Chapter 35

Realisation & Integrity

I n the distance, someone was calling his name. Mac’s eyes flickered open. Everything was silent. Where was he? That smell, something clean, sterile, in place of oil, cordite, and rubber. He glanced left. The outline of a bed. Did he land already?

‘Hello again, Mac.’ A familiar voice.

Mac glanced up as Badger, the MO, hovered over him, his outline still a little fuzzy. ‘Where am I?’

‘You’re in the field hospital. You got hit on the mission yesterday. Don’t you remember?’

‘Oh, yeah, my arm.’

‘Well, that and you had a collapsed lung, but you’ll be back to working order soon enough.’

‘Can’t get enough of the place, doc.’ Yesterday. He must have been out for hours.

‘Do you think you’re up to visitors? I have a concerned young lady waiting to see you.’

Stella dashed to his side. ‘Oh, Mac.’ She grasped his hand and gently touched his brow.

He opened his eyes and strained to focus. ‘Sorry, honey. We’re a little late. Don’t think I can have that dinner after all.’ He closed his eyes, squeezing her hand in his. She wasn’t going anywhere. Pain slithered between his ribs on his left side, and his left arm felt weird. His mind was clouded in a foggy haze, and the sharp scent of iodine hung in the air. The last thing he remembered was skimming the tops of the trees as they roared past.

Silken skin brushed his brow, his cheek. He loved her touch, and a faint sweet lavender breeze drifted towards him. He was home. ‘I’m glad you’re here,’ he whispered, trying to hitch his mouth into a smile. He curled his right hand, and a sharp pain burrowed inside of it. Then, as he glanced down, he realised why. He was attached to an IV.

‘I knew something was wrong yesterday. Oh, Mac. You were so brave, and you even managed to land the aircraft.’

‘I did?’ He could barely remember. Oh, Jeez, the guys. ‘What about the others?’

‘Oh, they’re all going to be fine, thanks to you. Red’s sitting up in bed at the end there and Val’s okay, although he’ll be on sick leave for a while, the doctor said.’

Thank, God. ‘Am I in one piece? What about my hands?’

‘The doctor said you’re as tough as leather. And yes, you’re in one piece. Whole.’ She squeezed his hand and pressed her lips into a smile.

He’d done it. He’d brought his crew home, he’d survived, and now the girl he loved stood by his side. With Stella he could do anything, be anything. He was going to live a whole life just as soon as he could fully wake up. Jeez, the doc must have pumped him full of morphine. His eyes flickered shut again.

‘You had me so worried. I didn’t know what to think when I saw you land. My heart was in my mouth.’

He hitched one eye open. ‘You were here?’ She must have been terrified.

‘Yes, With Colonel Edwards. I must say, he was rather concerned too.’ Stella’s voice choked.

‘Stella, is my arm really okay? It feels kinda numb. They’re not holding anything back, are they?’ With his good hand, he reached across and ran it up and down his injured arm. He puffed out a breath.

She sighed, leaned down, and brushed her lips on his. ‘No, darling. They’re not.’

‘Hmm. I like the sound of that.’ He gazed up at her, those large green eyes swimming in red. A tear bobbed on her eyelash and hovered before spilling down her cheek. He pulled her hand to his lips and kissed her fingertips. ‘Hey, come on, you.’

‘I’m sorry. It’s just when they carried you out of the aircraft, you were so grey. I thought I’d lost you.’ Her chin trembled, and she dipped her hand into her coat pocket, dragged out a handkerchief, and dabbed her eyes.

‘I told you I’d be back.’ He squeezed her hand. ‘When we were struggling up there, you hauled us back. I kept on looking at your pretty picture up there by the instrument panel, and I prayed.’ Mac’s eyes grew misty, and his chest ached—only partly due to the injury.

Stella sniffed, and her mouth curved up into a brave smile.

‘I’m so tired. It feels as if I’ve lived a hundred years already.’ He yawned, his eyelids closing once more, and a single crystal droplet emerged from the corner of his eye, streaking across his cheek.

‘You rest, darling. I’ll come back later.’ Stella brushed her lips across his, and he put his arm around her, drawing her close.

***

Stella stepped into the crisp morning air, drawing a deep breath. Autumn leaves of cherry, gold, and copper danced in the breeze, scuttling wherever it blew as the overhead trees cackled. She yawned. A wave gripped her chest, and she pursed her lips as tears stung her eyes. Mac almost died. They could have all died. She stifled a yawn and grabbed her cycle, her lead-like limbs protesting at the prospect of a long ride home.

‘Stella?’

She spun around to face Mac’s co-pilot. ‘Hello.’

‘Are you off home?’

‘Yes. I’ve left him to rest.’

‘Here, I’ll give you a ride.’ Wilson took the bicycle from her hands and crammed it in the jeep. He smiled, his kind chestnut eyes framed by dark circles.

‘Oh, thanks. I’m exhausted.’ She dabbed her eyes.

‘He’ll be all right. Tough as old boots.’ Wilson winked.

That’s what the doctor had said. She smiled. ‘Well, I’m so glad you managed to land the aircraft.’

‘That was mainly all due to Mac. He’s a mighty fine pilot. One of the best.’

She thought back to the conversation she’d overheard last night. The doctor mentioned something about nerve damage to Mac’s arm. She clambered into the jeep and heaved out a breath. What treatment would he need for that? Perhaps he’d be grounded for a while until it resolved. Her stomach lifted. She closed her eyes against the bright morning sun with its determined glint through the trees as the jeep hurtled along the country lane.

***

Mac gazed out of the window as white clouds sailed by in a flawless sky. So, the numbness in his arm wasn’t just something that was going to resolve itself in time. Nerve damage. That’s what the doc had called it. He shook his head and lay back, his head sinking into the pillows. Swell.

‘Hey, Mac. How’s it going?’ Red positioned his wheelchair at the bottom of the bed.

‘Hey, Red. I’ll be okay. How’s the leg?’

‘Doc says I should be up and about in a week or so. Can’t walk on it for a few days so I asked the nurse to get me a chair. The hell I’m staying in bed all day.’

‘Yeah, I don’t blame you. I think I might go stir crazy if I’m stuck here too long.’

‘You heard about Val?’

Mac shook his head.

‘They’re shipping him home. Would you believe that cannon shell almost shattered his arm? He’s had surgery, but they told him he’d probably need another op. Bad luck, huh?’ Red wheeled himself around to the side of the bed.

Mac’s cheek twitched. ‘It sure is. I’m glad he’s going to be okay. You too, Red. You both got lucky up there.’ At least they’d made it home, almost in one piece. He sure hoped Val would make a full recovery.

Red glanced at the floor and hunched his shoulders. ‘We were lucky to make it home, and that was down to you, Mac, and Wilson.’ Red nodded to him. ‘We lost some Forts, and the guys said most of the ones that made it back were all badly shot up, including ours.

‘How many did the 91 st lose?’

‘We lost one, but the group took thirty losses.’ Red’s eyes glazed over. ‘The 91 st had several more casualties as well as us.’

Jeez, three hundred men missing.

‘Oh, gee, here she comes. Nursey.’ Red rolled his eyes as Mac suppressed a laugh.

‘There you are. What did I tell you about not overdoing things? And here you are again, pestering Captain Mackenzie. Back to bed for you, quick march. You know what the doctor said.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’ Red saluted, spun around, and wheeled away.

Mac chuckled until a sharp pain in his chest silenced him, and he winced. Poor Val. He was one hell of a bombardier, and he’d be mad at having to miss out on the war. On the upside, at least he got to go home and keep out of harm’s way, as Stella would say.

What was he going to do now if he couldn’t fly? Instructing was out of the question. Hell, what was left? He dragged a hand through his hair and his chest pulled. Breathing in was still a little sore, and he pinched his lips. A collapsed lung. Mac shook his head and looked down at his scarred hands. Another mission, another injury, another hospital. How much was enough? And it wasn’t just him. What about Stella? Hadn’t she been through enough already? And then there was his crew. This time, they’d made it. His hands still ached, and he clenched them a few times. He hadn’t been able to pull out of that dive. Wilson had pumped more effort into that mission than ever before and without him, they never would have made it.

The doc was right. He had to call it a day. He couldn’t push himself and endanger a crew in the process. All this, everything he’d done, had been in support of his duty, to avenge the deaths of his friends, and to ensure he could hold his head up and state boldly how he’d served his country in the war. It was his pride. Just as his pride interfered each time he dared to stare at his reflection. It didn’t matter what he looked like on the outside. It was done now. What mattered was how he lived his life and what choices he made from now on. Appearances don’t make a man. A man has to forge his own way.

If he wanted to redeem himself in some way, then he’d done it. He clamped his eyes shut as Bill’s face flashed in his mind, then Birdie’s, and all the other guys he’d seen come and go while he’d been stationed here. So many faces who’d never see their homes again. His eyes grew misty, and a fresh pain seared across his chest as he whipped a tear away.

It was going to be tough, but he knew he’d never fly one of those big birds again. His heart swelled with a mix of emotions and his ears buzzed with the silence. Everything he loved and hated had unfolded in that ship, high above the clouds. The smell of cordite scorching his nose, the vibration buzzing through his entire body, and the sharp, icy cold that penetrated his bones. He sure was going to miss it. Flying felt so natural to him, and the sky was his second home. Forming up on a bomber’s wing, glancing across that divide in the air to see the pilot alongside you give you the nod, gunners waving back, and mighty Fortresses all around like stepping stones in a never-ending ocean—those were some of the best feelings he’d ever known.

A new light dawned, one with honeyed undertones, and he’d be a fool to pass up on that. Archie’s voice rang in his ears and the breath caught in his throat. Whatever happens, Mac, don’t struggle on. Promise me you’ll call. Don’t leave it too late . He huffed out a heavy sigh. It was an omen, for sure. He gazed at the ceiling as an ache pinched his throat. Being part of a crew had really meant something and bonds had been forged that would never be broken.

In a few weeks he was getting married. He sure hoped he’d be fit by then. After everything, there was no way on earth he was going to postpone this wedding.