Suddenly, coming from the rear on both sides of the Connie, there was a burst of tracer fire—four red lines arching across the sky—and then another, and finally a third, single line of tracers, brighter than the first two.
“Not to worry, Hansel,” Frade said. “What they’re doing is testing their guns.”
“For Christ’s sake, I know tracers when I see them,” von Wachtstein said. “What was the last single burst? The bright one?
“That came from the Hispano-Suiza 20mm machine cannon,” Frade said. “The parallel tracer lines came from the four .50-caliber Brownings. You didn’t know that?”
Frade looked out his side window. The P-38 pilot who had tested his guns had pulled up next to them. He waved and grinned cheerfully.
Clete could see enough of the YAK-3s now to know that he had never seen one before. He looked at the leading edge of their wings waiting for the flashes of their weaponry.
They never came.
All of a sudden, the noses of the Russian airplanes lowered and they dived, quickly becoming smaller and smaller dots.
“I think the decision was made not to shoot us down,” von Wachtstein said softly.
“They would have had to go through Archie and his guys to do that. I wasn’t worried.”
Frade reached for the radio control panel and switched to Air-Ground Channel Four.
“Tempelhof, this is South American Airways Zero Zero Four.”
“Double Zero Four, Tempelhof. I read you five by five. How me?”
“Five by five, Tempelhof. We are approximately sixty miles out at ten thousand, indicating three-fifty. Request approach and landing.”
“Double Zero Four, maintaining present course, begin to descend to five thousand feet at this time. Report when you have the field in sight.”
“Understand descend to five thousand and report when I can see you.”
“Affirmative. Be advised there have been reports of Soviet aircraft operating on your course.”
“Tempelhof, be advised my Little Brother and his pals chased the bad birds away. Beginning descent to five thousand at this time.”
“Tempelhof, Zero Zero Four. At six thousand and I have the field in sight.”
“South American Double Zero Four, maintain present altitude until over the field. Then commence descent in ninety-second three-sixty-degree turns. Report when at fifteen hundred.”
“Understand when over the field, commence ninety-second circular descent to fifteen hundred.”
“Double Zero Four. Affirmative.”
“I’m surprised anybody’s still alive,” Clete said as they slowly descended over the rubble of what was once the German capital. “Jesus, this is worse than Cologne or Frankfurt.”
“I don’t think Frankfurt or Cologne had as many thousand-bomber raids by the Americans in the daytime, followed by English thousand-plane raids at night,” von Wachtstein said matter-of-factly. “Hamburg is supposed to be even worse.”
“Tempelhof, South American Zero Zero Four at fifteen hundred.”
“Tempelhof clears South American Zero Zero Four as Number One to land on Runway Two Seven. Wind is at five from the north. Be advised there is an antiaircraft half-track and an M-4 Sherman tank parked near the threshold.”
“Understand Number One on Two Seven.”
“Flaps to twenty, gear down,” von Wachtstein ordered.
“Flaps at twenty, gear down and locked,” Clete replied after a moment, then said: “Try not to bend the bird, Hansel.”
“Jesus, that’s enormous,” Clete said as their landing roll brought them close to the terminal building.
“It’s supposed to be one of the twenty largest buildings in the world,” von Wachtstein said, and then added, “The last time I saw it, I came in here dead-stick, with oil all over the windscreen of my Focke-Wulf. When I finally touched down, my left gear collapsed.”
“I know the feeling, Hansel. You operated out of here?”
“No. So far as I know, we never used it for military operations. When they pulled me out of the Focke-Wulf, a guy asked me if I didn’t know I was not supposed to land here.”
Frade saw that there were only three aircraft under the arc of the huge building, all of them Piper Cub L-4s and all with the Second Armored Division insignia painted on the fuselage. The engine of one was running, and as von Wachtstein brought the Constellation to a stop and shut it down, that L-4 began to taxi toward the runway.
“There’s Mattingly,” von Wachtstein said, pointing.
Colonel Robert Mattingly was standing in front of the welcoming party—three other officers and half a dozen soldiers—all of them wearing the triangle patch of the Second Armored Division. Behind them was a small fleet of three-quarter-ton trucks and jeeps.
A strange-looking vehicle appeared from behind the trucks and jeeps and drove up to the rear of the Connie’s fuselage.
Von Wachtstein unstrapped himself and then—not without effort—put his head through the small window and looked out.
He pulled his head back in and reported, “It’s a hydraulic stairs. I wonder where they found that?”
He took another look, then announced, “Mattingly looks like he’s going to come up the stairs.”
Clete unstrapped himself, walked through the passenger compartment, and opened the door.
Mattingly loudly announced in Spanish: “Good morning, Captain. I am Colonel Oscar Hammerstein, the civil affairs officer of the United States Second Armored Division. May I address your passengers, please?”
“Yes, of course,” Frade said, equally loudly.
The name Oscar Hammerstein rang a bell, but Frade couldn’t put a face or anything else to it.
Mattingly came onto the Connie, moved past Clete, stood in the center of the aisle, and loudly said, “If I may have your attention, gentlemen?”
When he had it, he went on: “I am Colonel Oscar Hammerstein, the civil affairs officer of the United States Second Armored Division. I have the privilege of being your escort during your short visit to Berlin.
“On behalf of General White and the officers and the troopers of Hell on Wheels, permit me to welcome you to Berlin.
“You will now please disembark. You will be taken to the Argentine Embassy under the protection of the Second Armored Division. Your luggage and the supplies will shortly follow. The aircraft crew will remain here at Tempelhof. There is absolutely nothing to fear from the Russians, as we have every reason to believe, despite what you may have heard, that they will respect your diplomatic status.
“I’m sure your diplomatic personnel here will be able to answer any questions you might have before they leave for home, probably about oh-nine-hundred hours—that’s nine A.M.—tomorrow.
“I look forward to getting to know those of you who will be staying.
“And now, please begin to debark. Be careful! That ladder was a little unsteady as I came up here. Thank you for your kind attention. Once again, welcome to Berlin!”
Mattingly then quickly made his way up the aisle to the cockpit. Gonzalo Delgano quickly followed him, and on his heels came Vega and Peralta. Frade got there last, and closed the door to the passenger compartment behind them.
“There’s a hotel here,” Mattingly began, “and—”
