Ryan Patterson 10E Mr Cooper
Short story- English coursework
The Unfortunate Airman
As he crept towards the command post his mind was clouded with many questions. "What are Nazis doing in a Home Guard command post?" and "Why are they chatting to the officer's inside as though they are long lost brothers?" All he knew was that he was that he was rather displeased and surprised when he parachuted down from his Mk5 Spitfire after a dogfight in which he saw many of his friends spiralling to earth in an inescapable ball of flame.
He however, had stuck to his job and carried on intercepting the Messerschmitt BF 109s that had been escorting the German bombers on a routine bombing raid to Portsmouth where all citizens were forever living in fear of daylight bombing raids. He only had eight seconds of cannon ammunition but, by the time he knew there was only one 109 left he had about five seconds of ammunition left which was more than enough to bring down one plane.
However, there were several problems, he had no support and therefore could easily be attacked from behind and he had no idea where the last 109 was.
Suddenly, he was alert in an instant, he could hear the low drone of the German fighter's engine but he still couldn't see it. He looked right then left through his canopy when he got the fright of his life. The Messerschmitt was hurtling towards him out of cannon range and there was no possible way that he could avoid being peppered by cannon shells. Within seconds he could feel the turbulence of shells pummelling themselves into the plane's tail, rapidly racing towards him and the planes vulnerable engine, which, if hit would almost certainly kill him. As he felt the cannon fire punching towards him, as anticipated he saw one shell literally flash before his eyes and another lodged itself in his left arm above the elbow. Then another inevitably hit the planes engine which instantly started the engine spurting flames and started to creep its way towards him. As the BF 109 hurtled past him he had one thing on his mind and pulled the trigger for his own cannons and watched as the Luftwaffe planes exploded
Into a sphere of shredded metal, body parts and fire which engulfed the air around it. He then checked that he was at an acceptable altitude to bail out, flung back the canopy and flung himself out of the burning wreck that had once been the pride of the British Nation but was now hurtling to its watery grave in the English Channel.
That had been three hours ago, he landed in a field, shrugged off his parachute and made his way to the Home Guard post that he remembered seeing on his decent. But, he realises something wrong, the uniforms of the guards were not the dark green of the British home guard but the deep navy blue of the Third Reich and the helmets were embedded with the "skull and crossbones" insignia of the Waffen Schutzstaffel (SS) which upon seeing this the airman went white as a ghost and tried shifting his weight to flee. Then, "crack" a twig snaps and he is heard. In an ecstasy of slipping and tripping he is away as swift as a dear but he is not unseen and unheard. A series of "halts" and "stop"s in broken English and even a warning shot shattered the silence but he was gone.
Heading for the woods he carried on, keeping to the shadows and trying to ignore the incredible pain in his arm. He could hear his pursuers not far of and gaining rapidly. How long had he been running? An hour? Ten minutes? However long it was it seemed like an eternity.
He finally reached the woods and hid himself as best he could. He didn't know if he would survive the night or not. Then he hears it, a cough from a short distance away, he stands himself up and runs, throwing caution to the wind. He reaches a road and goes white for the second time that night, a foot patrol had obviously gone by road and encircled him. A series of shots ring out from the MP 40s the Germans are carrying and the airman slumps.
That spot is said to be covered in the unfortunate airman's blood to this day.
A troop of Nazi Elite Waffen SS DID penetrate British coast and ruthlessly kill any Brits they encountered, fortunately they were quickly discovered and imprisoned for life, the last soldier died in 2005 in a secure government building. The government didn't want the public to know. However not every person involved was able to "keep quiet" as a result this short story was written to commemorate the airman's gallant actions that day.