The Iron Storm by CW Browning (classic literature books TXT) 📕

be able to determine if he is simply escaping the invasion like everyone else, or if your instincts are correct. And if they are, we should be able to find out what his game is between us. If we can’t, we hardly deserve to be in the positions we are.”

Evelyn let out a short laugh. “And how will we convince him to do that? He’s anxious to get me home, safe and sound.”

Josephine grinned and got up. “I’m sure we’ll think of something. We’ll worry about that in the morning. Right now, I’ll leave you to get some rest.” She tilted her head and looked at Evelyn seriously. “You look different, my friend.”

Evelyn raised her eyebrows. “Do I? I did lose quite a bit of weight, but I’m slowly gaining it back.”

“No. It’s not that. You’re different. You look...I don’t know. Older somehow.”

“Well thank you very much!”

Josephine laughed. “I didn’t mean it like that! Only that you look more mature. You look as if something has changed you. Has it?”

“Only the war,” Evelyn replied with a wry smile. “I think you’re imagining things. Perhaps you should get some rest. I’m just the same woman I was last month.”

Josephine shook her head and went to the door. “No. That you are not. You are changed, but I think it is for the better.” She opened the door and looked back smiling. “I’m glad you’re here. I’m so happy to see you again.”

Evelyn smiled. “So am I.”

Josephine went out the door and the smile faded from Evelyn’s lips as the door closed. She had changed. Norway had changed her in ways that she didn’t even fully understand, but Josephine had no reason to know about that. No one did. It was in the past, and that was where it must stay. She turned towards the bed. The war was changing them all. It was inevitable. Soon enough, this war would also change Josephine.

And Evelyn had a feeling it would happen much sooner than any of them expected.

Chapter Nineteen

10th May, 1940

Dear Evelyn,

I just posted a letter to you this morning, but I had to sit down tonight to write another. Can you believe it? We’ve been hearing updates all day, and with each one it gets worse. The Luftwaffe is going ahead of the ground troops, bombing in advance. Brussels and Antwerp are getting hit the worst, from all accounts, and so is Rotterdam. It’s really ingenious what the Jerries have developed in their Blitzkrieg. I’m obviously not in favor of the destruction, but no one can deny the effectiveness. As the air force bombs the airfields, communications towers and bridges and transport lines, the ground troops move in behind them, taking advantage of the chaos left behind. It’s truly frightening how effective it is.

I know two pilots who are in France flying Hurricanes. We heard tonight that the air battles over Belgium are already fierce. Funny thing, that. The Luftwaffe is outnumbered by the RAF, French and Belgians, but they’re managing to inflict heavy damage. Apparently they destroyed most of the Belgian air force on the ground before they could even retaliate. Is this the air force that everyone said was no threat? For that matter, is this the German army that everyone said couldn’t afford to go up against the French army? I’m very much afraid that what they lack in numbers, they more than make up for in artillery and tactics. If our lads can stop them in Belgium, and prevent them from getting into France, we still have a fighting chance. But if they can’t...

At least now we have a Prime Minister who will do more than hem and haw and delay. Have you heard? I’m sure you have. Chamberlain resigned this evening, and Winston Churchill succeeded him! Not Halifax as we all imagined. I’m terribly pleased by this turn of events. I think Churchill just might be exactly what we need in Downing Street. Why, he even looks pugnacious! I know many people laugh at him, and most of the party don’t even like him, but he will stand and fight. He won’t back down, and that is what we need right now with Hitler on the move. Luxembourg didn’t even put up a fight, from what I’ve heard. At least Belgium is fighting.

I hope you’re safe and doing well in Cornwall. That is where you said you were going next, isn’t it? At least it’s warmer there than in Wales where you got so ill. Please take care of yourself. I wish you could have rested for a while longer, but at least you’re safely tucked away in what has to be one of the most relaxing places in England. You’re well away from the excitement. 

I go down to the advance station in the morning, so I must wrap this up. I hope you’re well, and I can’t wait to see you again. 

Always yours, 

FO Miles Lacey

RAF Duxford

London

May 11

Bill looked up when there was a quick knock and his office door opened to admit his assistant Wesley. He carried a sheaf of paper in one hand and a ledger in the other.

“I have the latest reports on troop movements, the first batch of transmissions from the basement, and the operating ledger you requested,” he said cheerfully, closing the door behind him. “And tea’s almost up. They’ll bring it around shortly.”

“Anything from Belgium?” Bill asked, holding out one hand for the stack of papers while he closed the folder he was studying with the other.

“No. Two messages came in from France. They’re at the top of the stack. One is from our man in Metz, and the other is from an unknown source.”

Bill raised an eyebrow and pulled the first two sealed messages from the top of the pile. Tearing open the first one, he scanned the message translated by the radio operators in the basement. His face lightened almost immediately.

“Fantastic!” he exclaimed. “It’s from Jian. She’s escaped Brussels and is safely in France. She’ll contact again