The Last Mission

Ian blinked as he entered the bright sunshine outside the church door. He took a few steps, stopped and sneezed…once, twice, and a third time. Wiping his nose on his handkerchief, he looked up and saw his father coming his way.

“My boy, I’ve just been talking to the parson, and he mentioned you missed choir practice last week. He wanted to know if you’ll be attending tonight’s practice? I won’t ask where you were, but I assume it has something to do with your trip today, eh?

“Well, I…uh…Eddy said he had a surprise, but first we needed to prep the barn and…”

“Ah, exactly as I suspected. Let me guess, you were out ‘tinkering’ with Eddy and ‘time got away from you?’ Well then, I’ll just let the church know that they’ll be missing your tenor voice from now on.”

“No…that’s not necessary…Look, Dad, I’m going flying this afternoon, and I’ll be back to practice tonight. I just need to get my kit from the car.”

“Alright, be careful. I’ll be at the club. Ring me there when you get home.”

Ian collected his leathers and gear from the trunk and walked across the parking lot. Across the street, propped up against an open-top convertible, stood a young man checking out the young women getting into the cars. Occasionally he would wink or make a comment, generally causing blushing and twittering among the young ladies.

Ian sauntered up:

“Eddy, I wish you wouldn’t tease them so. I know you aren’t interested in any of them.”

“Aw, they like it. And you know I can’t help it. Anyway, put your kit into the boot and lets go. I’ve got a surprise for you.”

“I know, you’ve told me.”

Ian dumped his stuff and climbed in. Eddy squealed out of the parking lot and out onto the road.

“You’re not going to believe what I’ve got to show you…”

“Umm…since you won’t tell me ‘till we get there, I demand a change of subject.”

“To what? The weather? How about the abdication crisis?”

The car tires squealed as Eddy made a hard left.

“Oh, wait, I know!…the latest from Spain….Lets see Ian, last week the fascists were able to airlift parts of their army from Africa to Seville. Right over the ‘Rock!’ So much for our neutrality. The big news this week, is that we’ve formed a ‘non-intervention committee’ with the French, Germans, and Italy.”

“So I take it that the parties involved are rushing arms to the conflict?”

“Well, right now most arms arriving seem to be from the fascists, but they deny it, of course! Seems an Italian Savoia-Marchetti 81 bomber came down in Algeria…so we know that the bastards are lying.”



“What about arms for the republic?”

“The French were supposed to supply airplanes and guns, but our government is pressuring Blum to restrict the sale of armaments to the socialists. I’m not sure yet what their response will be. Such is the state of our ‘non-intervention.’ We’ll protest the fascist supplies which arrive while tying the hands of the properly elected Spanish state by starving it of its supporters. We ought to be ashamed.”

“Yeah…But, isn’t the popular front just a cover for the communists?”

“Even if it were so, the front was democratically elected, so it is the legitimate government.”

“But is it? Is that the kind of government that Spaniards really want? The Front wants land reform, exaltation of the workers union, class struggle…I find it hard to believe that their victory was not obtained through some coercion.”

“Ah, my friend, you just don’t understand the power of the fascist right. Don’t believe all the propaganda they put out. Even now, they are ‘cleaning’ the zones around Seville of reds and socialists. They say hundreds have died already through summary executions and general lawlessness.”

“You seem awfully well informed…what’s your source on these goings on?”

“Umm…a couple of guys at Dad’s factory have been keeping me informed…Hey, we’re here.”

Eddy drew the car up next to the barn and stopped. Both young men got out and walked toward the door.

“Ian, try not to wet yourself.”

Ian rolled his eyes.

“Must you always be so dramatic?”

“Always…”

…and he opened the door…

Feedback!

grayghost said:

Oh, I can remember days, like that in church, waiting for the sermon to end, and daydreaming about what I would do when it was done. Very well done. Anyone who has ever been to church will be able to identify with that seen.

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Thanks...exactly what I wanted to portray. This is my first non-historical / gameplay AAR so I'm happy I'm getting the ideas across.

Chesterton said:

Interesting update with the alternations between Ian's thoughts and the priest's sermon. Unless I'm mistaken, Ian Clarke seems to be a British pilot. And war is evidently just over the horizon.

edit- actuality nevermind about the war, I just noticed the date is 36 not 39. Still, it's interesting that the begining month is August rather than January.

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Yes, Ian is British...and he does fly. Incredibly prescient comment about war being on the horizon...just closer than you think!

stynlan said:

Great starting posts. The congregation scene was very well structured.

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Thanks for your praise. This style of writing is still new to me and I'm glad to see you like the beginning.

Kurt_Steiner said:

Ian Clark... pilot... last mission...

Spitfire... no... I see a Lanc taking off...

Thou shall reap the whirwilnd, my friend...

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Hmm...I shan't give anything away. Sounds like you've got a pretty good daydream going there yourself!

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Sir Humphrey and Draco Rexus: Thank you for your encouragement, and (as you can see) the next update is up! Thanks for your patience...this one took a bit longer to come together and I'm not entirely happy with it (kept making changes....until I figured I had to put it up and just be done with it).

Feedback and explanations...

El Pip said:

Your constant redrafts were effective, a good update.

Eddie seems well informed, suspiciously so, more there than meets the eye I'll wager. I think. A bit hard to keep track of who was saying what, a few more 'Ian said.' or 'Eddie said/shouted/questioned/somethinged' wouldn't go amiss.

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Thanks, I'll look to improve future such conversations in such a way.

stnylan said:

Eddie, indeed, is awakening my suspicions. From a couple of blokes in the factory? Clearly communist sympathisers!

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Hmm...but do you deny the reality of the sympathisers words? Have no fear, all will be revealed in due time.

Draco Rexus said:

Aye, I have some a sense of vague unease when it comes to "friend" Eddy... although it could be just that silly teenage mentality to be swayed by the ideal while overlooking the reality of a movement.

Nice work, very nice work indeed, Executer!

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You could be right...and then again...you could be right (you might be wrong though ). Thanks for the praise.

grayghost said:

Ahhhhhh! You just pulled a me...or an rcduggan special. Leaving me hanging like that and not showing me what is behind door #1. Nice way to bring in events through casual conversation. Good job.

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Oops, sorry. I would never do such a shameless thing.
Thanks for your kind words.

And now:
I have not been able to update because I've been away from my computer the last week (moving is more disruptive than I thought). As if that weren't enough irritation, I will no longer have daily access to the internet...so future updates may be few and far between for the next few weeks.

Rest assured, however, I will still be writing (I've got the next four updates outlined and the next dozen or so scheduled)...so when I'll be able to resume a regular posting schedule once I'm settled in MD (sometime in the last weeks of May).

Thanks for reading!

The barn door squealed in protest as Eddy hauled it open. Ian coughed as the cool, musty air hit his nostrils. The space was mostly empty, although the walls were hung with a myriad of mechanics tools. The boys entered the cavern slowly, allowing their eyes to adjust to the darkness. Eddy continued talking excitedly:

“I just know you’ll like it. Dad said that I should give ‘em a good proving, so you know what that means, eh?”

Ian just smiled and walked further into the barn. Around the corner he came to a stop a made a low whistle.



“See, Ian, what did I tell you. Isn’t she a nice surprise? It’s a Vega Gull. It’s the newest touring aircraft from Percival Aircraft. A custom version is going to be entered in the Schlesinger Race next month.”

Ian said nothing; he simply walked slowly forward and began feeling the low wing as though it were a frightened stallion. It felt cool and smooth to his touch.

“She’s got a 200 horsepower engine and is capable of 150 knots with a range of 1,000 kilometers…”

“Shh…” Ian said. “She’s beautiful.” He continued to walk around the low winged monoplane and took in its sleek lines and rounded fairings. “I see she seats four. I wonder if we should invite some girls for her ‘maiden’ flight.”

“Ooff, your jokes are terrible, Ian. Besides this is only part of the surprise.”

“What could be better than this…” Ian said, climbing up to peer into the cabin.

“Well, I’ve always said: ‘If one is good, two are better!”

“Eddy, your joking… right?!”

Eddy’s cracked a smile. “Check around the corner, Dad bought a matched pair. Since both needed to be proved, I figured we could take them out today. Plus, it will give us a chance to try formation flying, and a little follow the leader.”

“What are we waiting for! Lets see what they can do!”

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Several hours later, the two Gulls were on their way back towards the field. The British countryside lay below them in its entire summer splendor. The sun was just settling low in the west, making the trees cast long shadows which seemed to point the way home. Ian thought back over the day; pre-fighting the planes, taking off and testing the speed and climb rates, then following Eddy as they buzzed various local interests. He hadn’t had this much fun in weeks. He chuckled as he remembered the herd of cattle nearly stampeding in fright as both planes went screaming overhead barely twenty meters off the ground. His father would probably harrumph in disapproval, but it was all in good fun.

At the thought of his father, the smile disappeared from Ian’s face. Sometime soon he would have to make the choice of school and study. The trouble is, Ian thought, I don’t want to be any of those boring people. The thought of spending the next few years reading dull books and listening to dull professors all in preparation for a dull life as a lawyer or clerk just depressed him. A pocket of turbulence startled him and he corrected the roll with a soft motion of the stick. Ian smiled with pleasure at the feeling of control this gave him. He looked down and watched the sun sparkle off the Mersey and his eyes traced the meandering canal towards the distant haze of Liverpool. Maybe I can convince Dad to let me apply to the RAF…Ian mused. I’ll need to prepare him first though… Ian went on thinking in this manner and soon drew near to the field.

Okay…lined up…flaps down…watch the roll…airspeed down to 70 knots…still lined up…the little flair…Shhhhh! Ian looked up just in time to see Eddie’s Gull at his altitude coming straight at him. Ian quickly pushed down on the stick and then immediately pulled back. His plane dipped just under Eddie’s undercarriage and bounced hard onto the field. Immediately his plane rebounded into the air and then came back down a bit lighter. However, the left tire blew out and the plane turned sharply to the left and ground looped. The left wheel fairing dug into the ground and brought the Gull sharply to a stop, throwing Ian’s head into the cockpit stanchion.

Ian came to several minutes later to the sensation of throbbing from his head and bright lights swirling in his eyes. Shaking his head, he fumbled for the cabin door. To his surprise, it opened unexpectedly, nearly dumping him out into the grass.

“You cheeky bugger, I didn’t expect you to wreck the plane, Ian!”

Eddie was standing over him on the wing, wearing a silly grin.

“From your performance, I’d say you’ve never played chicken before. I must say you sure picked a novel way to avoid me though.”

Ian could not think of a response, so he remained silent.

“Aw, don’t be a poor sport. No harm done. I’ll have the boys see what they can do to repair the wing and undercarriage…Ah, here they come now.”

Ian crawled out of the cabin and dusted off his jacket as a pickup truck came bouncing across the field towards them. Instead of stopping in front of the plane to prepare the tow ropes, however, the truck came and stopped next to them. The driver got out and rushed over to Ian.

“Sir, you must come with us, its your father. There has been…” he looked at Eddy, “some excitement. They told me to pick you up once you came back.”

Feedback

rcduggan said:

moore soon?

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Yes, more is up now...

linque said:

linque taps his foot on ground and seem to wait more

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With an attitude like that...I've been inspired to model a future character after you...see if you can recognize him!

Draco Rexus said:

MD? Really? Being a resident of "The Free State", I have to ask, whereabouts you settlin', my friend?

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Germantown. And where do you reside? I suppose I can't say I don't 'know' anyone in the area now...

Lurkers:
Thanks for your patience everyone. I'll do my best to wrangle some internet time in the next few days.

Long Overdue Feedback

grayghost said:

That was a very nice update. You did a great job of conveying the excitement of the surprise and the love these two men have for flying. Keep it up.

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Thank you kind sir, I hope to.

El Pip said:

Ohhh intrigue! What is this excitement? Good hook it has caught my attention!

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Aha! Gotcha! Sorry about leaving you out there on that cliff for three weeks, but I did learn that skill from some of the best...storey, director, vincent julian, allenby, el pip...oh, hey thats you! Nice to see your AAR updating again...

stnylan said:

As if that which has just occurred was not exciting?

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Yep, got to keep you guys reading!

Draco Rexus said:

Sorry for moving from the reservation here, but I work just up the road from Germantown in the little hamlet (and I mean little and hamlet) of Clarksburg. Now you are correct, you do know someone (in a manner of speaking) that is in MD.

Now, hurry up and get settled and get back to writin' us a fine tale!

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Aw, it didn't look so much like a hamlet, more like a nice, quiet little crossroads...but then I don't live there!

Okay, Okay, update coming up momentarily!

The chair was uncomfortable. Ian shifted position for the umpteenth time and settled back onto the hard back. It was all so surreal. A rhythmic squeaking sound approached and passed the open door as the head nurse made the evening round. The nurse had met Ian and Eddie when they arrived and merely told them to wait for the doctor. A stroke, the doctor had said. He then proceeded to fill the boys in on the procedure for Mr. Clarke’s recovery and the steps taken to ensure it, but Ian could see in his eyes and manner that the situation was hopeless. The only relevant question was how much time remained. To that, the doctor gave no definite answer. After Eddie left to get some dinner, Ian ‘borrowed’ a chair from the nursing station and began keeping vigil at his father’s bedside. Oh God, what do I do now? He thought. He can’t just die without saying goodbye, can he? I’m not ready to bury a second parent… His father’s steady breathing remained unchanged. Ian buried his head in the sheets…

The rain was perfect. It cascaded from the heavens in a perfectly uniform vertical spray that soaked the mourners following the casket up the hill to the crypt. The trees, on a sunny day, would have been a resplendent gold, but now only showed a near uniform beige / gray appearance as though mourning their owner as well. The pall bearers advanced slowly up the drive, their heads uncovered and gray hair plastered to their heads. They had come to accompany their friend and peer to his final resting place. Ian followed them several paces behind, all alone. Ian should have known them since they were friends of his father, but it seemed to Ian that they had no faces. No one but Eddie stood next to Ian during the eulogy. The minister’s words washed over Ian without penetrating. Finally, with a clap, the Bible was closed and the pall bearers lowered the casket into the ground. The mourners faded away, and Ian was left all alone to contemplate the muddy hole another life had ended in. Disgusted with his thoughts, Ian turned and headed for his car.

He drove aggressively through the rain. The trees and winding drive presented the appearance of a tunnel which restricted his forward vision. It seemed that there was blood on the passenger seat, and he struggled to find a reason for it. Then, the road took his attention again as the car wound up and around the hairpin. Stretched out before him was a breathtaking view down into a mountain valley. Ian looked briefly, then angrily whipped the roadster around the hairpin corner and began climbing the mountain road at as high a speed as he dared. For a time, the roar of the engine and the squeal of the tires distracted him. The road seemed lined with figures, some familiar, some not. Most were looking elsewhere, but occasionally one would wave in a friendly fashion at the speeding automobile. Eventually, the road ended at a small aerodrome, where he got out and was greeted by the spectacle of a group of young men singing.

No saviour from on high delivers,
No faith have we in prince or peer.
Our own right hand the chains must shiver,
Chains of hatred, greed and fear.
E'er the thieves will out with their booty,
And to all give a happier lot.
Each at his forge must do their duty,
And we'll strike the iron while it's hot.
So comrades, come rally,
And the last fight let us face.
The Internationale,
Unites the human race.
So comrades, come rally,
And the last fight let us face.
The Internationale,
Unites the human race.

Ian grimaced as he recognized the communist anthem, and went to return to the car. However instead of the car he found a plane instead. He got in and took off. The flat plains stretched out in all directions from him. He looked over at the passenger seat and was stunned to see a young woman. She was looking at him with a smirk and her eyes seemed to communicate so much more than mere words could ever achieve. Ian was struck dumb by her beauty. She leaned in close to him, and whispered in his ear.

…fear not, for behold, I bring you tidings of great joy…

At that moment, Ian’s world exploded in fire. The last thing he remembered before the flames charred his body was her tearful, smiling face saying goodbye amidst his screams.

Ian awoke with a start. His father’s breathing continued on steadily in and out, in and out.