Page 18 of Wings over England


  _Chapter_ XVIII Dave’s Strange Craft

  That boat-like affair on which Dave climbed after a short swim from thespot where his plane had sunk was strange indeed. Some sixteen feet longby eight wide, it rested on the surface of the sea. It was not a boat,for though it had a small cabin above and a large one below, it wasprovided with no form of propelling power, not even oars.

  The fact that struck the boy with the force of a blow was itsunquestioned Nazi origin. On its side was painted the hated cross. Thecabin below was fitted with all manner of articles for comfort andconvenience, blankets, towels, boxes of biscuits and chocolate, bottlesof soda water, all that a man could ask. Yet even here was the dreadedswastika. It was woven into towels and blankets and stamped into thebiscuits.

  “A Jerry hotel of the sea, a one man’s paradise,” he thought.

  Then, of a sudden it came to him. It was a float. He had heard of them.They were for the benefit of Nazi airmen who fell into the sea.

  “Well,” he sighed, “I’m no Nazi, but I am cold and wet. So here goes!”

  After stripping off his water-soaked garments he slipped into a coarse,heavy shirt bearing the hated insignia, a pair of blue trousers, coarsewool socks and heavy shoes. The shoes were too large, but that did notcount.

  “Now,” he sighed, “what next?”

  It struck him with sudden shock that the next thing might well be aroutine visit to the float by an enemy patrol boat. After that he wouldbe “Somewhere in Europe” for the duration of the war.

  Climbing to the narrow deck, he scanned the sea. A mist had settled downover the water. There was a freshness in the air which suggestedimpending storm. Here he was. Here he would stay unless—He sat down tothink.

  Ten minutes later he sprang into action. There was a compass in thelower cabin. He studied the wind, then consulted the compass.

  “O. K.,” he muttered. “If only—”

  On a shelf he found a hammer and a box of wooden pegs. These, heconcluded, would be for stopping up holes made by machine-gun bullets.

  Taking the hammer, he began examining the floor of the lower cabin onwhich he stood. The covering was, he discovered, composed of fiber. Torip it up was but the work of minutes. And there—he uttered a sharpexclamation of joy,—there, countersunk in the solid steel keel of thisunsailing craft, was a heavy steel nut. “Thought so,” he murmured.

  He had reasoned that, since this float did not move it must be anchoredby a cable or chain. The cable or chain must be fastened by aring-headed bolt with a nut inside the float. And so it was.

  Now to remove the nut and let the float go free. He blessed his starsthat from early childhood he had monkeyed with tools. A large nut, hehad discovered years ago, can be turned off simply by hammering at thecorners, thus turning it around little by little, a slow, tediousprocess, but sure of success in the end.

  For more than an hour, the empty world of sea and air might have heardthe patient tap—tap—tap of a hammer on steel.

  Now and then he paused to listen. Only the ever-rising song of thewind—welcome sound—greeted his ears.

  Once he consulted the compass, then climbed to the upper deck to facethe wind. After that he resumed his tapping with increased speed.

  At last, as a sigh escaped his lips, the nut slid to one side. At thesame instant a wave larger than all the rest tilted the float half onits side. There came the grating sound of the threaded bolt slippingfrom its place. Then a thin fountain of water spurted up.

  “Hurray! Free! We win!” he exulted.

  “Not bad,” he murmured as, after stopping the hole with a towel, hewrapped himself in a blanket and stretched out for a rest.

  This did not last long. He was in no mood for inaction. The battle amongthe clouds had set his blood racing. His imagination was fairly runningriot. The storm was picking up, but not half fast enough. What if theNazis caught up with him here? They had provided the place with allmanner of comfort but no weapons. Perhaps, after all, this float hadbeen intended as a trap.

  There was a short-wave radio in the corner. After a brief inspection hediscovered that it was both for sending and receiving. Twice his handwas on a dial. Twice, as his fingers trembled, he removed it. He didlong to get in touch with headquarters. By this time the remnant oftheir flight would be back. They would be wondering, dreading, hoping.He could put these uncertainties to rest at least as far as he wasconcerned. A few well-chosen words would assure them that he was safeand that it was taps for the beloved Johnny.

  His heart ached as he recalled his one brief glimpse of the fiddler’ssmashed plane before it sank forever beneath black waters. He had seenno sign of life. Yes, the fiddler was gone. God rest his soul.

  “But that Wick!” he asked himself. “What about him?”

  Yes, he thought he could get that radio going and tell the boys atheadquarters about things. But what would the Heinies be doing all thattime? Checking his location, beyond a doubt. Sending out a fast littlecraft to pick him up. Oh, no! Not yet. Some things were best left alone.

  After a time he made himself a cup of hot chocolate, then drank it, atthe same time munching biscuits and chocolate bar. Very thoughtful ofthose Nazis to spend so much time and thought on his comfort.

  There was even a checker-board and a deck of cards. He played himself agame of checkers, then switched to solitaire. This lasted a long time.

  When darkness at last settled down upon the sea, he climbed to the upperdeck. Clinging to a rail he watched the waves roll in. Seldom had hewitnessed a wilder scene. Racing clouds, racing sea and a moon thatappeared to race with them.

  Once again he checked the direction of the wind. Yes, unless he hadmiscalculated, he should land at last on the English coast. When? He hadno way of knowing. One thing was sure, if this storm kept up he’d knowwell enough when he did arrive. One good bump would tell him that.

  In the meantime? Well, tomorrow would be another day. He’d be needingall his senses. Might as well sleep while sleeping was good. Afterfastening his strange craft down good and snug for the night he rolledup in a half dozen heavy blankets and fell asleep.