Read JET LAG! Online

Authors: Ryan Clifford

JET LAG! (38 page)

 

‘Silence! You will have plenty of opportunity to talk later!’

 

Stumpy took the hint and shut up – glancing worriedly at Todd who looked stupefied.

 

They were taken into the Gestapo HQ and processed in complete silence. They were forced to strip naked, comprehensively searched – including internally, their penises inspected for signs of circumcision, and were finally given dungarees and trainers to wear. They were both then escorted to separate cells and left to stew – for four hours. No food or drink was provided.

 

Meanwhile, at the Hercules, the remainder of the 1992 Flypast team were treated equally harshly. They were bundled into trucks, driven to barrack blocks, where they were subjected to the same inhuman treatment as Todd and Stumpy.

 

The only exceptions were the aircrew and other officers who were taken to Gestapo HQ, similarly processed and eventually placed in cells adjacent to Todd and Stumpy.

 

The Air Vice Marshal was escorted away by the Camp Commandant to his office, where they had tea and discussed the entire matter for some four hours. Extensive notes were taken and the conversations recorded, for onward transmission to Berlin. Sir Henry Morrissey related the entire story to a bemused Oberst Maier who at first was incredulous. However, after a while – with the evidence lying out on the tarmac – he was forced to concede that Sir Henry might be telling something resembling the truth.

 

After three hours of talks, a document was delivered to the Commandant’s office and this sealed the issue.

 

There were records from the archives dating back to 1940 which confirmed the AVM’s story. There was evidence which suggested that a squadron of British jets had intervened in the fighting of August and September of that summer, but had mysteriously disappeared without trace. In addition, the graves of several mystery airmen had been discovered in Norwich and the personal files of Winston Churchill had revealed that such a force had really existed. In the fifties the remains of a strange jet aircraft had been discovered in an abandoned warehouse in Preston, and in 1972, a team of construction workers building a new housing estate had dug up a similar aircraft in East Anglia. There was a series of other corroborating statements and evidence which gave credence to the account, including two bodies and a mystery aircraft recovered in Konigsberg.

 

It had all been kept secret simply because the Nazis enjoyed secrecy, and saw no profit in admitting that the British may have had superior technology in 1940. That was certainly not good for German propaganda at the time. In addition, Hitler had summarily declared that time travel was impossible, so the entire file was buried deeply in the intelligence archives. The Fuhrer had bigger fish to fry!

 

Only now, there
was
a problem.

 

What were they going to do with fifty or more airmen and women from a different time-line? It was a potential giant banana-skin!

 

Clearly, they must be interrogated and squeezed of any useful information. The two aircraft would be of incalculable use, but the fates of the men and women hung in the balance.

 

However, in the short term, Todd and his father were invited to dinner at the Commandant’s quarters that evening, where a select band of officers and other important individuals would be present.

 

Todd was rousted at 1800 hours and given a German Air Force uniform to wear with the appropriate rank on the epaulettes. His father was accorded the same honour and they re-met at the small drinks reception at 1930.

 

Todd was in shock, but his father seemed calm and resigned. He just didn’t seem to care about what was happening. He was chatting gaily to German officers – who were actually predominantly British – but with weird Anglo-German names.

 

Todd answered many questions frankly and honestly about his adventures and previous life to the select audience, but at dinner he decided to get some answers of his own.

 

‘Herr Oberst, since I have been so co-operative, may I now ask you two questions?’

 

‘Please go ahead,’ answered the Commandant freely.

 

‘Firstly, can you assure me that my people are in good hands?’

 

The Oberst smiled easily.

 

‘Off course, Todd, very commendable that you should think of your men - they are all now eating supper and will sleep tonight in comfortable beds. Of course, we had to take certain security measures to ensure that your party posed no threat, and of course we must keep their presence here a secret – for your and our sakes.’

 

Todd smiled with some relief.

 

‘And your other question, Herr Oberst Leutnant?’

 

Todd drew breath and then blurted out the question he'd been asking himself since he landed back at Marham.

 

‘What the hell has been happening here since 1940? Because this is not our world. In our time, the Nazis were defeated and America, Britain and its allies ruled the peace. What happened to change all that?’

 

The Anglo-German dinner guests were ominously silent as they eyed each other round the table. One man, however, spoke out.

 

‘Herr Morrissey, I am James Himmler – you may recognise the name. My uncle was the great man himself and I am a senior official in the…er…… police service – shall we say. Perhaps I can explain.’

 

Todd was aghast – Himmler – a great man! Never! However, he held his tongue – clearly this was a powerful fellow and everybody around the table meekly deferred to his presence.

 

‘Let me start at the beginning. In 1939, Britain declared war on the German people over the mutually agreed political takeover in France. It came to nothing and by 1941, Britain had been invaded and was a satellite state of the Third German Reich. Edward the Eighth ruled until his death in 1980, when the people decided to abolish the monarchy. Germany assumed control of the British Empire and we became great friends with the USA, who joined us in our struggle against the evils of Communism. President McCarthy was a particular ally and we have been able to contain this evil to a relatively small area around Moscow and Stalingrad. Our friends the Chinese control the Far East, where right wing policies have brought incredible growth and prosperity to many. Under the supervision of Nazi ethnic ideals, we have purified the parts of the world under our control. Hunger, poverty, sickness and political strife are things of the past. Our Fuhrer was correct in every way and we still mourn his loss, some twenty years after his passing in 1972.’

 

Todd sat, mouth agape, with nothing credible to say.

 

‘I see you are somewhat shocked, Herr Morrissey. Shall I continue – yes, perhaps. The world has developed tremendously in the fields of technology – we landed on the moon in 1968 and currently, twenty-five thousand people live there in peace and harmony. We also reached Mars in 1990 and have great plans for its future. So you see, Herr Morrissey, we have done well. Indeed, I could carry on all night extolling the virtues and progress under the Party’s leadership.’

 

What he didn’t mention was the ongoing extermination of anybody, world-wide, who didn’t subscribe to Nazi ideals. He didn’t mention the forced labour camps and the millions thrust into vicious slavery. He didn’t mention the totally dystopian society at large in the world.

 

Todd gathered his wits.

 

‘What about Israel, Communist China, the Nuclear Arms Race and England winning the World Cup in 1966? Has none of that happened?’

James Himmler looked puzzled. None of which you speak is familiar to us. And as for the World Cup – football I assume – Germany has won it six times in a row! Of course, we limit participation. Teams from Africa, Asia and South America do not play football to a sufficient standard.’

 

Todd fully realised his predicament by now and said little more for the remainder of the evening, whereas his father joined in the conversation with enthusiasm. Todd was appalled by his behaviour and couldn’t bring himself to talk to him again.

 

When the dinner and conversation/interrogation ended, Todd was returned to his cell, stripped of his uniform and spent a miserable night on a lumpy bunk. He guessed, correctly, that his team were being treated in a similar fashion.

 

He hardly slept at all.

 

***

 

At 0900 the next morning, a guard fetched him from his cell and escorted him to see the Gestapo officer he had met the previous afternoon. The interrogation was brief, but to the point.

 

‘Wing Commander, we have waited over fifty years for your reappearance and have damning and irrefutable evidence of your crimes against the State. You flew armed missions against the forces of the Fatherland and were responsible for the deaths of many loyal German citizens – in particular at an airfield in Denmark near Esbjerg in August 1940. For these acts against the Reich, you will be punished. The sentence is death, by shooting – to be carried out immediately. Take him away!’

 

Todd was hauled away, numbed and silenced with utter shock; he was dragged, struggling violently through dark corridors, down three flights of stairs and into a dank and stinking basement room. He was pushed to his knees and shot unceremoniously in the back of the head.

 

The same fate awaited every other member of the 1992 Flypast team – except seven circumcised men – who were assumed to be Jewish and were unable to prove otherwise. These were deported to labour camps in Morocco and progressively worked to death.

 

AVM Sir Henry Morrissey took his own life. He hanged himself immediately after the reception ‘dinner’, in the bedroom provided in the ‘Kaserne’ or Officers Mess.

 

The Nazi engineers crawled all over the two aircraft and within three years had designed and constructed a fleet of improved Tornado multi-purpose aircraft, and a superb variant of the C-130.

 

Not a shred of human evidence of the ill-fated mission from the past remained. All documentary evidence – papers, clothing and personal effects – were boxed under the closest security and transported to Berlin for further inspection.

 

The final words Todd Morrissey heard before he was shot, briefly and viciously confirmed the awful truth – ‘Winston Churchill was hanged in September 1940 – Heil Hitler!’

 

***

 

55 - 3

Norfolk

8 September 1992

 

‘Affirmative, Purple Two, loud and clear. What now?’

 

‘I suggest you call Marham on ‘Guard’ frequency and see if we can get an answer? I think that we might be home.’

 

However, Stumpy and Todd were struggling to see where they were going. The aircraft was engulfed in thick, dark grey cloud, which made visibility effectively zero. Stumpy was fighting to keep the Tornado straight and level and the vicious turbulence was tossing the jet quite violently. In addition, the engines were not performing correctly.

 

‘Purple lead is experiencing extreme air turbulence. I suggest we attempt to climb out of this weather. If we are still in the time-shift Cu-Nimb, then we could suffer major structural damage. Do you read my transmission, Purple Two?’

 

The Captain of Purple Two was also fighting with the aircraft controls and the passengers were suffering grievously down the back end. Airmen were shrieking in alarm, vomiting and the freight was in imminent danger of breaking loose.

 

‘Roger, Purple lead. We are also undergoing severe turbulence and if we don’t get out of here pretty damned quickly, the aircraft is going to go down. Going to full power and climbing out. Be advised that we have navigational failures and our GPS is unserviceable. See you on top.’

 

Todd replied and concurred.

 

‘Roger One, we are zoom climbing on a heading of 270 degrees and will circle above the cloud and await your arrival. Out.’

 

Stumpy applied full power, pulled 3g on the control column and commenced the emergency climb out procedure. This was normally reserved for bad weather when flying at low-level, or at night when conducting operations using the TFR (Terrain Following Radar). It lifted the aircraft away from the ground as quickly as possible, thus reducing the chances of hitting a mountain or other high ground.

 

The Tornado climbed through five, ten and fifteen thousand feet with no improvement in visibility or reduction in cloud thickness. At nineteen thousand, the cockpit brightened and at twenty two thousand feet, Stumpy and Todd broke into clear blue sky.

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