As the crews trooped in, Kate scanned their faces eagerly through the hatch from the tiny kitchen. No one even glanced in her direction; their eyes went immediately to the large wall map showing their target. By the time most of the chairs were filled and the men came to attention as the Station and Squadron Commanders entered, Kate had still not spotted Danny. As the briefing began, she searched among the heads, trying to pick out his black hair, but then as the man from the Met Office opened the proceedings, Kate found her attention captivated. Unobserved, she was able to eavesdrop on the whole procedure. It was impossible to be oblivious to the tension in the room, the feeling of a peculiar excitement. In front of her the airmen were making notes, their whole attention focused on the man pointing at the weather map, transferring all the information in front of them to their own maps and charts.

‘Over the target, conditions should be fair . . . over base on return, clear . . .’

The Met man stepped down and the Flying Control Officer stepped up to give details of the runway to be used and take off times. The intelligence officer fascinated Kate and she found herself gripping the edge of the hatch as she leaned forward to listen to him giving route details, where the aircraft, once over enemy territory, might encounter flak and where they might expect to be intercepted by enemy night fighters.

Then came the Squadron Commander and lastly she watched Philip as he addressed his men, emphasizing the importance of accurate navigation and time-keeping. There were to be a great number of aircraft all heading in the same direction . . . Everyone in the room synchronized their watches and finally Philip wished them all good luck.

As the CO left the dais and marched between the ranks of men, Kate scuttled out of the building. By the time Philip emerged she was standing with the car door open in readiness. Only when they were in the staff car did he ask, ‘Did you manage to see him?’

‘No,’ she said, unable to keep the tremor from her voice. He leaned forward from the back seat as she added, ‘But I’ve only just realized, he’ll be at the other briefing, won’t he? He’s a rear-gunner.’

The radio operators and gunners had a separate briefing.

‘Oh Kate, I’m sorry. I hadn’t realized he was a gunner. I haven’t had chance to meet everyone yet. Tell you what – drop me off at my office. You might just catch them drawing their flying kit. But can you be sure to be back to pick me up in time to take me out to dispersal?’

‘Oh, thank you. Yes, of course I will.’

Minutes later, Kate was hovering outside Parachute Section waiting for the crews to emerge.

If only she could just see him, talk to him . . .