The C-54 banked slowly around on its approach to Washington National, I looked past Buffy and out the small window and could see the Capital and beyond that the White House. General Doolittle had followed his orders; it was six days since we'd landed back in England and now we were arriving in Washington. It had actually been a fairly relaxing flight, especially after four days of being grilled by the 8th Air Force staff. Buffy had been right, I'd recounted our time in Germany so many times I never wanted to hear or tell that story again.
The C-54 was a large four engine aircraft, based on the Douglas DC-4, and this one was pretty close to the civilian airline version since it was set up as a personnel transport. The seats were relatively large and despite having passengers in all the seats there was plenty of room. Buffy and I, given our rank and travel priority had good seats, just ahead of the wing, with a decent view out the small window. We'd made the flight from England to Halifax the day before and spent the night in the same hotel we had a year and a half earlier - the day before we flew to England for the first time in a pair of P-38s.
The plane tilted as it banked into the landing pattern and our view was obscured as the wing rose. I sat back in my seat and wondered what was waiting for us. For the flight back we had opted for our normal flying uniform, slacks, shirt and tie, jackets and officers cap. We had managed to get new leather jackets to replace the ones we had left behind in Germany but they were bare except for the rank insignia on the epaulettes, we hadn't even had time to get the leather patches with our wings and name sewn onto them. The jackets were stowed in the overhead rack. Our uniform shirts had 8th Air Force patches on the shoulder of the sleeve, our wings over the breast pocket, and our rank insignia on the collar points, otherwise they were bare. Buffy had the silver eagles of a Colonel and I had the silver oak leaves of a Lieutenant Colonel. We had received quite a few odd looks from our fellow passengers; I don't think they were used to seeing female officers, especially of our rank.
As far as I knew Buffy was the only female Colonel in the Army. Jackie Cochran and Nancy Love had been commissioned as Lieutenant Colonels when they started the female pilot program, and they were still Lieutenant Colonels as far as I knew. The only other field grade (Major, Lieutenant Colonel, or Colonel) female officers that I was aware of were Tammie Nelson, now the CO of the 101st, and Helen Carson who was organizing the 143rd although there may have been a couple of more in their organizations that I hadn't heard of.
The travel priority on our orders, 6A, coupled with our rank, had insured we got seats on the flights we needed. A Major General, his name tag read 'B. McRae', had raised a stink in Halifax when we bumped his two aides but passenger control had refused to budge. Despite the fact that we outranked the aides I think they would have bumped us except for the clause at the bottom of our orders, I'd never seen one like it before:
'If removed from scheduled flight removing authority will immediately cable Commanding General, USAAF, Washington, DC and Commanding General, 8th Air Force, ETO with reason for removal and alternative assigned flight schedule.'
In other words if they bumped us off any of our flights they had to tell General Hap Arnold and Doolittle why and what they were going to do about getting us to our destination.
The plane leveled out and I heard the whine of the flaps going down and felt her slow down. Then additional whines and thumps and more slowing signaled the landing gear lowering. I glanced out the window and saw water below us, getting closer rapidly, and then we were over land and moments later a concrete runway appeared below us. With a moderate thump we touched down; then we settled more on the wheels and I could feel the slight jarring as we rolled over the expansion cracks in the runway. The engines roared and we decelerated more rapidly, slowing to the point where the plane could turn and take one of the numerous cross paths over to the taxiway and then turn again to head back toward the terminal building.
A couple of minutes later there was some final maneuvering and then we came to a stop, the engines started shutting down and a few moments later there was silence, a little startling after hours of roaring engines. People started getting out of their seats and collecting their belongings, I stood up and grabbed our jackets and caps off the rack above our seats and handed Buffy hers. There was a 'thunk' as something hit the plane and a moment later the door behind the starboard wing opened, letting bright light and a cold gust of wind into the stuffy cabin. A few moments later the line of passengers in the central aisle started moving slowly toward the rear of the airplane.
I stayed standing in front of my seat as the more senior officers from the front of the plane filed past, the General we had pissed off scowling at me as he went by. When the aisle cleared I stepped out and Buffy followed me, both of us slipping on our jackets and caps as we neared the door. We stepped out onto the platform at the top of the boarding ladder and I looked around, it was a bright clear day but a cold damp wind was blowing off the Potomac River, I hastily zipped my jacket closed.
I let Buffy step ahead of me; rank hath its privileges, and followed her down the boarding stairs. I noticed General McRae from Halifax standing near the line of passengers heading for the terminal, a Captain with an MP brassard around his arm stood beside him and a couple MP Sergeants were behind them. We got off the boarding ladder and headed for the terminal when the MP Captain stepped in front of us, he gave us a scowl and growled, "Ladies, let's see your orders and Id cards."
I looked over his shoulder and saw the General give us a nasty grin, I just shrugged my shoulders and dug my ID card out of my breast pocket and handed it to him. Buffy had already handed him her ID card and our orders, he glanced at them briefly and then looked up, "Come with me."
Buffy didn't move, the other people leaving the plane had to curve around our group, giving us curious looks as the passed, "Where?"
"Back to my office while we find out what is going on!" He nodded to his two sergeants and they moved up to stand on either side of us.
Buffy glanced at them and her expression hardened, "And what is that supposed to mean?"
"Why are you two girls are trying to impersonate army officers! You didn't really think you could get away with it did you?"
Before Buffy could say anything a young Lieutenant came up and saluted Buffy, "Colonel Summers, Colonel Thompson, I have a car waiting for you, the driver will get your bags."
Buffy returned his salute and the MP Captain looked at him in disgust, "Another imposter? I think you had better come with us."
The Lieutenant looked in shock at the Captain, "What? I'm an aide…"
Before he could say anything more the Captain interrupted him, "Keep your mouth shut or you'll be in even more trouble. Now come along!" He turned around and started walking toward a small building beside the main terminal. As he passed McRae he said, "Sir, You'll need to come with us to sign the incident report."
The two sergeants started crowding the three of us, trying to drive us after the Captain and General McRae. Buffy scowled at them and they backed off a little; then she muttered under her breath, "I guess it will be quicker to get this fool straightened out than to just deck these idiots and go about our business."
I could see the Captain stiffen but he didn't turn around, McRae glanced over his shoulder and I saw him start to pale and his eyes widened a little as he looked closer at the Lieutenant. He turned back to the Captain and started to say something that I couldn't hear. The Captain responded, "They're just dressed up, sir, we'll find out the truth soon enough."
I looked at the Lieutenant walking beside me, his name tag read C. R. Koback, he appeared stunned and at a loss. He had the gold aiguillette of an aide-de-camp and in place of his branch of service insignia on his collar was an aide's device, it consisted of a golden eagle on top of a blue shield containing a ring of stars. I'd seen aide's devices before, they indicated who they were an aide to but I couldn't remember having ever seen one like his. I had no idea what it meant but I guessed it had something to do with the Pentagon.
When we entered the building we came into a large office area with half a dozen desks. At the far side was a hallway leading further into the building. The front office seemed deserted, not surprising for a Sunday afternoon I guessed. The two sergeants herded us to a corner beside a desk cluttered with papers and a typewriter before stepping back to stand near the door. The Captain took McRae back to another desk and offered him a seat at the side of the desk, after the General sat down the Captain took his seat behind the desk and started working on some papers. The General said something I couldn't hear and he responded, "This will only take me a minute and you'll be on your way, sir."
I turned to Buffy, "What the hell do they think they're doing?"
She shook her head in disgust, and then muttered softly, "There are a lot of incredibly stupid people in the Army."
The Lieutenant reached down and picked the receiver off of the telephone on the desk beside us and started dialing, the sergeants were talking quietly to each other and not paying attention and the Captain had his nose buried in his paperwork, McRae's back was to us. Whoever he called answered almost immediately, he rattled off a couple of numbers and waited a few moments more, then said "Koback, sir."
I couldn't hear the other side of the conversation, just the Lieutenant's responses, "I have them sir."
…
"No sir, some MP Captain has hauled us to his office."
…
"At the airport…"
One of the sergeants evidently noticed him at that point because suddenly he was beside him and jerked the telephone out of his hand and slammed it down, "Nobody said you could make any phone calls!"
The MP Captain looked up, "What the hell?"
The sergeant turned to him, "The Lieutenant was calling someone on the phone, sir."
"Keep control of the prisoners, Sergeant!" he growled and then continued working on his papers.
The other sergeant came up and the two of them crowded us back into the corner and scowled at us. I glanced over at Buffy but she just shook her head in disgust, I nodded in agreement. We'd run into our fair share of hassles since we'd joined the Army, but this was a new one.
A couple of minutes later the Captain handed McRae the papers he had been working on, McRae glanced at them briefly and then signed them. Both of them stood up as the MP Captain said, "Thank you for bringing this situation to our attention, sir. We'll take care of it from here, I suspect we'll find out they're some English hookers trying to get into the country illegally or something like that."
I glanced at Buffy, instead of exploding like I expected she put one hand on her hip and the other up to her hair, she looked sultrily up at the Lieutenant standing beside her. She batted her eye lashes at him and in a reasonable British accent she asked, "Want a good time, big boy?"
She spoke loud enough that both the General and the MP Captain's heads jerked around to stare at her wide eyed. Outside I heard squealing tires followed almost immediately by a slamming door. A moment later the door to the building came flying open and Colonel came storming through. His uniform tunic was on crooked, he hadn't gotten it buttoned correctly, and he wasn't wearing a cap. He did have an MP brassard around his arm and his face was red, he looked like he was about to explode, "WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE!"
In the silence that followed I heard Buffy mutter under her breath, "And the cavalry arrives in the nick of time."
The silence continued for another couple of seconds as the MP Captain and General McRae exchanged a glance, then the Captain responded, "Sir, we caught a couple women traveling under fake orders and it looks like we may have got one of their accomplices here also. The General was on a flight from Halifax when he noticed them; I've checked their papers and they are obvious forgeries."
"And how the hell did you determine that?!"
"Well… they're women… and they're trying to pass as senior officers…"
"Jesus! I'm amazed you could even correctly determine their gender considering the stupidity…"
General McRae interrupted him, "Colonel, get control of yourself!"
The MP Colonel's head swiveled between the General and the Captain for several moments; then he took a deep breath and seemed to calm himself. "Sir, I believe you may have had a significant error in judgment."
"What are you talking about?" McRae asked.
"I'm sure you have heard of Buffy Summers and Barbara Thompson, the two leading fighter pilots in the Army Air Force!"
"Of course, they were killed a couple of months ago!" he snapped back.
Buffy spoke up, "See Barb, I told you this whole resurrection thing is going to be one big pain in the ass."
The three officers turned to look at her and she smiled sweetly back at them, then the MP Colonel went on, "They weren't killed, they were shot down and escaped from Europe. And right now they are standing over there while the President is waiting for them at the White House! And he is not happy about it!"
That rang a bell in my mind and I glanced back at the Lieutenant standing beside us, digging back through my memories from when we first came into the Army I remembered the picture of the devices aides wore to designate who they were an aide to. The last device pictured was the one where the shield was blue with a circle of stars, worn by the aide-de-camps to the President of the United States.
I looked back at them when McRae started to talk, "But she's so small!"
"Hey!" Buffy snapped, "I'm just the right height for my size!"
The Lieutenant spoke up, "Sir, may we leave now? I have a car waiting for the Colonels."
The MP Colonel turned away from the other two and stepped over to us, he held out his hand to Buffy and she took it, "It's an honor to meet you, ma'am."
She shook his hand, "Thank you for rescuing us, Colonel."
He nodded and released her hand and turned to me, I took it as he said, "And you Lieutenant Colonel Thompson."
"Thank you sir," I replied.
He let go of my hand and turned to the Lieutenant, "You may go, Lieutenant. I'll deal with this… idiocy."
"Yes sir," he said and then gestured for us to precede him out the door.
As we walked by the MP Captain and General McRae Buffy addressed him, "By your leave, sir." But she didn't stop or even slow waiting for him to respond. I followed behind her and saw his eyes tracking her, too stunned to say anything.
Once outside the Lieutenant lead us to a Packard staff car on the far side of the main terminal, a sergeant stood by the door and came to attention as we came up and saluted us. Buffy returned his salute as he said, "Ma'am, I've got two duffle bags for you and two for Colonel Thompson and a garment bag of yours in the trunk. Is that all your luggage?"
"Yes, thank-you sergeant. And don't 'ma'am' me… I'm not old enough for that."
"Buffy, drop it… we're going to get 'ma'am'ed everywhere we go, it's a waste of breathe to try to change everyone's habits."
Buffy scowled up at me for a moment and then her expression softened and she smiled and shrugged, "Yeah, you're probably right."
Lieutenant Koback spoke up, "Ma'am…" Buffy's glare brought him to a stop and after a moment he continued, "ah… sir, if we can get going?"
"Are we going straight to the White House?"
"No sir, we've got a couple hours before they're expecting you. You, and Colonel Thompson, have a suite at the Mayflower. General Watson thought you might like to have a chance to clean up and change into your dress uniforms before you report to the House."
Buffy nodded, "Thank-you Lieutenant." I started to get into the rear of the staff car as the sergeant held the door for me. The Lieutenant was heading around the car for the front passenger seat when Buffy called out "Shotgun!"
He stopped in confusion and turned to look at her, I caught his eye, "The Colonel doesn't like to ride in the back – the Colonel would prefer the front seat, Lieutenant."
Buffy glanced at me as she headed around the car, "The Colonel also doesn't like to be talked about as if she wasn't here." I just grinned at her.
"Yes sir," Koback nodded as he lead her around the car and opened both the doors, Buffy got into the front seat and he closed the door and then got into the back seat behind her. I got in the other side and the sergeant closed the door after me.
Buffy squirmed around and muttered under her breath, "Damn I wish they had seat belts in these damn things!"
The sergeant was getting in behind the wheel, "Sir?"
She looked at him, "Seat belts! So I don't get thrown through the windshield when you run into something!"
"Sir! I won't run into anything!"
"Make sure you don't sergeant – let's get this rolling death trap on the road."
Forty-five minutes later we pulled up to the ornate front entrance to the Mayflower hotel, Buffy turned in her seat to look back at me, "Sometimes I think combat sorties are safer than driving around this damn city!" She turned back to let herself out but the doorman was already opening the doors; she glanced back at the sergeant behind the wheel, "Thanks for keeping us alive."
He grinned up at her, "Thank you ma… sir."
I scooted across the seat and followed Lieutenant Koback out of the car as the sergeant got out to open the trunk. A porter collected our luggage and we headed into the hotel. Half an hour later we were checked into our rooms. The suite consisted of a comfortably furnished front room and a single bedroom with a huge bed and an adjacent bath.
I had won the toss and got first dibs on the bath and had luxuriated in it for half an hour while Buffy entertained the Lieutenant in the parlor. Finally I got out and let Buffy have her turn. After drying off and getting my hair brushed out and in some semblance of order, I still needed to get a haircut, I'd put on the heavy robe provided by the hotel and went back out into the front room. We had sent our dress uniforms out to be pressed while we got cleaned up but they weren't back yet so I passed the time talking to the Lieutenant.
Twenty minutes later I heard the bedroom door open and glanced up to see Buffy standing in the doorway, her arms over her head toweling her hair dry and not a stitch of clothing on, "Barb, have our uniforms come back yet?"
Out of the corner of my eye I saw the Lieutenants mouth drop open in shock as he looked up at her, "Buffy!" It came out almost as a squeak and I had to take a moment to get control of my voice back, "we aren't at the 101st!"
Buffy froze, her gaze settling on the Lieutenant staring at her, I could see her start to redden and then she visibly took control of herself. She casually resumed drying her hair as she looked at Koback, after a few moments she said, "Lieutenant, it's impolite to just stare."
Finally he snapped out of it and jerked around until he was facing the other direction, "Sorry, ma'am."
She looked at him for a second, "It's also impolite to turn your back on someone you're talking to."
He turned to me, I could see he was lost as to how he was supposed to behave, "Just try to act like she's got clothes on, look at her but don't stare and try to keep your thoughts off the more prurient level. Think of it as looking at a nude painting in a museum."
He tried to compose himself as he turned back to her, "Sorry ma… sir."
"Don't worry about it Lieutenant, we all have to learn. So are we going to get some clothes or is this show going to continue?"
"Buffy, the uniforms aren't back yet, there is a robe hanging on the bathroom door - you could use it."
She nodded and disappeared into the bedroom, the Lieutenant turned back to me and after a moment asked, "Sir, what did you mean you 'aren't at the 101st'?"
"I meant we weren't at our old base."
"But what did that have to do with…" He glanced significantly at the open door to the bedroom.
"Ah…" We hadn't tried to keep the integration of the sexes at the 101st secret but we also hadn't gone out of our way to talk about it either. I think it was becoming more and more widely known in England but so far no one in the hierarchy had raised a stink. I didn't know how much longer that was going to last. The base chaplain and his assistant had nearly had a conniption fit when we first did it, but they'd kept quiet at Buffy's request for a month, and after they had seen how it was working had reluctantly agreed that it did work. The assistant chaplain had even become an enthusiastic supporter of the policy, but I wasn't at all sure that the enthusiasm was completely in line with his church's doctrine.
I figured sometime, and probably not too long in the future, some prude was going to start raising hell about the policies and I had no idea how the upper command was going to respond. And when it got back to here I was sure there was going to be all kinds of complaints, but then from what I understood there were already all kinds of complaints just about our existence. Fortunately the necessities of war and the success of our group had put a lid on them; they couldn't complain that we couldn't do the job when we had had the highest number of credited kills per month for any fighter group for six of the last seven months, only losing to the 89th the month we transitioned to P-51s.
I thought 8th Air Force would probably back the policy since we had managed to maintain a lower pregnancy rate than any other army unit with female personnel. There had only been 2 over the nine months that we'd been overseas that I knew of, and none of them officers. And one of them could be shown to have nothing to do with our integration policies; she'd been pregnant - although she hadn't known it - before she left the States.
I realized I hadn't responded to the Lieutenant when he interrupted my musings, "Uh… sir?"
I shook my head and came back to the present, "Sorry… It's just…" I could feel myself begin to blush and I tried again, "We didn't have anything to spare in the way of quarters or facilities at Spilsby, so we integrated the base."
"Integrated? I didn't know you had Negroes in the 101st."
I shook my head, "Not racial integration, gender integration."
"Gender integration?"
Buffy came out of the bedroom, her hair brushed back into a ponytail that went halfway down her back, she was belting the robe as she came across the room, "What she means is all the men and women lived in the same quarters and shared the same heads. That's why I didn't think about putting anything on before I interrupted you before. Sorry if I embarrassed you, Lieutenant."
"No sir! That was quite all right…"
Buffy grinned at him as his voice trailed off, "Meaning once you got over the shock you enjoyed looking at me?"
He started to turn red but managed to stammer out, "Uh… well… yes sir!"
She smiled at him, "Good, I'm glad you think I'm good to look at… it's better than being thought of as ugly. Beauty may be only skin deep… but I bet if you had to parade around in the buff among members of the opposite sex all the time you'd probably try to keep in better shape."
The Lieutenant looked down at himself; his stomach stretching his uniform a little, then looked back at Buffy, "Too much desk time sir… and you're probably right."
She nodded in agreement, "Yeah, I think the 101st was in the best shape it ever was last summer… then we started to slack off a little, maybe a little familiarity breeds contempt syndrome? It would probably have been better if we had a more regular turnover of personnel but other than for loses we didn't have many transfers."
The Lieutenant glanced at his watch, "Crap!"
"What is it, Lieutenant?" Buffy asked.
"We should be leaving soon; we're supposed to be at the White House in half an hour and you can never tell about the traffic at this time of day. Sometimes I don't think gasoline rationing applies to anyone in Washington. I better check on your uniforms…"
He was interrupted by a rap on the door and a voice from the other side, "Concierge!"
Buffy started walking toward the door when the Lieutenant hopped up from the couch, "I'll get it, sir."
She stopped, "Thanks, Lieutenant."
The Lieutenant went over to the door and opened it to a uniformed hotel employee holding our freshly pressed uniforms on hangers. He slipped the man a bill as he took the uniforms from him and shut the door. He turned back to us and Buffy nodded toward the bedroom, "Thanks, just put them on the bed."
We followed him into the bedroom; he laid out the uniforms and said, "Would you like me to start putting the accoutrements on them?"
Buffy was going through her duffle, tossing bra, panties, and socks on the bed as she came to them, "That would be a help, mine are up on the left side of the dresser and Barb's stuff is on the right."
He stood up and tried to be act nonchalant when Buffy dropped her robe and started pulling on her underwear. I got my stuff out of my duffle and dropped the robe and started dressing. Buffy was standing beside the Lieutenant in bra and panties as he finished pinning her eagles to the collar points of her shirt and handed it to her, "Thanks, Lieutenant. How much do I owe you for the tip?"
The Lieutenant glanced up from where he was working on my shirt, "That's okay ma… sir."
She shook her head as she pulled on the shirt, "No, you don't have to pay for us."
"Just a couple dollars… steep, but this is the Mayflower and he was pretty quick."
Buffy walked over to the dresser and picked up a thin wallet, we didn't bother trying to carry purses with us. They were never convenient and neither of us wore any make-up when in uniform so we didn't need the space, instead we'd gotten slim leather wallets to hold our IDs and money when we were off base. Buffy got out a couple of bills and came back to the bed and handed them to him before she started buttoning up her shirt. The Lieutenant handed me my shirt and I put it on and then continued dressing as he worked on getting ribbons, wings, and all the other devices properly positioned on our uniform coats.
By the time Buffy and I had completed dressing he had the coats ready and held them for us as we slipped them on. Buffy and I checked ourselves in the large mirror on the side wall and then checked each other, habit from when we'd first joined the Army and you got jumped on something fierce if your uniform wasn't squared away.
We looked at each other and I couldn't help smiling, "Well Buffy - ready to go face the world?"
She looked up at me and reluctantly nodded, "I keep having this recurring thought… it might have been much smarter for us to have just stayed in that cave."
I shrugged my shoulders, "We'll never know now, will we?"
She shook her head and turned toward the door, the Lieutenant was looking at us, "What cave, sir?"
"Are you going to be with us tonight, Lieutenant?"
"I doubt it, sir. My understanding is that this is supposed to be a private dinner for the two of you and the President and his wife and a couple of senior officers, my boss, General Watson, and General Arnold, I believe."
Buffy thought for a moment, "I think I'll make sure you are invited, unless you don't want to be among all the high and mighty."
He looked shocked, "No sir, I'd… I'd really enjoy it."
She nodded, "Good, then I don't have to tell you about the cave now, I'm sure I'll have to tell it tonight at least once."
Buffy was right, we had had to tell the story during the course of drinks and dinner. The Lieutenant had also been right, the party consisted of the President and his wife and his oldest son, James, a Marine Major, along with General Watson, Roosevelt's senior military aide, and General Hap Arnold, Commanding General of the Army Air Forces.
Buffy and I had first met Eleanor Roosevelt and General Arnold in England when they were trying to court martial General, at that time Colonel, Miller for getting Buffy killed by letting us fly combat. The court martial, or more correctly the Article 32 hearing was brought to an abrupt close when she walked into the court room after having escaped from Europe. It's tough to win a negligent homicide case when the victim isn't dead. We had met the President shortly after that when we had returned from England to form the 101st. We hadn't met General Watson or James Roosevelt before but they all tried to make us feel comfortable as we chatted and related the tale of our escape. When Buffy had asked that Lieutenant Koback be permitted to join us it also got General Arnold's aide included.
Dinner was almost over, I was finishing the last of my Crème Brulee, and Buffy had just completed relating our final brush with the Luftwaffe in the Me-262s. The President looked at seriously for a moment and then asked, "Colonel Summers, what is your honest assessment of the air situation in Western Europe, specifically with the introduction of these new fighters by the Germans."
"Honestly sir?" Buffy asked, looking a little nervously at General Arnold, "I'm not sure I'm qualified to do that."
FDR shot a look at Arnold who nodded minutely and addressed Buffy, "Colonel, I think you are eminently qualified – you've been fighting over there longer than most."
Buffy looked at him for a moment and then shrugged slightly, "If you'll excuse my French, we're in deep ca-ca… really deep ca-ca if they are able to field those planes in any significant number."
General Watson spoke up, "And why do you say that?"
Buffy thought for a moment, "Two reasons primarily, first with the speed advantage they have they control the fight. In most cases they'll be able to select if and when we fight, so they'll pick the times when they have the advantage. Second, that plane has one nasty set of guns. They've got four 30mm cannon, they aren't the greatest guns; they have a low muzzle velocity so their range isn't that great. But once you learn to use them it only takes one or two hits to bring down a fighter and not many more to bring down a bomber. Once they get the numbers and learn how to use them they are going to be a real pain."
General Arnold looked at me, "Colonel Thompson, do you have an opinion?"
I nodded, "I think Buff… Colonel Summers is dead on. The only saving grace is that they seem to be having a real problem with the engines, both in reliability and service life."
"Meaning?" FDR asked.
"They're going to have lousy operational readiness," at the questioning expression on FDR's face I expanded, "the number of aircraft that will be ready for missions at any given time isn't going to be good. In the 89th and the 101st we ran around 95% when we were flying combat…"
General Arnold broke in, "Sir, most fighter groups in combat run about 80%... the 89th and 101st are exceptional – due in no small part to Colonel Thompson being the group maintenance officer for the 101st."
I could feel myself redden slightly, "It wasn't me, sir… It was the maintenance crews."
He shook his head slightly, "Leadership is always the key… but go on Colonel."
It took a moment to recollect where I was, "I think the Germans, at least initially, are going to be lucky to get to 60%. From what we were able to observe of the squadron it seemed they were changing engines on half a dozen planes all the time. From what I was able to glean from the maintenance manual Bu… Colonel Summers obtained it seemed like they expected an operational life of 40 to 50 hours. I don't think they were getting half that in the squadron we observed, it seemed more like 20 to 25 hours."
FDR chuckled a little, "Colonel, we're all aware of Colonel Summers rather unique moniker, if you're more comfortable with it then use it."
Buffy spoke up, "I have a perfectly fine name."
FDR grinned at her, "Yes, you do… it's just a little incongruous given what… let us say your professional predilections."
Buffy scowled a little, then smiled and shrugged, "Yeah, people seem to expect an airhead for some unknown reason." Buffy looked around the room, "We were friends before we joined the Army and that hasn't changed, we've never been much for formality between us."
FDR nodded and turned to me, "Do you have any idea why the German's are having such difficulties? They're usually damn fine engineers."
"I'm not sure… I'm not an engineer…"
"But?"
"Well… trying to read between the lines in a foreign language is difficult but I developed the impression that they aren't able to use the materials they really want to use in some of the critical parts; the way some of the sections, maintenance and checks and such, about the turbine blades seem to have been modified to stress being more careful around them. It felt like they are a lot more fragile than they should be… or it may just be that they found out that they are."
General Arnold was nodding his head, "You may have something. One thing the German's haven't succeeded in doing is getting their sources for some minerals, especially ones used in high grade metallurgy, stabilized. We've had requests, and I've forwarded them to 8th AF, to strike at their steel refining capability. Shortages in those materials can cause all kinds of problems in lots of applications."
I noticed General Watson glance at his wrist and then look up, "This is a most interesting discussion but we need to bring it to a close, it's time to move on to the final event of this evening."
I wasn't sure what that meant but we found out shortly. They lead us through various hallways until we came into a large room, it looked like it was a ballroom, that was filled with reporters and cameras started flashing. We came into the room near one end and immediately went up onto a raised platform with a podium with half a dozen microphones on it. The President rolled up onto the stage but when he got near the podium his son and General Watson helped him to his feet and he stood behind the microphones.
General Arnold directed Buffy and I to stand near the side of the podium. When the reporters saw us the noise level went up and some of them started yelling questions at us. We didn't respond and after a moment FDR raised his hands and the room quieted. A technician of some sort came up to the other side of the podium, "Sir, we can go live anytime you're ready."
FDR nodded to him, "I'm ready, son."
He nodded and waited about fifteen seconds and then started counting down, "Five… four… three…" then he went silent but he continued the count down with his fingers.
When he hit zero a red light came on at the back of the podium, a few moments later FDR began speaking, "Good evening fellow countrymen. Several months ago a great tragedy struck our country when we lost two of our finest young fighter pilots, Buffy Summers and Barbara Thompson. I am pleased to inform you tonight that our grief was premature, both Colonel Summers and Thompson evaded death and capture by the Germans and escaped from continental Europe and returned to England last week. They are now here beside me."
The President's speech went on for about ten minutes, he did not go into details about our escape all though he did acknowledge that we did it by 'taking possession' of some German aircraft and flying back to England. He had to stop several times to wait for applause and cheering from the assembled reporters to quiet down. When he finished he turned to General Arnold while General Watson helped him walk a little closer to us.
General Arnold read the citation awarding me the Distinguished Service Cross, when he completed it FDR pinned the medal to my tunic and shook my hand. I stepped back to make way for Buffy, when General Arnold completed reading the citation awarding her the Medal of Honor the President placed the blue ribbon with the star shaped medal around her neck as Buffy blushed red.
