by NICHOLX, 09.09.22
4480 words
We climbed to 3000 feet, then leveled. Our primary objective was reconnaissance: German troop or armored movements would be recorded and passed on to artillery units. At this altitude we were vulnerable even from small arms ground fire, but we flew low to maintain ground visibility, as the air was hazy at best.
We flew southeast in diamond formation, in a zigzag pattern. Captain Renaud flew point, Scotty and Rolf flank, and Karl and I brought up the rear. We covered about sixty miles and no troop movements were observed, then Captain Renaud gave the home signal. We turned and zig-zagged northwest toward base.
About thirty miles from our airfield, we spotted them at two o'clock high: five Fokker triplanes coming from the east. As they came within range, I heard the tak-tak-tak of their Spandau machine guns. My heart started racing like a triphammer! I think it was not fear that I felt, rather excitement upon this first combat confrontation: there was no time to be afraid, I had to act! Following Renaud's directive, we held formation and banked right, making us smaller targets but also bringing us head to head with the Fokkers at a closing speed of two hundred mph! Gripping the stick like my cock in my right hand, with my left I fired the Vickers intermittently, hitting nothing. Within seconds the two groups converged with guns blazing and passed by each other. Surprisingly there were no head-on collisions, then the Boche and we were headed in exact opposite directions. Our foes quickly reversed direction, my comrades turned to meet them and the crazy dogfight was on! I had no bag of tricks, but the 'Immelmann Turn' maneuver flashed through my mind: I pulled back hard on the stick, going into a near-vertical climb, and just before the stall I kicked rudder, turning me one hundred eighty degrees. Then I slid back down the climb curve, joining the fray at increased speed. To my surprise I got on the tail of a Boche who must have been as inexperienced as I. As he crossed my sights I fired the Vickers, slightly leading him. He trailed oily smoke, went inverted, then nose-dived. He jumped and I saw his chute open. I was glad I had not killed him but was elated with my first victory. My euphoria was short lived however, as my wings and rudder took a lethal hail of bullets from the Fokker tailing me!
I broke right, then left, then right, rolled and fishtailed wildly, made a loop, but could not evade my pursuer as another hail of bullets riddled my fuselage. Luckily Karl slipped behind and above him and dissuaded him with a salvo from his Vickers. My attacker appeared to have taken some damage, rolled left and spiraled toward ground. As my foe passed beneath me I saw the red/white/black of his top wing, and with a sickening feeling I thought that it must be Helga! Good Christ, no! It didn't matter that she had fired at me! I would not have known her from Eve, yet I did not want her to die!
I glanced at the skirmish, and apparently the Boche, down now by five to three, had disengaged. I signaled to Karl that I was alright, he rejoined our group, and I decided to follow down the foe that Karl had vanquished.
I stayed within one hundred meters behind her as she spiraled slowly down. She was not trailing smoke but her flight looked a little unsteady, finally setting down on a snow-covered field. I stayed behind her and landed, staying about fifty meters from her craft, and cut my engine. I could see now that the pilot was a woman, and she appeared to be having difficulty climbing out of the cockpit. Was she injured? I grabbed my small med kit and jumped down onto the frozen snow. I wore a sidearm, but did not loose the holster strap. Except for the crunching of snow, all was quiet as I approached her. As I got within twenty feet of her, she was sitting on the side of her cockpit and was about to jump down. She drew her handgun. "Komm nicht näher!" she snapped.
I knew some German, and thought it best to stop. I raised my hands, the med kit in my left hand. She was young, and her face was beautiful; I wondered about the rest that was hidden beneath her leather flying togs. She jumped down and grimaced in pain. She had trouble standing.
"Französisch??" she gasped.
"Nein, Amerikanisch," I said. "Sprechen Sie Englisch?"
"Ja, ich kann Englisch. What is your name?" she said.
"Billy Jones," I said. "And yours, please?"
"Helga Schulz. Why did you follow me down, Herr Jones?" She grimaced again, I noticed blood dripping from her left sleeve, which was torn near the shoulder.
"I thought you might have been wounded, I wanted to help. You are bleeding, I have some medical supplies in this kit."
"It is a small wound, however very painful. Your comrade's bullet nicked my arm. You say you want to help me yet a few moments ago you might have killed me in combat. Why would you help an enemy?" She teetered and swooned, then leaned against her plane for support.
"We are sadly compelled to be enemies, but still we remain mensch, as you said in your letter," I said.
"Ah, so you read my letter last night?"
"Nein, but my captain read it aloud. Please, let me help you. There is a small farmhouse about a hundred paces behind me. Could you make it there if I help you?"
She holstered her pistol. "You are very kind. I will try," she smiled.
A light snowfall began. As we neared the house, the snow had increased to a blizzard. We could then scarcely discern the house, which looked deserted as there was no smoke from its chimney. Certain she was weak from loss of blood, I carried her in my arms the last thirty paces. Our faces were close now. She was blond, and her eyes were a beautiful green, much like two other German girls I knew. I insisted to myself that I was not going to fall in love with her, but as surely as I lost the aerial battle with her, I knew I was rapidly losing this one.
The little house was dark and almost certainly deserted. Still, out of habit I rapped on the door a few times, then opened it. The house was almost as cold inside as it was outside. I made Helga comfortable on the big sofa near the fireplace, then brought in some firewood from the porch and started a fire. The little house started to warm, then I attended to Helga's wound. It was a deep nick, but bone had not been hit. I applied antiseptic powder to the wound, bandaged and taped it, and the bleeding stopped.
She put her hand on my shoulder. "Danke, Billy. I would like to thank you with a kiss. Would you be alright, kissing your enemy?" she smiled.
"You are no enemy, not now, not ever," I said. "Helga--" my voice caught.
"Hush," she said, drawing me to her. "There is no need for words. I know what you are feeling inside."
"How...how can you know...what I am feeling?" I said.
"Denn so fühle ich mich auch...oh, I mean because I feel the same."
"I understood. Ich kann etwas Deutsch," I smiled.
"Well then, kiss bitte," she smiled.
We kissed, tenderly, and held the kiss a long, long time. The kiss finally broke and I said, "You need some serious rest, and something good and hot to drink. I'm going to rummage through the kitchen, maybe there is some tea or coffee."
I found some teabags and sugar. I tried the sink but no water came; probably frozen pipes. Likewise, the stove was out of gas. No matter, plenty of good clean snow outside. I stepped outside, filled a pan with snow, and put it on the fire to boil.
"So, mein liebchen, soon we will have hot sugared tea," I said.
"Bitte, sit beside me, Billy. How did you learn German?"
"In Iowa, I lived on a farm in Kossuth county, and there was a neighboring farm owned by a German couple, Hans and Gertrude Schulz. They had two daughters, and I learned some German from them. I also read and studied some German literature."
"Those girls are twins, and their names are Kelly and Keely, are they not?" she said.
"What...how do you know that?"
"Because Hans and Gertrude are my uncle and aunt. They left Germany many years before the war to begin new lives in Iowa. We corresponded by mail until the war curtailed that. Small world, as you Americans say," she smiled.
I glanced outside, and the blizzard was now a complete whiteout. We could not take off in such weather.
"Then Kelly and Keely are your cousins?" I said.
"Ja, and from their letters they are very sweet girls," she said. "I hope to visit them, once this senseless war has ended."
"Yes, I know, they are very...very sweet," I said, not meeting her eyes. But I think she read my thoughts.
The water boiled. I went to the kitchen and made two large steaming cups of tea, with plenty of sugar. We sipped our tea, which warmed us nicely.
