Operation Afterlight, page 33
Grant finally took a sip of what little of his beer wasn’t already plastered over him. It was terrible, like every other pint he’d had in Britain. It brought thoughts of Barbados, and that new Red Stripe beer that had become popular in Jamaica, and of sipping lager on white sand while the sun set over the Caribbean. The war was over. No more freezing nights. No more training, no more long hours in the cockpit, no more skies blackened with flak and the hunting shapes of enemy fighters.
Barbados was calling. Home.
He realised he was staring out of the rear window, watching Durban and Lane. They had been talking. Now they stood in silence, inches away from each other. Tentatively, her hands reached out and took his. Grant felt like a voyeur, but couldn’t move. He remembered Bony’s letter in his pocket. Now was not the time to deliver it.
Sarah Lane leaned forward, kissed Durban on the forehead, and walked away, towards the back gate of the beer garden and the waiting darkness.
She did not look back.
Grant pulled the folded paper from his pocket. It fell open in his hand.
By the time Grant pushed apart the double doors again, Durban had lit another cigarette and sat on a wooden bench, staring at the sky. Like he already missed it, Grant thought.
“You should be inside, Johnny, enjoying the party.”
“So should you, sir.”
“I will. Soon.” He took a deep draw, blowing out a smoke ring. It rose towards the distant stars, then faded to nothing.
“Bony… pardon me, Flight Lieutenant Wright… asked me to give you this, sir.”
Durban’s eyes flickered to the letter, then returned to silent contemplation of the heavens. “You read it?”
“Yes, sir. I didn’t mean to.”
“Relax, Johnny. Have a seat.”
Grant slid onto the bench opposite. He felt horribly sober. A drunken roar of delight came from within the bar as Finny read out Churchill’s address to the crowds in Whitehall. “God bless you all,” the Australian shouted. “This is your victory. In our long history, we have never seen a greater day than this. Everyone, man or woman, has done their best.”
The cheers seemed a long way from here.
“Is Squadron Officer Lane coming back, sir?”
Durban sighed. “I hope so. One day. When her work is finished.” For the first time, he seemed to notice his untouched pint glass and raised it to his lips. Just that. He didn’t so much as sip it.
Grant pushed the unfolded letter across the table. Wing Commander Durban. Your request for voluntary service in the Far East has been accepted. You are to report to…
“Why, sir?”
“Someone has to,” Durban said calmly.
“But not you, sir. You’ve done your bit. The war is over.”
“Tell that to the Japanese Empire, Johnny. God knows they won’t listen to the rest of us.”
There was no self-pity in Durban’s tone, Grant realised. No self-aggrandisement, either. Merely a rational acceptance that there was a job to be done. He thought again of Barbados, of the joy on his Murr’s face when she saw him safely home, of the pride he would feel in his RAF uniform even as he campaigned for an independent Barbados.
A job well done.
“Understood, sir,” he said. “I’ll put my request in tomorrow.”
Durban shook his head. “No, you won’t. First, you’ll nurse the same hangover as everyone else. Then you’ll start planning how to become Prime Minister of Barbados.”
“Sir?”
“I’m still your squadron commander, Flying Officer Grant,” Durban said, the hint of a smile crossing his face. “Consider it an order, if you prefer.” He rose to his feet and offered his hand. “It’s been an honour, Johnny.”
“Thank you, sir.” Grant took the rock-steady hand and shook it.
The double doors creaked open. May poked her head out. “You gentlemen want another drink?”
“The next round for everyone is on me, May,” Durban said. “I think it’s about time I pulled my weight in the bar. Maybe showed those Philistines how to play that piano properly.”
“Right you are, Wing Commander,” May said. “I suppose I’d best go get them warmed up for you.” She disappeared back inside and was promptly greeted by a string of wolf whistles.
“How about it then, Johnny? Should we drink enough to regret it in the morning?” Durban turned for the door.
“Sir?”
“Yes?”
“Do you think people will remember Jan Stahl? What he did for the world?”
Durban stood and looked up at the sky again for a long time, the cigarette forgotten in his hand. Somewhere in the darkness, aero engines rumbled unseen. Transports, not bombers or night fighters. The loud bangs and flashes that rippled across the sky were fireworks, not flak.
Car horns beeped. Songs rang out. A nation and a continent celebrated.
“No,” Durban said finally. “I don’t believe they will. And I think that’s the way Stahl would have wanted it.”
He held the door for Grant, and they walked inside to the biggest cheer of the night.
Acknowledgments
This book began life as a love letter to the wartime RAF. Even as it expanded to include SOE, the German resistance and other elements, that desire to pay some measure of tribute, however small and inadequate, to the aircrew and others who fought the Second World War never changed. My own eighteen years in the RAF saw a lot of changes in the Service, but with each one of those years, my admiration for the men and women who served from 1939 to 1945 only grew.
Beyond wishing to celebrate the wider RAF, several particular individuals inspired my main characters, to a greater or lesser degree.
Wing Commander Andrew Durban is my tribute to Guy Gibson, particularly when it comes to personal bravery and the hidden costs of combat stress, but with elements of Group Captain Leonard Cheshire, a later commander of the legendary “Dambusters” of 617 Squadron and perhaps the only other RAF pilot of the war who could compete with Gibson for fame or decorations.
Squadron Officer Sarah Lane of SOE’s ‘X’ Section (and Women’s Auxiliary Air Force) is based heavily on the less-known but equally impressive Squadron Officer Vera Atkins WAAF of ‘F’ Section.
Johnny Grant is an amalgam of several of the roughly five hundred young men from the Caribbean who volunteered to fly in the wartime RAF; more than a third would die in action. The closest direct model for Grant is probably Flight Lieutenant John Ebanks from Jamaica, a Mosquito navigator, but I also felt compelled to include major elements of Flying Officer Errol Barrow, who would later become the first Prime Minister of the independent Barbados. Of the eleven other men who enlisted with Barrow as the “Barbados Second Contingent”, six were killed.
Of the POV characters, only Obersturmbannführer Jan Stahl has no historical antecedent. Nevertheless, he represents the brave (if ultimately failed) sacrifice of those who fought against Nazism from the inside, including trying to overthrow Hitler. Their motivations varied, from the moral to the practical, but almost all paid a deadly price for daring to oppose the Führer.
Stahl’s biggest influence appears in his own right in the book – the doomed Admiral Wilhelm Canaris. Similarly, I have done almost nothing to change the larger-than-life character of Air Vice Marshal Sir Basil Embry who, believing that he should order no one to do anything he wouldn’t do himself, did indeed disguise himself as Wing Commander Smith to fly on some of the most dangerous and challenging missions his aircrew undertook. I must also spare a word for the legendary Danish SBS officer Anders Lassen. Not content with stealing Lassen’s name for my author pseudonym, I could not resist including the heavily-fictionalised but, I hope, suitably similar “Major Anders”.
Producing any novel is quite an undertaking. The actual writing can and must be a very solitary process, but getting it over the line is something of a team sport – especially when you are trying to produce fiction with as much historical accuracy as possible. A huge thank you goes to my publisher, Humfrey Hunter of Silvertail Books, who has shown such faith in me – I hope this is the first of many projects together. Similarly, my gratitude to Rowland White for his friendship, support, and for his peerless Mosquito. I could not begin to list all the books and resources I used for this novel, but three books stand out as particularly critical and I cannot recommend any of them too highly. James Holland (Dam Busters), Sarah Helm (Vera Atkins: A Life in Secrets) and Mark Johnson (Caribbean Volunteers at War) – I owe each of you a pint. If my book is accurate, the credit is mostly yours. Any epic fails are my own.
Of course, few true fans of the de Havilland Mosquito will be unfamiliar with Frederick E. Smith and 633 Squadron – I picked up the first sequel, Operation Rhine Maiden, at a school fair when I was twelve, and it simultaneously filled me with a love for the Mosquito, a desire to join the RAF, and an urge to write novels for a living. Given that I later served in the RAF and have now written two novels heavily based around the Mosquito, it would not be a stretch to call it the single most influential book I’ve ever read.
Personal thanks go to Maxwell Alexander Drake for his sage advice (I hope you’re pleased at the relative lack of passive voice), and to my long-time critique circle – Genghis, Rob O, Will M, Lori L, Michael G, Dan B, Benno, Rob H., Barto, Mitch, Peter R, Tim C, Dezling and many others – you’ve all made me a better writer.
To my wonderful wife Brie (the long-haired Air Vice Marshal in my life) and to my brilliant children Aidan and Charlie – I hope it was worth all the time I spent hiding from you, rattling away at my keyboard. All royalties will, of course, be spent on you!
And finally, to bring it back to where we started, to all the men and women of the Royal Air Force, past and present, I hope this book will not displease you.
Per Ardua ad Astra, my friends.
Robert Lassen, Germany, 2024
Robert Lassen
Robert Lassen was born in Oxford and raised in Cheshire, and spent 18 years as an officer in the UK Royal Air Force. Now retired from service, he lives in Germany with his American wife and their two children. He is the author of the K Department series of novels, about a secretive wartime UK Government intelligence organisation using borderline supernatural methods to fight back against the Nazis. He was also one of the lead high fantasy tie-in writers for Sony Online Entertainment’s Everquest Next game project. For more information on Robert Lassen and his books, as well as free stories and fan content, please visit his website at www.robertlassen.com.
First published in by Silvertail Books in 2024
www.silvertailbooks.com
Copyright © 2024 Robert Lassen
The right of Robert Lassen to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Design and Patents Act 1988 A catalogue record of this book is available from the British Library.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in a retrieval system, in any form or by any means, without permission in writing from Silvertail Books or the copyright holder.
All characters in this publication other than those clearly in the public domain are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Robert Lassen, Operation Afterlight
