Outside, Ollie lost sight of the woman in a group of people running on the sidewalk but managed to find a shelter in an underground railway station. It was crowded with Londoners who had been lining up to get in since midafternoon, but he was able to find a less desirable spot, a damp corner on a lumpy cobblestone floor. The family next to him was playing a board game, their youngest daughter holding a doll and a gas mask. When Ollie introduced himself, the young girl leaned to her mother and said, “He sounds rather odd.”

Ollie smiled, perhaps for the first time in weeks, and told them that he had traveled from Maine to join the Royal Air Force.

Despite his unusual accent, the family gave Ollie some of their rationed food—dried sausage and pickled beets.

“We appreciate your sacrifice for our war effort,” the father said, cutting a piece of sausage for Ollie.

“Thank you,” Ollie said, taking the meat. “I wish I had something to give you in return.”

“You can help give us back our sky,” the man said.

Ollie nodded.

The rumble of exploding bombs began at dark. As the ground shook and dust fell from the ceiling, Ollie opened his envelope. Under the dim glow of a lantern, he found paperwork with his name on it, a train ticket, and a note.

Mr. Evans,

On behalf of the Royal Air Force and the citizens of the United Kingdom, we are gratified for your services in our hour of need. My dear friend, Billy Bishop, Air Marshal of the Royal Canadian Air Force, sent word that you may turn up, indicating that he was “impressed with the young lad from Maine.” I hope this letter finds you, and if so, the enclosed papers will lead you to the Number 71 Eagle Squadron at Church Fenton, under the command of Squadron Leader W. M. Churchill. I wish you success in our fight.

Godspeed,

Charles Sweeny

Ollie opened his suitcase, exchanged the papers for a sweater, and propped the garment behind his head as a pillow. Snores filled the shelter. A young boy coughed. The ground rumbled. Bits of mortar fell from the ceiling. He wiped grit from his face, rolled over, and tried to find a comfortable position on the cobblestone. Ollie thought of flying his biplane over the potato fields of Maine, and how much he missed his parents. As the thunder of German bombs fell over the city, he noticed the young girl sleeping with a gas mask clenched in her arms, her doll splayed on the floor. And Ollie vowed to do his part to give her back her sky.

CHAPTER 8 - EPPING, ENGLAND

CHAPTER 8

EPPING, ENGLAND