

  Harry was stumped, he didn't know. Unable to answer, he just shook his head. All the while Erin continued to feel the material. Realizing how much she admired the scarf, Harry pulled it from his neck and handed her the length of white silk.

  "Here," Harry offered, "try it on."

  Erin wrapped the scarf around her neck. She rubbed the smooth, soft silk on her cheeks and held it up to the sun. Harry was glad to see the silken scarf bring a little cheer to his friend in her time of need.

  "Keep it," Harry said.

  Erin stopped and looked at Harry. "I can't keep this. It's too nice. Besides, your mother made it for you."

  Holding the other scarf for Captain Dawson in his hand, Harry considered the situation. Thinking aloud, he explained, "My mother made these to help. That's what they're for. I think she would be happy to know you have it."

  Before Erin could say anything else, her mother's voice echoed over the fields. Quickly throwing her arms around Harry, she hugged him tight. Then, Erin jumped up and ran off, calling, "My mom needs me, Harry. I'll see you later."

  Harry watched Erin run to her mother. Erin and her brother, Stuart, were his closest friends. The three children relied on each other, especially in the worst of times. For years they had shared everything. This time, he shared her concern. Harry wished there was something he could do to help.

  As Erin and her mother headed home, Harry continued on his way to the airfield. Slipping through the small gap in the hedgerow, he ran out to the hardstand looking for Captain Dawson. Harry could hardly wait to deliver his mother's present.

  CHAPTER THREE

  THE START OF A BAD DAY

  Bright morning sunshine squeezed through the shuttered windows in the officer's quarters. Annoyed by the light, Captain Dawson rolled over in his bed and buried his head under the pillow. Still tired after a restless night, he had just fallen asleep when a loud knock rattled the door.

  "Good morning Captains!" the base clerk called from outside. "Mission briefing in half an hour, at o'seven hundred."

  Awakened by the pounding, Dawson's roommate, Captain Simms, je
rked his legs out from under the sheets and sat up on the side of his bed. Rested and ready to start the day, Simms shouted back to the clerk, "Thank you, Corporal, I got it. Mission briefing at o'seven hundred!"

  Standing up from his bed, Captain Simms clenched his fists and stretched his arms wide. On the other side of the room he noticed Captain Dawson, still lying in his bunk.

  "Come on Ted," Simms called. "Let's get some breakfast before the briefing."

  Dawson tossed in his bunk, and snapped back from under his pillow, "Go away. Let me sleep for ten more minutes."

  "It's time to get cracking!" Simms urged his friend. "Besides, the skies are clear out there. We might have to scramble our planes in ten minutes. I want to get breakfast before it's too late."

  Simms punctuated his message by throwing a pillow at Dawson and rocking his bunk.

  "Okay Andy, you win," Captain Dawson complied in a weary voice. "There's no need to get nasty."

  Rolling over in his bed, Dawson tossed the pillow back to Simms. Slowly, the tired squadron leader slipped out from under his blankets and reached for his flight suit.

  "I had the oddest dream last night," Dawson complained. "I couldn't get any sleep at all."

  "What happened in this strange dream of yours?" Simms asked.

  Dawson rubbed his eyes and started to tell the story. "I'm a goat..., no wait, actually I'm a lamb. Anyway, I get separated from the rest of the flock. Then a wolf grabs me in his clutches. Right when I think I'm sunk, the wolf lets me go." Dawson started scratching his head, and then muttered, "On top of that, I think Harry Winslow was there, too."

  Simms thumbed his chin and stared at Dawson for a moment. "The Winslow boy was in your nightmare?" Simms brayed. "I think maybe you've been spending too much time with the lad."

  "Bah," Dawson scoffed, "it was just a ropey dream."

  Putting his hands on his hips, Simms declared, "A hot breakfast is what you need. It will do wonders for your disposition."