A Bitter Wind, page 34
“Thank you,” Johnny said, his voice choked with emotion. “Sally will love to be back, I’m sure.”
“Well, you go bring her back, but take your time about it,” Conan Doyle said. “There’s a staff car parked out front. You’d best be on your way.”
“Is that my staff car?” I asked Diana after Johnny scurried off.
“You’ve heard of Lend-Lease, haven’t you?” Diana said. Angelika held a hand across her mouth to stifle a laugh.
“Enough about stolen automobiles,” Conan Doyle said. “We should let Angelika change into something less bloodstained and get back to work. There’s much to do.”
“I need to check on Constable Sallow and drive him back into town,” I said to Diana as Angelika took her leave. “I’ll see you later.”
“For how long?” she asked.
“Harding said to meet him at SHAEF in Paris,” I said. “But not tonight.”
“Then we have tonight, which is all the time in the world,” Diana said, and brushed my arm as she walked by.
“I shall drive Constable Sallow,” Kaz said. “He may enjoy a turn in the Aston Martin, and you, after all, have kindly given your purloined vehicle to the cause of true love.”
“And a damn good cause it is,” I said as we stepped outside. I stopped to breathe in the cold air, letting it fill my lungs. We stood at each other’s side and watched the settling sun send long shadows across the runways. Engines started up along the hangars. It was a clear night, promising punishment to steel, stone, and flesh in the hours ahead.
“It must’ve been tough seeing Angelika in danger,” I said. “Not what we expected.”
“No. Quite a surprise,” he said as he took a step toward the sports car. Then he stopped and turned to me. “But what really bothered me was to hear her plead with Bigsby.”
“You can’t hold that against her,” I said. “She must have been frightened.”
“That never concerned me. No, it was because I understood she did it to lull him into a false sense of security,” Kaz said. “It was a calculated plan, and I knew she would unleash certain violence upon the man. The knife was my gift to her, remember.”
“She may have saved Sallow’s life, if not her own,” I said.
“Yes. The constable benefited from her quick thinking. But, Billy, what bothers me is that my sweet little sister has become a killer. She had to be, to survive in Poland. To save others. She’s endured terrible brutalities and still overcame what the war did to her. But who will she be after the killing is over, and how will she survive the peace?”
“How will any of us?” I said.
Kaz held my eyes, then gave the slightest shrug. How could anyone know?
He climbed into the Aston Martin, started the engine, and drove into the night.
Historical Note
THE FULL HISTORY of electronic warfare during the Second World War is a fascinating story filled with breakthrough scientific developments, top secret hardware, and human ingenuity mixed with a hefty dose of deceptive guile. Radar jamming and the spoofing of German ground-to-air communications were all part of the life-and-death struggle for dominance in the skies above Europe. Mandrel, Dina, Airborne Cigar, Jostle, Jackal, and H2S were code names for the actual devices used in radio countermeasures work.
In researching this topic, I was surprised to learn of the extensive role played by German-speaking Jewish refugees. As my previous novel Proud Sorrows detailed the US Army’s use of German speakers for interrogation purposes, this story shows how the British used the native-language skills of young refugees against the Nazis in the air war.
The RAF special operators aboard aircraft and the WAAF wireless telegraphy operators on the ground consisted of many former refugees as well as volunteers from all over the world who brought to bear their fluency in languages and their desire to play a role in defeating the enemy.
The character of Johnny Adler is based on Reuben (later “Ron”) Herscovitz, a special operator who brought civilian shoes on each raid. When asked why, he replied, “My friend, if you are shot down, you will either be killed or taken to a proper prison camp under the control of the Geneva Convention. I am a Jew, and as the Herrenvolk would like to liquidate my race, I aim to get away from the wreckage as soon as possible. How can I possibly do that in heavy fur-lined flying boots?”
As there are stories of Jewish special operators being tortured upon capture, or in one case committing suicide after parachuting, Reuben’s caution was well warranted.
As I researched radio countermeasures during the war, I stumbled across the fact that Jean Conan Doyle, fifth child of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, was an intelligence officer with the RAF. I simply could not resist having her play a role in this story, given she is only two degrees of separation from Sherlock Holmes himself. Squadron Officer Conan Doyle administered the Y (Wireless Interception) Service facility at RAF Kingsdown outside of London, conducting work much as described in this novel. I did take the liberty of shifting her location to RAF Hawkinge, to take advantage of the proximity to the White Cliffs of Dover. Jean Conan Doyle served for thirty years in the Royal Air Force.
The war in Yugoslavia was a confusing mix of German and Italian occupation troops, local fascist allies, monarchists, Communists, and Chetniks. The mainly Serbian Chetniks under Draža Mihailović conducted significant guerrilla operations against the Germans early in the war, but heavy civilian reprisals led them to pull back and await a hoped-for Allied invasion. They were allied at one time with Josip Broz Tito’s Partisan Army, but the alliance did not hold. Tito’s Partisans were aligned with Stalin and the Soviet Union, and atrocities on all sides were common.
The Western Allies soon diverted all support to Tito, abandoning the Chetniks even as they worked to rescue downed airmen and shelter them at great risk. The Office of Strategic Services organized operations based at Pranjani to bring in C-47s to an improvised airstrip.
Ultimately 417 Allied airmen were airlifted from Chetnik territory, of which 343 were Americans.
After the war, Draža Mihailović was arrested by Tito’s newly established government. Despite support from Americans who had been saved by the Chetniks, Mihailović was found guilty of high treason in what was regarded as an unfair show trial. He was executed on July 17, 1946. His last words were: “I wanted much; I began much; but the gale of the world carried away me and my work.”
George McGovern, three-term senator from South Dakota and the Democratic nominee in the 1972 presidential election, was a B-24 pilot during the Second World War. In December 1944 he did make the dangerous landing on the island of Vis, as described in this story. Coming in with one dead engine and another on fire, he safely landed on an airfield half the length normally required for a heavy bomber and saved his crew. For that feat he was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross.
McGovern never publicized his heroism for political purposes. He did cooperate with author Stephen E. Ambrose, who wrote about McGovern’s service in his book The Wild Blue. McGovern’s understanding was that the book was about the air war in general, but when he saw how prominently he was featured, he declined to participate in any publicity events, shunning the spotlight. He was a man from another time.
Acknowledgments
AS ALWAYS, I owe a debt of thanks to my wife, Deborah Mandel, who has listened to every line of this book read aloud. She also has done a diligent job of reading and commenting on the first draft with a precise editor’s touch. As have first readers Liza Mandel and Michael Gordon, who provided important feedback and found those pesky, elusive typos.
I am very lucky to work with the highly professional and hardworking staff at Soho Press. They excel at everything from editing, book design, cover art, and publicity, and they all are a pleasure to work with.
My agents, Paula Munier and Gina Panettieri of Talcott Notch Literary Services, are the best guides I could ask for to navigate the world of publishing.
I owe so much to the dedicated booksellers at independent bookstores across the country. So much of the success of this series is due to their efforts. I also owe a debt of thanks to the many librarians who keep their shelves stocked with the Billy Boyle novels, making these stories accessible to so many people.
The same also goes for you, the reader, especially those who have been at Billy’s side throughout this journey. You’re why he’s still here, and why there are more stories to be told.
James R. Benn, A Bitter Wind
