Next morning, Mike stood beside Biggles and watched as the Catalina surged across the crystal clear waters and rose into the air, taking with her the remaining survivors of the ill-fated Gunadoo. Jack Somers had effectively played down the Hammersley's mysterious appearance, warning the Gunadoo's survivors that this was an RAN special ops crew that had come to deal with the reported German U-Boat presence. The new arrivals had been unaware that Biggles and his team had dealt the German secret base a death-blow two days earlier because they had come through a storm that had knocked out their communications. He didn't have to remind them, he finished, of the importance of their not discussing anything to do with the Hammersley and its crew with anyone. Satisfied that the present-day sailors had fully appreciated his warning, Somers had turned to Biggles before climbing into the dinghy to be taken out to his Catalina.
"You won't pull the wool over Ted's eyes, you know, mate," warned Jack as he said goodbye to Biggles. "If I were you, I'd keep him in the picture right from the start."
Biggles nodded in agreement. "Don't worry about Ted. I'll deal with him. You concentrate on getting back safely. I can only provide you with an escort for part of the way then you're on your own."
"I came here under my own steam, didn't I?" demanded the Group Captain with some asperity. "I can fly, you know," he added indignantly.
"I'm sure you can, sir," laughed Biggles, cheekily placing emphasis on his acknowledgement of Jack's seniority. "But I'll be happier knowing that I've given you as much protection as I can. Besides, your passengers have survived one attack by the enemy," he added soberly. "I'd like to think we'd helped them back home safely."
The men had shaken hands and Jack had been paddled out to his machine by a young RAAF corporal whose Sea Rescue Unit had recently arrived on Handy Cay after having been seconded to serve under Biggles' command.
"He seems like a good bloke," commented Mike, his eyes on the slowly climbing amphibian. "He's young for his rank, though."
"No more than most in this show," answered Biggles wryly, thinking back to the extreme youthfulness of the commanding officers during his time in the RFC. "Would it surprise you to know I wasn't 20 years old when I had my first command back in the first show?"
Mike sighed and turned to his companion.
"Probably not. I've read quite a bit about those early days and I do know that command responsibilities fell on some incredibly young shoulders during both World Wars. It's just a bit of a surprise to come face to face with the fact." He watched as Biggles dropped his cigarette to the ground, grinding it into the dirt with his boot. The high level of smoking amongst his new friends had taken him, and the entire Hammersley crew, aback. He had had to remind his people that they were now in an era where smoking cigarettes was socially acceptable and definitely not banned from either eating areas such as the Mess and the bar, or from the working environment. He grimaced as he realised that he would simply have to suck it up!
Biggles' keen eyes had not missed the grimace.
"You're not a smoker?" he enquired.
"No," Mike grinned and shrugged. "Barely any of my crew smoke. It's not allowed in the work environment on board. Sailors can only smoke in designated external smoking areas. Times have definitely changed, Biggles. You might be a bit surprised just how much."
"I'm sure they have," agreed Biggles affably. "I'm still trying to get my head around having women serving in the front line! But I got the impression that you and most of your crew were uncomfortable over something in the Mess last night. Took me a few minutes to realise that none of you were smoking...even when offered. Is the ban on smoking just in the Navy?"
Mike shook his head and laughed. "I've noticed that you're what we'd call a really heavy smoker. It's something of a socially unacceptable practice these days. Cigarette advertising was banned years ago and the cost of a packet of cigarettes in Australia, at any rate, is enough to make a lot of people quit."
Biggles gazed at his companion in genuine puzzlement.
"What's wrong with smoking, for heavens sake?"
"Bad for your health, among other issues. Huge number of people have died from…" Mike paused as he realised he was walking into the minefield of revealing the future. "Look, I know it's okay in the here and now. You don't need to worry about what's going to happen in another fifty or sixty years. We're your guests and I'll make sure it's not an issue for any of my people."
Biggles was silent for a moment as he contemplated his companion, then he gave a crooked grin.
"Fair enough. We'll have to be careful not to quiz you and your crew too much about the future. Just because I've reached what seems to me to be a logical conclusion regarding the outcome of this present show, doesn't mean we're all going to survive it," he finished seriously. "I need to get my head around this whole concept of the danger of our interaction with you changing history." He shook his head and stared off across the tropical waters where the morning sun was creating a myriad of ever-moving bright flashes as it cast its light over the gently moving sea.
"There's been a mind-boggling number of changes in my own life-time. I can only imagine what changes the future must hold," he said quietly as he turned back to the RAN officer. "Come on, I think I need to take Jack's advice and bring Sergeant Ted Edgars up to scratch regarding your lot."