Hammond Innes: Attack Alarm

‘I will,’ said Helson. ‘And I think I’ll turn in now and get my three hours. Are you coming, Red?’

‘Like hell I am.’ He was chiefly remarkable for his flaming red hair, and as he climbed off the layer’s seat, he pushed a big hand through it. ‘Can’t remember when I last went to bed at this time, knowing that I could count on three hours uninterrupted sleep.’

‘Don’t count on it,’ said Langdon. ‘We may get a preliminary air-raid warning or I may decide it’s necessary to call the whole detachment out.’

‘Oh, you wouldn’t do that, Sarge.’

‘I’ll try not to,’ said Langdon with a grin.

The detachment that had been on stand-to began to drift off. Langdon looked round the pit. ‘What about layers? Chetwood, you’d better be Number Two, and Kan, you can take the elevation side. Micky will take his usual place as Number Four. Is that you, Micky?’ he asked, as a figure appeared from the direction of the hut. ‘You’re firing. Fuller and Hanson ammunition numbers. Fuller, you’ll hand the shells to Micky. And you’d better be responsible for the phone,’ he added to me.

So began one of the most exciting nights of my life. For the first few hours it was much the same as every other night since I had been at Thorby. It was warm and we took turns at dozing in the three deck-chairs. Every few minutes an enemy plane came up out of the southeast. The first indication would be a white criss-cross of searchlights far away over the dark silhouette of the hangars. These would usher the ‘plane over their area and pass it on to the next group. By the movement of the searchlights you could follow it right in from the coast, across the ‘drome and on over London. It was a definite lane they had found. There seemed to be no heavies anywhere along it. It was like a bus route.

Mostly they came in high and the searchlights wavered helplessly, unable to pick them out. Sometimes Gun Ops. gave us plots for them, but more often not. Occasionally they dropped flares. They seemed to be no more than armed reconnaissance, for they seldom dropped any bombs. And by the way they dropped flares to light the way into London it seemed as though experienced pilots were showing youngsters the way in.

It was actually just a coincidence that their route led them straight over Thorby. But it gave us all the feeling that we were the objective. Once I was quite convinced we were for it. There had been a period of comparative quiet when the sky was strangely blank. The only searchlights to be seen were away to the northeast, where a steady stream of raiders was coming into London by way of the Thames Estuary.

Then suddenly Micky said: ‘Here ‘e comes again — the bastard.’

A little knot of searchlights showed far away to the southeast. And at the same moment the phone rang. I picked up the receiver. ‘Calling all guns. Calling all guns. One, two, three — three? — four.’ ‘Four,’ I said. ‘Five, six. Are you there now, Three?’ Three,’ said a voice. ‘One hostile approaching from the southeast. Height ten thousand feet.’

I repeated the message to Langdon. That sounds more hopeful,’ he said, getting out of his deck-chair. ‘All right. Layers on.’ Kan and Chetwood got on to their seats. The gun swung round, its muzzle nosing in the direction of the ‘plane as though it would smell it out. The searchlights came nearer. Others flickered into action as the ‘plane approached until those across the valley were in action too, their dazzling white beams showing up every detail of the landing field.

The muzzle of the gun slowly elevated. We strained our eyes upwards to the point where all the beams converged. There it is,’ said Kan suddenly in an excited voice. A speck of white showed in the beams. But it remained stationary and the searchlights moved away from it. ‘Sorry,’ he said, ‘it’s only a star.’

Then the Tannoy broke the expectant stillness. ‘Attention, please! Attention, please! See that all lights are out. All lights to be put out at once. Enemy aircraft are directly overhead. Take great care to show no lights. Off.’

‘What’s the betting they turn on the flare path now?’ said Fuller.

‘I wouldn’t be surprised,’ replied Kan. He turned to me. “You weren’t here when they did that, were you, Barry? It was last week. They actually turned it full on for a Hurricane coming in when there was a Jerry right overhead. And were we scared! The fellow couldn’t help seeing it was a ‘drome.’

‘Look at that silly bastard!’ said Micky. A car had turned out of the officers’ mess, which was on the far side of the ‘drome near our other three-inch pit. Its headlights, though dimmed, showed white against the dark bulk of the hangars. ‘If I was over there I know what I’d do. I’d tell ‘im to put them out. An’ I wouldn’t give ‘im no more than one chance. If he didn’t put them out, I’d shoot ‘em out. I would an’ all — officer or no bloody officer. The silly fool — endangering everyone’s lives!’

Micky had a phobia about lights. He was a queer mixture of bravery and cowardice in the same way that he was a queer mixture of generosity and selfishness. In the hut at night he was a perfect curse until the lights were put out. Every night he would go round the blackout. If there was the slightest chink showing he made a nuisance of himself until it was stopped up. He’d even been known to complain about the light showing through cracks in the floor boards at the side of the hut. And if he was on guard you couldn’t enter or leave the hut without the warning, ‘Mind that light!’ spoken in that gruff rather aggressive voice of his.

In this particular case, of course, he was more than justified in his outburst. He had barely stopped speaking when from across the aerodrome we heard, faintly, the shout of, ‘Put those lights out!’ Immediately they vanished, and not a glimmer showed from any part of the ‘drome. Yet it was lit by the surrounding searchlights as though by a full moon. I felt we must be visible at ten thousand feet. I waited, tensed, for the whistle of the first bomb.

But nothing happened. The ‘plane passed slightly to the west of us, maintaining a steady course for London. Not once had it been picked up by the searchlights.

Chetwood climbed stiffly off the layer’s seat. ‘Anyone want a cigarette?’ he asked.

‘Don’t you go lighting a cigarette, mate,’ said Micky. ‘Do you want to get killed? I tell you it’s bloody silly.’

‘Oh, shut up, Micky,’ snapped Chetwood.

‘He’ll see you, mate, I tell you. An’ don’t you talk to me like that, see? I ain’t your servant even if you have got a lot of brass. What’s more, I’m senior to you. I bin in the Army since the beginning of the war.’

Chetwood ignored him. ‘Cigarette, Langdon?’

‘No thanks, old boy.’ Kan didn’t smoke, but Fuller and I took one. ‘You be careful,’ Micky muttered. ‘You bin lucky so far. But one day he’ll see you and he’ll drop one right on this ruddy pit.’

‘Don’t be a fool.’ Chetwood spoke quite pleasantly, but I could tell by the restraint in his voice that he was on edge. “That one has gone over. And the next one is right down on the horizon. How can any Jerry see a cigarette when he’s miles away?’

‘Well, I’m warning you. You ain’t the only one that’s going to get killed if a bomb falls on this pit. You want to think of others sometimes. You’re in charge, John. You didn’t ought to allow it.’

‘Well, as long as they’re careful it’s safe enough, Micky.’

‘All right, but they’d better be careful. I ain’t in no hurry to go to Heaven.’

Chetwood lit his cigarette under the folds of a gas cape. We lit ours from the butt of his. It seems incredible, but we were really very careful about cigarettes, smoking them in cupped hands even when there was nothing overhead. The trouble with light ack-ack is that mostly you’re posted right on the vital point. We often envied the heavies who could fire at planes with a sense of impunity. On a V.P. — especially an aerodrome — there is always the knowledge that you may be the objective. The frayed nerves that were revealed by a craving for cigarettes and a tendency to be short with one another were, I am certain, due more to this than to lack of sleep.