Ten seconds later, the voice of Lutz, in the rear of the aircraft, cut in.
“Herr Hauptmann, we just passed an enemy jeep going like shit towards Chrudim. Disappeared before I could get a shot at him.”
You arsehole, Menzel thought.
When he looked up, he could just make out the tower of the church of Chrudim on the skyline ahead of them and slightly to port. At that moment, Klepper turned to the left so that he was lined up directly with the landmark. It was then that Menzel noticed a needle-thin line of tracer bending round towards them from the top of the tower. He tried to get in a deflection shot with his MG 81, but was way off. The firing stopped, so the Russian must have gone for cover.
Klepper raised the nose of the Uhu and climbed to a hundred metres as they swept over the town. Menzel pressed down on the button at the end of the cable. Beneath the fuselage the twin Hasselblads clicked in concert, each snapping away at the scene below them at five frames a second. Menzel was dimly aware of a large square in the middle of the town that was filled with armour. He looked back as they passed over the target area. Jesus, the streets of the town were a mass of olive green vehicles… lorries, armoured cars, tanks.
The aircraft rocked in the turbulence as the FW was straddled by bursts of anti-aircraft fire.
Klepper cut in over the din of the muffled explosions outside.
“I hope you got everything on camera, because that’s it. No sense in risking our necks if we’re going to get another reception like that.”
The icy slipstream bit even harder into Menzel’s face. The High Command would have to bring together all its reserve strength to have any hope of fending off an armoured assault of that magnitude.
As Klepper set a course back for Altenburg, Menzel spared a thought for the troops that were preparing to defend the Fatherland from the Russians’ spearhead assault from the south.
CHAPTER SIX
It didn’t take them long to find the hospital, its red brick gothic towers and crenellations looming high in the mist above the small terraced houses of West London.
“Poor little mite,” Kruze whispered.
He paused by the railings, momentarily appalled that anyone could put an orphan of a few hours in a place like that, but she tugged him gently by the arm, urging him on.
They entered the hospital through the big vaulted arch that was the main entrance. The duty nurse’s face lit up the moment Penny asked for Billy Simmons.
“Oh, I am so glad,” she said, “he’s been asking for you.” She strode off down the corridor in the direction of the ward.
The boy seemed to be asleep as they moved awkwardly to his bed. The nurse touched the Rhodesian on the shoulder and whispered.
“He’s been very badly shaken. Not surprising when you think what he’s been through. Lost both his parents, poor little rat.”
“I know,” Penny said quietly. Kruze seemed not to be listening. He was studying the face that protruded from the sheets. Billy’s eyes were screwed tightly shut and furrows like gashes were etched across his brow. The nurse continued in a hushed voice.
“His legs will heal. It’s the deeper wounds that worry us.”
Kruze pulled up the chair by the bed.
“I’ll leave you three alone for a little while,” the sister said. “Call me if you need anything.” She walked out of the room. Kruze took in the high ceiling and the pistachio coloured walls. The two other patients in the ward seemed to be taking little notice of him or Penny. There was a coldness in the room which made him shudder. He had never spent a day in a hospital and hoped he never would.
For a second, he wondered what he was doing there. What would he say to the child if he awoke? There had been few children within the small farming community around Ellingworth where he had grown up, and they had had a maturity beyond their years. You got old fast in the bush, especially in the hostile country of the Mateke in Southern Rhodesia.
He turned to Penny, but she nodded towards Billy.
When he looked back at the boy, the young eyes were open and staring boldly back at him. His lips moved.
“I knew you’d come.” The words were barely audible, but he tried to smile. “Who are you?”
“I’m Kruze.” He tried to smile back. He took Penny’s hand and urged her gently towards the edge of the bed. “And this here is Penny.” She bent down and moved a strand of hair out of his eyes.
The boy’s blue eyes never left Kruze’s face. “How are you feeling, feller?” Kruze asked, disturbed by the intensity of Billy’s gaze.
“My legs don’t hurt, I just feel thirsty; always thirsty. They tell me I can’t drink, though. Why is that? Why don’t they tell me things, Kruze? I know my mother and father are dead, but they don’t tell me.” The lower lip began to pucker, but he managed not to cry.
“I suppose they just want you to try and get better…”
“I knew you would come, though.”
“How was that, Billy?” Penny asked.
The boy’s face tightened in concentration.
“Nurse told me I was very lucky. She said that if I hadn’t had a pair of guardian angels watching over me I might be…”
“Anyone would have done it,” Penny said, squeezing his hand.
The boy’s concentration seemed to lapse for a moment as his eyes roved slowly round the room. There was nothing there to remind him of home. He looked back to Kruze.
“Are you a pilot?”
“Yes, I fly fighters mostly.” The boy’s eyes seemed to sparkle for an instant and he pulled himself a little way up the bed.
“I bet you’ve shot down a lot of Germans.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Well, you’ve got a lot of ribbons on your chest, so you must have shot down a lot to have got them.”
“Actually, I got most of these for testing new fighters and you don’t have to be too brave to do that. If anybody deserves a medal, it’s you.”
Billy fell silent.
“I’d never get a medal. You don’t get medals for hating people, do you?”
“What do you mean?” Penny asked.
“I know that when I leave here I’ll have to live with my gran. I’d rather die than live with her. She just makes rules all the time. I won’t stay. I’ll run away the moment I get the chance.” He was on the verge of tears.
“I’m sure she’s not that bad.”
The boy winced. “She beat me once. Mum never beat me.
“What had you done?”
“Nothing. Nothing at all.”
Billy turned his head away from Kruze and looked through the window and out over the roof tops. Almost a minute passed before he spoke again.
“I was with some friends outside her house. We were playing in the street. One of them kicked a ball and it went through her window. Everyone ran away ‘cept me. She beat me for it with a stick.”
“Hey, you listen to me,” Kruze began. “I knew a kid like you once, who lived on a farm back in Rhodesia, where I come from. He even looked a bit like you. His parents had a small aeroplane which they used for flying around the farm. It was a pretty big farm.” He gestured expansively with his hands.
“One day they flew into a cloud and never came out — they just disappeared. The plane must have crashed somewhere in the hills, but no one ever found the wreckage. The boy, who wasn’t much older than you, was brought up by his grandfather and, from the start, the two of them just never saw eye to eye. Much later, when he grew up he met this girl and told his grandfather that he was going to marry her. The old man went through the roof and told him that he was young and foolish and that he should know better. The boy decided to run away with the girl, but it didn’t work out.”