Bomber
Paul Dowswell
Language: English
Pages: 140
ISBN: B00SOBF0OS
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
One in five never returned.
Every boy dreams of flying, but in war that dream can turn into a nightmare. Harry Friedman is the gunner of the Macey May, an American Flying Fortress stationed in East Anglia. The Second World War is raging and the Nazis have swept over Europe. The crews of every Flying Fortress face terrible odds on their bombing missions. To make it through alive, Harry will need luck on his side and courage...Courage to keep going when he has watched close friends die. Courage to confront a terrible evil. And the courage to make it home from deep behind enemy lines.
Nail-biting tension and compelling storytelling combine with Dowswell's meticulous research to deliver a page-turner for fans of John Boyne, Morris Gleitzman and Marcus Zusak.
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Life rafts, we did virtually nothing right when we ditched.’ ‘Don’t forget the paddle, chief,’ Corrales said. ‘That’s unlikely to earn you a medal, Sergeant,’ replied Holberg. He paused again and looked round the group. ‘I’m gonna leave you guys to talk things over. I hope you’ll feel you can back Cain up, just like you’d want your buddies in the crew to back you up.’ Then he left the hut. The non-coms were divided over Cain. ‘He could have killed us all,’ said Dalinsky. Corrales nodded. ‘I.
Don’t wanna fly a long mission with someone who’s gonna screw up. We got enough to worry about with the flak and the fighters.’ ‘It wasn’t all down to Cain – you can’t blame him for that storm blowing up,’ Skaggs said. ‘Cain knows his stuff,’ Harry said. ‘He was acting kinda strange. We shoulda realised he wasn’t getting enough oxygen. I think we should give him another chance.’ Corrales and Dalinsky still looked uncertain. John spoke next. ‘I like Cain. He doesn’t hold himself above the rest.
Later they were all inside the plane and Harry wondered if his feet would ever touch solid earth again. Everything became very real again when the squadron had taken off and they were up over East Anglia, manoeuvring into formation. All at once those droning engines seemed to break into his trance and he was there in his turret, looking down over the lower levels of the combat box – the tight formation bomb groups adopted to give them the best protection from fighter attack. It was a comfort,.
Interphone. ‘Job done. Let’s go home.’ The Fortress banked sharply to the west and once again the flak disappeared from the sky. ‘Harry, back to your turret,’ said Holberg, but Harry never heard him; he was already halfway there, stopping for a brief second to pat Hill and Dalinsky on the shoulder. Ten minutes away from Schweinfurt Harry’s headphone crackled. This time it was John Hill. ‘Think I see them coming out the sun.’ The sun had moved round in the sky so this time they were side on:.
Papers. They were well done, she explained, and it was important that the two of them learned the details so they could answer any question from a suspicious guard without hesitation. That night Harry and Stearley spent at least an hour memorising their new identities. How old were they? When were they born? What was their occupation? And most importantly, what was their name? Stearley spoke much better French than Harry and coached him on his accent and how to pronounce those essential.