‘Take cover – take cover, Stukas sighted coming towards Tangmere – take cover.’
Chapter 10
Fitz ran towards the air raid bunker. Ground crew were scattering across the concrete desperate to get to the shelter. The roar of aircraft engines overhead was deafening. Fitz looked up to the sky and gasped in horror at the sight of three German Ju 87 ‘Stuka’ dive bombers heading straight for their airfield.
Everything else happened in such a blur and frenzy, Fitz had barely time to register it all. Bombs were being dropped all over the airfield. There were huge explosions from the hangars and great balls of black smoke billowed into the sky.
The Stukas were diving down, dropping their cargo of incendiaries before swooping back up into the sky, turning and lining up for another attack.
‘Take cover!’ shouted a voice and someone shoved her in the shoulder. She realised she had come to a complete halt as she surveyed the carnage around her. She was shoved again and this time she began to run for the bomb shelter.
Explosions rang out all around her, the noise deafening her momentarily. Debris flew up in the air and crashed back down onto the airfield.
As Fitz raced across the tarmac towards the shelter, she cursed herself for wearing heels and a skirt which only slowed her progress. She could hear the change in the engine noise of the Stukas, the rumble turning into a wail as the aircraft dived downwards before releasing their bombs.
There was the sound of a huge explosion behind her and an almighty force punched her in the back, sending her crashing down onto the concrete. She couldn’t breathe. It felt like someone was standing on her chest, crushing the air from herlungs. All around her the noise was muffled. She could still hear the Stukas but they sounded distant and far away. She managed to roll onto her side, releasing the pressure that was constricting her ribcage and she gasped for breath. She’d been winded. With a rush her senses burst back into life.
She could smell smoke and burning, hear the Stukas clearly again and she could hear groaning. She looked around. There, only a few yards away from her, was an engineer sprawled out on the ground. His left ankle was at an impossible angle and must be broken.
Fitz managed to get to her hands and knees and then her feet. She could hear the enemy aircraft approaching for another bombing run. She and the engineer were right in their path.
Adrenaline overtook her and she ran towards the prone body of the engineer. From somewhere, Fitz had no idea where exactly, another engineer came running over and they reached the injured man at the same time.
‘You get one side,’ shouted the man. ‘I’ll go the other.’
Together they hauled the semi-conscious engineer up and hooked his arms over their shoulders.
The scream of the Stuka was getting louder and closer by the second. ‘Quick!’ shouted Fitz.
They somehow managed to get themselves and the injured man to the safety of the air-raid shelter just as the next cargo of bombs were despatched across the airfield.
The attack lasted less than ten minutes but the damage was immense. After the noise had abated and the Stukas had turned for one final time away from the airfield, Fitz could hear the sound of people shouting and emergency-vehicle sirens wailing. And then came the all-clear sound.
Fitz was out of the bomb shelter in no time. She squinted as she came out into the light. All around her was carnage. There wasbarely anything left of the airfield. Buildings were on fire, the hangars ablaze as the fire crew attempted to put out the flames. Someone shouted that the sick quarters had taken a direct hit. She could see the chimney breast had collapsed and standing amongst the rubble, up to his waist in debris, was Dr Lloyd.
Fitz sprinted over to the sick quarters and scrambled over the rubble of bricks and mortar, tiles and debris to help the doctor escape.
‘Are you all right, Doctor?’ she asked. ‘Your head’s bleeding.’
Lloyd whipped a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at his forehead. ‘Just a scratch,’ he said. With that he began issuing orders to the service personnel to set up an emergency sick bay so he could treat the injured.
Fitz’s ears were still ringing from the bombing, but spurred on by Lloyd’s dedication she set about helping to salvage as much equipment from the bombed sick bay as she could find. At least she was doing something tangible and it helped stop her thinking about Sam.
It wasn’t until sometime later, when Dr Lloyd was treating a pilot who had been shot down, that Fitz took a moment to catch her breath.
She looked up to the sky. All she wanted to see was the British Hurricanes flying back to land. She wanted Sam to be home. But the sky was silent. Fitz spent an agonising thirty minutes waiting for any sign of 601 Squadron. Helping the doctor set up an emergency room was a good distraction and when she finally heard the sound of the Hurricanes returning to base, her heart was leaping around inside her chest like a Jack in the box.
She stood out on the apron of the airfield watching the planes come in to land. Some on their own and some in pairs. Certainly not the formation they went out in.
She silently prayed they would all make it back to base safely. There had been several deaths today and a sombre mood cloaked the airfield. Their families and loved ones would soon be delivered the tragic news and their lives would never be the same again. She knew that feeling all too well.
And then Fitz saw Sam’s plane, she recognised the number on the side, and she thought her legs were going to give way with relief. A fresh swell of tears gathered in her eyes, but she brushed them away. And yet, in a strange way, she felt guilty being relieved and, yes, happy, that Sam was safe.
And then came the anger. Unexpected and roaring like an inferno. She hated being put through this emotional wringer. She couldn’t cope with it. She’d experienced loss before, and she had been on the brink of experiencing it again. The feeling of utter helplessness was excruciating. The fear overwhelming
There was no way she could cope with this. She had dropped her defences and the fear that brought was unbearable. She couldn’t put herself in that position again. Wouldn’t allow it. She had to put a stop to it now before it was too late. She thought of her mother, and Betty and Johnny. She’d cared about them, and they were a constant and painful reminder of what could lie ahead for her if something was to happen to Sam. It only hurt because she cared. If she didn’t care, then there’d be no pain. It was that simple.
She watched Sam’s plane taxi its way through the bombed-out airstrip. Red flags had been placed to warn them of unexploded incendiaries and craters in the tarmac.
