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“SAA Double Zero Four reads you five by five, Mother.”
“Rhein-Main Area Control clears SAA Double Zero Four direct Tempelhof U.S. Army Airfield Berlin on a heading of forty-eight-point-four degrees at ten thousand feet. Visual flight rules. Report to Helmstedt Area Control using Air-Ground Channel Two when crossing U.S.-Soviet zone border. Be advised that there are numerous USAF P-38 aircraft and possibly some Soviet aircraft operating along your route. Exercise appropriate caution. Acknowledge.”
Clete repeated, essentially verbatim, the Rhein-Main clearance.
“Double Zero Four, Rhein-Main. Affirmative.
“Mother, SAA Double Zero Four beginning climb to ten thousand and course change to forty-eight-point-four at this time.”
Since they were already at ten thousand feet, all von Wachtstein had to do was change course. He made the course correction as a fighter pilot, rather than the captain of an airliner, would—he shoved all four throttles forward as he cranked the yoke just about as far as it would go.
“SAA Double Zero Four, be advised the correct nomenclature of this airfield is Rhein-Main, not Mother.”
“Mother, SAA Double Zero Four, say again. Our pilot has been giving our passengers a thrill, and with all that screaming, I couldn’t hear you.”
Clete looked out the window at Archie Dooley.
Dooley signaled that he was going to fly ahead. Clete nodded and gave him a thumbs-up.
Dooley’s P-38, in a shallow climb, moved out.
Clete was still watching him pull away when he looked out his side window and saw another P-38 pull alongside. And then, through von Wachtstein’s—the pilot’s—side window, he saw a P-38 out there, too.
“Helmstedt Area Control, South American Airways Zero Zero Four.”
“Go ahead, Zero Zero Four.”
“Helmstedt, be advised that South American Airways Zero Zero Four, at ten thousand feet and indicating three-fifty airspeed on a course of forty-eight-point-four, is departing the American zone at this time. Acknowledge.”
“South American Zero Zero Four, Helmstedt acknowledges you making three five zero at ten thousand on a course of forty-eight-point-four and departing American zone. Be advised that both American and Soviet fighter aircraft are operating along your route. Exercise appropriate caution. When possible, contact Tempelhof Area Control on Air-Ground Channel Four.”
“Zero Zero Four understands Air-Ground Channel Four.”
Frade then experienced a feeling that for a moment he didn’t recognize. And then he did.
It was the same emotion he had experienced flying out of Fighter One on Guadalcanal—when, although he couldn’t see anything at that moment, he knew that the enemy could appear at any time.
With the great big difference being that then I was flying a Wildcat and could defend myself.
Now I’m flying an aerial bus with absolutely nothing to defend myself.
“All things considered,” von Wachtstein announced, “and apropos of nothing at all, I love the Connie. But right now I’d rather be flying a Focke-Wulf. Or even what Archie and his guys are flying.”
“Oh, come on, Hansel,” Clete said, then looking out ahead blurted, “Oh, shit!”
Three rapidly growing black dots were headed straight for them.
“What are they, Hansel?”
“YAK-3s,” von Wachtstein said.
Frade radioed: “Archie, where the hell are you?”
And then they saw something else.
Three P-38s appeared in front of the Constellation, moving so fast that Clete knew they were coming out of a full-power dive, with their airspeed indicator needles pointing to the red tape that meant If you go any faster than this, the wings will come off.
The three P-38s lined themselves up with the incoming YAK-3s.
