A thousand suns

‘It’s rare to find a bomber crew that have been together for so long.’ Max nodded; he knew Rall meant ‘ survived for so long’. ‘Which is why I took the enormous effort to find you and your men. It really wasn’t easy, I can tell you. There seems to be very little logistical control over what’s left of our boys.’

Rall fell silent for a moment, it seemed he was pondering what to say next. His left eye, surrounded by scarred skin tissue and bereft of any lashes, leaked moisture onto his cheek. He wiped it casually away with his hand.

‘We’ve lost the war,’ he said out of the blue. Max instinctively flinched. True words, but recklessly dangerous spoken aloud. ‘We’ve lost, it’s over. Things may rumble on for a little longer, but we all know right now that this is finished.’

Max carefully guarded his response, suspicious of Rall’s candour. ‘There’s always a chance, sir.’

Rall smiled. ‘Kleinmann, relax, I’m not fishing for a treasonous statement. It’s just you and I, two airmen. Surely in these final days we can speak our minds freely, eh?’

Max remained silent, still wary of committing himself.

‘It’s over. The Russians are approaching the outskirts of Berlin and are settling in and making ready for an offensive to take the city. I’m sure they’re expecting as stiff a fight as we experienced in Stalingrad. But I’d say we have two, maybe four, weeks of fight we can give them.’

Rall left those words hanging in the air. There was a gentle rap on the door, and Leutnant Hostner entered awkwardly carrying a tray with two steaming cups of coffee on it. He placed it silently on Rall’s desk and left.

Rall waited until the door closed behind him before continuing. ‘We have an opportunity to end this war on our terms. One opportunity, but we need to work quickly to make it happen.’

‘A mission?’ Max asked uncertainly.

Rall passed a cup of coffee to Max.

‘Yes, a mission.’

Max looked down at the cup of steaming coffee, a delaying tactic; time to think carefully about what he had to say next to the Major. He owed that much, and more, to his men.

‘Sir, there’s no easy way for me to say this…’

Rall nodded. ‘Please, feel free to speak your mind, Oberleutnant.’

‘My men and I have fought in three campaigns. We have flown over three hundred sorties for our country… and maybe it’s God’s will or sheer blind luck that we’re all still alive. With respect, sir, we all feel we’ve done our duty for Germany, and I… ’ Max faltered, unsure how Rall would take his next words. ‘I can’t order my men to fly again, not with the end of the war only days away.’

Rall remained silent, impassive and motionless.

‘I can’t order them to. Sir, at the risk of a court martial, I won’t,’ Max added.

‘I understand,’ Rall said eventually, warming to the pilot’s loyalty to his men.

‘Which is why the mission is voluntary.’

‘Voluntary?’

‘Yes.’

Max looked up at Rall. The Major appeared to be sincere.

‘This mission is too… how shall I say?… delicate,’ Rall added, ‘to be undertaken by men under duress. Only if you and your men are willing, is this mission going to proceed.’

‘And this mission will end the war?’

‘Yes, it will. It will end this war in a way that guarantees Germany survives, that the Russians stop, turn around and leave our soil.’

Max looked back down at his coffee.

An end to the madness.

Now that the Allies owned the skies, any mission undertaken would surely be suicide. He guessed that this endeavour, whatever it was, had probably been hastily conceived by some ambitious staff officer desperate to extract a little glory from the final days of the war. A pointless and reckless gamble with the odds stacked heavily against Max and his men surviving it. Max had learned to despise those commanders who led from the rear and casually bandied terms like ‘acceptable losses’.

‘Kleinmann, I want to show you and your men something. And then I will explain the mission to you in detail. I will tell you everything. I will tell you things that only I, and a handful of other men, know about. For a short time, you and your men will have the privilege of sharing a confidentiality with, amongst others, the Fuhrer.’

Max wasn’t entirely convinced his men could give a flying fuck about their Fuhrer.

Rall smiled, realising the grim-faced veteran in front of him had been less than impressed by such a clumsy attempt to win him over.

‘Let me show you what I have, and I’ll outline the mission. Then, and only then, will I ask you and your men to volunteer.’

‘And when they and I refuse?’

‘You are all free to go.’

Max looked up at Rall, studying the man’s wrecked face, searching for a sign of sincerity or guile.

‘We are free to go?’

‘You have my word. Like I said, this will only work if we have volunteers.’

Against his better judgement, Max decided to take this man’s word, for now.

‘Then my men and I will at least listen.’

Chapter 15

Medusa