Battle Climb by Richard Townsend Bickers

Author:Richard Townsend Bickers [Bickers, Richard Townsend]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Endeavour Press
Published: 2015-01-06T05:00:00+00:00

TEN

No one was blamed for the loss of a Spitfire and its pilot. Aggression was the epitome of the R.A.F spirit. It was perfectly legitimate for a squadron commander, given permission by his station and group Operations controllers to carry out a battle climb, to enter enemy territory and seek to destroy.

No blame attached to Upton or his No 2, either, for they had been given no warning that the coastal radar system had picked up an enemy aircraft in their area; and they had been doing their job conscientiously: it was the luck of war that a 109 had been lurking where no one could see it.

Nor was Taylor criticised for being bounced in those peculiar circumstances.

The weather continued bad for the rest of the day. The main topic on Maidment’s squadron was whether Roy Taylor had been able, in the poor visibility in which he must have come down, to evade capture. And, if so, what chance he had of being recovered. It was too early in the German occupation of France for a properly organised escape network to have been set up. In the last days of the fighting around the Channel ports during the British evacuation of France, there had been occasions when a Miles Magister, which was a two-seater light monoplane used for training and communications, had been landed across the Channel to fetch a shot-down fighter pilot home. A Tiger Moth could do that sort of job, also. Squadron Leader Maidment and Clive Upton felt guilty about what had happened to Taylor.

“I’ll probably get a rocket from some chairborne warrior at Group for going across to have a look around,” Maidment said.

“But that’s our job,” Upton protested. “I’m a clot for not seeing that blasted one-o-nine. I feel I wasn’t the best possible example of an alert tail end Charlie!”

“If we get word Roy is all right, being hidden by the French, I’ll nip across and fetch him back somehow,” said Maidment.

“Is there any chance that we will get word, if he’s being sheltered?” asked Upton.

“I gather there are ways and means, known only to the Intelligence types; and not for discussion.”

“How soon could we hear, sir?”

“I don’t know. But we’ll hear soon enough if he’s been caught.”

“Could the Navy pick him up?”

“I shouldn’t think they’d be able to get ashore in that area, with the place crowded with the enemy hoping to try an invasion.”

“We’d have to do it by daylight,” Upton said, consideringly. “If there was a full moon, or even close to it, we should be able to land all right in something like a Tiger or a Maggie; but even then there’d be the risk of breaking the undercarriage.”

The squadron leader said: “A quick dart at first light would be best, with a Spitfire escort.”

“I think I ought to do it, sir: Roy was flying in my section, and I was supposed to be keeping a look out.”

“Sorry, Clive: if anybody does it, I will.”

“I can escort you, can’t I, sir?”

Maidment laughed.

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