Good old David Coke said, ‘If he’s shot down, sir, I imagine it’ll burn with him.’
‘Exactly,’ the Air Commodore said. ‘Now then, when you arrive back here, don’t land. Just circle the field.’ He turned to the others and said, ‘The rest of you will be waiting in your cockpits, and as soon as you see him overhead, you are to taxi out and take off. You’, he said, pointing at me, ‘will join up with them and all of you will fly on to Argos.’
‘Where’s that, sir?’
‘It’s another fifty miles along the coast,’ the Air Commodore said. ‘You’ll see it on your maps.’
‘What happens at Argos, sir?’
‘At Argos’, the Air Commodore said, ‘everything has been properly organized to receive you. Your ground crews are there already. So is your Squadron-Leader.’
‘Is there an aerodrome at Argos, sir?’ somebody asked.
‘It’s a landing strip,’ the Air Commodore said. ‘It’s about a mile from the sea and our navy is standing offshore waiting to take off the troops. Your task will be to give air cover to the navy.’
‘There are only seven of us, sir,’ someone said.
‘You’ll be doing a vital job,’ the Air Commodore announced, his moustache bristling. ‘You will be responsible for the protection of half the Mediterranean fleet.’
God help them, I thought.
The Air Commodore pointed a finger at me. ‘You,’ he said, ‘get cracking! Deliver that parcel and get back here as fast as you can!’
‘Yes, sir,’ I said. I went over to my Hurricane and got in and did up my straps. I put the mysterious package on my lap. On the floor of the cockpit under my legs I had the paper-bag with my belongings, as well as my Log Book. My camera, I remember clearly, was hanging by its strap from my neck. I taxied out and took off. I flew very low and fast, and in eight minutes I had reached Elevsis airfield. I circled the field once, looking for Germans or their planes. The place seemed totally deserted. I glanced at the windsock and banked straight in to land against the wind.
Just as I came to the end of my landing run, I heard the air-raid sirens wailing somewhere in the distance. I jumped out of my plane with my precious package and lay down in the ditch that surrounded the field. A great swarm of Stuka dive-bombers came over with their escort of fighters above them, and I watched them as they flew on to Piraeus harbour. At Piraeus they began dive-bombing the ships.
I got back into my Hurricane and taxied up to the Operations Hut. The small buildings were splattered with bullet marks and the glass in all the windows was shattered. Several of the huts were smouldering.
I got out of my plane and walked towards the wreckage of huts. There was not a soul in sight. The entire aerodrome was deserted. In the distance I could hear the Stukas diving on to the shipping in Piraeus harbour and I could hear the bombs exploding.
‘Is there anybody here?’ I called out.
I felt very lonely. It was like being the only man on the moon. I stood between the Ops Hut and another small wooden hut alongside. The small hut had grey-blue smoke coming out of its shattered windows. I held the famous package tightly in my right hand.
‘Hello?’ I called out. ‘Is there anybody here?’
Again the silence. Then a figure shimmered into sight beside one of the huts. He was a small middle-aged man wearing a pale-grey suit and he had a trilby hat on his head. He looked absurd standing there in his immaculate clothes amidst all that wreckage.
‘I believe that parcel is for me,’ he said.
‘What is your name?’ I asked him.
‘Carter,’ he said.
‘Take it,’ I said. ‘By the way, what’s in it?’
‘Thank you for coming,’ he said, smiling slightly.
I took an instant liking to Mr Carter. I knew very well he was going to stay behind when the Germans took over. He was going underground. And then he would probably be caught and tortured and shot through the head.
‘Will you be all right?’ I said to him. I had to raise my voice to make it heard over the crash of bombs falling on Piraeus harbour.
He reached out and shook my hand. ‘Please leave at once,’ he said. ‘Your machine is rather conspicuous out there.’
I returned to the Hurricane and started the engine. From my cockpit I glanced back to where Mr Carter had been standing. I wanted to wave him goodbye, but he had disappeared. I opened the throttle and took off straight from where I was parked. I flew back fast and low to the field at Megara where the other six were waiting for me on the ground with their engines running. When they saw me overhead, they took off one by one and we all joined up in loose formation and flew on to look for this place that was called Argos.
The Air Commodore had said it was a landing strip. It was in fact the narrowest, bumpiest, shortest little strip of grass any of us had ever been asked to land a plane upon. But we had to get down, so down we went.