The White Knight (34 page)

“You ran away?”

“Yes, sir, I ran away.”

“Well, when I get the White Knight in my sights, I won't run away!”

Ritter talked to all the men in the squadron as they came in and saw that they were disheartened. Anger began to burn in Erich Ritter as he envisioned what had happened that day. After encouraging the men, he left and made his way to General Hoffmann's office.

Hoffmann rose as soon as Ritter walked in and saluted him. “I'm glad you're back, Erich,” he said warmly. “We've missed you.”

“I was just talking to Began and the other men. We lost six planes today.”

“Six! How could that happen?”

“They say they were hit by a squadron led by a man who calls himself the White Knight. His plane is white with a knight painted on the side.”

Hoffmann looked troubled. He chewed his lower lip and said, “I want you to hear something.” He walked over to his desk and turned the switch on a piece of machinery Erich had never seen before. A voice broke the silence, and Ritter listened intently.

“This message is for Colonel Erich Ritter. My name is Luke Winslow. Colonel Ritter and I are old adversaries. Colonel Ritter, I'm sorry you were not with your squadron today. The last time we met, I shot you out of the skies, and it was my intention to do the same today. Please try to be with your men the next time they fly. The Wolf Squadron will be glad to furnish the reception. You'll recognize me. I'll be flying the white plane with the knight on the side.”

The voice faded, and Hoffmann saw shock on Ritter's face.

“I have no idea how he got your name, Ritter.”

“He flew against me in Spain, General.”

“You know about him, then.”

“He shot me down there. I should remember him.” Ritter was remembering his encounter with Luke Winslow. Ritter
had almost fond memories of the man who'd had every opportunity to shoot him and yet didn't, but now he knew he was matched in a battle with an adversary he had to kill.

“You can't let this go, Erich,” Hoffmann said. “It'll be in all the papers. He'll be the hero and you'll be the coward if you don't meet him.”

Erich Ritter nodded vigorously. His voice was harsh as he said, “I'll face the White Knight, General Hoffmann. Don't you ever doubt that, and he'll go down in flames this time!”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Checkmate!

The date was October 5, 1942. The aide outside of General Hoffmann's office twisted his mouth at the sound of the angry voices that emerged from the general's inner office. “Don't cross the general today, Max,” he said. “He's not in a good mood.”

“I'm surprised Colonel Ritter's making such a fuss. Listen to him. He's shouting like a crazy man.”

Indeed, Ritter was shouting. He had burst into General Hoffmann's office unannounced and startled the general, who was not accustomed to such behavior from his men.

Hoffmann sat back in his chair staring at the finest pilot in the entire Luftwaffe. He had never seen Ritter lose control like this, and he knew he had to handle the matter delicately. He simply sat there and waited while Ritter stormed at him angrily.

“The orders are insane, General!” Ritter complained. “They were handed down to me from high command.”

“Those idiots don't know what's happening! The orders are to wait until the American fighters run out of fuel and have to turn back. We can't attack before then.”

“It's the wise thing to do. We're after the bombers, Erich.”

“The same men who are flying these fighters will soon have planes that have long-range fuel tanks. I can't imagine why the Americans haven't done it yet. When they do, it'll be these men we're letting escape now who'll be flying. I say we kill them now before they have a chance.”

“We can't afford to lose any more fighters than we have to.” Hoffmann shook his head. “It's not general knowledge, but our factories have been letting us down. The British are turning out Spitfires like crazy, and the Americans are shipping P-47s and other fighters over daily. Every time we engage in attack, we risk losing precious 109s.”

“I don't care about that. When I'm up there, I see American fighters down below and I know we can get them. But the orders keep me from attacking. My honor is being questioned and even my courage.”

“You're talking about the broadcast Winslow put through.”

“Yes. He mocks me for running away and for not meeting him in battle.”

“You've proved your courage to me,” Hoffmann said. “You don't have to prove it to anyone else.”

“Yes I do. My men are beginning to doubt. Winslow's Wolf Squadron shows up and we watch them and don't attack. What do you think the men are thinking?”

“It's orders, Erich.”

“They're stupid, idiotic orders! Winslow's gotten to where he hangs around now when the rest of the planes go back and challenges me to come down and meet him in a single duel. And I hang around and wait until he runs low on fuel. I tell you, General, my honor's at stake. Something has to be done.”

“I'll talk to Göring about it.”

“Good! He's an old fighter pilot. He should know what it's like. I've got to go now. It's time for the mission.”

Ritter left the general's office and went at once to the field. He made his way to where his plane was being prepared and said, “Is she all ready to go, Neudorf?”

“Yes, Colonel. All ready and in fine shape.”

“You always do a good job.”

“Thank you, Colonel.” Neudorf hesitated, then said, “I hope you get that blasted White Knight, sir. I know you could shoot him down if they'd just let you fight.”

Ritter stared at his mechanic, and suddenly something
changed in his features. A smile appeared on his thin lips, and he asked, “Did you ever disobey a direct order, Neudorf?”

He grinned. “Several times, sir. Did you?”

Erich Ritter thought about that and then said enigmatically, “Not yet. . . .” He climbed into the cockpit, and after he was strapped in, he closed the canopy and moved the 109 forward. He saw the rest of the squadron coming after him and led them out for the takeoff. He waited until they had gained their proper altitude and then said over his radio, “If we see the Wolf Squadron, I'm going to have a crack at that White Knight. It shouldn't take long. Shultz, you're in charge until I return.”

The competition between the White Knight and the Black Knight was well known to the pilots in Ritter's squadron. The second-in-command said, “Isn't that against orders, Colonel?”

“Yes, it is, but I can't put up with him any longer.”

A cheer came over the radio, and all the men in the squadron shouted words of encouragement.

“Let's go get them, and I hope the White Knight is there with them!”

****

General Eaker had come out to watch the Wolf Squadron take off. He chomped on his cigar and shook his head. “I wish we had long-range fighters and could stay with the bombers all the way to the target.”

“It's hard to leave those fellows in the bombers, General,” Luke agreed. “When will we get belly tanks for our planes?”

“I don't know. There's some kind of problem with the P=-47. The drop tanks aren't working right.” He turned and said, “You've seen Ritter several times, I understand.”

Luke's face was grim. “Yes, sir. Those krauts know our range, and they don't attack until we turn back. Several times Ritter has shown himself, but by that time I'm low on fuel
and have to turn back.” A smile creased his lips. “But I have a plan.”

“A plan to do what?”

“How to get him.”

“I'd like to hear about it.”

“I've been thinking about this for a long time, General Eaker. We use a lot of fuel just gaining altitude and flying at high speeds. Today, since I don't have an auxiliary tank, I'm going to let the squadron go on without me. I'm going to fly as slow as I can at low altitudes. By the time the rest of the planes have to return, I'll get to where the bombers are. I ought to get there about the time Ritter makes his attack after he sees the rest of our planes coming back. When Ritter and his men attack, I'll go up and meet him. I won't have a whole lot of fuel, but all I need to do is get on his tail for a few bursts.”

Eaker liked the idea. He was a daring man himself, and he had complete confidence in Luke Winslow. “That's cutting it pretty fine. If you run out of fuel, you'll have to bail out over Germany. I wouldn't like to spend the rest of the war in a prison camp.”

“If my plan works, I'll wipe out the Black Knight and then scoot for home.”

Eaker sucked on his cigar and blew out a thick cloud of smoke. “Sounds like a bad novel, Winslow, but I hope it works.”

****

Flying slowly at very low altitudes was boring. Luke kept track of the squadron by listening on his radio but did not use his own. Finally he looked up and saw the squadron coming back. He counted them and muttered with satisfaction, “Good! They're all there.” He calculated his fuel and saw that he had quite a bit more than usual at this stage in his flight. Finally up ahead he saw the contrails of the bombers, and
increasing his speed slightly and gaining some altitude, he was soon able to see that the bombers were under heavy attack.

“They were just waiting for our boys to leave,” he muttered. “Now if I can just find Ritter. . . .” He headed for the bomber formations, and the B-17s already showed gaps. He saw one B-17 get shot down in flames. Luke anxiously watched the plane head for the ground and waited until he saw the parachute.

The fighters would not be expecting a P-47, nor would they be looking at him to come from beneath. He had always come from above, out of the sun, which was a good aerial tactic. Finally his heart gave a lurch as he saw a plane painted black. Straining his eyes, he could finally make out the knight and dragon on the side.

“All right, Colonel Erich Ritter, it's payoff time!” He gunned his engine to full speed and pulled rapidly. Ritter had made a pass at a bomber, raking it with his guns. But as he shot by it, he was completely unprepared when suddenly Luke caught him in his sights. Pushing the firing button, Luke saw the tracers reach out but was disappointed to see that only a few of them struck the 109.

Ritter had excellent reflexes, and he gave the 109 a sharp twist. Bringing it around, he was headed straight for Luke, who had little time to change direction. As he flipped the P-47 over, he felt bullets raking his ship. Suddenly the control felt loose in his hand, and he knew that something vital had taken a bullet.

****

Ritter had been totally shocked to see the white plane with the knight on the side. He knew that his own plane had escaped serious damage, and when he saw the white plane break away and head for home, he knew this was his chance. “I've done him some damage. I'm going to get him now. Shultz, take over,” he said over the radio. Then he shoved the throttle forward and took off after the P-47, leaning forward
with anticipation. “I've got him,” he said as he saw smoke trailing out of the white plane's engine.

****

The trip home was a cat-and-mouse affair. Luke's plane was so damaged he knew he could not engage in a dogfight with Ritter, so he did his best to dodge him, hiding in clouds when he had the opportunity, but he was unable to shake Ritter. He was becoming almost desperate when he looked out and saw the English Channel beneath him.

“At least I'll be over England if I have to bail out,” he breathed with relief.

He looked down and saw that his fuel gauge was almost empty. The control still felt loose, and once again he heard the stammer of Ritter's guns and wrenched the plane to one side. As he did an idea came to him. With his plane damaged he could not outperform Ritter, so he would have to use the element of surprise.

Glancing up in the mirror to his left, he saw Ritter striving to get on his tail. It was the thing he had tried to avoid, but he had one chance. He allowed Ritter to come up behind him and as soon as he did, instead of increasing speed, Luke cut the throttle back to zero and at the same time wrenched the stick back. The plane nosed upward, and Ritter, caught off guard by the decrease in speed and the sudden rising of Luke's plane, shot past Luke. As soon as he did, Luke dropped his nose and had Ritter in his sights. He pulled the trigger and the guns of the P-47 shook the entire plane. He saw he had hit the black plane, doing massive damage. As he followed, he expected Ritter to bail out, but he did not.

****

Ritter's engine had been hit and was smoking, and he knew now that he had no chance. Reaching up to shove the canopy back, he realized one of the bullets had struck it and it would not move. He struggled, but it was too late. His plane was losing altitude, and he knew he would have to do his best to land it with the little control he had left.

He spotted a field far ahead. “If I can make that field,” he muttered, “I'll be all right.” He brought the plane in and it bounced several times, then flipped over, wrenching Ritter's hands from the controls. His head struck the windshield as he was thrown forward, and he knew nothing but blackness.

****

Luke watched Ritter land and saw the plane flip over. He suddenly remembered how Ritter had been a gallant adversary, despite their differing opinions over control of Spain. He did not have enough fuel to get to another field so he made a quick decision. He brought the Thunderbolt down, jumped out, and ran over to the black plane. The cowling had been raked off, and Ritter was hanging by his safety belt. Pulling out his knife, Luke cut the safety belt and caught Ritter as he fell. He dragged the man frantically, for he knew very well what could happen.

When they were less than a hundred yards away, the German plane burst into a fireball, the impact knocking Luke down. He struggled to pull Ritter's limp body farther away as the flames roared.