Crosswire Conspiracy Part 4 (1/2) By Buick McCain

(1/2), (2/2). Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.

The crossing over the Channel was uneventful and as we approached the coastline the Flight Sergeant beckoned me forward and pointed towards the horizon. Immediately the scale of Hitler's stranglehold over Europe became frighteningly real. Far below but as far as the eye could see, the massed German forces waited menacingly for the orders to begin the invasion of Britain.

The flak was reasonably light and we were making good time for reaching the drop off zone. Each flight was different, if it was a routine drop then agents and supplies could be parachuted in, which lessened the risk to the aircrews.

But, if like ours, it was a pick up and drop mission, then the safety and security of the landing zone was paramount. The pilot banked sharply, turned the plane 180 degrees and then the Lysander shook and bumped violently as we hit hard land. Time was tight. Five minute turnaround for dropping supplies and personnel and picking up any new passengers for the return flight. But the crew were obviously well used to this type of operation. I leapt from the fuselage and ran towards the welcome party who were partly hidden in a copse.

My replacement on the return journey dashed by me, looked, smiled and wished me good luck! Even with the scarf and hat it was obviously a woman. I looked back just as the Lysander doors were closing, the girl waved, then in seconds the plane was off back to Tempsford.

I exchanged security codes with my contact and the six of us ran towards a small isolated church. The man, who was clearly in charge, pointed at his watch. There was another hour of sunlight. We would rest and hide in the church. The man unlocked a large door that led to a crypt. Inside the chamber a set of stairs led down to a smaller vault that too was unlocked. The group leader led me inside and the look of surprise and astonishment on my face must have been pretty apparent.

It was a bloody munitions dump! Wall to wall with rifles and machine guns. German, Russian and British markings on the boxes of ammunition which were all neatly piled. "Plastique!" Cried my newly acquired French friend as he pointed to the larger boxes, all full of explosives. And then came his "piece de resistance ". Underneath three scruffy sheets were dismantled German made 75mm anti-tank guns! There was a long trestle table towards the one vacant sidewall, I placed my bag on the table and slumped into one of the chairs. There was a small thermos and sandwiches already made on the table and a flagon of brandy, "My name is Benoit, welcome to my temporary home monsieur."

Continued .... Next Page (2/2)

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