I felt Tubby check and was reminded suddenly of that night at Membury when he and I had stood outside the window of our mess. Then Diana turned and saw us. Her eyes lit up and she rushed over, seizing hold of Tubby, hugging him. Then she turned to me and kissed me, too. ‘Harry! Harry!’ She was calling excitedly across the room. ‘Here’s Tubby just flown in.’ She swung back to her husband. ‘Darling — remember I told you my brother Harry was in Berlin. Well, here he is.’
I saw the stiffness leave Tubby’s face. He was suddenly grinning happily, shaking the big American’s hand up and down, saying, ‘My God! Harry. I should have recognised you from your photograph. Instead, I thought you were some boyfriend of Diana’s.’ He didn’t even bother to hide his relief, and Diana never seemed to notice that anything had been wrong. She was taken too much by surprise. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you were flying in?’ she cried. ‘You devil, you. Come on. Let’s get you some coffee. They only give you a few minutes here.’
I stood and watched her hustling him to the bun counter, wondering whether he had told her what had happened at Membury, wondering what she’d say if she knew I was going to ditch him in the Russian Zone.
‘You must be Fraser.’ Her brother was at my elbow. ‘I’ve heard a lot about you from Di. My name’s Harry Culyer, by the way.’ He had Diana’s eyes, but that was all they had in common. He had none of her restlessness. He’ was the sort of man you trust on sight; big, slow-spoken, friendly. ‘Yes, I’ve heard a lot about you and a crazy devil called Saeton. Is that really his name?’ He gave a fat chuckle. ‘Seems apt from what Di told me.’
I wondered how much she had told him. ‘Are you connected with the airlift?’ I asked him.
He shook his head. ‘No, I’m attached to the Control Office of the U.S. Military Government. I used to work for the Opel outfit before the war so they figured I’d have to stay on in some sort of uniform and keep an eye on vehicle production in the Zone. Right now I guess you could do with some coffee, eh?’
The coffee was thick and sweet. With it was a potted meat sandwich and a highly-coloured cake full of synthetic cream. ‘Cigarettes?’ I said, offering him a packet.
‘Well, thanks. That’s one of the troubles here in Berlin. Cigarettes are damned hard to come by. And it’s worse for your boys. They’re down to about fifteen a day. Well, what do you think of Gatow?’ He laughed when I told him I was disappointed. ‘You expected to find it littered with aircraft, eh? Well, that’s organisation. Tempelhof is the same. They’ve got it so that these German labour teams turn the planes round in about fifteen minutes.’
“What brings you out to Gatow?’ I asked him. ‘Just paying Diana a visit?’
‘Sort of. But I got a good excuse,’ he added with a grin. ‘I had to interview a German girl who has just got a job out here as a checker in your German Labour Organisation. Some trouble about her papers and we urgently need her down at Frankfurt. That’s why I came up to Berlin.’
‘You’re not stationed here then?’ I asked.
‘No. I’m normally in the Zone. It’s nice and quiet down there — by comparison. I just been talking to your SIB major over there. The stories that man can tell!’
‘What’s he doing up at Gatow?’ I asked.
‘Oh, there’s been some trouble with the Russians. This is your first trip, isn’t it? Well, you see those trees on the other side of the airfield?’ He nodded through the windows. ‘That’s the frontier over there.’
The Russian Sector?’
‘No. The Russian Zone. Last night Red Army guards opened up on a German car just after it had been allowed through the frontier barrier into the British Sector. Then their troops crossed the frontier and pushed the car back into their Zone under the nose of the R.A.F. Regiment. Your boys are pretty sore about it.’
‘You mean the car was shot up in British territory?’ I asked.
He laughed. ‘Seems that sort of thing is happening every day in this crazy town. If they want somebody, they just drive into the Western Sectors and kidnap them.’ The corners of his eyes crinkled. ‘From what I hear our boys do the same in the Eastern Sector.’
An R.A.F. orderly called to me from the door. ‘Two-five-two ready, sir.’
‘Well, I guess that’s your call. Glad to have met you, Fraser.’
‘Neil!’ Diana caught hold of my arm. ‘Tubby has just told me — about the crash.’ She glanced quickly at Tubby who was saying goodbye to her brother. ‘What’s Bill doing now?’ she asked in a quick whisper. I didn’t know what to say so I kept my mouth shut. ‘Oh, don’t be silly. I’ve got over that. But I know how it must have hit him. Where is he now?’
‘He’s still at Membury,’ I said. And then added, ‘He’s sticking the plane together with sealing wax.’
‘You don’t mean to say he’s still going on with it?’
‘Look — I’ve got to go now,’ I said. ‘Goodbye, Diana.’
She was staring at me with a puzzled frown. ‘Goodbye,’ she said automatically.
Outside it was still raining. We climbed into the plane and taxied out to the runway. ‘You’re clear to line up now, Two-five-two. Two-six-O a-concrete — angels three-five.’ We flew out along the single exit corridor and were back in Wunstorf in good time for lunch. A letter was waiting for me at the mess. The address was typed and the envelope was postmarked ‘Baydon’. Dear Neil. Just to let you know I have almost completed the break-up. I have a flare path now. All you have to do is buzz once and I’ll light you m. Good luck. Bill Saeton. As I folded the letter Tubby came into the room. ‘Message from Harcourt. We’re not on the 1530 wave. He’s switched us to 2200. Says the other boys need a night’s sleep.’
So it had come. I had a sudden sick feeling.
He peered at me anxiously. ‘You feeling all right, Neil?’
‘Yes. Why?’
‘You look pretty pale. Not nervous, are you? Damn it, you’ve no reason to be. You had enough experience of night-flying during the war.’ His gaze fell to the letter in my hand but he didn’t say anything and I tore it into small pieces and stuffed them into my pocket.
‘Better turn in then if we’re going to fly all night,’ I said.
But I knew I shouldn’t sleep. Hell! Why did I have to agree to this damn-fool scheme? I was scared now. Not scared of the danger. I don’t think it was that. But what had seemed straightforward and simple over a drink in the pub at Ramsbury seemed much more difficult now that I was actually a part of the airlift. It seemed utterly crazy to try and fly a plane out of this organised bus service of supply delivery. And I had to convince a crew that included Tubby Carter that they had got to bale out over the Russian Zone. The menace of the Zone had already gripped me. I lay and sweated on my bed, listening to the 1530 wave taking off, knowing that mine was the next wave, scared that I should bungle it.
At tea I could eat nothing, but drank several cups, smoking cigarette after cigarette, conscious all the time of Tubby watching me with a puzzled, worried expression. Afterwards I walked down to the field in the gathering dusk and watched the planes pile in, a constant stream of aircraft glimmering like giant moths along the line of the landing lights. I saw my own plane, Two-five-two, come in, watched it swing into position on the loading apron and the crew pile out, and I hung on, waiting for the maintenance crew to finish servicing it. At last it stood deserted, a black shape against the wet tarmac that glistened with the reflection of the lights. I climbed on board.
Saeton and I had discussed this problem of simulating engine failure at great length. The easiest method would have been simply to cut off the juice. But the fuel cocks were on the starboard side, controlled from the flight engineer’s seat. We had finally agreed that the only convincing method was to tamper with the ignition. I went forward to the cockpit and got to work on the wiring behind the instrument panel. I had tools with me and six lengths of insulated wire terminating in small metal clips. What I did was to fix two wires to the back of three of the ignition switches. These wires I led along the back of the instrument panel and brought out at the extreme left on my own side. All I had to do when I wished to simulate engine failure was to clip each pair of wires together and so short out the ignition switches. That would close the ignition circuit and stop the plugs sparking.