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|The Pilot (standard:romance, 3575 words)|
|Author: Tim Callaway||Added: Aug 01 2002||Views/Reads: 2308/856||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|Squadron Leader Jimmy Barrett is killed in action just before the birth of his son. Jimmy's love ensures that he is always there for his son and wife, Evelyn. A real supernatural tear jerker!|
The Pilot A short story by Tim Callaway. Squadron Leader Jimmy Barrett placed his Spitfire Mark 5 into a steep dive ready to attack the retreating German supply line on the straight French road beneath. It was November 1944 and the Allies were sweeping their way through occupied France towards the Rhine and they almost had total command of the air. Jimmy Barrett released his rockets and they struck a supply truck and a Tiger Tank following up behind. The exploding ammunition, fuel and supplies pushed a great cloud of acrid smoke and shrapnel into the air and Jimmy pulled back firmly on his joystick to raise the nose of his plane towards safety. He smiled in victory and searched for his next target. Evelyn Barrett, then eight months pregnant, sat in her favourite chair within the pleasant surroundings of their small cottage situated at the end of RAF Benham's runway. She pondered the safety of her husband, carefully sipping her tea from a mug, as she dreaded each of his wartime missions. Evelyn knew that her husband was risking his life for King and Country and she did not have a problem with this potential danger. Her greatest fear was to be made a widow before the birth of their first child. She rose slowly from her chair as the baby was kicking within her womb and moved towards the window. Evelyn pulled back the heavy curtains to check the sky for planes. She knew the registration number of Jimmy's plane by heart and she ached to see his plane come into land intact. Evelyn reluctantly sat once more to read a chapter from her book to pass the time. "PK5 to base." "Come in PK5 - this is fighter command," spoke a crackling voice through Jimmy's headphones. "I have three rockets left, any suggestions?" Jimmy asked predicting the answer. "Shoot anything German that moves! Good hunting PK5!" Jimmy tipped his port wing to check the landscape below. The autumn sunshine caused numerous reflections from both water and glass beneath. A particular reflection caught his eye. He dived for a closer look. In front of his plane travelling at some speed was a single German staff car carrying a single, decorated officer in the rear seat. The car was unescorted and appeared to be making a break for the safety of the German lines some 40 kilometres ahead. "Oh, no you don't, matey!" Jimmy passed over the car firing bursts of cannon fire from his eight Browning machine guns. Dust and mud flew up into the air around the car and the vehicle started to zigzag to avoid further damage. Jimmy banked his plane for a final rocket attack and prepared to pass once more over the defenceless open top staff car. Suddenly he heard the unmistakable sound of a jet engine as a Meschersmitt ME262 passed close to his starboard wing. Jimmy knew he could not outrun the jet fighter but his manoeuvrability could provide his only means of escape. Forgetting the staff car he took evasive action to lose the German fighter but his enemy kept firmly behind his Spitfire no matter what he chose to do. Cannon shells exploded into his plane shattering the canopy and puncturing the fuel tanks. Keeping his nerve Jimmy pulled his joystick firmly to the right and pulled back hard pulling at least 2 Gs. He managed to put some distance between the two planes and prepared to fight back on a collision course to test the metal of his German opponent. Double cannon fire shattered the air as shells struck both planes. Jimmy hit one of the jet engines and smoke emerged from the damaged turbines but his own engine was struck causing a noticeable loss of power and rather too much smoke for his liking. The wings tips touched breaking small sections off both planes. Jimmy started to lose control as his plane faltered beneath him. He searched the ground for a place to crash land but could see nowhere through the flapping material that was the remnants of his own parachute. Bailing out was not an option landing was the only choice, but where? Evelyn picked up the telephone and dialled the control room. Click here to read the rest of this story (339 more lines)
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