“We’ve been bounced good and proper.”
In need of altitude, Gabi pulled back hard, fighting the pain in her shoulder. Peter followed, nuggets of hot metal narrowly missing their aircrafts as they jinked a path above the clouds and out of range from enemy fire.
“We’re lucky these jets are fast.” He waited for instruction. “Captain, are you all right?”
Gabi peered down at a hole in her jacket, then up at the speckled canopy. “I’ve taken one in the shoulder.”
“You’ve taken one in your fuel tanks too—more than one by the look of things.”
A stream of fluid seeped from Swallow’s undercarriage, dispersing in a vapour trail.
“Check your fuel.”
Gabi looked at her instrument panel, the gauge dropping disastrously. No calculation was necessary; she would be without fuel in minutes.
“I won’t make it back… I’ll head for land and bail… you’d better get going… they’ll be back.”
Peter nodded across at her and saluted. “For the glory of the Reich.”
She rolled her eyes but took it no further; he would remain loyal and deluded to the end.
“Godspeed; be safe,” she said before turning Swallow back north to the coast.
She travelled along the shoreline in search of a suitable location to bail, the coastal vegetation dense but low, consisting mostly of shrubs and heather. It was a sea of purple and spread over the cliffs and hills like a soft, woollen blanket.
Swallow was not fitted with an ejection seat—few Me-262s were—but Gabi knew what needed to be done. She jettisoned the canopy and unbuckled her seat-belt, detaching the radio cable and oxygen supply. Then, with a final deep and tentative breath, she turned Swallow to a half barrel roll and fell from the cockpit, counting aloud before releasing the cord. The parachute deployed and Gabi was left dangling like dead weight below, clutching her princess cushion as though it would somehow save her from peril. As the wind blew in from the coast, she drifted farther inland and away from Swallow as it careered into the murky waters of the English Channel.
Her landing was rough, knocking the wind from her lungs and sending pain through her head with ferocity. The parachute canopy flew overhead, dragging her along the moorlands, her body scuffing the rough terrain until her weight finally anchored her still. She was alive and unbroken, save for her shoulder that throbbed to a painful beat.
Scrambling to her feet, Gabi released the harness and gathered together the parachute, concealing the canopy in a crevasse. She was light headed and woozy but resisted the urge to lie down in the open. She scanned the landscape for shelter, a rundown shack, weathered grey and most likely uninhabited stood about half a mile away. With princess cushion underarm, Gabi staggered onwards, scrambling over the heather until she reached the derelict barn, where her weary body fell.
“Hello,” said the sweet voice of a child. “Are you hurt?”
The throbbing in her shoulder had eased and Gabi gently hauled herself up and leaned against a bale of hay. “I’ve hurt my shoulder.”
The girl examined the strange woman and her unusual clothing. “Are you the enemy?”
“I’m not your enemy,” Gabi said, her lips arched in a weak but reassuring smile. “What’s your name?”
“Emily.”
“That’s a pretty name. I’m Gabi.”
A dimple appeared on the girl’s ruby cheeks, and she beamed her delight at having made a new friend.
Gabi looked at her watch, grimacing as she raised her arm. It was late in the afternoon and the day’s events had taken their toll on her body, fatigue and nausea sending the barn into a spin. She leaned back against the bale, her chest rising and falling with effort.
The girl moved closer. “Can I help you?”
“I’d like some water please and maybe a cloth or towel?”
“What’s that cross around your neck?”
Gabi touched the medal as if surprised that it was there.
“Do you like it? You can have it if you promise not to tell anyone I’m here. It can be our little secret.”
Emily nodded and knelt beside her. She watched eagerly as Gabi removed her Knights Cross and hand it over.
“Now, you mustn’t show anyone the cross either. Agree?”
Nodding, the girl’s eyes sparkled and she wrapped her nimble fingers around the cross and skipped out of the barn.
A small owl sat on a beam high in the rafters, its golden eyes set on a hole in the wall. It did not move except to blink and Gabi wondered how many mice had fallen prey to its stealth. She waited with the owl, watching the hole, but the mouse did not appear and after a short time, Gabi drifted into an exhausted sleep.
Emily returned twenty minutes later with a pail of water, towel, and a blanket. She knelt down beside her newfound friend, rocking her lightly, but Gabi would not wake, so Emily covered her with the blanket and returned to the house.
“I didn’t see anything, but I did hear something loud fly past this morning. It scared the hell out of me—I thought it was a doodlebug. You’re welcome to search the place,” said the farmer. He motioned towards the yard and the field beyond and the men followed his gesture with their eyes.
“Father, Father…” Emily whispered.
“Not now, Emily. Can’t you see I’m busy?”
“But, Father…”
He glared at her. She backed away, accidentally dropping the Knights Cross onto the wooden floor. It clattered as it hit, catching the attention of everyone in the room. A man bent down to retrieve it.
“Where did you get this?” the man asked.
Emily shrank at his aggression, pinning herself to her father’s side. Another man, an officer, knelt down before the frightened girl.
“It’s all right. You’re not in any trouble. But it’s important that we find the owner of that cross,” the officer said.
“She gave it to me,” Emily blurted back.
“Who gave it to you?”
“My new friend—Gabi’s her name. She hurt her shoulder. She’s asleep now, and I can’t wake her.”
The officer looked over at the other men. “Where is she?” he asked calmly.
“I promised not to tell.”
“If Gabi is not well, we need to take her to the hospital.”
Emily thought for a moment. “She’s in the barn over the hill.”
The men bolted outside, running towards a barn on the edge of a meadow blanketed in cowslip. With pistols drawn, they crept inside.
“She’s here.”
They assembled at the back of the barn where a woman lay, apparently sleeping. The officer lifted the blanket and removed Gabi’s pistol from her hip holster. He checked for breathing.
“She’s alive, but it looks like she’s been shot.”
He unfastened her jacket to examine the wound, removing a cotton scarf soaked with blood and replacing it with the towel Emily had left nearby. He pressed firmly against the wound and Gabi moaned.
“Let’s take her to the base hospital. Go get the lorry.”
They carried Gabi outside and placed her in the back of the lorry. It would not be a comfortable drive and the officer looked about him for something to act as a pillow.
“Mister, Mister, you forgot this.” Emily handed him a blood-stained cushion.
“Isn’t this yours?”
“No, it belongs to Gabi. It needs a wash, though.”
“It does indeed. Thank you.”
The journey took an hour and during this time, the officer removed her jacket as best he could so as not to cause her further pain. The bullet had passed directly through, leaving two open wounds. She let out a faint moan, partially opening her eyes.
“Wasser, bitte.”
He placed a flask on her lips. She clutched the flask and sipped slowly, handing it back and resting her head on something soft. Shaking from shock and in a semi-conscious state, Gabi gazed at the figure leaning over her. His eyes had a familiar glint.