Edith Wallace set her tea cup down and looked at her granddaughter Jane, and at Billy, who had drifted off into a nap sometime around the end of the Battle of Britain.
Jane was still wide awake, marveling. She’d heard some of the stories, but not all of them.
“So Herman – that was Ernst?” she asked, incredulously. She had met Herman when he was still alive, still giving flying lessons at the flight school in Iowa. “I had no idea. Wait a minute, did he name himself after . . . “ and Edith smiled.
“Yes, after Hermann Goering. Ernst had a dark sense of humor. Amazing to me how he had any sense of humor at all. But your Aunt Alice seemed to draw it out of him. He used to read to her every week, with Alice sitting on his knee, as pleased as a peach.”
“So my father met Winston Churchill, I didn’t realize that.” said Jane, remembering how dad had talked about Winston Churchill, defending him against any criticism.
“Speaking of Winston Churchill, I think it’s about time we all went to bed” Edith said, and they turned in for the night.
Edith lay in bed, looking at the moon, wishing she was still flying, and grateful that she was able to at least ride up in the sky. She patted the bed next to her, feeling the loss, but also the acceptance she’d reached, when she’d been able to swim past the grief. I hope to see you again, Eric, she thought, and she smiled. Too bad you weren’t around to share our last surprise.
--
The next day, Jane woke up, and remembered the key, and she felt like it was Christmas morning. She remembered visiting Grandma at Christmas and never quite knowing what she had up her sleeve. Whether big, or small, or medium, it was almost always a surprise, something thoughtful, or more often, just fun, in some way.
“Grandma, so what’s the key for?” asked Jane, as she stood in the kitchen with Edith, who was heating up some tea. And Edith smiled.
“Do you remember the key?” asked Edith, and Jane thought back to visiting Grandpa’s workshop, and all the small model planes that he used to work on, which he shared with her father when he was a boy, and with her, when she was a girl.
“Yes, certainly. Is the workshop still there?” she asked, knowing the answer.
“Yes, it’s still there. Do you approve?” asked Edith, as she poured some honey and milk in the tea.
“Yes, of course. I’m not sure quite how the logistics would work . . . “ she said, thinking about how Billy’s eyes would pop out of his head when he saw the workshop, and then be disappointed when he couldn’t bring it back home.
“Ah well, don’t worry about the logistics, we’ll figure that out.” said Edith. “Eric wanted Billy to have the building when he was old enough, if he wanted it, since your husband has the building in the United States. All in due time. But for now, perhaps Billy could pick a plane that he likes, and we can wrap it up carefully and he can take it home.”
“Certainly”
They enjoyed the quiet of the morning together, watching the sun chase away the morning dew, and the bees start to carry on their business on the flowers outside, hovering from bloom to bloom.
“It’s a shame I won’t be here to enjoy the garden” said Edith.
“Why is that?” asked Jane.
“Well, I’ve decided to come back to the U.S. – for good, so I can be with you for the years I have left” she said, and took Jane’s hand. “If that would be ok”.
“Of course, grandma!” Jane said, and was thankful for the gift.
Later that day they made their way to the workshop, and Billy was thrilled to ride in Grandpa’s old Rolls Royce Phantom, and Edith felt a continued sense of mischief, knowing the authorities would be somewhat frightened to know that there was a Merlin engine under the hood. But she had carefully worked to re-do the cowling over the years, and carefully restored it with Eric, so it would have all the power of the Merlin, but no one would be the wiser. You had to be especially careful driving it, but the governor kept it within limits, and only Tom and Edith knew how to disable the governor. Tom drove them to the building that contained the workshop, and Edith smiled, thinking and only Tom and I know what the building really contains.
Edith opened the door into the small but tidy workshop, and Billy said “coooooool” as he looked around at the planes on the benches, in displays and hanging from the ceiling. When invited to choose a plane, he shyly looked around, and spied a Spitfire, and looked at Edith, who nodded and said “that will do”. And then she looked at both Jane and Billy, and said to Jane
“Now Jane, do you have the key?” and Jane drew it out, wondering what was up, as Edith leaned down to look into Billy’s eyes.
“Now Billy, would you like to see something interesting?” she asked, and when he nodded, she took his hand and led him over to a door at the edge of a workshop. “Go ahead and try the key” and Billy took the key, and opened the door, and the room was pitch black, except for the light shining in, revealing a bare concrete floor. Jane felt her heart thump, hearing the echoes and the immensity of the room.
“Now Billy, I want you to hold onto your great grandmother’s hand, I’m not so young as I once was” and Billy did. “Thank you Billy, you’re a fine gentleman. Now I want you to each over and flip the little switch to your right” And Billy looked over and dimly saw a small light switch. He flipped it on, and far off in the distance, up very high, lights started glowing. One by one, they flipped on, rapidly coming across and illuminating the large space. Billy’s eyes dropped, and opened with wonder, as Jane gasped, and Edith sighed.
Before them was Edith’s secret aerodrome, the one that no one knew about, and right before them, was a Supermarine Spitfire, MkI, lost to the records and lost to time, but lovingly restored, and secretly flown from time to time, with the cooperation of generations of RAF personnel who had agreed to utmost secrecy from the time Winston Churchill was still prime minister.
Next to the Spitfire MkI were other planes, including two bf109 fighters, a Heinkel 111 bomber, and a Hurricane. Further off was a Huey Helicopter, very much like the one that Edith’s son had flown in Vietnam. Edith felt a pang, and held Billy’s hand, knowing that she would need to hold his hand to be able to look at that helicopter. She hoped against hope that her son was still alive, somewhere in Vietnam. There’s nothing wrong with hope. Next to the Huey was her son’s van, a favorite vehicle, which had also been restored, but left with the things her son had left in it the day he had gone to Vietname. Edith breathed, and sighed, as Billy tugged, and asked shyly, “Can we take closer look?”
And Edith smiled, and looked down, and she drew hope from the future in Billy’s eyes, hope that he would continue the tradition of the Order of the Dragonfly.
“Yes, Billy. You can certainly take a look at them, because they’re yours now.”
The End
*******
Note: this is the first release – as further editing is done, newer releases will be developed. Please visit https://www.thedawnpatrol.net and sign up for the email list to receive news about future editions.
About the author: Todd Kelsey is an author and educator, currently an Assistant Professor at Benedictine University. He developed an interest in World War II history and the Battle of Britain from a visit to England on one of the anniversaries of the Battle of Britain. Please feel free to connect on LinkedIn: https://linkedin.com/in/tekelsey
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