The checkerboard pattern of dark green fields interspersed with patches of forest opened up below me as I broke through the low overcast at about 2000 feet. I glanced behind me and saw the rest of my squadron, or at least most of them, emerge from the low clouds. I was two planes short because of aborts. But that was better than the 793rd which I saw about a mile in front of us, they had lost 4 aircraft due to aborts. The 795th was in even worse shape, they were 5 short, 4 aborts and one plane that had blown a tire and skidded off the runway on takeoff. From the glimpse I got as had taken off it looked like she had had collapsed a main landing gear which meant there was going to be major damage to the aircraft. I looked behind me and saw the 795th just emerging from the clouds, a quick count assured me they hadn't lost anymore aircraft.
My girls were closing up the formation and I started concentrating on the landscape below us. I recognized a small river flowing by a little village; that meant Spilsby should be about five miles in front of us and just a touch to the north. I checked the squadron; they were all tucked back into our loose combat formation so I banked us slightly to set us on the course home.
We had been operational a little over three weeks but the miserable English weather had limited our missions, this was only the seventh mission in those weeks. And of those seven this was the fourth mission aborted before we even got to the coast of France. I didn't relish the reception I and the rest of the group were going to get from Buffy when we got back, I glanced behind me but couldn't spot her; she was flying with Tammy's squadron today. She was going to be so pissed, and I couldn't blame her, eleven aircraft out of forty-eight, almost a quarter of our group aborting the mission was bad – really bad.
Up ahead I noticed a column of black smoke rising from the ground, a minute later we flashed over a burning wreck. I saw several trucks and a jeep were parked nearby, from Spilsby I was sure, and could make out the tail of a P-38 jutting from the wreck. Shit! Somebody hadn't made it back; it had to be one of the planes that had aborted. From the looks of the wreckage I didn't think whoever it was had made it out. God I hoped it wasn't Sherry or Michelle, my two girls that had aborted. Chatter started up on the radio as people started speculating who it was, then Buffy's voice cut through it, "Silence!"
The chatter instantly ceased. The field was in front of us and we started to orbit as the 793rd went into the landing pattern. Fifteen minutes later we were on the ground and I taxied into my revetment and shut her down. Mac, my crew chief, was up on the wing leaning in the open canopy to help me get unfastened as soon as the engines stopped, "Who went in?" I asked.
He shook his head, "Someone from the 795th, I haven't heard who."
"Did they get out?"
His eyes caught mine, "I don't think so… we didn't see any signs of a chute. Tony said he saw her as she came through the clouds, she was in a spin and one engine was out and the other was racing and she went almost straight in, I could hear the engine racing from inside the hanger."
Damn it! This would be our third fatality since we'd gotten to England. The 793rd and the 795th had each lost one pilot during our fourth mission, the second that hadn't been aborted, when we ran into German fighters for the first time. We'd claimed four kills and three probables and a couple damaged in trade for the two we lost and some damage to three of our planes, including one minor wound but Cherry was already back with us. The scar on her cheek would fade with time, but nobody had a problem telling the twins apart any more.
The Red Cross had confirmed the two we had lost had been killed, one died in the crash of her plane and the other had made it out but died from her wounds. Lord Haw-haw had been upbraiding the AAF for being so desperate that we were sacrificing untrained women. He sort of ignored the fact that the 'untrained women' had shot down more Germans than we lost, but we still didn't like the exchange ratio.
I climbed down from my plane and headed toward the headquarters Quonset. Our field at Spilsby had been put up in record time by the army corps of engineers. On one side of the runway we had three oversized Quonset huts for use as hangers; each was big enough to get four P-38s in them at one time. They were in constant use but even so most of the routine maintenance had to be done outside, not a fun job in the miserable English winter weather. Surrounding the field were the revetments for the aircraft, three sided rectangles of dirt about ten feet high and just large enough to hold a P-38.
On the opposite side of the runway, in gaps between the revetments, were four scattered groups of smaller Quonset huts, the largest group at the mid-point of the runway and opposite the hangers had five of the huts. One hut was the headquarters hut with the group and squadron offices, towering over it was the airfield control tower. Another hut had a couple more offices but was mostly one large room we used for briefings and training lectures. A third hut housed the base supply depot, at least the supplies that weren't stored in the hangers, and of course the ordnance was stored in bunkers at the far ends of the runway. The other two huts were barracks huts for the group officers, the enlisted personnel attached to the group, and the airfield security detachment. The other three groups of huts spaced down the runway each contained three barracks huts that were the quarters for the squadron personnel.
Set back from the runway about 100 yards behind the headquarters huts was the last group of three huts, one was the base kitchen and the other two were the enlisted and officer clubs. There were three large tents that were supposed to be used as mess tents but with the weather so miserable we weren't using them, everyone was eating either in the clubs or back in their barracks.
Each of the barracks Quonset huts had a large room that took up the first two thirds of the hut. Then there were six small rooms, three on each side, for officers and senior enlisted personnel. Each of them could hold two people although Buffy and I and the other squadron commanders each had a private room. At the end of the back end of the building was a single communal head, reached by the hallway running between the small rooms. There were six showers across the back wall, a half dozen commodes down one side and the same number of urinals down the other (grossly underutilized in the female quarters), and a pair of double sided trough sinks in the middle of the room.
The buildings had been thrown up in a hurry and they tended to leak in the soggy weather and they didn't heat well, especially the open barracks rooms, even with the coal stoves going night and day. The hot water supply was limited so most of the time the showers were cold. We had work crews trying to fix the huts, patch the leaks and seal out the drafts and other problems, but the work was going slowly.
The layout was the standard layout the AAF had developed for the airfields it was building all over England. At least that was the way the base was designed, we weren't using them quite that way. The problem was the mixture of male and female personnel. With all the female pilots we took four of the huts and the hundred or so female enlisted were in the barracks rooms of those huts. All the male personnel of the group were crammed into the seven remaining huts, overcrowding the barracks rooms even when we crammed four people into each of the small rooms. I had heard some grumblings among the troops, the men were not happy being crowded together and were starting to resent what they saw as the 'cushy' treatment the female enlisted were getting.
As I walked toward the headquarters building I saw Buffy coming from the other direction, by her stride I knew I was right, she was one pissed off Slayer. Tammy was following a couple of paces behind her, her head hanging down. She was at the foot of the steps when Buffy went through the door, slamming it behind her so hard that for a moment I thought the whole door might come right off the end of the hut. Tammy jerked her head up at the sudden loud noise and stopped with one foot on the step and the other on the ground; I was only about ten feet away from her and reached her before she moved. I reached out and put a hand on her shoulder, "Who was it?"
Her head snapped around and she looked at me in confusion for a moment, and then comprehension came to her eyes along with a slight glistening of suppressed tears, "Paula Simpson."
I nodded, one of the pilots with about the fewest hours of anyone except for the twins, "You know she's not really pissed at you."
Tammy looked toward the door Buffy had gone through and then back to me, "Oh yes she is!"
I thought to dissuade her but then shrugged and reluctantly I nodded in agreement, "Okay… but it's not just you…"
"Excuse me sir," a voice said from behind me and I saw Sarah Harkens.
I nodded to her, "Lieutenant," and we moved to the side so she could get past us. Sarah was Buffy's assistant and wingman, officially I was the group XO but Buffy wanted me to spend my time with the squadron so she had Sarah as her assistant and for all intents acting as the XO. When she flew it was as Buffy's wingman, something I thought we would need to change pretty soon. When operations picked up we weren't going to want to be flying both of them at the same time.
She nodded to us as she headed up the stairs and into the building. When we were alone again Tammy spoke before I could, "And she has every right to be pissed at me – five planes out of sixteen aborted and two of them crashed! Jesus, I'm pissed at myself!"
"Tammy, there are going to be accidents… we're flying much too close to the edge, not that we have any choice, but we're going to lose a lot of people to accidents."
"Yeah, but not this bad! I just don't understand what is going on with the squadron… with all the squadrons I think… they just aren't coming together!"
From the Quonset hut I heard Buffy's voice yell out, "Lieutenant! I want all the squadron COs, Gunderson, the squadron maintenance officers and the senior maintenance sergeant of each squadron in my office in… twenty minutes!"
I could hear Sarah respond, "Yes sir!" and then she was coming through the door at a run.
As she came down the stairs I said, "We heard."
"Thank you sir… by your leave?"
"Carry on Lieutenant."
I turned back to Tammy, "Captain, let's go get ourselves some coffee before the shit hits the fan."
Tammy nodded in agreement, "Yes sir."
Twenty minutes later we were all in Buffy's office, Helen Carson the 793rd squadron CO, me, Tammy, First Sergeant Gunderson the group senior NCO, Betty Greene the 793rd maintenance officer, Cherry McMillan my maintenance officer, and Dolores Koenig the 795ths maintenance officer. Trying to be inconspicuous in a corner of the office were Mac, Logan, and Rauch, the senior maintenance sergeants in each of the squadrons.
In reality Cherry and Sherry shared the duties of maintenance officer in my squadron; Cherry was a 'hands on' type and loved to work with the guys learning as much as she could about the workings of our planes. Sherry was meticulous with the paperwork; the two of them worked well together and made a competent maintenance officer. I didn't know, and I wasn't going to ask, how they decided who was coming to this meeting but I figured whoever it was had lost the coin flip or whatever they used to decide. I couldn't imagine wanting to be here.
Buffy was behind her desk, her expression neutral but I could see the anger blazing deep in her eyes. I noticed the sign on the front of the desk, 'Lt Col B. A. Summers' and kept my expression neutral but it still pleased me. Buffy had the group organized and in England by the end of December, we went active the 28th, three days ahead of General Richardson's requested date. The day we went active he was at the field pinning the silver oak leaves of a Lieutenant Colonel onto Buffy, the youngest Lieutenant Colonel in the Army Air Forces. After a couple of minutes of letting us stew she spoke, "Alright people, can someone explain to me what the fuck is going on around here?"
Everybody looked around but no one spoke, finally I decided I had to say something, "Sir, the conditions are tough…"
"I don't care how tough the conditions are! Too many fucking mistakes are being made! Why!"
Gunderson spoke up, "Sir… the squadrons just aren't jelling… people are…"
"People are what?!" Buffy snapped.
"People aren't doing their best… instead they're trying to cover their asses…" Helen put in.
"Why?" There was silence, nobody wanted to respond; Buffy leaned back in her chair and looked at everyone, "Is this experiment going to fail?"
"No sir!" several of us said in unison.
"Then what the hell are we going to do about it? Listen people, I want the truth as you see it, no one is going to jump on you for what you think!" Buffy looked over at the maintenance sergeants trying to be inconspicuous in the corner, "That includes you guys, get over here and contribute!"
Mac looked around and I caught his eye and jerked my head, he stepped out of the corner and the other two came with him. Reluctantly he started to speak, "Yes sir… It's just that…"
Buffy looked at him steadily, "Relax, Sergeant, just say what you think."
"The men… the men resent all the privileges the women get…"
"Go on, Sergeant."
"You… we've got all these junior women, most aren't even PFCs yet. They've got to train them and at the same time they've got the good quarters… they aren't falling all over each other…"
With the damn broken the talk went on for the next twenty minutes but it all boiled down to the same thing, the ground crewmen, in general, thought the women had it easy. The women didn't seem to know how to act, some were flirts and others tried to be 'one of the guys', but however the men acted they seemed to be getting into trouble for behaving inappropriately. I'd seen it a couple times, NCOs chewing their men out or giving them the dirty jobs because of the way they acted around the women. A lot of things came up, some that I hadn't been aware of, but no one was coming up with any solutions, other than everyone needed to keep a better handle on things. I could tell Buffy wasn't satisfied but after a while we'd exhausted the subject, nothing new was being brought up and no one was coming up with any real solutions.
Finally she held up her hand, "Okay people - thank you for your honesty. We're going to have to make some changes around here, this can't continue… I'll have to think on it for a while. You're dismissed."
Before anyone could leave Sarah spoke up, "Sir?"
Buffy looked over at where she had been standing at the side of the office, "Yes Lieutenant?"
"Sir, since everyone's back early maybe this afternoon would be a good time for the Article 15s?"
Article 15s, non-judicial punishment hearings, were held when people did something wrong that didn't warrant a court-martial but were more significant than could be handled by a simple reprimand. Sometimes it also involved having to determine exactly what happened and how it should be handled. I knew it wasn't one of Buffy's favorite duties; in fact she tried to avoid it as much as possible.
Buffy scowled, "How many have we got?"
"I've got paperwork for six, sir."
Helen spoke up, "I've got another one I'd like handled if you're going to do them today sir; the paperwork is in my desk."
Buffy grimaced and shook her head slightly, "Shit… I guess today is screwed up enough as it is, might as well get them out of the way." She glanced at her watch, "Okay, get everybody here at 1300 and we'll get them taken care of."
"Yes sir," we all chorused and headed for the door.
"Squadron COs, I want you here for the Article 15s whether your people are involved or not!" she called out.
Tammy, Helen, and I exchanged a quick look before I turned back to her, "Yes sir."
The Article 15s had gone about as expected, Buffy doling out extra duty to most of the offenders, busting one Corporal back to PFC for sleeping through reveille and missing formation after a wild night at the local pubs. It bothered me that four of the other five cases all involved conflicts between male and female personnel, a couple complaints by women about 'abuse' that amounted mostly to an NCO swearing at them like they would male personnel. Unfortunately calling a female private a 'fucking cunt' had more connotations to it than when the same phrase was used with a male private.
In one case Buffy gave the offender eight hours of extra duty but in the other, a case where the Corporal had been addressing four ground crewmen he'd caught goofing off, of whom one happened to be female, Buffy let him off with a warning and admonished the woman to grow a thicker skin, 'she was in the fucking army now.' I was wondering if Buffy would have even given the first Corporal the extra duty if the two cases had come in the other order.
The last case involved two privates who had been caught peeping into the head of one of the women's barracks and watching a female private take a shower. Sherry McMillan had caught them up on a ladder looking in the sky light. They claimed they were just doing their assigned job, trying to fix some leaks in the Quonset hut's roof, which was true enough. But Sherry had watched them looking through the window for a couple of minutes before she broke it up.
Under Buffy's questioning they admitted that they might have been looking longer than was necessary for a leak they couldn't find, but they maintained they were just trying to do their job. I could tell by their sullen expressions that whatever Buffy did they weren't going to think it was fair. This was going to be just one more thing to drive a wedge between the male and female personnel; I had a feeling most of the men in the group were going to sympathize with them. And the women in the group were going to be indignant about having peeping toms around. In the end Buffy gave the two men eight hours extra duty patching roof leaks but with explicit instructions to advise the Charge of Quarters for any female barracks before they worked on them.
Buffy dismissed us but as we were heading out I heard her talking to Sarah, "Lieutenant, have we got an extra copy of the base layout map?"
"Yes Colonel, I've got half a dozen of them and can get more if needed."
"Good, get me one…" then the door closed and cut off the conversation.
An hour later I was working in my office when there was a rap on my door, I looked up to see Sarah Harkens standing in the doorway, "Sorry to disturb you Major - but the Colonel wants all personnel in hanger 1 at 1600."
"All personnel?" I said glancing at my watch, it was 1530.
"Everybody in the group, sir, you're to make sure your squadron is there."
"Thank you, Lieutenant."
There were just over eight hundred personnel in the group in England, another two hundred and fifty or so were stateside with the 796th. Cramming us all into hanger 1 was going to pack it pretty full. I got my jacket and headed out to find my squadron.
Half an hour later and hanger 1 was filling up, the three planes that had been inside it were on the apron in front of the hanger, tarps covering the open panels. The low overcast had dropped even more and it was already darkening, in another half hour it would be night, having the planes out there wasn't much of a risk.
At the back of the hanger a bunch of fifty-five gallon oil drums had been set up, planks laid on top of them and then half a dozen sheets of plywood, creating a raised stage eight feet deep and over twenty feet wide. Buffy was standing on the front edge of the stage looking out over the crowd that was filling the hanger. Beside her a large easel was set up, I recognized it as one of the ones we used for mission briefings; a cloth was covering whatever was on it. There was a murmur going through the crowd as people speculated what this was going to be about.
Buffy's voice rang out, "Gunderson! Is that everyone?"
I heard Gunderson yell back from near the hanger doors, "Almost, Colonel!"
Thirty seconds later a final group of men came running in, shaking water off of their clothes. Gunderson's voice echoed around the hanger again, "That's it Colonel!"
"Close up the doors, First Sergeant!" With a rumble the hanger doors closed the last couple of feet. Even though the hanger was unheated with over eight hundred people crammed into it the chill in the air was rapidly leaving. Buffy called, "Squadron COs, XOs, and Group Department Officers and assistants, up here with me!"
We all clambered up on the stage; soon there were over a dozen of us up on the stage, lined up a couple feet back from the front edge. All of the squadron COs and XOs were women, but the group department officers and their assistants were all male, it was a statement of some kind that when we were up on stage all the women were on Buffy's left and all the men were on her right. And I didn't think it was a good statement, it seemed to emphasize the divisions within the group. Standing beside me was my XO Sally Metcalf; she leaned toward me and whispered, "Skipper, what's going on?"
I shook my head slightly, "I'm not sure, but the CO is not happy."
Once everyone was on the stage with Buffy she turned her attention back to the crowd in front of her. The murmuring quickly quieted until the hanger was almost silent, a good comment on the respect they held her in if she could quiet over 800 soldiers with just her presence on the stage. She looked over the crowd for several moments and then Buffy's voice rang out, clear and amazingly powerful, she was putting quite a bit of Slayer into it, "WHO ARE WE?!"
After a moment there was a feeble yell back "101st!"
"I CAN'T HEAR YOU!"
"101st!" came back again, better but still not great.
Buffy looked out over the crowd, in a strong voice that easily carried throughout the hanger she said, "I talked to every one of you before we came over here. Each of you said you wanted to be a part of this! Do you still want to be a part of the 101st?!"
After a moment a yell came back, "YES!"
Buffy nodded, "People, we've got problems and they have to be solved. NOW! There is no excuse for what happened today! We lost a pilot that we should never have lost! And we had almost a quarter of our force abort before we even got across the channel! I don't know how many we would have lost if we had actually run into some krauts!"
Silence filled the hanger as Buffy paused to survey the room; then she continued, "The problem is that we aren't jelling as a group. The squadrons aren't coming together. We aren't coming together because we are too broken up. That is ending today!"
Again she paused, looking over the audience for a couple of moments. I was watching her closely and she seemed to be steeling herself. The murmur of voices was increasing as she stood there; finally she seemed to brace herself, "SILENCE!" The hanger went quiet, after another moment she said in a voice everyone could hear, "Strip!"
What the hell was asking? Then I saw her shrug her shoulders and let her leather jacket drop to the stage at her feet, the sound of voices was filling the hanger now, people yelling and shouting in confusion. Buffy's voice cut through the din, her voice was so loud it hurt my ears; she was letting her Slayer out, "SILENCE! I SAID STRIP! THAT MEANS STRIP! ANYBODY THAT'S GOT A STITCH OF CLOTHING ON THEM SIXTY SECONDS FROM NOW IS ON REPORT!"
Buffy reached to her neck and pulled her tie away from her throat and then out from under her collar. She glanced at us, standing stunned on the stage beside her, her voice was loud in the silence but not as loud as before, "I said strip! That includes you!"
She was unbuttoning her uniform shirt as everyone stared at her in shock; she stopped undressing, "DAMN IT PEOPLE, I'M THE CO HERE! AS FAR AS I KNOW WHEN I GIVE AN ORDER IT IS TO BE OBEYED! ANYBODY DOUBT THAT?"
Finally I shook myself out of my shock, I had no idea what the hell Buffy thought she was doing but I wasn't going to be the one to abandon her. "NO SIR!" I shouted.
Then I shrugged out of my leather jacket and started pulling off my tie. I tried not to look around as the other people around me started undressing. Buffy turned back to the men on the hanger floor in front of the stage, "MOVE IT PEOPLE! YOU'VE GOT ONE MINUTE TO GET OUT OF THOSE CLOTHES! AND IF YOU AREN'T YOU ARE NOT GOING TO LIKE THE CONSEQUENCES!"
I kept an eye on Buffy as I kicked off my shoes and started unbuttoning my shirt. Thirty seconds later I was concentrating on the floor as I slipped my panties over my hips and let them drop. Quietly I heard Buffy, "Don't act embarrassed, people, you are still their leaders."
I raised my head and looked over at her; she was standing on the edge of the stage with nothing on, looking at us. I glanced down the row of officers beside me and saw everyone was nude, a couple of them were shuffling their feet nervously but they stopped and tried to stand still. I looked past Buffy and saw the male officers on the other side of her were also nude. A couple of them were looking at us appraisingly and I felt myself start to blush, then I realized they were just as nude as I was, I looked back at them frankly and I could see them look away from me.
I saw Buffy turn back to the crowd that filled the hanger and I looked out over it, trying to ignore the fact that I didn't have a stitch of clothing on. I saw a sea of white and pasty flesh, not a very attractive sight and certainly not sexually stimulating in any way. Buffy was standing on the stage facing the crowd, her legs slightly apart and her hands on her hips, she was looking sharply over the crowd. Then her voice rang out, "Sergeant McCauley! Loose those boxers or you're going to be doing KP in your own mess hall."
I followed her gaze and saw McCauley hastily drop his boxers, the senior mess sergeant's body showed his love of food so I couldn't see where it made any difference; the rolls of fat concealed everything.
The sound coming from the crowd was growing; I started to hear some whistles and cat calls when Buffy's voice silenced them, "Listen up people!"
She looked out over the crowd, then took her hands off her hips and pointed to her breasts, "These are breasts! They are considered a secondary sexual characteristic of the human female. You probably refer to them more often as boobs, tits, jugs, melons, or bazooms."
Buffy moved her hand until she was pointing at her pussy, "This is the 'mons veneris' and between my legs is my vagina, these make up the primary sexual characteristic of the human female, you have a lot of other names for it: pussy, cunt, snatch, twat, or bearded oyster." She turned to the man standing beside her, Lieutenant Hickam the intelligence officer, and pointed at his half erect penis, "This is a penis and hanging under it are his balls, the primary sexual characteristic of a human male, I usually call it a cock, although I've been known to use other terms like prick, dick, or joystick."
Buffy turned back to the audience, "Now everybody look around, I'll bet you that every one of you has either one set or the other. Let me know if anyone sees something different!"
There was some mumblings and shuffling in the crowd, Buffy's attention was attracted to some giggles coming from the crowd of female officers off to one side of the stage. I noticed that every female officer except for those of us up here on the stage were clustered together in a circle, all facing inward with only an occasional head turning to look at the men around them. The female enlisted weren't in one group, they were scattered in small groups throughout the crowd, clusters of them in a sea of men.
Buffy evidently didn't like that, her voice cut through the rising murmur, "Squadron officers, inspect your men!" I looked over at her and she quickly turned to us, "Not you, you all stay up here on the stage."
She turned back to the pilots who were all looking up at her, "Yes ladies that means you! Get out there and check your personnel, I want to know if anyone out there doesn't have either a cock or a pussy and breasts!"
Buffy glared down at them and after a moment the group started breaking up, the women moving through the crowd of surrounding men. Buffy watched the crowd for a couple of minutes and then her voice cut through the rising noise; "Is there anyone out there without either a cock or a pussy?"
After a moment of silence several voices shouted back, "No sir!"
"I didn't think so. Now listen up! I'm not standing up hear freezing my tits off because I get off on it in some way. I told you a little while ago that things were going to change around here. The changes that are going to be made mean you are going to be seeing a lot of each other, and I mean that literally. Therefore we're going to have to have some ground rules. I'll warn you right now, if you break these rules you are going to wish you had never heard of me!"
"First – on base no one touches another person's cock, pussy, breast, or ass unless you are treating a wound or injury. Understood?"
After a moment a chorus of "Yes sirs!" filled the room.
"Off base no one touches another person's cock, pussy, breast or ass without explicit permission. If you are in a position of authority over the other person you had better make damn sure that there is not the least hint of coercion, if you can't be absolutely sure that it is mutually agreed upon then keep your hands or whatever other body parts you were going to use to yourself! Understood?"
Another chorus of "Yes sirs!" filled the room.
Buffy looked over the crowd for several moments, "Enough of this show and tell, let's get dressed before things we don't want to lose start freezing and falling off."
Buffy bent over and picked up her panties and stepped into them, I followed suit along with everyone else. I still didn't have a clue what Buffy thought this stunt was going to accomplish. It didn't make any sense to me at all! A couple of minutes later everyone was dressed and Buffy's voice split the rising noise level.
"Eyes on me!" She looked around the crowd until she had everyone's attention, "I said at the beginning of this meeting that the problem as I saw it was that the squadrons weren't coming together because they were too broken up. That ends today!"
She stepped over to the easel that was a couple of feet behind me; she motioned for me and the other people in the area to move down. We cleared the area in front of the easel and she flipped the cover sheet over exposing the diagram of the base. She pointed to the cluster of three Quonset huts furthest from the headquarters building, "These are the 793rds quarters," she pointed to the next group of three Quonset huts, "These are the 794ths,", she moved her finger over to the last group on the other side of the headquarters cluster, "and these are the 795ths. All squadron personnel will live in the quarters assigned to their unit."
A groan went through the crowd, somebody shouted out, "We'll be even more crowded than we are now!" A couple other voices shouted agreement.
"Silence!" Buffy snapped, she pointed to the two barracks Quonsets in the headquarters group, "All personnel attached to the group but not assigned to a squadron will live in these barracks." Buffy turned and face the crowd, "You are not going to be more crowded because the barracks are going to be utilized as designed. Officers will be assigned to the private rooms, two to a room, except for squadron COs who will have a private room. Senior non-coms will be assigned to private rooms as space permits, again two to a room. All other enlisted personnel will be in the barracks room with their appropriate units."
There was silence in the hanger for almost a minute, finally a voice shouted out from the back of the room, "Together?"
Buffy nodded, "Yes, together!"
Somebody else shouted, "But what about the heads?!"
"Personnel will utilize the heads in their assigned quarters, just like always." Buffy looked over the crowd, "The separation of the sexes ends today. From now on you are part of your unit, you eat, live, sleep, shit, fart, piss and anything else you do as part of that unit. That unit is part of a squadron and that squadron is part of this group. There will be no more distinction between personnel based on the sex of the individuals. You are all adults, I expect you to act like it! That means no ass grabbing, tit tweaking, or cock jerking in the barracks!"
"People, we've got a war to fight. We are going to see lots of things that are going to sicken us, terrify us, or simply scare the living shit out of us. There is only one way that we are going to get through it with as many of us surviving as possible, and that's if we're the best we can be. All this bullshit jealousy and in fighting is going to stop right now. What your unit needs from you, what your squadron needs from the units and what the group needs from the all of you is the highest priority. As of this moment the 101st is the most important thing in your lives, don't you forget that!"
"Squadron COs, XOs and senior NCOs, you have one hour to get everyone assigned to new quarters. Everybody else - pack up your gear and get it out of the barracks you are currently in. After the new quarters assignments are ready all personnel will report to their new quarters. All personnel assigned to that hut will then clean those quarters until they shine, COs make sure it is done right! Once your quarters pass your COs inspection you will move into them and square them away. Once your entire Quonset hut is ready you will notify Lieutenant Harkens and I will inspect them, barracks room, private rooms, and heads. If they aren't squared away you will do it again until they are. No one is knocking off today until the move is complete."
"COs, only minimum duty personnel will be posted, all others will be making the move. And make sure you rotate the duty personnel so they can get their personal gear packed, their unit mates will take care of actually moving it. The mess will be open for dinner between 1800 and 2000, make sure your people have time to eat!"
Buffy turned toward us and spoke quietly, "Squadron COs, in my office in five." She turned back to the crowd, "Now get a move on people, it's going to be a long enough night as it is."
Buffy made one last look around the hanger, "101st dismissed!" Then she jumped off the stage and marched through the crowd to the hanger doors. As she neared the doors she passed First Sergeant Gunderson, she said something to him and he followed along behind her. The two of them disappeared in the blackness outside as the hanger erupted in noise.
I stepped up to the edge of the stage and shouted as loud as I could, it didn't reach Slayer levels but it was loud enough to silence the hanger, "SILENCE!" after quiet returned I continued, "YOU HEARD THE COLONEL, GET A MOVE ON!"
The men at the back of the hanger started slipping through the doors. I heard a voice calling up from in front of the stage, "Sirs!" I looked down and saw Sarah Harkens was at the foot of the stage looking up at us, she waited a moment until everyone's attention was on her, "I've got floor plans of the barracks Quonset huts that you can use to do the quarter's assignments."
"Thanks Lieutenant," I said for all of us.
"Then by your leave sir, I'll get to my desk so I can hand them out."
"Dismissed Lieutenant," Sarah turned and headed through the crowd as I turned to Sally, "You find Mac and get a complete squadron roster and the floor plans. I'll meet both of you in the squadron office as soon as the CO is done with us."
"Yes sir," Sally responded.
Five minutes later Tammie, Helen, and I were outside Buffy's office; I gave a sharp rap on the door and heard Buffy's voice, "Come!"
We marched in and came to a stop at the front of Buffy's desk; I raised my hand in salute, "Major Thompson, Captain Carson, and Captain Nelson, reporting as ordered."
Buffy returned the salute, "At ease, girls." She shook her head a little and then yelled out, "Halloran, Gunderson, come on in!"
The two sergeants came in but before they could do anything Buffy said, "At ease everyone, shut the door Sergeant." I glanced over and saw Gunderson come in followed by Halloran who shut the door behind himself. Buffy's office wasn't all that big but the five of us could stand around her desk. She looked at us for a couple of moments before she started.
"I know you all think I'm crazy as mad hatter but this is the only thing I could think of that would change anything in the long run," she shook her head sharply and put up her hand as I started to protest, "Thanks for the support, Barb, but even you think I'm crazy right now."
I didn't say anything but at the same time she knew me well enough that I wasn't fooling her, "I think I'm crazy, but like I said I think this is the only thing that has a chance to really solve our problems. As long as the men and women are separated they will be treated differently, and it will be almost impossible for that treatment not to favor one group of the other. Even if it is exactly equal the perception of the people involved will insure that some feel that it is not fare."
"We can't have that. Not and have us perform to our very best, and anything less than that is unacceptable. For two reasons, first because it means people are going to die that don't have to. And second because if we don't outperform everyone else this experiment will be treated as a failure and we'll be shut down."
"Sergeants, I don't know if you've ever experienced the kind of prejudices we're going to have to overcome to succeed, but it is not going to be easy and it is not going to be fare. Ladies, I know you have experienced it to some degree in your lives; this is going to be ten times, a hundred times, as bad. Especially once we get our shit together and start performing."
"So… on to my little stunt today. I'll apologize this once if I embarrassed you, I'm sorry about springing it on you so unexpectedly, but I felt the shock for everyone needed to be the same. Again with the perception of equality, I think everyone in that hanger realizes, or will when they think about it, that none of you had any more idea of what was happening than they did. That said, what I said up there is what is going to be the rules for the 101st. This is not going to work without your full and complete support, so I'm asking you to give this a chance."
We exchanged some quick glances as Buffy waited for our response, "Yes sir!" we chorused together.
"That means I expect you to lead by example - that means you're going to walk into the barracks head tomorrow morning and step into the shower just like you did this morning." Buffy's eyes swept across Helen, Tammie and I and then settled on Tammie, "It doesn't matter if five of the showers are occupied by your ground crew; you drop your towel and step into the empty shower!" She turned her attention to Gunderson, "and that means if you need to use the head you walk in and use it whether I'm on the commode next to you or not!"
I could see Gunderson swallow hard and give a sharp nod of his head, "Yes sir."
"Listen people, I want you to give this everything you've got for the next month. If it's not working I'll resign and someone else can figure this out, or we'll just call it a mistake and let it die. But I don't think it's a mistake and I think I can make the 101st the best damn fighter group in the world, but I need the organization supporting me to be backing me 100%. The kind of garbage that happened today cannot happen again, ever!"
"Yes sir!" this time our response was immediate, she was right, we couldn't continue to operate as we had been, not if today was any kind of example.
"Gunderson, Halloran, you work with Lieutenant Harkens on the quarter's assignment for the group personnel. Once you're done review it with the department heads, if there are any problems I'll be here."
"Yes sir," Gunderson and Halloran responded together.
Buffy nodded her head, "Dismissed!"
The stormy weather had finally broken five days after the Great Move as it was coming to be known and we had been flying almost daily since then. I didn't know if it was Buffy's changes or the constant ops brought on by the clear weather but the squadron was coming together. The group had lost seven pilots in the past ten days, three killed, two MIA and two wounded but only one of the pilots killed had been the result of an accident, all the rest had been due to the Germans. My squadron had lost one killed and one MIA. The first group of replacement pilots had arrived from the states earlier this week so we were at full strength.
As much as the losses hurt we'd made the Germans pay for their meager success, the group had claimed thirty two kills and nineteen probables. My squadron had claimed thirteen of the kills and four probables.
Today we were on a maximum effort bomber escort mission, unfortunately they had screwed up and we were scrambling to make up for a late departure. The mission orders had called for a 0900 takeoff but just before we headed for the planes Buffy got a call from wing headquarters wanting to know where the hell we were. The bombers had left at 0730, not 0830 as in the orders we had received. We got off as fast as we could but it meant the bomber stream was well ahead of us.
Buffy was leading the group; we only had two aircraft abort so she kept the other three back-up aircraft with her to form an extra flight that was flying with our squadron so we had five flights instead of the normal four. The other two squadrons each had their four flights of four aircraft so there were fifty two of us on the mission.
Buffy had led us in a long climb as we left England behind us; we climbed until we reached an altitude of 36,000 feet, much higher than we normally flew. We had continued to climb until we found a level where contrails didn't form; we didn't want our position marked by long streaks of white cloud pointing right at us. According to the mission orders the bombers were supposed to bomb from 22,000 feet so we were well above their planned level. We had a great view, the winter sky was crystal clear and from this altitude we could see for a hundred miles. Far ahead I could see dirty brown splotches filling the horizon, if our estimates were correct that was the flak over Hamburg where the bombers should be dropping their loads just about know.
Given the bombers early start we were not going to be able to catch them before they reached their target, at least not with enough fuel left in us to matter. So Buffy had decided to meet up with them as they left the target area. We knew from our experiences with the 89th that that was one of the German's favorite times to launch a massive attack. The bombers would be coming off the target with their formations broken up by the flak over the target and the fighter escort would be trying to rejoin the bombers. The fighter groups didn't like going over the target areas with the bombers just to be shot at by all the flak when they knew the German's fighters weren't going to be around. The German fighters didn't like flak any better than we did - a reasonable attitude since flak didn't care if you were friend or foe.
We continued east over the tranquil ground far below us, the landscape covered in white with dark patches of forest breaking through the snow. Our course wove slightly as we avoided any cities and other areas where there were known flak concentrations. So far our flight had been uneventful, we hadn't seen anything or been shot at by anyone. I sat in my cockpit, chilled to the bone and stiff from the lack of activity, the cockpit heater wasn't very effective against an outside temperature that must have been at least minus 70. Small patches of frost had formed in the lower corners of the windscreen, the defroster unable to reach those areas with enough heat to keep it at bay.
"Bandits! Twelve o'clock low!" Buffy's voice cracked in my ear, my head jerked to the front and down, after a few moments I spotted the cluster of dots ahead of us and far below us, heading in the same direction as we were. I couldn't tell if they were German's or our own fighters but Buffy did - her identification of them as 'bandits' and not 'bogies' meant she knew they were Germans. I glanced around at the squadron; planes were dancing and weaving slightly as the pilots tried to loosen themselves up.
The radio remained silent after Buffy's brief call, I was glad to hear the girls maintaining radio discipline. We continued on our course, slowly drawing toward the dots. I estimated there had to be more than a hundred of them down there, I would guess it was an entire German fighter wing; three groups would make it almost 150 enemy planes. I could feel the grin on my face under the oxygen mask; it looked like we would have some good hunting. Buffy's flight was in the lead, my flight off her right wing and slightly behind her, two more flights staggered to the right off and slightly behind mine. The fourth flight of my squadron was off Buffy's left wing.
Buffy wiggled her wings to attract everyone's attention, a moment later two drop tanks dropped from under wings. I flipped up the safety latches and pulled the release leavers on my drop tanks, they were almost empty since we'd been flying on them since we left England. Everyone would have a full load of fuel; we could spend a lot of time fighting and still have gas to get home. I glanced behind us and saw the cluster of dots as the drop tanks fell away from our planes.
We maintained our course and speed for another two minutes and then Buffy's wings wiggled again, then her right wing dropped and she curved into a dive, turning slightly away from the cluster of German fighters ahead of us. I followed her around and she held us on the course for half a minute, our speed climbing as the dive steepened. I glanced behind me to check on the rest of my squadron, everyone was in position. Even further behind I could see the 793rd start its dive, following the same course we were.
Buffy turned us back toward the German fighters, I glanced behind and I was looking right into the sun, she had swung us out until our approach course was bringing us to the Germans right out of the sun, to see us they would have to pick us up out of the glare of the winter sun. Ahead I could see the enemy fighters, it looked like they were all 109s, and they were climbing toward the bomber stream just coming into sight far in front of us. With the bombers in sight I knew where there concentration was going to be, this could be a near perfect bounce if they didn't spot us for another thirty second.
Buffy's voice came over the radio, "793rd hit the second group, 795th hit the lead group but watch for us, we'll be coming up at them from below after we make our first pass. 794th zoom climb as soon as we're through."
Our dive steepened and I we were heading toward the third cluster of German fighters, slightly below and behind the other two groups and a little closer to us. We were closing rapidly when Buffy gave the final instructions, "Yellow flight, shift left and down for your targets!"
The flight furthest to the left dropped below and side-slipped under Blue flight until they were below my flight. Buffy had us aligned on the center of the German group, they still hadn't spotted us and were climbing toward the bombers growing in front of them.
I lined up on the leader of a flight of 109s in finger four formations, their formation matched the one my flight was in and I could see the other fighters in my flight adjusting their position slightly to line up on their targets. The enemy fighter was growing rapidly in my sight, his wing tips spreading toward the glowing outer ring of my gun sight and then touching it. I mashed the machine gun and cannon triggers at the moment he filled my sight and saw the tracers streaking out and dropping slightly, they ended in a compact cluster of sparkling flashes just under his canopy. The enemy fighter staggered under the sudden onslaught of bullets and exploding cannon shells and then there was a bright flash as his ammunition detonated and his plane disintegrated.
I pulled back on my stick slightly to keep above the wreckage and glanced around quickly, two more German's were falling from the sky trailing long streaks of red flame. An ugly black cloud marked another dead German fighter, pieces of if starting to fall fluttering from the smoke, it looked like everyone in my flight had gotten a kill. Further out more German fighters were falling away trailing smoke or flame and expanding clouds of black smoke marked other kills. There were too many for me to get an accurate count but it had to be well over a dozen, I think almost everybody in the squadron and Buffy's flight got a kill.
Buffy was ahead, her flight already climbing for the leading German groups and I slammed my throttles forward to stay with her. The engines roared with the added fuel and I was pressed back in my seat as I zoomed upward. Above and ahead of us the German's were finally starting to react, but they were looking back at us and not at the other squadrons.
I saw the 793rd slash into the second group of German fighters, they were concentrating on the squadron on the right side of the formation and it looked like they got all but two of the enemy planes. One flight dodged frantically at the last second and seemed to manage to avoid the attack. The element of the 793rd that lost their targets maintained discipline and stuck with their flight. The entire squadron zoomed up immediately and hit another German squadron from below in a second attack, and then the entire German group exploded in confusion, planes going every direction. Two Germans managed to turn into each other and collide, the two planes locked together and tumbled toward the earth as one.
I shifted my concentration to the lead group; they were still organized and were wheeling around as a group to come after the 793rd. Unfortunately for them they hadn't spotted the 795th, as they completed their turn and started diving on the 793rd our sister squadron hit their rearmost squadron. Exploding fighters and tumbling wrecks filled the sky behind them and someone must have spotted it because suddenly half of them were trying to turn back again while the other half continued their dive.
We had climbed level with them and now we arced around, some of them had finally spotted us and started to turn toward us but we had our targets selected. The enemy fighter in my sights grew rapidly as he turned toward me but he was still only three quarters of the way around when he filled my sight and I squeezed the triggers. The machine gun tracers marked the flight of the bullets right into his canopy which disappeared in a shower of glass fragments, I could see his body jerking as machine gun rounds slammed into him and then his chest exploded as a cannot shell hit. I let go of the triggers and sat stunned for a moment, that was the first time I had actually seen my fire kill a man.
I shook myself out of my stupor and glanced around, my flight was with me but we had separated from the rest of the squadron. I put us in a steep climbing bank to get back to the fight, as we turned I saw the sky was filled with darting and wheeling airplanes. Smoke trails littered the sky as burning planes plunged toward the ground. Chatter was starting to fill the radio as targets and warnings were called out.
"Blue lead! Break right! Break right!" came one frantic voice.
"Green two, bandit left!"
And then I heard one of the twins, "Red lead, break left!"
I jerked my stick to the left and rolled onto my side as tracers flashed by my canopy, and then there were more tracers from above flashing by my wingtip as I rolled over and dove. As I came around I saw Cherry's plane flashing over me and a 109 disintegrating from her fire. I looked back and my wingman was still with me although the other element of my flight was gone, and then I saw them below me and turning the other direction, two German fighters following them around.
"Red three, bandits on your six!" I sent.
"Not for long!" I heard Sherry shout, and then I saw her flight streaking in from above and behind the Germans, moments later both she and her wingman opened up and the two German fighters staggered under the concentrated fire. Then one of the German fighters was tumbling across the sky, a wing peeling off as it disintegrated. The other German fighter rolled onto its back as flame streamed from its wing root, the canopy fell clear and a moment later the pilot dropped out of the stricken fighter, his body pulled into a ball as it fell toward the earth far below.
I pulled up and looked around for targets, glancing to my rear to make sure it was clear and my wingman was where she was supposed to be. She was there and I could see no Germans behind us. The other element of my flight was climbing toward us and I adjusted my course slightly so she could join up. Ahead I saw a cluster of German fighters that were turning toward some P-38s below us. It looked like there were a dozen or so German's in the group and I started to look around for some help when I heard Cherry's voice again, "Red lead, forming on your left."
I glanced over and saw Yellow flight forming on us and pointed toward the cluster of Germans. I could see her raise her thumb and I shifted back to them. We pushed over into a dive and arrowed toward the Germans. One of their flights spotted us and turned toward us as the others continued their dive toward the P-38s below us.
The P-38s seemed oblivious to the Germans bearing down on them. It looked like an entire squadron in neat formation, but I couldn't think of who that would be. Then I noticed their markings, they weren't from our group. They seemed to be heading toward a group of German fighters that were still on course for the bombers, now easily visible coming toward us. The Germans must be from the lower group that we had hit initially, we had made the one pass through them and wiped out one squadron but the rest of the group we had left pretty much intact.
I would have thought they would get involved with the melee as we concentrated on the other two groups but they were well disciplined, they were going after their primary objective, the bombers, and not letting themselves get distracted by the fighter battle raging above them. I didn't recognize the group markings on the P-38s; they weren't from any group I was familiar with.
In the seconds it had taken me to assess the situation we had closed on the Germans that had turned toward us. I had about two seconds left before I had to commit to dealing with them or try to slip past and get to the ones that were about to bounce the P-38s. Then I heard Sherry's call, "Red lead, slip left, we've got them!"
I glanced to my left and saw Sherry and her wingman diving toward the four Germans that were coming at us. I side slipped my plane and the others followed me. The Germans were stuck, if they tried to turn toward us Sherry would nail them, instead they turned toward her, evidently deciding the liked the four to two odds better. I glanced to my left and saw Cherry was sticking with me, I don't know if I would have been able to let my sister, if I had one, go off against 2 to 1 odds without trying to help her. And then the thought of Buffy flashed through my mind, I hadn't seen or heard her since we hit the second group. I guess I could let my sister go off and fight without having to stick with her.
We were closing rapidly on the Germans below us, it looked like they had target fixation because they weren't paying any attention to us. I spread our formation to match theirs and then concentrated on my target; he was rapidly filling my sight. Then I saw his machine guns start to wink, it was still a little long range but I raised my nose a touch and squeezed the triggers. My tracers arched toward him and sparkling hits covered his wing and he tried to turn toward me to duck under my fire but I shoved my nose down and my fire stayed on him. A red puff of a gasoline explosion erupted from his wing root and then his wing folded back and he was diving toward the ground.
I pulled up and looked back, six more smoke trails marked the death of almost all the attacking Germans, I couldn't spot the eighth 109. Ahead of me one of the Lightning's was trailing smoke and then I saw the characteristic puff of white of the engine fire extinguisher going off and his prop feathering. The rest of his squadron was continuing after the Germans. The Germans were closing on the bombers, machine gun fire from the bombers starting to arc toward them. The other group of P-38s, still oblivious to the near disaster we had just saved them from, stopped their pursuit and dove away, refusing to enter the sphere of fire around the bomber stream. We were too far from the Germans to catch them and I was also reluctant to get too close to the bomber stream, they were supposed to check their targets but with fighters flashing around they usually shot at anything they saw.
I looked around, for all the fighters that had been filling the air just moments ago it was now almost empty. My two flights were with me and I could see Sherry and her wingman heading toward us but still a mile or so away. In the far distance I could make out other small groups of P-38s reforming, but as scattered as we were I didn't think Buffy would try to reform the group. Moments later her voice confirmed my guess, "101st form up with whoever's around and head on home. Anybody damaged?"
I heard a voice, "Green three, I've got an engine out but my wingman's covering me." I didn't recognize the voice but I knew it wasn't my Green three, must be one of the other squadrons.
It was confirmed a moment later when I recognized Tammie's voice, "Blue lead, I've got her spotted, we'll escort her home."
There were no more calls of damaged aircraft. I pulled closer to the fighter that had been hit, as I pulled alongside I could see the other pilot waving frantically at me and pointing at his radio but I couldn't hear him, he must be on a different frequency. I held up my hand and motioned for him to calm down, after a moment he nodded in agreement. I pointed to myself and then to him and then held up two fingers and held them together, and then pointed to the west, he nodded in agreement, we would escort him home.
I started to pull to the side so my flight could form on me when he started waving his hand frantically again. I held up my hand and motioned for him to remain calm, "Blue Lead, would you form up with this guy, Yellow and Red flights will form on you."
I heard Sherry's voice respond, "Roger, Red Lead."
I pulled away from him and my flight reformed on me while Sherry and her wingman formed up on either side of the damaged P-38. Cherry and her Yellow flight formed up on the far side of them and we headed home. Two hours later and we were setting down at our base; the damaged plane had stayed with us all the way home. He didn't try to break off for his home field, I began to suspect he was a newbie and the position he had been flying reinforced it, tail end Charlie in the last flight of his squadron.
Buffy had a different philosophy than most fighter groups; she wanted the newbies up in the lead flights, usually as the Lead wingman, so they would be protected as much as possible until they got their feet wet. We also assigned our personnel differently; tail was the second most experienced flight after the lead flight, there to watch over the others as they learned the ropes.
I taxied into my revetment and shut Barbie Doll down; Mac was on the wing by the canopy as the propellers jerked to a stop. I released the canopy latch and then started disconnecting myself from the plane while Mac opened the canopy and reached in and helped me. I got myself free and stood up, then braced myself against the side of the canopy while a wave of vertigo flashed over me. Mac took my arm and helped me out, "Thanks, Mac. Everybody make it back?"
"Everybody in the squadron, although Sherrell caught a piece of the farm, her plane was pretty shot up and she took a round through the calf. She looked like she was in pretty bad shape when she brought her in but Doc says it was blood loss, the wound itself isn't that bad - she just didn't get a bandage on it. He said she should be back in a couple of weeks. I don't know about her plane, they're still going over it."
"And the group?"
"McKay from the 793rd didn't make it; somebody saw her going down in flames and out of control, no sign of a chute. Lenhardt from the 795th also went down but a couple people reported a chute, with her German and French if she gets clear on the ground she might be able to make it back." I nodded in agreement; Magdalena Lenhardt had been born and raised in Germany until her parents fled to the US in 1933 when the Nazis took over. Despite her Jewish ancestry she was blond and blue-eyed, a classical Aryan beauty, and she had a flair for languages. She had grown up in Kehl across the river from Strasbourg and had learned French from her nanny before starting school. When she came to the US she quickly learned English, she seemed to have a natural flair for languages. She had given several classes designed to help anybody evade capture if they got shot down and I'd heard she was teaching a lot of her squadron mates French or German.
"She's got a shot if she's not injured and they aren't waiting for her when she lands."
Mac nodded, we dropped off the wing and stopped near the tail, "Rooney evidently lost an engine in the fight," that must have been Green three I thought, "and then her second engine packed it in just as she got across the channel. She turned her plane around headed it out to sea before she bailed out."
I shook my head, "That was thoughtful, but awfully risky." I wasn't sure I agreed with her, while it was a nice thought not to have the plane come down on some Brits it was also very dangerous to try to turn a P-38 around with both engines out.
"Yeah, riskier than even she planned, by the time she bailed out she was so close to the coast that the wind carried her out into the channel."
"Shit!"
Mac shrugged his shoulders, "She lucked out in the end, came down next to a fishing boat and the girls watching over her said they saw the fishermen haul her out of the water and she was on deck waving at them when before they came home."
I nodded; it was always rough losing a pilot but I was getting used to it. But anyway you scored it today had to be a great day for the group, three pilots down but at least one and probably two had made it and only one other injury. On the other side of the balance sheet we had thrashed three German fighter groups something fierce, I didn't know what the final count was going to be but I thought it was going to be up near a hundred. A hundred to three was a good score in anyone's book; in an air battle it was almost unimaginable. A perfect bounce and in the massive confusion that followed we had had our way, I just hoped we never got caught like that. "Good. I don't think I caught anything today, Mac."
He glanced at the plane, "Well give her a good going over and I'll let you know."
"Thanks Mac."
When I had left the revetment I headed for the plane from the other group that we had escorted back, she was parked near the closest hanger. As I came up I saw the pilot, a 2nd Lieutenant, standing near the nose of his plane looking at the shot up engine nacelle. A couple ground crewmen were already clearing the wreckage away, there was gas leaking from somewhere and they were being careful, trying to find the leak without creating any sparks. Another ground crewman was standing by with a big fire extinguisher in case something went wrong.
I came up to the pilot, "Lieutenant?"
He snapped around and came to attention when he saw the oak leaves on my jacket epaulettes, his hand snapped up to his forehead, "2nd Lieutenant John Ganfield, Major, 832nd Squadron, 114th Fighter Group."
I returned his salute, "Stand easy, Lieutenant. Welcome to the 101st."
He was looking at me wide eyed, his expression one of bewilderment, "You're a woman?!"
"My, what an astute observation!"
He snapped back to attention, "Sorry ma'am."
I shook my head, "I said stand easy Lieutenant."
He started to relax and then something caught his eye behind me, I turned my head just in time to see the twins, both running full speed, slam into each other. They hugged each other and then Cherry, the scar on her cheek identifying her to me, tilted her head and her lips found her sisters. The girls clung to each other, lost in their own world, as wolf whistles and clapping from the ground crewmen started filling the air.
"McMillans!" I shouted, "Knock it off!"
A moment later they broke their grasp on each other and stepped apart, Cherry ducked her head but I could see her face flush red, "Sorry Major."
I glared at them, inside jealousy was rearing its ugly head, I had wanted to do that with Buffy so many times and yet I knew I could never let that emotion show. The twins came over to us; their embarrassment rapidly disappearing in their excitement, "Good fight, huh Major?" said Sherry.
I nodded, "And a good example of what happens when you don't pay attention."
The two girls exchanged a glance and then nodded in agreement, "Yes sir."
"Would you escort the 2nd Lieutenant to group headquarters?"
"Yes sir," responded Sherry.
I turned back to the 2nd Lieutenant, "Go with the Lieutenants, Ganfield, they'll take you to headquarters and they'll get in touch with your group and figure out how to get you home." I looked up at his aircraft; I could tell it would be at least a couple of days before the damage could be repaired, if it could. It looked like there could be some major structural damage in the wing, we might not tackle it all, either write it off or ship it to a maintenance depot depending on what we found. "I don't think she's going to be flying any time soon."
"Yes sir."
"Don't worry Major, we'll take care of him," Cherry said.
I looked at her a little warily but she just grinned back at me, a matching grin on her sister's face. I shook my head, "Dismissed."
