Without thought, Michael began the turn that would carry him to Andrew's assistance, and then his hands and feet, acting without conscious volition, countered the turn and kept the yellow SESa roaring on its shallow dive for the safety of the British lines.
Michael stared over his shoulder and superimposed on the pattern of swirling aircraft was Centaine's beloved face, the great dark eyes dark with tears, and her words whispered in his head louder than guns and screaming engines, Swear to me you will be there, Michael! With Centaine's words still ringing in his ears, Michael saw the German attack sweep over Andrew's solitary aircraft, and once again miraculously Andrew survived that first deadly wave and whirled to face and fight them.
Michael tried to force himself to turn the yellow SE5a, but his hands would not obey, and his feet were paralysed upon the rudder bars. He watched while the German pilots worked the solitary green aircraft the way a pack of a sheepdogs might round up a stray ewe, driving Andrew relentlessly into each other's crossfire.
He saw Andrew fighting them off with a magnificent display of courage and flying skill, turning into each new attack, and facing it head-on, forcing each antagonist to break away, but always there were others crossing his flanks and quarters, raking him with Spandau fire.
Then Michael saw that Andrew's guns were silenced.
The drum of his Lewis gun was empty, and he knew that it was a lengthy process to reload it. Clearly the Vickers machine-gun on the cowling had overheated and jammed.
Andrew was standing in the cockpit, hammering at the breech of the weapon with both fists, trying to clear it, and Von Richthofen's red Albatros dropped into the killing line behind Andrew.
Oh God, no! Michael heard himself whimpering, still . for safety, stricken as much by his own cowardice running as by Andrew's peril.
Then another miracle happened, for without opening fire the red Albatros turned away slightly, and for an instant flew level with the green SE5a.
Von Richthofen must have seen that Andrew was unarmed, and he had declined to kill a helpless man. As he passed only feet from the cockpit in which Andrew was struggling with the blocked Vickers, he lifted one hand in a laconic salute, homage to a courageous enemy - and then turned away in pursuit of the rest of the fleeing British SE5as.
Thank you, God, Michael croaked.
Von Richthofen's fight followed him into the turn. No, not all of them followed him. There was a single Albatros that had not broken off the engagement with Andrew. It was a sky-blue machine with its top wing chequered black and white, like a chessboard. It fell into the killing line behind Andrew that Von Richthofen had vacated, and Michael heard the stuttering rush of its Spandau.
Flame burst into full bloom around the silhouette of Andrew's head and shoulders as his fuel tank exploded.
Fire, the airman's ultimate dread, enveloped him and Michael saw Andrew lift himself out of the flames like a blackened and scorched insect and throw himself over the side of the cockpit, choosing the swift death of the fall to that of the flames.
The green scarf around Andrew's throat was on fire, so that he wore a garland of flame until his body accelerated and the flames were snuffed out by the wind. His body turned with his arms and legs spread out in the form of a crucifix, and dwindled swiftly away. Michael lost sight of him before he struck the earth 10,000 feet below.
In the name of all that is holy, couldn't anyone have let us know that Von Richthofen had moved back into the sector? Michael shouted at the squadron adjutant. Isn't there any bloody intelligence in this army? Those desk wallahs at Division are responsible for the murder of Andrew and six other men we lost today! That is really unfair, old man, the adjutant murmured, as he puffed on his pipe. You know how this fellow Von Richthofen works. Will-o'- the-wisp, and all that stuff. Von Richthofen had devised the strategy of loading his aircraft on to open goods trucks and shuttling the entire Jagdstaffel up and down the line. Appearing abruptly, with his sixty crack pilots, wherever he was least expected, wracking dreadful execution amongst the unprepared Allied airmen for a few days or a week, and then moving on again.
I telephoned Division as soon as the first of our planes landed and they had only just received the intelligence themselves. They think Von Richthofen and his circus have taken up temporary residence at the old airstrip just south of Douai- A lot of good that does us now, with Andrew dead. As he said it, the enormity of it at last hit Michael, and his hands began to shake. He felt a nerve jumping in his cheek. He had to turn away to the small window of the cottage that the adjutant used as the squadron office.
Behind him the adjutant remained silent, giving Michael time to collect himself.
The old airstrip at Douai- Michael thrust his hands into his pockets to keep them still, and he drove his mind from the memory of Andrew to consider instead the technical aspects -those new gun emplacements, they must have moved up to guard Von Richthofen's jagdstaffel. Michael, you are commanding the squadron, at least temporarily, until Division confirms or appoints another commander. Michael turned back, hands still in pockets, and nodded, not yet trusting his voice.
You will have to draw up a new duty roster, the adjutant prompted him gently, and Michael shook his head slightly as though to clear it.
We can't send out less than full squadron strength, he said, not with the circus out there. Which means that we can't maintain full-time daylight cover over the designated squadron sector. The adjutant nodded in agreement. It was obvious that to send out single flights was suicidal.
What is our operational strength? Michael demanded.
At the moment, eight, four machines were badly shot up. If it goes on like this, it's going to be a bloody April, I am afraid. All right, Michael nodded. We will scrub the old roster. We can only fly two more sorties today. All eight aircraft. Noon and dusk. Keep the new chums out of it as much as possible. The adjutant was making notes, and as Michael concentrated on his new duties, his hands stopped shaking and that corpse-grey pallor of his face improved. Telephone Division and warn them that we will not be able to cover the sector adequately. Ask them when we can expect to be reinforced. Tell them that an estimated six new batteries have been moved up to-'Michael read the map references off his note-pad -and tell them also that I noticed a design modification on the Albatroses of the circus. He explained the relocation of the engine radiator. Tell them I estimate the boche have sixty of these new Albatros in Von Richthofen's Jagdstaffel. When you have done all that call me, and we will work out a new roster, but warn the lads there will be a squadron sweep at noon. Now I need a shave and a bath. Mercifully, there was no
