1445 hours
"...Are we ready, then?" she asked.
"Almost," he said, reaching for something in his pocket.
In his hand was a very small round rubber gasket from the plane. "It's not much, I realize, but given the circumstances, well… I shall remedy it as soon as possible," he promised, hoping beyond hope that when they landed in England, God willing, and he finished his duty, including reporting the devastating information he'd just been given, she'd still love him and want to be with him.
Julia gasped at what he had in his hand. It wasn't much, but the impulsive romantic gesture warmed her heart all the same, and she embraced him again. "I love it, William. I shall keep it even after you get me a real ring...and you best believe you're getting one too!" she warned.
"I'm looking forward to it," he beamed. "The sooner we get going the sooner we can finish."
"Yes, let's get married, Captain Murdoch." She offered him her left hand.
"Indeed, Major Ogden." He placed the gasket on her ring finger.
Saying their goodbyes to the Durand family, he boosted her into the cockpit, climbing into his own seat after she was settled.
Nodding to M. Durand, the farmer came over and rotated the propellers himself, giving her a jaunty salute as he stepped back. Saluting him back, Julia lined the plane up with the makeshift airstrip. Easing back the throttle, the plane quickly picked up speed as it raced down the grass runway.
They both exhaled a breath that neither realized they were holding as the plane lifted off the ground and climbed into the sky. Julia gave out a "Whoop!" and raised her fist in the air.
It worked!
In the sky over the English Channel
1515 hours
William tried to ignore his queasy stomach. He thought Julia, of course, was magnificent. She seemed to be having the time of her life piloting the Ryan-M1 but he'd never been in an airplane of any kind before, and it was frankly terrifying. She was trying out the controls which made for a bit of a carnival ride.
He never liked carnival rides.
Instead, in between navigating, he made himself concentrate on looking around for any German planes who might join them or any anti-aircraft batteries which could so easily pick them off. Behind the plane, the edges of the Normandy landing beaches receded, above was nearly unbroken blue, and below was only water. William used his binoculars to scan as much of the 360 degree horizon he was able to. No doubt that Jerry noticed a small plane taking off from a coastal farm. He hadn't told Julia, but he had also requisitioned a small automatic sidearm and several clips of ammo. He didn't know what good it would do but it did make him feel slightly better. William also knew that the first few minutes as the plane climbed to a flying altitude would likely be the most dangerous part of the mission - still vulnerable to ground fire.
Luckily they were in Allied controlled waters these days, so as the plane leveled out, his stomach eased and he could exhale another sigh of relief. "Julia!" he shouted. "What is your airspeed?" She shouted the answer back, the sound carried and dispersed by the wind.
William took her number, checked his watch and compass and did the calculation: they were far enough over water and likely out of range of any anti-aircraft batteries at this point. The engine still sounded strong. Now his job was to navigate and keep watching the skies for other aircraft. Using the compass and some coordinates of where they'd started, William directed Julia to adjust her bearings a few degrees east. He was starting to enjoy himself when he heard a strange whooshing sound above them.
"William?" Julia asked.
"I don't know. Just fly, I'll look for it," he advised when he heard it again.
Soon after, he heard it again and this time he saw it. It was a strange bird, silver and sleek, with no propellers and flew like lightning. It was hard to get in his binoculars on it before it disappeared.
"Salaud," William swore in French. It was coming naturally to him at this point.
"William?" Julia asked again.
"I don't know, Julia. Just keep flying," he told her. It was hard to sound calm when you had to shout to be heard. The plane streaked by again, and William knew it had to be one of those jet-propelled planes the Germans had been developing. Merde. This was bad.
Praying for Divine Intercession, he cocked his gun, laughing at himself for even thinking that he'd hit something zipping by so fast. He blessed himself, praying for forgiveness and braced for impact or to be blown to smithereens.
He lost the German plane, assuming it must have gone above the clouds and would swoop down again, like a bird playing with its prey. It was disorienting to have to scan above, below and behind for death to show up in a flash. Suddenly he heard a drone that grew louder, and braced for the worse. "Julia, I love…"
"What the hell?" Julia yelled.
William immediately changed gears. "I don't know, Julia, I can't yet see it," he replied when suddenly, he saw it.
Or saw them.
All around them was a squadron of B-17's, surrounding them. Hearing a squawk from the radio, William picked up.
"Union Jack and Maple Leaf, do you copy? On your starboard. This is the Liberty Belle, over," came a long drawl through the radio static.
Willim and Julia saw that to their right, a big plane was coming up, with a topless, buxom pinup suggestively astride a bell. He laughed out loud. So typically American - bold, brash, overtly sexual. Julia let their plane jerk and dance a little, showing her nerves were a bit jangeled.
Realizing that they hadn't named their plane, William improvised. "This is the Lady Julia. Over," he replied. Up front, Julia laughed nervously at first and then louder as she turned the anxiety into energy.
"That's quite the nose art they have," she giggled. "I wonder how they'd like it if I were to paint a nude man on my plane?"
William snorted. The radio crackled again. "You were in some real trouble there, but we scared your friend off. Damn Jerry thought he was sneaky, but we saw him," the radio operator drawled again through com's static.
"Thank you," William exhaled, unclenching his jaw. "I've never seen one of those before, heard about them, but… Over." said William.
"There's not too many but there's been a few. They call 'em Messerschmitts Sturmvogels - I think it means storm bird… It's a hell of a bird, but not enough for the 8th Air Force. RAF Ventnor asked us to keep an eye out for you. You going to RAF Cheddington?"
William was unnerved. So much for my surprise landing. Of course, I never should have thought I would fly into the country quietly. "Yes. Over." he replied. No point in lying.
"Captain says he's assuming you're flying by visual sight rules? Correct? Over."
"Affirmative. And compass. Over." William answered. He reached out to squeeze Julia's shoulder. She turned slightly to kiss his hand. There was a long pause before the radio operator came back.
"Lady Julia. Captain says he's going to escort you there so you don't run into any more trouble.. Just follow us - we'll get you there faster. Over."
"Copy. Over." William relaxed fractionally more. "Julia, just follow the Liberty Belle. They're escorting us to Cheddington, we should be home free," he squeezed her shoulder again, thinking this flying thing was actually O.K.
The landing gear… he wondered if there was a patron saint of aviators he could pray to.