Waiting for the Violins

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Authors: Justine Saracen
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dark, though the moonlight lit his white hair and revealed it was the squadron leader, arrived for the final briefing. He shook all their hands first, then unfolded a map onto the tarmac.
    “Here’s your dropping point, on this field.” He tapped an area at the top left. “It’s bounded by woods, so that should give you some cover. This stream is just north of you, so once you get your bearings, you should move on eastward toward Brussels. Remember, it’s going to be a very short jump, only around 300-400 feet to avoid radar detection, so after your chute opens, you’ll hit the ground within about fifteen seconds.”
    “Yes sir. We’ll be ready,” Antonia said.
    “Good. And once you’re down, remember to bury your chutes and overalls. You’re to make your way into Brussels and try to locate Andrée or Frédéric de Jongh. I wish we had more information about them, but all we know is that Andrée walked into the British Consulate in Bilbao with three escapees she had brought down from Belgium. Your task is to find her and help integrate her network with us. As soon as you’ve connected with her, contact us on the wireless. You’ve got plenty of Belgian money between you, but obviously your contacts are going to have to find you lodgings to start off with. After we’ve gotten your message, we’ll prepare the next phase of operations.”
    “Yes, sir. They’ve explained all that to us,” Lew said, fidgeting under the weight of his equipment.
    “Remember, if you’re captured with your wireless and the enemy forces you to radio us, you must include this in your message: We’re fine, both of us. Don’t worry . In any normal transmission, no one will ask how you are, so you should wire those words only if you have, in fact, fallen into their hands.”
    Two men emerged from the hangar wheeling a handcart that held their suitcases and wireless kit. With a brief salute to the squadron leader, they slid the three items into the tail section of the aircraft, attaching them to a static line that would open their shared parachute.
    The flight crew of pilot, navigator, and radio operator saluted as well before climbing aboard to prepare the flight.
    “Off you go now, chaps.” The squadron leader shook both their hands again and clapped them once on their shoulders. “Godspeed.”
    Antonia gripped the sides of the entry hatch and threaded herself inside, along with her bulky parachute. Once inside, she moved in a crouch to the center of the refitted bomber. She sat down and drew up her knees to make room for Lew to squat next to her. Directly behind him came the dispatcher, who would accompany them as far as the landing zone before returning with the flight crew.
    The plane engines began, preventing any talk between them. They squatted in a compartment separated by a wall from the cockpit. Only the dispatcher had a headset for communication with the crew. While they taxied to the runway, he hooked her parachute to the automatic rip-cord system in the plane.
    The dispatcher said something into his headset, and a minute later, with a roar of the engines, the plane lifted off the runway.
    They had no porthole to look through at the night sky or the ground below, but Antonia found the isolation a sort of comfort. She didn’t want to be reminded of the darkness she would have to leap into over an unknown place.
    It was cold inside the fuselage, and she shivered in spite of the woolen clothing she wore underneath. When the dispatcher handed her a sleeping bag and gestured that she should try to sleep, she slid awkwardly but gratefully into it. She was far too nervous to sleep, but welcomed the extra layer of warmth.
    Slouched over her parachute pack amidst the roar and with nothing to do but wait, she was left prey to her wandering thoughts. How had she ended up here?
    What would her parents have thought if they were still alive? Her father would certainly have been proud, but dear sweet Mum would’ve been in a panic.

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