More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
The warmth and dignity of my flannel skirt and woolly sweater are worth far more to me now than patriotism or integrity.
The pullover cost me four sets of wireless code—the full lot of encoding poems, passwords, and frequencies.
He’s the only one who doesn’t watch—he threatened to take it all away from me again when I suggested he was missing a fabulous show.
I am in the Special Operations Executive because I can speak French and German and am good at
making up stories, and I am a prisoner in the Ormaie Gestapo HQ because I have no sense of direction whatsoever.
I don’t think I’ll ever know how I ended up carrying her National Registration card and pilot’s license instead of my own ID when you picked me up, but if I tell you about Maddie you’ll understand why we flew here together.
“She’ll need to go to hospital if she’s been flying an airplane.”
Not “She’ll need to go to hospital if she’s been injured,” but, “She’ll need to go to hospital if she’s been flying an airplane.” A flying girl! thought Maddie. A girl flying an airplane!
They pushed the bike over. It took Maddie down with it. Because bullying is what idiot Fascists like best.
Maddie joined the WAAF and eventually became a radio operator.
How in the name of mud is he going to find Berlin if he can’t find Manchester?”
That is what they call it when you go along in an aircraft just for the ride and don’t meaningfully contribute to a successful flight. Perhaps Maddie was more of a backseat driver than
a stooge.
How do you fancy further training?” “In what?” The section officer coughed apologetically. “It’s a bit secret. Well: very secret. Say yes, and I’ll send you on the course.” “Yes,” Maddie said.
Well, and also, because at the end of every argument she reminds me of the deal I made with a certain officer of the Gestapo, and I collapse.
It’s so secret they don’t give you a title when you have anything to do with Radar; you’re just called a “special duties clerk.” Clerk, Special Duties, clk/sd for short, like w/op is for Wireless Operator and Y for wireless. Clk/sd, that’s possibly the most useful and damning piece of information I’ve given you. Now you know.
They’d come together and some of them would go out, like the cinders of sparklers. And every green flash that disappeared was a life finished, one man for a fighter, a whole crew
for a bomber. Out, out, brief candle.
“Christ! He hasn’t got the undercarriage down,” gasped the young flying officer called Davenport. “This is going to be one hell of a prang.”
Outside at the edge of the runway, Queenie, or whatever her name was, stood staring at the wreck of the Luftwaffe
bomber.
“Poor young Jerry bastard,” he intoned. “He won’t go home a hero, will he! Must have no sense of direction whatsoever.”
I couldn’t have done what she just did, Maddie thought. We’d not have made this catch without her. Never mind speaking German; I couldn’t have faked it like that, just off the top of my head, no training or anything. Not sure I could manage what she’s going to have to do next, either. Thank goodness I don’t speak German.
They ran through scrub woodland to the nearest shelter in their pajamas and tin hats, clutching gas masks and ID cards. There was no light to see by except the gunfire and the exploding flames—
It was like being in hell, nothing but shadows and jumping flames and fire and stars overhead.
bold enough to impersonate an enemy radio operator on the spur of the moment was entirely capable of mocking someone who burst into tears every time she heard a gun fired. On a military airfield. In a war.
“I couldn’t have done it without you telling me what to say. You were brilliant too. You were right there when I needed you, not a word or call out of place. You made all the decisions. All I had to do was pay attention, and that’s what I do all day on the Y sets anyway—Y, wireless,
We pretty much had to resurface the runway ourselves that morning. We weren’t equipped for it, we didn’t have the tools or the materials, and we weren’t a building crew, but
We repaired the runway.
Everyone mucked in, including the captured German—I think he was rather apprehensive about hi...
This highlight has been truncated due to consecutive passage length restrictions.
Did I save that German laddie’s life yesterday, or destroy it? You do it too—you tell the fighters where to find them. You’re responsible. Do you think about it?”
plane. Perhaps it was his first flight to England. I felt dead sorry for him.”
“Yes, I did too,” said Queenie softly,
why I was choosing to write about myself in the third person. Do you know, I had not even noticed I was doing it until he asked.
I just want to thump my old self in the face when I think about her, so earnest and self-righteous and flamboyantly heroic. I am sure other people did too. I am someone else now.
Perhaps I will die quietly of blood poisoning and avoid the kerosene treatment.
Yesterday I tried ripping off the bottom of the page and eating it, but she got to it first. (It was when I realized I had thoughtlessly mentioned the factory at Swinley. It is refreshing sometimes to fight with her. She has the advantage of freedom, but I am a lot more imaginative. Also, I am willing to use my teeth, which she is squeamish about.)
her combined talents would be quite difficult to replace (a bit like mine). But her offenses do consistently fall under “insubordination.”
It’s like being in love, discovering your best friend.
at. Not by the Germans, mind you, it’s our own lads drilling the pub sign out there on the edge of the shingle, last thing before they head home after a battle—they do it for luck!” “Bet they do it to get rid of unused ammunition.”
Queenie gave Maddie a strange look. It had challenge in it, and defiance, and excitement.
“‘Careless talk costs lives,’” Maddie
(I really would like to catapult myself back there in time and kick my own teeth
“Cold tinned beans! It’s quarter to two. The pub’ll be shut by the time we get there.” “You said it doesn’t shut till next week.” “For the afternoon, you gormless half-wit! They stop serving till evening!” “I think that’s frightfully unfair of you, blaming it on me,” Queenie said. “It’s your game. I’m just playing along.”
defensive—just, I’m a pilot.
they expand the Air Transport Auxiliary I’m going to try to join—
“You’ve only one more fear to go—make it good.” Maddie dug deep. She came up honestly, hesitating a little at the simplicity and nakedness of the confession, then admitted: “Letting people down.” Her friend did not roll her eyes or laugh.
