From Arctic Snow to Desert Sand (British Ace Book 6) Read online

  The snow was falling, again, and so we hurried to the cafe and sat in its cosy warmth. We had more tea. They knew how to make tea in this part of the world but they did not serve it with milk. I smiled. My old comrades, Ted and Gordy would not have been happy about that. They liked lots of milk and heaped sugars.

  “So, Vladimir, what do you plan for yourself?”

  “Plan, sir? I do not understand.”

  “What do you want to do with your life. You are young and you have many years ahead of you.”

  His face became grim and he clenched his fists. “Fight the Bolsheviks. I have asked the Count if I can join his staff. When he says I can then I will join him. He will give me a gun and I will fight the people who murdered my Tsar and my family.”

  I had nothing I could say to him. I had not lost my family and my country but it seemed a rather bleak future for the young man. I could see now why Mr. Rees had not given him a gun. “Tell me about the Count. What is he like?”

  His demeanour changed immediately. His face became animated and his voice almost sang. “Count Yuri Fydorervich is my hero. He has fought the Bolsheviks since his family was killed. I knew him as a boy although he was older. His family had estates which bordered those of my own. I would have joined him at the start but he was away organizing armies and I was having to make my way through the Bolshevik lines.”

  “Away?”

  “He was in the army and was fighting the Germans. Mr. Rees found me first and nursed me back to health. I owe Mr. Rees my life.”

  “And so you are paying Mr. Rees back before you serve your friend.”

  He smiled, “You understand. Yes, it is a duty I owe him. I must give him back a life before I can begin mine. I still practise with a sword and pistol when I can. I do not want to become rusty.”

  “I fear the days of using a sword are long gone.”

  The afternoon drifted into evening and the snow stopped. The clear skies predicted a wickedly cold night. We left the café and headed towards the lorries. When we reached them I saw that the lorry drivers had a fire going and my men were warming themselves around it. A bottle was surreptitiously hidden as we approached and I smelled raw alcohol. I frowned, “Sergeant…”

  His head lowered in shame the Sergeant murmured, “Sorry sir. They handed us the bottle and we drank before we knew.”

  I was going to say something when Vladimir suddenly rounded on the lorry drivers. He gave them what I would have termed a sergeant major tongue lashing had I been in Britain. The men actually cowered as though he might hit them.

  Vladimir turned to me, “I am sorry Squadron Leader but these men are peasants. They do not know better. I have told them I will have them whipped if they do this again.”

  “Whipped?”

  “Of course, it is the only way you keep such men in their place. They are simple and need to be taught how to behave. The Bolsheviks are peasants who are beyond teaching. The only thing they understand is a bullet.”

  At that point I heard the sound of vehicles and turned around to see Mr. Rees returning followed by a Rolls Royce Silver Ghost, a Rolls Royce armoured car and four lorries.

  “It is the Count! Mr. Rees has brought the Count!”

  A figure with a tailored uniform festooned with braid and medals stepped from the car. That was the first time I saw Count Yuri Fydorervich. He was an imposing figure. The first thing I noticed was that he had four of the biggest soldiers surrounding him and they had bandoliers of ammunition draped about their shoulders. They had pistols, swords, knives and a rifle. They were body guards although they looked like brigands. It told me much about the Count. The Count himself was in his mid-twenties. I should have expected it because of what Vladimir had said but I had expected a general in the White Army to be older. Then I remembered that he had served in the war. He had a cigarette holder in his mouth. I had never seen a man with a cigarette holder and it surprised me. I saw that everything about him was intended to impress. His uniform was loaded with braid and his chest with medals. He wore a sword and had a pair of pistols at his waist. I saw that they were American Colt .45s. This was a man trying to get noticed.

  He smiled when he saw me, “You must be the British ace we have heard so much about. I am so glad that your Government listened to my request. Now we have an Air Force! Now you can begin to reclaim my country! We can drive these Bolsheviks back into their holes. ”

  My heart sank. I now saw that I was not the stop gap. It was me they wanted. I was not here to protect the fleet. I was here to take the war to the Bolsheviks and I had one Camel and three relics to do it. What had seemed a difficult task now looked to be an impossible one. The snow which began to fall again mirrored my feelings about the task. There was no end to it.

  Chapter 2

  “I have but four aeroplanes, sir and only one of them here.” I saw him frown and I did not know why.

  Mr. Rees said, quietly, “You should address the Count as Count or General, Squadron Leader.”

  “I am sorry Count, I did not know.”

  “It is no matter.” His English was excellent. I learned, as we travelled east, that he had attended English public school. His look told me that it did matter. “The important thing is that your arrival is perfect. Our allies in Estonia are about to defeat the Bolsheviks there. General Yudenich has sent a message to me, only today, asking for my support. I have asked your Government for ships and they are on their way. Now we have aeroplanes! We can crush the Bolsheviks in Estonia and move on to Petrograd.”

  “I have one Camel!”

  He waved a hand, “Mr. Rees has arranged for the other three to be sent from Finland. Within a week, they will be with you.”

  “But the snow? How do we fly?”

  He shrugged, “You are the flier you will find a way! Come we are wasting time.” Ducking back into his car he waved the column forward. One of his men shouted something to the lorry drivers and they started their engines.

  Mr. Rees said, “Come along the two of you. Get inside and I will explain.”

  I sat in the front with Mr. Rees. “Surely he cannot be serious?”

  “I am afraid he is but to be fair to the Count he is right. General Yudenich has won a great victory. Rear Admiral Alexander-Sinclair is on his way to Reval to bring in supplies. He is bringing Vindictive with your three other aeroplanes.”

  Mr. Rees overtook the lorries so that we were behind the Rolls Royce which was following the armoured car. In the back Vladimir said, “So I get to fight?”

  “No, you do not.” He lit a cigarette. With the slippery road beneath our tyres it was skilfully done. “Listen Squadron Leader this helps you. You will have your air force all together as well as support from the navy. You will be closer to the front too. That is what you asked for is it not? You can take off and land on the Vindictive. That means you can be in action sooner.”

  I had never yet taken off nor landed from a carrier. I had no doubt that I would be able to manage it but it was still another worry.

  “And will there be enemies between us and Reval?”

  “Probably. That is why the Count has the armoured car.” He stubbed out his cigarette, “About the Count; he likes to have his rank used when you speak to him. A little deference would help.”

  “Mr. Rees, I served with a lord and he expected no deference. I will treat the Count as a superior officer but that is as far as it goes. I will not bow and scrape to the man.”

  “Then he will not be happy.”

  “The Count’s state of mind is of no consequence to me. I am here to do a job and then I can go home. And is there any more information about the German aeroplanes?”

  “We have the actual numbers now. We also know that they are based at Peterhof. There are loyal Russians and other agents who send us information. I should tell you that they have had pilots training to use them.”

  “I am not concerned with the pilots. It is the buses they will be using that is important.”

  “Buses?”<
br />
  “It is what we called aeroplanes.”

  “Ah, well they have six of the Fokker E.1. There are seven Fokker D 1. There are four Fokker Triplanes and three Albatros D.1.”

  I was quiet. That meant the majority of the aeroplanes were Camel fodder. The Triplanes would be death traps but the three Albatros would take some handling. They were more than a match for the Sopwith 1½ Strutter. However, it was better than I hoped.

  “And how far is it from Reval to Peterhof?”

  “A hundred and eighty miles.”

  “Then we have to be closer. We need your Rear Admiral to take us to within fifty miles.” The attaché was silent. “Is that a problem?”

  “It puts the flotilla a little close to Kronstadt and the Bolshevik fleet. Their guns could shell them if they came too close.”

  “Then you have a problem. The maximum range is a hundred miles or so. That gives us time to get to the target, engage the enemy and get back. Aeroplanes need fuel and there is a limit to what we can carry.”

  “Very well. I shall try to persuade the Rear Admiral.”

  As we drove I took out my service revolver and made sure that it was loaded. The rest of my guns were with my luggage but if we were travelling through recently liberated land then I would need a weapon close to hand. As we drove, even though it was night time, I found it hard to reconcile the countryside of Belgium and France which had been torn up by war. Here, there was little sign of it.

  “Mr. Rees, what is the size of the Bolshevik Army?”

  “We have intelligence which tells us of the money they spend on their weapons but the soldiers? It is just an estimate. They had millions under arms when they fought the Germans. Now they fight from Vladivostok in the east to the borders of Poland in the west. What is certain is that they are struggling to make weapons. That is the advantage that the Count and his men have. The leaders of the Russian Army joined the Whites. They are the ones who understand weaponry. The fliers they had were aristocrats. There were perilously few of those anyway. The ones they are preparing to be pilots now are being trained by Germans.”

  “That is not as big a problem as it might have been. By the end of the war their better pilots had all been shot down. If we had a squadron of S.E 5s then we could defeat every aeroplane they sent against us and most of their armies too.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes Vladimir?”

  “Then why has your Government not sent them? Why have they only sent one aeroplane?”

  I shrugged, closed my eyes and laid back in the seat, “You would have to ask Mr. Rees that question.”

  I fell asleep as Mr. Rees tried to whitewash the young Russian. Vladimir was a bright boy and he worried at the diplomat like a dog with a bone.

  When I woke, we had stopped. We were almost in the middle of nowhere. There was a single petrol pump and what looked like some sort of inn. Mr. Rees was smoking and Vladimir was not in the car. “Where are we?”

  “The Rolls Royce and the armoured car needed fuel. Your men have eaten. Are you hungry?”

  I looked at my watch. It was three a.m. “How long until we arrive?”

  “We should be there by seven. The roads are quiet and there does not appear to be the trouble the Count anticipated.”

  “Then I will wait until we arrive. When will the flotilla be arriving?”

  “It will take two days for them to reach us. They will sail west first to avoid the Bolshevik’s fleet.”

  “And what do we do until then?”

  “The Count will ensure that we have accommodation. He has a great deal of influence in these parts.”

  Vladimir came back to the car with two loaves. They appeared to be filled with a variety of meats and cheeses. “Here you are gentlemen. Freshly made.”

  I did not really wish to eat but Vladimir had obviously gone to such great lengths to feed us that I accepted. I had no idea what the meat was and it also had far too many pickles in it for my taste but it was filling. By the time I had finished the sandwich we were approaching civilisation.

  “I spoke with the Count. He is confident that General Yudenich will have captured Riga by the middle of the month. That means we have another port.”

  “Isn’t Riga on the way to Reval?”

  He nodded, “We passed it while you were asleep. That is how he knows. He spoke with the officers there. The people of the town have no food and with your Royal Navy blockading they cannot be supplied.”

  I dozed off and awoke again just as we were entering the port. I was bone weary. The car had been comfortable enough but I had been in the car for almost twelve hours. When I got out I looked for the lorries but they were not there. “Where is the Camel?”

  Vladimir said, casually, “When we stopped the Count told the drivers that he would not wait for them. He told them that if they were not here by ten then they would be punished.”

  Bearing in mind that the flotilla would not be here for a couple of days, I thought it excessive. I went to the boot to take out my bags. Vladimir said, “Wait for the Count to send one of his men over for them, Squadron Leader.”

  “That is not a problem, Vladimir. Besides my weapons are in here. I am keen to keep a close eye on them.”

  “As you wish sir.” He pointed to a large house, “We are staying there. I will wait for our bags to be brought over.”

  Like me Mr. Rees was carrying his own bag. He travelled light. He was similar to Mr. Balfour. I suspected there was more to Mr. Rees than met the eye. I think the dapper act was just that, an act to make enemies think he was ineffectual.

  He had seen my look at Vladimir’s questioning comment. “The Russian mentality takes some getting used to, Squadron Leader.” He lowered his voice. “I don’t think that our people back home would endure the same treatment that they dish out to those who are at the bottom end of the social ladder. Still we are allies and we must do what we can eh?” He pointed with his stick. “The port is just on the other side of this house. We won’t have far to travel when the flotilla arrives.”

  When we entered the house, the Count was berating a rather well fed man who cowered before the aristocrat. I later learned that he was the owner of the house. “I must apologise, Mr. Rees. This fool has failed to follow my orders and the rooms will not be ready for an hour or so. We will retire to the dining room and I will read these reports.” He proffered a sheaf of documents. “At least the fool got that right!”

  He swept into the dining room. It was a large one. Burscough Hall had a magnificent dining room but it would have fitted into this one four times! Servants raced to the three of us with bowls of lemon scented water and warm cloths. I was bemused. The count took off his gloves. The servant used a flannel to wash his hands and then dry them. Then he wrapped the warm towel around his face. I had never seen the like. Mr. Rees said, sotto voce, “Just go along with it, eh Squadron Leader? When in Rome and all that.”

  I did so but I was going to have to be very tolerant. I wondered what my two air crew would make of all this. While the Count read his papers, we were served coffee and freshly baked croissants. Vladimir arrived and sat down between Mr. Rees and the Count. The Count pushed the papers to one side and snapped his fingers. More food was brought in. I recognised some but not all. I had learned, over the years, to save experimentation for those rare times of leisure. I had just arrived in the country and the last thing I needed was an upset stomach. I ate the bread, eggs, cheese and ham followed by fruit. It filled me.

  The Count out away a far greater quantity of food than any of the rest of us. He leaned back and lit a long thin cigar. “Things are going well, Squadron Leader; even better than we anticipated. There is however, as you English might say, a fly in the ointment. “Those German aeroplanes have been seen over Narva.”

  I looked to Mr. Rees who said, “On the border.”

  “Have they attacked yet?”

  “Not yet. The peasants there had never seen an aeroplane before and they became frightened. Superstit
ious fools. So, you will need to take your aeroplane up as soon as possible.”

  “They were probably just training with them, sir. It takes many hours in the air to get used to an aeroplane. Besides we can’t do anything until the carrier gets here, sir.”

  He frowned, “Why not?”

  “We need a runway. The carrier has one. Even then it is not perfect but as there is no airfield here then we cannot take off until there is a runway. I am sorry, sir.”

  “I was led to believe that this weapon was unbeatable. You are saying it is not so?”

  “I am saying, sir, that once in the air, the four aeroplanes we have can knock out any enemy aeroplane that the Bolsheviks have.”

  “Good!”

  “However, they can be shot down, sir. If the guards at the border had opened fire and if the aeroplanes had been low enough then they might have caused some damage. But, as you say, they had never seen an aeroplane and panicked.”

  “I see. Well your ships will be here some time tomorrow.” He yawned. “I will go to bed.” Leaning forward he said, “I would stay close to the house if I were you. There may be some Bolsheviks unaccounted for in the town. General Yudenich has had most of them shot but one never knows.”

  “Where will my men sleep when they arrive?”

  He looked surprised at the question. Shrugging he said, “With their vehicles? Surely, they will have to guard your aeroplane! I would not wish anything to happen to it.”

  With that he turned and left. I looked at Mr. Rees, “I cannot believe that man.”

  “Ssh, Squadron Leader. Keep your voice down. The walls have ears.” He looked pointedly at Vladimir who was still eating.

  “My men will be exhausted. They cannot sleep in the vehicles. I would not ask it of them.”

  He nodded, “But the Count is right. Your aeroplane is the most powerful one for a thousand miles. It must be protected.”

  “And it will be. I will share my room with my men. We will each stand a duty and guard the aeroplane.”

  Vladimir showed that he had been listening, “But you are an officer!”