Edith was numb, as she sat in her parents flat in Hastings, several weeks after the funeral, going through their things. She was determined to sell the flat, and try as best she could to move on. Her grief had been deep, taking her breath away, in spite of all the death and destruction that surrounded her.
She sat at the kitchen table, looking at some of the books she’d kept, and found that she wasn’t quite ready to part with everything. Edith picked up a small green volume, which had been given to her grandmother with an inscription inside:
To Martha Woolsley, on the occasion of Alice’s birth
It was a copy of Alice in Wonderland, and Edith vaguely remembered her mother reading it to her when she was a girl, and the images of the Chesire Cat, and the rabbit always running around with his timepiece. She felt a sense of childhood reach out to her, so far away, like a distant land, and she put her hands on her tummy, thinking about the new life that had recently started there. She thought about the argument with Eric, the first real row of their marriage, about her insistence on continuing to fly for the ATA. There had been some heated words, but finally Eric had backed down, saying “well, at least our child will learn how to fly in the womb”, and he was consoled with her agreement to quit eventually.
Edith looked up at the Calendar – it was October 31st, 1940. She thought that might work out to a birth around the beginning of June in 1941. She hoped earnestly that Eric would survive the Blitz, and she looked outside, noticing that she hadn’t heard any telltale signs of battle so far that day.
As she stood up in the early morning sun, she felt a pang of nausea, and stood over the kitchen sink, feeling heavy. So this is what my mother must have felt like. When it passed, she made herself a cup of tea, and was adding honey and milk, when she heard a knock at the door.
She looked out and saw a smartly dressed, official looking man. For a moment she felt her mind dart between panic, at the thought of a government official coming to tell her of something happening with Eric – and then realized that he wasn’t wearing military dress.
“Hello, ma’am” he said. “I’m George Tenney, in the service of Her Majesty” and he gave her a card that had 10 Downing Street on it. “Might I have a word?”
“About what?” she asked flatly, and noticed that he appeared concerned, glancing up and down the street. Another figure waited in the car.
“Well that’s it, ma’am, it’s a government matter, and Winston Churchill sent us” he said apologetically. “Ah! And he said it was to do with the Order of the Dragonfly” And Edith raised an eyebrow, and let George in.
“Cup of tea?”
“No ma’am”
“Well, get on with it”
“Yes, well, we wondered if you would be interested in getting some training on being a fighter pilot and then training others?” and Edith sat straight up and her heart began racing.
“Really? You’re kidding.” she asked, holding her breath.
“No ma’am – I realize it’s a bit out of the ordinary” and he stuck his finger in his collar, pulling it loose a bit. “And I should say we’re not asking you to go into combat” Edith frowned.
“And who am I to learn tactics from?” she asked incredulously.
George Tenney looked around the flat and asked in a whisper “is anyone else here, ma’am?” and it seemed so comical that Edith wondered if he was a looney. Her face lightened a bit and she sighed.
“No.” she said, and folded her arms, and she wondered if her pregnancy was affecting her sensitivity at all.
“Well ma’am, there’s a German pilot who’s been captured . . .”
“A German pilot!” she exclaimed. “That’s absurd!” and her voice began to rise in anger with each word. “You come in here, bursting into my home, and tell me fanciful stories about becoming a fighter pilot, and . . . “ and George started to stutter, as Eric Wallace looked in from the doorway, smiling.
“Now now, George, I had better take over.”
“Eric!” Edith exclaimed, and rushed into his arms, and gave him a passionate kiss.
“Well, well, my feisty ferry pilot, let’s not embarrass representatives of Her Majesty’s government too much, shall we?” and he nodded at George.
“So what’s afoot, Eric, why in the world are you even here, and what’s all this got to do with? Was this some kind of joke?” and Eric and George looked at each other.
“No joke dear. Do you remember Rudy?”
“Of course, is Rudy ok?”
“Yes, yes – well he has a cousin who flew with the Luftwaffe until recently” he said, and looked with a meaningful glance at George, who nodded.
“And no one knows that we have him – but he didn’t get captured exactly – he shot down other German planes, so that he could escape, and try to help us fight against Hitler”. Edith absorbed this, and looked at both of them like they were from another planet.
“And what’s this got to do with me?” she asked.
“Well dear, we wondered if you’d be willing to learn fighter tactics from Rudy’s cousin, flying a bf109 that we’ve captured and restored.”
“Why can’t he train pilots directly?”
“Well that’s the thing. The air ministry, those who know about it, are very small in number, and they’d like to keep it secret – if the public found out that a German pilot was training the RAF, there’s no telling what would happen. So we’d like to try having him train you, and you training RAF pilots in turn.”
“Where? How?” she asked, with a glimmer of hope. This was real. I can learn how to be a fighter pilot!
“Well there’s no time to lose, so any time you’re ready.”
“Let’s be off then!” and Edith stood up, and took one box of books, and put it in Eric’s hands, ignoring the smile on this face, and she put the other box in George Tenney’s hands, who didn’t dare smirk at the feisty ferry pilot. Winston warned me about her.
And they sat next to each other on the way to the airbase, enjoying what they could of the day, and being together.
“So how can you trust this German pilot?” she asked. Eric looked at George, who nodded.
“Well, they’ve tested him a few times, in several ways. Winston Churchill had a long talk with him, and he’s been separated at the prison camp from the beginning from all the other prisoners. Very few people know about him. But he gave some information to Winston Churchill directly about some important people in the German army, and their intentions, and his hatred for the Nazi regime was sufficient enough to convince Winston.”
“Fair enough. Is he a good pilot?” she asked, wondering what she’d learn.
“Yes, he’s an ace, one of their best” said Eric. “What’s more, they even sent him up in a plane, and falsified the fuel gauge so he could only go so far as the coast, but he returned, as meek as a mouse. He’s already given me a few helpful pointers.”
“Ok then Eric, I’ll be glad to take part in your dastardly scheme.” and she took his hand and muttered “Perhaps someday the RAF will allow me to be a real fighter pilot” and she had a smile of her own, noticing Eric open his mouth to say something, and look at her, and then close it, sighing. That’s my girl.
--
In Berlin, a Nazi staff member, Otto Spiegel, read a very short memo to the Fuehrer.
“The weather conditions in England today were overcast. There were some light raids, but no losses on either side.”
“Very well” said Adolf Hitler. “We shall now turn to Russia. Please draft a note to all of the High Command. We will continue to take bombers away from England, and place them at the agreed gathering point in their forward stations. We will prepare for Operation Barbarossa, and continue to give Stalin the impression that we are allies with him, and continue to get as much oil and raw materials and food from the Soviet Union as possible, while paying them as little money as possible. We cannot create the least suspicion. And then in June of next year, we will strike!”
The attendant took his note, salut
ed Hitler, and walked down the very long hall in Berlin, to set their plans in motion.