He didn’t know how
many more 16 hour days he could take. They had been at it for 3 weeks and they
were all running on empty. Just yesterday Collins had slipped and fallen under
the wheels of that grader. Crushed his left foot and messed up his back. You just
can’t work these long hours and not expect to have some major accidents.
The Soviet attacks
weren’t expected until October. At least that was their stated deadline. That
over flight last month was a wakeup call as to how this battle was going to be
different than 1940. The Soviet planes were faster and had the range to reach
all of the British Isles. A huge change in strategy by the RAF was in order.
Yes they would know ahead of time when and where the Soviets would show up but
what did it matter when they could blanket the whole country; a blanket
bristling with guns and bombs.
Thank god they had no
equivalent to the B29 or Lincoln. The Reds were masters of low level combat and
no matter what the papers said about the Spitfires and Meteors advantage in
speed and height the battle would be at low to medium altitudes. The Spit
pilots were going to have to learn to boom and zoom in a Spit. Something they
and the plane were not meant to do. You get into a turning fight at low level
when your outnumbered you will not last long. Not according to his brother in
law, the pilot.
These Reds were a
different kind of animal than the Krauts. He mentioned something about a
special anti-aircraft round that would take care of many a Red pilot. The Brit
fighters were supposed to lay off the initial attacks and let the AA gunners do
their thing because of the possibility of friendly fire problems. The plan was
to catch them before they hit land and then mess with them as they egress. Some
fancy word for heading back home to your base.
He was having many
second thoughts about coming back to England and marrying Betty. Oh he loved
her and all that but it sure would be safer in the good old US of A. It looked
like the Brits were going to fight and at least that was a relief. But were in
the hell were the Yanks? His countrymen were not stepping up to the plate and
from all the newspaper reports they were having trouble finding enough guys to
join up.
Yet every vet he knew
was signing up again. I suppose I’m doing more good here getting these
airfields ready again than going through boot camp and all that paper work.
According to Ma all the neighborhood boys were signing up and had left already
so he sure didn’t know where all this shortage talk was coming from. Maybe it
was a propaganda ploy. If it was then where were they? They weren’t here in
England that’s for sure.
Every night he got
hell in the pub on the subject. “Where are your bloody Yank friends?”. He
didn’t have an answer so he stopped going to the pub. Saved a lot of money but
he missed the old days when everyone treated us like kings. No more though. The
Brits were pissed at us for not coming to their aid.
Oh well that was way
above his pay grade. All he could do is to hang on and do his best at his job.
At least Betty was still the same girl he married and loved him. I guess that’s
about all you can ask for in a war. He was home in bed every night, with a
gorgeous women, who loved him and he loved her. Much better than the last time
he was here. Before they were married he never got past 2nd base and
then he had to go and fight in those god damn hedges.
Holly crap that Limey
idiot is going to tip that crane over.
“BACK IT OFF JACK!
IT’S TOO HEAVY!”
Man that was close.
You just can’t lift something that big without the proper back fill on the
base. I’m glad the CBs trained him well that could have been fatal.
“William get over here and fix the footing for Jack…Thanks
mate.”
Thank god he’s not my
mate. How does he chew his food with those teeth? I don’t see how he can close
his mouth with those teeth pointing every which way. I should have become a
dentist. I could be racking it in here. Maybe not they just seem to have them
pulled. Modern dentistry is not a priority for folks fighting for their lives
and freedom.
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