JET LAG! (10 page)

‘Five hundred and fifty knots mein Fuhrer. Is it not fantastic?’

Messerschmitt beamed with success. The eyewitnesses were clearly impressed.

‘I have seen enough, Herr professor. Get it back on the ground.’

Hitler turned to Goering and spoke very quietly,

‘How many of these aircraft can we get before next August?

Messerschmitt interrupted and answered first, not trusting Goering:

‘We have thirty under construction in the two main hangars. If we can get the engines up from the Junkers factory, many can be ready for trial flights in during the Spring.’

Hitler gave Messerschmitt a wry look,

‘Confident of yourself, Herr Professor. To authorise thirty extra aircraft at such cost without authority is a dangerous risk – but in this case the risk has been worth it. Well done, Messerschmitt.’

Before he could reply to this rare accolade from his leader, Goering broke in.

‘Yes, mein Fuhrer, I suggested to Messerschmitt myself that we ought to back our judgement on this.’

‘Yes, Heine, I know that you wouldn’t want to claim all of the credit.’ Hitler could be mercilessly cutting, and knew that Goering was seeking unwarranted praise.

Goering’s face coloured deep red at this remark and he thought it wiser to keep his mouth shut for the time being.

Hitler turned back to the professor.

‘Well done indeed, Herr Professor. There must be the utmost secrecy for this project. No-one should leave the area until Berlin authorises it. Two ‘Geschwader’ (squadrons) of this jet aircraft will be formed and pilots will be dispatched in due course to commence training. When Poland is crushed the full military logistic machine will be dedicated to this project. It will have priority over everything else. Everything! I want this force to hit Britain in when I'm ready. And then, when the RAF is destroyed – Operation Sealion – the invasion of England - begins.’

12

Biggin Hill, Kent,

25 June 1940

             
‘I’m telling you sir, that’s exactly what happened.’

              ‘Well, it's a pretty tall story and added to your lack of experience, you must admit Wilson that you’re asking a lot of me to pass this sighting on to Command’

              Pilot Officer David Wilson had been pulled out of the Channel less than two hours ago, having been shot down whilst on a routine solo shipping sortie. True, he was inexperienced, with less than forty flying hours under his belt, but he wasn’t stupid nor was he prone to exaggeration. However, he was having great difficulty in convincing this debriefing officer of the facts.

              ‘Look Wilson, just go over it one more time for the Squadron Commander.’

              Wilson’s CO had joined them, wanting to get the facts from the horse’s mouth.

              ‘Ok sir, one more time. I was on patrol in Sector two-delta just off the coast at Clacton. Visibility was dreadful. Haze up to ten thousand feet, but I was down at one thousand, on shipping protection. Everything was fine, and I could easily monitor ship movements even though the forward visibility was only about two miles. I was pottering around at two hundred knots, saving fuel and then it happened. I almost jumped out of my skin. There was suddenly an incredibly loud crescendo of noise in the cockpit – like one of those drills workmen use in the street, but ten times louder. Next thing I knew I was tumbling seawards, so I pulled my ripcord and hit the sea a few seconds later. As I hit I looked for my Spit. There was no Spit! All that remained was falling into the sea around me. Pieces of aircraft no bigger than that typewriter. And the scary thing was that there was no other aircraft about. Normally you can hear the aircraft flying away or passing over to gloat. But there was nothing – except……’

              ‘Except what, Wilson, come on man, spit it out.’ The CO was enrapt by the story but impatient for the punch-line.

              ‘Except a roar – like thunder – fading into the distance. And as I looked towards France I saw a faint light. Up in the sky – sort of ….like a flame. And then it was gone. And that’s the truth, I swear it.’

              Wilson’s CO cut in fast.

‘OK, Wilson, you are dismissed – but you are to keep this to yourself – do you understand? Strictly to yourself! Tell the other chaps it was engine failure. Keep your mouth shut about this!’

Wilson nodded, got up and made his way back to the squadron.

His CO and the debriefing officer made their way to the Station Commanders office.

The Station Commander greeted them sombrely.

‘Another one Harris?’

The Squadron Commander nodded.

‘Well, that’s the third this week; all in different areas but generally all the same story. And to add to our troubles, over forty reports of thunderous noise from the inhabitants of the east coast. We can’t keep ignoring this. It’s now clear that Gerry has some fantastic secret weapon – and I’d stake my life on it being a jet fighter. I’m going to see the PM again this afternoon. He needs to be convinced’

The Station Commander left for Downing Street some twenty minutes later and was greeted by C-in-C Fighter Command, Sir Hugh Dowding on his arrival. As they entered the Prime Minister’s office they found him puffing on one of his habitual cigars.

After they had all settled, it was the Prime Minister who broke the silence.

‘Well, gentlemen, what the hell is going on!’

13

An airfield in Denmark later the same day

             
The pilot looked closely at the Me 262 gun-camera film on the light table. It confirmed clearly that the Spitfire had been destroyed completely.

              The pilot turned to Reichsmarschall Goering with a grim smile on his lips.

              ‘You can tell the Fuhrer that we are ready.’

                                                                                    ***

Somewhere Over Norfolk

Date Unknown

              ‘What the hell was that?’ yelled Stumpy from the front cockpit.

              ‘Lightning, Stumpy – and get the bloody jet back straight & level, we’re passing through six hundred feet and descending fast!’

              Stumpy reacted immediately and pulled the aircraft sharply back up to one thousand feet above ground level. It wasn’t like him to lose his concentration like this, but the flash of lightning had been incredible. He’d never experienced anything like it before.

              Todd quickly scanned the cockpit and asked Stumpy to do the same. Everything seemed OK except that the main compass was spinning rapidly and the Main Computer would need to be recycled. The TACAN navigation equipment was unlocked but they could live without that. Todd glanced outside and was somewhat relieved to see that the guilty CB was moving away to the east, and as he looked up he could see his formation – still circling above. It was time to do a quick radio check and see if any other aircraft in the formation had suffered similar damage.

              ‘Purple, check?’

              Silence.

              ‘Purple, CHECK?’

              And then after a five second pause, it came,

              ‘Red, Blue……..Green…………..Yellow all aboard.’

              All aboard told Todd that the entire formation of  fourteen aircraft was still with him. His relief was palpable.

              ‘Roger, all loud & clear. Be advised that Purple lead has suffered a serious lightning strike and is currently assessing the damage and preparing to return to base. Blue lead, can you inform the ground control that the flypast rehearsal is likely to be cancelled due to our potential unserviceability. Transmit on the reserve frequency whilst I check the rest of the formation. Before you switch, can you confirm that you are fully serviceable?’

              Blue replied almost immediately. And it wasn’t what Todd wanted to hear.

              ‘Negative Purple lead, we have also suffered a strike, but the aircraft is still flying – just about!’

              Todd needed to think.

              ‘Standby, Blue.’

              This was now looking bad. The formation could not now continue. The safety of the crews and aircraft were far more important that the bloody flypast. He needed to recover the aircraft to the home base as soon as possible and in one piece, and get them ready for tomorrow. However, before that he must check the serviceability of his team . It was more than likely that other aircraft had suffered a similar fate.

              ‘Purple, check serviceability, by formation and individually, direct to Purple lead, on this frequency’

              The crews checked in.

              ‘Red Two – also suffered lightning strike – appear to be serviceable.’

              ‘Red Three – likewise.’

              ‘Red Four – roger, us too.’

              And so it continued through the formation until Yellow Five gave the final call.

              ‘Yellow Five, lightning strike – two casualties up the back – two airmen not strapped in. One dead, one unconscious.’

              Todd could hardly believe his ears. One dead…………….

              ‘Yellow Five, put the Air Marshal on.’

‘Roger, wilco,’ answered Yellow Five.

              Fifteen seconds later Todd’s father came on the radio.

              ‘Purple lead, how do you read?’

              ‘Loud & clear, Yellow Five.  Is it true? Is one of the airmen really dead?’

‘I’m afraid so, son. But don’t blame yourself – it was my responsibility and I’ll carry the can.’

Todd snapped back – he was seething:

‘That’s not the point, tell it to his family! A man is dead because of your bloody display – this conversation is now over, the Flypast is cancelled and we’re all going back to Marham.’

‘Roger, Purple lead – it's your decision now.’

Todd held his breath, counted to ten to calm himself, but couldn’t prevent his hand shaking as he hit the radio transmit button.

‘Marham, Purple lead.’

Nothing

‘Marham, Purple lead, do you read.’

Silence.

‘Blue One, this is Purple – how do you read?’

‘Loud and clear, Purple.’

Todd tried again.

‘Marham, Purple lead, do you READ?’

More silence.

Todd thought quickly and efficiently as he was trained to do.

‘Purple formation switch to three-one-two decimal nine, GO!’

Todd waited five seconds for the formation to switch to the back-up frequency for Marham radar control.

‘Purple Check?’

‘Red, Blue, Green, Yellow – all aboard’

‘Roger;  Marham, Purple formation on 312.9, do you read?’

Still nothing.