Operation Crucible (633 Squadron) by Frederick E. Smith

Author:Frederick E. Smith [Smith, Frederick E.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Tags: Military Fiction, Historical Fiction
Publisher: Thunderchild Publishing
Published: 2017-11-06T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

Staines and the Brigadier were talking beside the french windows when Davies was shown into the library at High Elms. As the young lieutenant announced him, the American General turned, then gave a wry grin.

“Davies! What the hell are you still doing in uniform? I thought you’d have been sent your dungarees by this time.”

Uncertain what undercurrents might be lying beneath the humour, Davies decided to accept it at face value and ran his eyes over the General’s uniform. “They issue smart dungarees in your outfit, sir.”

Staines grinned again. “We don’t do badly, do we?” He thrust out a big hand. “If you don’t like yours when they arrive, I’ll send you a pair. At least they help morale.”

With the man’s handshake firm, Davies began to feel the interview wasn’t going to be the ordeal he feared. “I’m sorry things went the way they did, sir. But the boys did their best. If it hadn’t been for that one damn shell the operation would have been a complete success.”

Staines dropped his bulk into a chair. “I know that, Davies, and so do my staff. In fact I’ll let you into a secret. I don’t think there’s another unit around that could have done such a precision job. Even getting there undetected was a small miracle.”

Generosity on this scale exceeded Davies’ wildest hopes. At the same time it increased his embarrassment. “Thank you, sir. But I hope it hasn’t made any difficulties for you.”

Staines gave a shrug. “That depends on which side of the fish pond you’re standing. If the Brigadier’s partisans get fifty or so of our boys back, I won’t miss my share of drinks over here when Christmas comes. But if you’ve got Congress in mind, I might not be so popular when Lambert’s finished with me. I had a telex cable this morning saying he’s already done his first hatchet job. And there’s plenty more to come.”

Davies could not hide his dismay. “But won’t your Congressmen take into account the prisoners we’ve freed?”

“The one’s who’re backing us will. But the hawks who want the Japs finished first are going to have a field day. Can’t you see Lambert’s headlines? RAF KILL AMERICAN PILOTS. RECKLESS MISSION TO HUSH CRITICS. Whether we like it or not we’ve given him the chopper to kill the chicken.”

As Davies sank heavily into a chair, the Brigadier’s quiet voice made both men glance at him. “I feel the same responsibility as Davies, General. We can’t undo the accident but you have my word that every effort will be made to get as many men as possible back to the U.K.”

The Texan lifted his big shoulders. “I’m not blaming you. It was a great idea. But now it’s backfired on us, I’m thrown into the ball game myself. If we don’t counter Lambert’s campaign smartly, our entire air strategy over here could be affected.”

Eager to re-burnish his unit’s international reputation, Davies was looking at a large map that was lying folded across the desk.

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