Scramble! Read online

  Sod and mud tossed into the air when the wheels of Captain Dawson's Hurricane touched the airfield, still soggy from three days of rain. Once on the ground, Dawson throttled up his engine to taxi to the end of the hardstand and lined up with the rest of the squadron. From his cockpit, he could see the ground crews rushing to refuel and rearm the fighter planes. Within minutes of landing, the squadron would be prepared to scramble again to intercept a new wave of enemy aircraft.

  However, looking up at the gray sky around him, Dawson was confident that this would probably be the last scramble of the day for his pilots.

  Captain Dawson threw back the canopy of his plane and proceeded to climb onto the wing and jump to the ground. No sooner had his feet settled into the wet soil than his flight mechanic, Sergeant Thomas Pendleton was there to meet him.

  Sergeant Pendleton greeted Dawson with a pat on the back and in a hearty voice shouted, "Welcome home, sir!"

  Dawson responded with merely a nod of his head. Sensing the Captain's dark mood, Pendleton cut short any more conversation and began his customary examination of what he preferred to call "his" Hurricane. It wasn't long before the stocky Sergeant discovered the damage inflicted by the German Me 109s.

  "Looking at these holes, I can see it was a wild one today for sure," Pendleton started. "But, with all due respect, Captain, I will have to ask you to take better care of my airplane!"

  "I lost two men out there while I was taking care of your blasted airplane!" Dawson snapped at Pendleton's all too familiar sarcastic remark.

  Dawson stormed away from the Hurricane, then stopped, and looked back. For just a moment, he watched Pendleton stick his fingers in and out of some of the bullet holes that pierced the airplane. Noticing how close the dotted line of holes came to the cockpit, Dawson simply shook his head, and went off to call Colonel Harrison for further orders.

  Standing by the field telephone was Harry Winslow. Harry was allowed on the base as long as he stayed out of the way of the men and safely back from the dangerous airplanes. Day after day, Harry would chat with the brave pilots while they waited to scramble to their planes. Then he faithfully watched for them to return. His love of the men and awe of the fighter planes they flew seemed to keep him on the base almost as much as the pilots. When Dawson reached the phone, Harry couldn't wait to ask him about the mission.

  "Did you shoot any..." Harry began to ask.

  Abruptly stopping Harry in mid sentence Captain Dawson barked at the twelve year old Winslow boy, "Blast it, Harry, you could get killed out here. Go home!"

  Responding to Dawson's command, a frightened and disappointed Harry Winslow shrank back, and ran for the hedgerow fence at the end of the hardstand. Choking back tears, Harry's slight frame slipped through the small gap in the hedge and back to the Winslow side.

  Captain Dawson grabbed the field telephone to call Colonel Harrison. While waiting for the Colonel to answer, he watched Harry run along the path that led back to the Winslow house.

  Gathering behind the line of Hurricanes on the hardstand, the remaining pilots of the 14th Fighter Squadron awaited their new orders. If the Germans continued sending flights of bombers, the tired pilots would immediately scramble back into the air.

  Attempting to relieve the tension, Captain Simms commented, "Relax gentlemen, the weather will stop the Germans before we have to. Besides, look at Ted. If Headquarters needed us to scramble again, he would be off the phone by now."

  Simms and the other men could see Dawson still talking on the field telephone. Dawson's conversation with Colonel Harrison would either send them back to the sky, or back to their quarters. They all watched as Dawson nodded his head and made some gestures with his free hand. Everyone could read Dawson's lips as he finished the conversation with, "Yes sir!" and slammed down the phone. The nine pilots rose to their feet and gathered in a tight circle when Captain Dawson approached. Dawson, seeing the impatience in his pilots' eyes, lengthened his stride to meet the anxious men that much quicker.

  Holding his hands up, Dawson cut the tension by quickly announcing to the pilots, "Quarters lads! There's more rain gathering, and we're ordered to stand down."

  A wave of relief washed over the group. Together, the ten pilots turned to leave the field and let the mechanics make the necessary repairs to their Hawker Hurricanes. By tomorrow, all ten planes, plus two reserve fighters, needed to be combat ready.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  THE BRIEFING ROOM

  After every mission, the pilots would meet in the briefing room of the operations building to review the day's events. Today, while the other pilots discussed the details of the flight and the ensuing battle with the intelligence officers, Captain Dawson impatiently waited to hear word of the two pilots downed during the scuffle.

  "Ted," Colonel Harrison called to Captain Dawson, "clever move coming up through the middle of the formation like that."

  "Thank you, Colonel." replied Dawson in a disinterested tone. "We were running out of time as they approached London. It was the only thing I could think of to push them off course a bit."

  Colonel Harrison shook his head and went on, "A bit, Ted? You pushed them twelve miles to the north. The most those bombers hit was a bale of hay and an abandoned ox cart. Overall, good show, gentlemen. Good show indeed!"

  Having received all the information he needed, Colonel Harrison closed his notebook and got up from his chair. "It looks like we'll be standing down for some time with this new storm." Harrison then leaned over and quietly said to Dawson in a reassuring tone, "We'll hear about Hyatt and Mathews soon enough."

  Captain Dawson looked at the Colonel and nodded his head.

  Making his way to the door, Harrison called to the pilots, "Rest as best you can, there's surely more to come." And then he closed the door behind him.

  Even though Colonel Harrison had left, the men continued discussing the battle, searching for clues to when, where and how their two fellow pilots were downed. Captain Dawson worked his way around the room to congratulate each of his men for a job well done, and provide what insight he could regarding the missing pilots. And yet, however sincere the praise was from Colonel Harrison and Captain Dawson, to the rest of the men, it felt unwarranted in the absence of Hyatt and Mathews. The RAF pilots were a family. Any harm that came to any one of them was felt by all.

  Pulling the zipper of his jacket closer to his chin, Dawson left the briefing room and stepped outside of the Operations Building into the cool, misty evening.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  WONDERFUL NEWS

  While walking back to his quarters, Dawson was stopped by a young Corporal and Colonel Harrison's secretary, Susan Winslow.

  "Captain Dawson," Susan called out as she approached him, "we have wonderful news."

  "Yes, Captain, great news," agreed the Corporal, somewhat out of breath. "I was just informed over the wire that the coast guard picked up Mathews and Hyatt."

  "Colonel Harrison immediately sent us to tell you," said Susan. Holding up a piece of paper, she continued, "Here, read it for yourself."

  Captain Dawson took the note from Susan and read the message aloud, "Lieutenants Mathews and Hyatt picked up by Coastal Command. Pilots to be returned to Hampton in the morning."

  Dawson stopped reading and looked at the other two, "Now that is great news! You know, tomorrow should be a fine day!"

  "But, Captain, tomorrow's forecast predicts continued rain and fog all day long. How can that make it a fine day?" the Corporal asked a bit confused.

  "In times like these, lad," Dawson replied in a fatherly tone, "a rainy day will definitely make it a fine day."

  The Corporal shrugged his shoulders and quietly turned away, without a clue of the tremendous weight that had just been lifted from Dawson's shoulders.

  After an awkward silence, Susan asked, "Captain Dawson, did you know this letter needed two stamps?"

  Confused, Dawson just looked at Susan.

  "I'm sorry, Captain," she explai
ned, "I meant to say, I mailed the other letters you gave to Harry, but this one needed two stamps so I couldn't send it out."

  Dawson took the letter, too distracted to pay much attention and stuffed it into his pocket. Then he turned to Susan.

  "Susan," he started, "have you seen Harry around? I need to talk to him."

  "I saw him running home just a bit ago," she replied.

  Captain Dawson stood motionless, thinking of what to do. Absorbed in the loss of his pilots, he felt ashamed for snapping at Harry when the squadron returned. Dawson desperately wanted to apologize for his sharpness and hoped Harry would be around. In fact, Dawson realized this was one of the few times Harry wasn't underfoot.

  "Is there something you want me to tell him?" Susan asked.

  "No," Dawson replied, "I really need to tell him myself."

  Susan could sense the urgency in Captain Dawson and offered, "I'm leaving to go home now. If you would like to come with me and see him, it would probably be all right."

  Dawson nodded his head. "If that's agreeable with your mother, I would like to see him now."

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  THE MYSTERY IS SOLVED

  Susan and Captain Dawson walked along the still muddy path from Hampton Airfield to the Winslow house. Evening had settled in and the cloudy gray sky grew even darker. The chill air felt damp and Susan pulled her sweater close.

  Poor at making idle conversation, Captain Dawson struggled to find something to talk about with Susan. Noticing the Winslow home silhouetted against the darkening sky, he awkwardly complimented, "Your family is following the 'blackout' rules very well by closing the shutters on your windows."

  Susan was amazed at the Captain's shyness, in stunning contrast to his manner as a fighter pilot. "Yes, thank you," she replied. "It's important for everyone's safety."

  Reaching the house and stepping inside, Susan introduced Captain Dawson to Mrs. Winslow. Mrs. Winslow was excited to have a celebrity in her home, but even more important to her was that one of Harry's beloved pilots was here to visit him. Harry talked constantly about the twelve pilots in the 14th Squadron, and Mrs. Winslow recognized the tall, good-looking Captain Dawson from Harry's descriptions.

  "Good evening, Mrs. Winslow," Dawson said politely. "I wonder if I may have a few words with Harry?"

  "I sent him to bed earlier," explained Mrs. Winslow. "He fell sick today with a fever after being out in this damp weather. But, I think a few minutes chatting with you would be all right and probably do him a world of good. Ever since he came home, he's been quite gloomy."

  The memory of the afternoon's encounter with Harry washed over Dawson and he set his mouth into a grim line. Turning toward the landing, Susan and her mother led him up the stairs to Harry's room. With a quick knock, Captain Dawson strode through the door. A pale and feverish Harry Winslow struggled to rise up in his bed. Feeling as if he were dreaming, and completely amazed at the sight of the RAF pilot in his room, Harry fought hard to say something.

  "Captain...Captain Dawson," Harry stuttered, "ahh... please... sit... please sit down."

  Dawson sat down in a small chair at the side of Harry's bed. Tired from the fever, Harry laid back and rested his damp head on the pillow. Captain Dawson looked at Harry and began his apology.

  "Harry," Dawson said in a quiet voice, "I lost two planes up there today."

  Unaware of what had happened during the mission, Harry was surprised and saddened by the news. Judging by the look on Dawson's face, Harry worried that he was the cause of even more trouble on the airfield and wondered how he would be punished. Pushing his head further into his pillow, Harry fought back tears.

  Dawson could see he unknowingly upset Harry, and quickly continued, "But the pilots, Hyatt and Mathews, are both all right. In fact, they will be back here at Hampton tomorrow morning."

  "Oh, thank goodness," Harry said through his pillow, still fighting back the tears.

  "The worst thing that happened today was that..." Dawson struggled for the words.

  Searching for the right thing to say, he surveyed Harry's room. Trying to arrange his thoughts, he rose from the chair and shuffled over to a tall dresser beside the window that overlooked Hampton Airfield. On the dresser top, Dawson saw a homemade model airplane, some toy soldiers and a dish filled with buttons.

  As his eyes scanned the items on the dresser, Dawson continued, "The worst thing was that I snapped..."

  Then he noticed that next to the dish lay a small sewing kit, a scissor and a roll of stamps. Dawson reached for the dish, but in doing so knocked it over, scattering the buttons across the floor. As he went to pick them up, he noticed they were Royal Air Force uniform buttons. Retrieving the last one from the floor beside the dresser, he saw a shoeshine kit in a small wooden box. Next to the box, carefully placed on newspaper, were a pair of regulation RAF dress shoes shined to a sparkle.

  Distracted by his observations, Dawson's train of thought was completely derailed. Instantly, Captain Dawson realized Harry Winslow was the one responsible for all the secret favors he and his men had enjoyed. Harry had shined his pilots' shoes, cleaned up their quarters, sewed his buttons, and even mailed his letters.

  "Captain, Captain Dawson?" Harry asked, "Are you all right?"

  "Yes, Harry, I'm fine," Dawson responded in a much softer tone. Finally realizing what he wanted to tell Harry, he continued, "I came here to tell you that I'm sorry I snapped at you today out on the hardstand. But as Squadron Leader it is my responsibility to make sure all my pilots are as safe as possible."

  "Yes sir, I understand," Harry returned in a disappointed voice.

  "Now currently I am missing three members of my squadron," Dawson continued in a firm voice. "Two will be returned tomorrow. The other one would be well advised to join us as soon as he can."

  A confused Harry Winslow looked up from his pillow and asked, "Who is the other pilot? You told me you only lost two."

  Dawson stepped back to Harry's bed and bent down to speak in his ear, "The other one is you, Mr. Harry Winslow. When you're well again, I expect to see you on the hardstand."

  Harry and Captain Dawson looked at each other in silence for a long moment. Harry felt a sense of surprise and relief, as well as a hint of pride, as he tried to put his thoughts together.

  Then Dawson broke the silence and said, "I need to return to the airfield, Harry. I hope to see you there soon."

  As the Captain stepped out of the room, Harry called, "Yes sir, as soon as I'm able!"

  Barely capable of controlling his excitement, Harry settled into his bed for the night. Laying there in the dark, he felt warm, and not just from the fever. For the first time, Harry realized that he was important to Captain Dawson.

  Susan and Mrs. Winslow saw Dawson to the door. He left the warm Winslow house and stepped outside into the cold, damp night. Thunder rumbled over the English countryside while he followed the path leading back to Hampton Airfield. On his way, he thought of young Harry and the things he'd seen in his bedroom. An old habit, Dawson put his hand in his coat pocket where he felt the letter Susan had given him, the letter that needed another stamp.

  Finally reaching the end of the path, Dawson stepped through the gap in the hedge, back onto Hampton Airfield. A flash of lightning arced through the sky, briefly illuminating the Hawker Hurricanes on the hardstand and the rest of the airfield. In that moment, he became aware of something else, something even greater than solving the mystery of the favors. For the first time, Captain Dawson realized just how important he was to Harry Winslow.

  IN HINDSIGHT

  In September of 1939, Germany's military used the combination of superior air power and mobile land forces to invade Poland. Their "Blitzkrieg" (lightning war) tactics proved so successful that by the following spring most of the European mainland had been conquered.

  Standing on the coastal hills of occupied France in May of 1940, German commanders spied the white cliffs of Dover reflected in the waters of the English Channel.
England would be the next target of the unstoppable German forces.

  Map of English Channel area

  Their plan for invading Britain, called Operation Sea Lion, required the destruction of the British Royal Air Force by the pilots and planes of the German Luftwaffe. After eliminating the RAF, the Luftwaffe could control the skies over England, enabling German ground forces to cross the channel and invade with little opposition.

  Preparing for an invasion that September, Germany launched their air offensive designed to crush British resistance, from hastily built bases in France. Starting in June, waves of German Heinkel and Dornier bombers, escorted by Messerschmitt fighters, flew across the English Channel to attack British shipping and military installations. England bravely defended itself by sending fighter squadrons of the Royal Air Force to stop the onslaught of German planes.

  Coastal radar station

  Britain's defense relied on two key elements. First, an advanced radar station network that could locate incoming enemy aircraft while they were still over the English Channel. And second, the ability of the RAF squadrons, strategically scattered throughout the English countryside, to "scramble" their fighters at a moment's notice in order to intercept advancing enemy planes.

  Using radar and observers, the RAF's air-raid early-warning system could detect German aircraft formations assembling over the French coast, while they were still twenty-five minutes flying time away from England. Once spotted, Fighter Command alerted their squadrons to the attack and the skilled RAF pilots would "scramble" their fighters within minutes. The British planes needed fifteen minutes to reach 20,000 feet, approximately the same altitude as the German formation. When things worked right, the RAF fighters were able to intercept the enemy several minutes before they reached the English coast.