Eleven Eleven - By Paul Dowswell Page 0,22

was going to do when he got home, and the terrible row he would have with his father when he announced that he wanted to study to go to college. Heaton wanted to be a teacher. English literature. It was the thing he loved the most. Far in the distance he thought he could see a group of soldiers. He called out, ‘Sergeant Franklin,’ but they were too far away to hear. He called again to no avail and had began to run towards them when a sniper’s bullet caught him square on the forehead, throwing him off his feet and twisting him round as he fell. Private Heaton was dead before his body collapsed like a discarded doll on to the ground.

CHAPTER 9

8.00 a.m.

Eddie Hertz slept late – a rare luxury as he was often up before first light to fly the dawn patrol. Today he was off the roster. As he came to, the first thing he noticed was the scent of Céline’s perfume and he felt a stab of loneliness.

Eddie didn’t really believe her scarf would keep him safe, but he liked the idea of having something of hers so close to him. His fellow pilots were crazy about their rituals and superstitions. Some of them even took a cat up with them. Biederbeck had a black one – the classic witch’s familiar – but Eddie thought it was cruel to the poor animal. What would happen if it got stuck under your feet or was so terrified it wanted to jump out?

He threw on his clothes and splashed his face at the basin by the window. It was a short walk to the mess at the airbase, and if he hurried he’d be in time for breakfast.

Biederbeck was there, still in his flying gear, black soot on his face with an incongruous white patch around his eyes where he had removed his goggles.

‘Hey, Eddie,’ he shouted over. ‘Guess what I’ve been up to!’ He looked exceedingly pleased with himself.

‘Another notch on the propeller, huh?’ said Eddie. ‘Was it a Fokker? What does your cat think about that?’

‘Better than that, pal! I got one of those ammunition trains. About two in the morning. Saw it coming into this little town near to Mons. The smoke in the moonlight gave it away – so I came in low and dropped a couple of twenty-five-pounders. I’d like to tell you it was my skill and judgement –’ he winked, a habit Eddie was beginning to find irritating – ‘but I got lucky. Very lucky. The bombs had their usual delay, and as I was flying away I heard an explosion, then about ten seconds later the whole thing erupted like a volcano. The crate felt like it had been picked up by a wave. If I’d been just above, I’d have been fried along with all the Huns below.

‘Course, I circled around to check out the damage. Bright as day it was for a while. Then some of the Huns started on me with machine guns so I got out of there pretty damn quick.’

‘So you’re the one who disturbed my good night’s sleep,’ said Eddie.

Their conversation was interrupted by another airman, who burst into the mess with a delighted expression on his face. ‘Hold the front page, fellas. I got the scoop of the century!’

Biederbeck and Eddie looked at him expectantly. ‘War’s over!’ he announced breathlessly. ‘The whole shooting match ends at eleven o’clock this morning. Ceasefire!’

The mess erupted in a great cheer. ‘We’re done, boys. We’re all going to live,’ said one of the pilots.

Eddie cheered along with the rest of them. But something was bothering him. As he ate his bacon and scrambled eggs, he felt a twinge of disappointment. He’d got four Huns. You needed five to call yourself an ace. He’d love to go back home and have his picture in the paper: Eddie Hertz – fighter ace. That would make Janie Holland wish she hadn’t dumped him.

‘I’m going out to bag myself a Hun,’ he told Biederbeck.

‘Squadron leader won’t allow it, Eddie. There’s no operations now for the rest of the day.’

Another pilot leaned over from the next table. ‘That attack they told us about at yesterday’s briefing – Colonel Miller’s 91st Division. Going in at Aulnois this morning.’

Eddie looked blank. Then he remembered. ‘Ten o’clock, isn’t it?’

‘I’d guess they could do with some air support,’ said the pilot.

‘They’ll call that assault off surely,’ said Eddie, suddenly feeling deflated.

The pilot shook his head.