The new airstrip was just east of the little village of Sturry. The airstrip and camp was located in a dense section of forest that bordered a marsh and small lake. There was limited access to the site which contained a narrow and rough road which was more of a gravel covered trail that lead into the woods to a small cottage like house and a medium sized lean-to type shed.
There were tents pitched a short distance from the shed, set back further into the trees to offer better concealment. The lorries that transported the support crews and equipment arrived in the early hours of the morning. The crews were exhausted after loading and making the long trip. The convoy encountered several unplanned detours along the route. Tired as they were, they all pitched in to get their gear and equipment unloaded.
Pop Pickering was napping in the cottage when he awoke to the sounds of the arriving convoy. “Glad to see you lads finally make it!” He greeted them enthusiastically. “Now the party can get started!” Pop lead two of the lead technicians into the shed where he and the security detail had pushed the little craft into. It was difficult as the ground was a bit soft and he had no tow bar to steer it.
Pop quickly gave the two technicians a run down on the flight commenting on the disappointment he had about the fuel status upon landing…nearly none. One of the crew yelled for a coworker who was lifting some of the equipment from the rear of one of the lorries. “Hey Tom! Give us a minute will you.” He shouted.
Tom gladly let the box slide off his shoulder and back onto the tailgate of the truck. He quickly strode over to the shed and listened intently to Pop comment again about his lack of fuel upon landing. He stared at the aircraft while rubbing a hand through his hair, dirty from a long hard day.
“The top engineer figured you’d have a cushion to extend your time over the field.” He reached into his coverall pocket and pulled out a flashlight. The single bulb hanging from a cord at the rear of the shed did little to illuminate the aircraft. He started inspecting the aircraft for any obvious problems, most importantly leaks. The last place he looked he found what he was looking for. There was obviously seepage from an inspection panel on the left wings fuel tank fairing. Again he reached deep into a pocket of his coveralls and withdrew a tool to unfasten the fasteners holding the panel securely in place.
Another flashlight joined his own, Pop took the one Tom was using, holding it for him so he could use both hands to work. In quick order the panel was removed and he had his face and flashlight buried into the panel opening. Everyone was waiting on his findings.
“Better get things setup quick, looks as if we are going to need to pull more panels to get to what I suspect is a ruptured valve.” He said. Everyone shifted into high gear, tired as they were they unloaded all of the lorries, stacking the contents on the ground around them leaving just enough space for the lorries to move out of the way.
Some worked at carrying the crates and boxes to areas where they thought they’d best be set up. Others started the chore of unpacking and finding places inside the shed to store them. Every empty crate and box was used in some capacity. Either as a table or as a cubical with others to form storage bins and shelving. Some even removed the boards from the lorries that were used as troop seats, those were placed on the ground to act as planking for the aircraft’s wheels to rest on.
By the time the sun had risen, the crew had done everything they could until more tents or building were erected to store their gear. A portable kitchen van arrived with plenty of hot coffee and breakfast. Everyone stopped what they were doing and made a dash for the vehicle. A couple of very beautiful women wearing Army uniforms quickly opened up the van for business. The tired crew didn’t even hardly take notice. “These lads look ill.” One said.
“No ma’am we’re just tired. Been a long time since we last slept and it will be a while before we get to.” They all filed up one at a time to collect a cup of hot coffee or tea and a couple of big bacon and biscuit sandwiches. Pop waited until last. He helped himself as well but did manage to flirt with the ladies a bit to keep up their spirits. Wouldn’t want them feeling ugly and unappreciated.
The men ate slowly and as each finished they found that their full stomachs and tired bodies make it even more difficult to motivate themselves to get back to work. Pop stood up and stated. “You lads go catch a nap, I’ll wake you in a couple of hours, when I have arranged for each of you to get a hot shower and change into fresh uniforms. There was no argument, each man simply made himself comfortable as he could and drifted off to sleep. Pop Pickering set out in search of someone in charge of this woodland boy scout camp.
The commanding officer of the security force guarding the camp found Pop standing at the guard shack at the end of the access road asking the sentry where he might find a phone to call someone in charge. “I think I might be of assistance.” Said the Major.
“Good. I’d like to find facilities for my men to shower.” Pop said as he saluted the Major. The Major knew about Pickering, who was standing before him wearing a very soiled and wrinkled uniform.
“Do you often make it a habit of looking like that?” The Major asked Pop pointing at his clothing.
“Only when I am tired and haven’t had more than a few minutes sleep in a couple of days.” Pop responded.
“Then I suggest you follow me, I’ll show you where the showers are and where you and your men can find our camps facilities.” The Major said as he motioned Pop to accompany him.
They walked about half way back to where the cottage and shed were located. A path veered off into the woods and they walked in single file for about hundred yards. There under the trees were several very small buildings with tent roofs covered with camouflage netting. The showers are in that building, latrines over there. A small recreation hall with books, tables and chairs in that one. Not much else but we’re not here for fun now are we. Over there is my office and next to it is the dispensary. One of my men is a fine doctor, typically we’d be behind enemy lines but we’re on a period of rest ourselves. They put us here to provide security and conduct some special training.
Pop looked at the Major, and the building housing the showers. “How much hot water?” He asked.
“As much as it takes, there is a boiler on the other side of the building, it is kept lit 24 hours a day. Never know when our training and operation schedules might allow for the men to use them, so we keep the water hot all the time. Each of your men should get a good ten minutes worth of hot water. Takes the system about an hour and a half to reheat more.” Said the Major.
The next question was obvious. The Major pointed towards the direction of the cottage and the Pop’s men. “Down that path over there.”
Pop excused himself, saluted and trotted down the path to where the men were sleeping. Upon arriving he noticed several sentries standing guard around the perimeter of the cottage and shed. One acknowledge seeing Pop’s arrival and met him next to the cottage where the path passed it. “Just keeping an eye out, no one has disturbed your men, Major’s orders.” He whispered. Pop nodded his appreciation.
“All right you sleeping beauties, wake up! Pop yelled. “I promised you a nap and a hot shower, get your personal bags and follow me. That is if you want to scrub yesterday off your hides.” Pop asked one of the crewmen where his gear was. The crewmen shrugged his shoulders and said he though he had see it being loaded into the Mosquito that picked up the Test Director. Pop retrieved his flying coveralls from the cockpit of the aircraft. Draping them over his arm he lead the men down the path back to the small compound.
It was noon before the test director arrived at the new site. He drove his car up to the shed and exited the car. Accompanying him was another gentleman that no one recognized but from the expression on the Test Director’s face was someone important.
The two entered the shed and immediately noticed much of the skin from the left wing tip missing, exposing the internal components and structure. No one said a word, they just kept working or pretending to work. The Test Director broke the silence. “What happened?” He asked in a stern tone.
Everyone glanced at each other waiting for someone to answer. Tom finally stood up and pulled a towel from his rear coverall pocket and explained. “Looks as if one of the valve seals on the aft tank blew out while under pressure at altitude yesterday during the flight here. I believe the cold temperatures combined with the full fuel load and possibly too much pressure caused it to blow. We’ve pulled the valve, inspected the valve and replaced the seal. We’ve also checked every connection, valve, manifold and seal on the entire fuel system to see if others were effected. None found. We need a new pressure regulator and pressure relief valve before we can finish the job.”
“How long before its ready?” Asked the Test Director.
“As soon as someone gives us permission to call someone who might have one outside of this wooded hid away.” Responded Pop who was just returning from his shower, again he waited for his crew to get theirs. They managed to use all the hot water before Pop could get in. Standing on the opposite side of the shed in nothing but his flying coveralls Pop waited for a response.
“I’ll see that you get what you need. You’ll also find your personal effects in the boot of my car. I suggest you change into a fresh uniform and meet join us in the cottage.” Said the Test Director as he motioned for the gentleman with him towards the small cottage.
Pop retrieved his bags and used the back of shed to change. The men all made remarks and whistles as he did. “Watch it gents or I’ll tell those lovely ladies on the dinner wagon that you weren’t tired, just that you didn’t have an interest in them.” That silenced the lot of them!
Once dressed Pop entered the cottage and found the Test Director and the gentleman engage in a whispered conversation. “Capt Pickering this is Mr Smyth, one of Mr. Churchill’s advisers.” Of course his real name wasn’t Smyth but that didn’t matter. What did matter was this project was getting attention at from the very top levels.
“Glad to finally get to meet you Col Pickering, I have been reading your reports from the states for a long time. Very good work I might add.” Mr Smyth said.
Pop shook hands with the man replying. “Thank you sir. But is Captain Pickering.”
“Not anymore. I have here your promotion endorsed by Mr Churchill himself. You were promoted to Major several months ago but no one bothered to tell you.” He winked.
The Test Director extended his hand in to congratulate Pickering on his promotion. “Just accept it with a smile, the details will come later. You are now a Colonel. I have a new uniform blouse and flight suit for you in that bag there. Please put it on, you can change in that room there.” He said pointing to the door.
