Bombers Moon

"Chuck!"

The afternoon air was stagnant, scorched by the sun, and smelled of hay and horse manure.Chuck quickly got down on his stomach and peeped at Mom through the cracks in the thick tobacco.She looked around in the backyard, with one arm on her hip and the other blocking the glare of the sun.

"Charles Sinclair!" Mom called again, sounding angrier than she had been a few minutes ago.

The tobacco provided good shelter for the little boy, and he lay there holding his breath, his chin almost touching the dirt.A beetle crawled slowly across the back of his hand, itching, and the boy watched as it burrowed under a small rock and disappeared.It's the fifth grade summer vacation, the year Chuck and the neighbor kids are obsessed with hide and seek, and the last one to be found is the winner.Chuck knows everyone else has been caught and he's the only one left, and Billy the Frogman will come to him with the other boys, and he has to be careful, move with a plan, and can't stay in the same place for too long .

The wet soil was very cool, and the shadow of the tobacco separated the harsh sunlight. Chuck simply lay down on the ground and lay his pillow on his arms. Anyway, his jacket was destroyed when he climbed up from the creek. A little mud on it doesn't make a difference.The tobacco field is so quiet that not even the rustling of the leaves rubbing against each other can be heard.Mom gave up and didn't call him again.The other boys didn't show up either, and Chuck would've heard them if they did, they were too noisy.

But no one came to him.The sun is slowly setting to the west, the shadows are getting longer, and the claws of the shadows are quietly extending into the field.Chuck rolled over on his back, looked at the sky, and listened.The silence was beginning to scare him a bit, no conversation, no footsteps, the chickens in the back yard didn't make a sound for some reason, and he couldn't even hear the noise of the truck engine, it stands to reason that someone should drive to town to buy it by now wine, or back from town.Chuck stood up and looked around carefully. The tobacco fields stretched in four directions, seemingly endless, cut off by the road in the northwest, the burning sun sank to the horizon, and the low-hanging clouds seemed to be stained with blood.No one was anywhere.

A sudden surge of fear sent the boy into a run, heading for the house on the side of the road.Large tobacco leaves were drawn on his face from time to time, and the sky was getting dark quickly. Every time he took a step forward, the color of the sky became darker.The house was not lit, and Chuck couldn't see clearly when he ran into the yard.The half-open door swayed slightly in the cold evening wind, making a shrill creak.

"Mom?" His voice trembled, "Mom? Dad?"

no answer.Somewhere on the second floor, a door was slammed shut by the wind, and it slammed, startling Chuck.He hesitated on the porch, but the fields had become scarier than the dark house, and the boy took a deep breath, stepped cautiously into the living room, felt for the light switch, pressed it several times, but the light refused to come on.A huge moon rose outside the window, illuminating tables, chairs, cupboards, and toys scattered on the floor. The kettle and dinner plates were still in place, and there was half a cigarette in the ashtray.The house appears to have been hastily abandoned.Chuck rushed out the door and ran to the other houses, which were also dark and lifeless.The boy called out the names of his friends, everyone he knew and would know, but there was no response.The full moon hangs overhead, looking down at him coldly.

Chuck woke up gasping for breath, groping around on the bedside table, knocking over a lot of things, and managed to turn on the lamp.He fell asleep without taking off his coat, his shirt soaked in cold sweat.Louis was gone, had an escort mission, left a scrawled note saying he would be back around seven in the morning.The glass windows of the dormitory vibrated with the noise of an RAF Blenheim night bomber sinking into the murky night sky, the sound receding, followed by the next one, and then another.

Chuck wrenched himself out of his coat and sweaty top, put on a clean shirt, pulled on an old pilled sweater, and set about picking up what had fallen to the floor.A stainless steel cup, a cigarette case, a short piece of a pencil, and a watch. The dial was cracked and the hands stopped at [-]:[-] in the morning.The photo frame Louis sent fell a little far away, and Chuck stared at it, as if he was guarding against a poisonous snake, and he reached out to pick it up after a while.

Because it was carried in the pocket before, the newspaper clipping in the photo frame has an obvious crease, which cuts the scrapped B-17 bomber in two.Beneath one of the massive engines, Chuck stood between Leo and Jody, all three in full bloated gear.Only Jody smiled at the camera, raising a gloved hand.Leo was expressionless, and Chuck looked slightly surprised, as if the cameraman hadn't waited for him to get ready before pressing the shutter.The headline of the story was "America's Brave Boy Slams Regensburg."

Chakra opened the drawer, threw the picture frame in, and slammed it shut.

-

Natalie came by on a cold Sunday afternoon in November to pack up Leo's belongings, not many, not enough to fill two cardboard boxes.Chuck helped her carry the box out and put it in the car.The widow shook hands with him, but said nothing more.Chuck stood where he was, watching the car pull away from the base and disappear into the freezing fog.

No one came to tell Chuck what to do with Jody's personal belongings, so he didn't touch anything and tried to stay out of the dorm as much as possible.The U.S. Eighth Air Force was still largely paralyzed, with an uncomfortably high amount of free time, and Chuck tried to pass the time at the bar, but the atmosphere was more somber than at the base.So he spent his days out in the open, playing with Miss Button, teaching her tricks with the help of little rusks, and the duck never learned to pick up the little stick Chuck threw, but he did learn when he heard Chuck The call came madly, with a posture of knocking all the ground crew in the hangar into the air, and there seemed to be small jet engines installed under the wings.

After dark he slipped into Louie's room, since no one would notice that he was late for no reason.When Louie wasn't on duty, they shared a bottle of whiskey wrapped in blankets and drank straight from the bottle, not bothering to use the glass.The chill was pervasive, seeping through the windows, the walls, and the cracks in the ground. The blanket was their tent, and the lamp was the dying bonfire. The two spoke in low voices so as not to disturb the darkness.On the night when there was a bombing mission, Chuck paced boredly in the small room, sat on the chair, got up after a while, lay down on the bed, stared at the watch, counted the hours, and fell asleep unconsciously.Louie often came back in the early morning, shivering with cold, quietly took off his coat, climbed onto the bed, and got into Chuck's arms.

"Good evening, sir." Chuck shifted a little, wrapping his arms around Louie.

"Good morning."

"Is everything going well?"

"Very."

But they all understand that this is not the case. The Royal Air Force’s bombing of Berlin is almost at no cost. Since the evening of November 11, the air defense alarm in Berlin has not stopped throughout the winter. The loss rate of the British bombers is also the same. It is a bit unreasonable that the U.S. Eighth Air Force will not return to the battlefield.After the New Year, the Combined Command re-deployed its disjointed bomber squads and pieced together the crippled crews.Chuck was assigned to a B-18 called the Thunderbird March, the original pilot was killed on Black Thursday, as was the machine gunner and radio operator, only the bombardier and navigator survived by parachuting .Because there were two empty beds on Chuck's side, and the two were about to move in, Chuck had to pack Jody's things into boxes and pile them in the corner to make room for the new roommate.

"I can't come back tomorrow night."

Louie pulled the quilt over and wrapped himself with Chuck.The two had just finished making love, sweating and starting to feel cold. "Did the new roommate live in?"

"Yeah, sooner or later they'll find out that I'm not really out there writing poetry to the moon."

"Are you about to go on a mission?"

"Tried it yesterday, at least I remember where the control stick is."

"How about the new crew?"

"is acceptable."

"Just 'okay'?"

"They're great, but." Chuck hesitated, "but they're not Leo and Jody."

"You will get used to it, and even if you don't, you have no choice." Louis turned over and turned his back to him, "And you can fly back to China after one more flight, can't you? No. 20 has five outings."

"I may not go back."

Louis turned around again, propped his upper body on his elbows, looked at Chuck, and the cold air took advantage of his movement to get into the quilt: "What do you mean 'not going back'?"

"It is to continue serving at Biegun Hill."

"You should go back."

"What? I thought you'd be glad to hear I was going to stay."

"I am, but," Louis pursed his lips and rearranged his answer, "it's not safe here."

Chuck almost laughed, "Thank you, I thought this was a resort if you didn't tell me."

"I mean, if you go back to America, at least I won't be so scared." Louis touched the scar on the corner of his left eye. "You are very good at making people worry, Sergeant Sinclair."

"Sir, you're the one who runs around the channel every night with a flamethrower."

"Charles, I'm not going to argue with you whose mission is more dangerous. Reconsider, okay? Just take it for me. If you don't mind, turn off the light by the way, I'm tired."

Chuck wants to keep arguing, asking "what do we do", but the question inevitably involves the future, and the future he can see now is a scorched earth burned by war, which is why no pilot wants to talk about "the future" , too extravagant for them.Chuck turned off the light, hugged Louis from behind, kissed the back of his neck, closed his eyes, and listened to the ticking of the small clock in the dark.

That night Chuck didn't dream of the tobacco fields again.

-

Chuck's return to combat was originally scheduled for January 1944, 1, but freezing rain fell on the day of the operation, and fog and clouds swarmed up, covering the entire East Anglian coastline.They barely made it to the air in heavy rain and darkness, but were eventually recalled and the mission called off.Nervous pilots were sent back to their quarters "to wait until further notice."While no one said it, Chuck was sure everyone else was as relieved as he was, especially Giraffe.

"Giraffe," who slept in Leo's old bunk, was the machine gunner for "March of the Thunderbirds," and Chuck only knew his nickname, not his real name, which smacked of obvious sarcasm because "Giraffe" Only 1.5 meters seven, it is very suitable for drilling into the spherical turret, and it is also very suitable for being laughed at.Sergeant Flint occupied Jody's bunk, whose name Chuck didn't know and didn't bother to ask.

The crew wasn't the only new thing Chuck had to get used to, as the long-awaited long-range fighter jets of the US Army Air Corps finally landed on Beacon Hill when they crawled up in rain and thin ice in February.These brand new P-51 Mustangs had an extra large fuel tank, enough to carry them with the bombers deep into Germany and back.More than half of the Mustang pilots have just come from the United States, excited and energetic, like a group of hounds eager to taste their first blood.Chuck couldn't help but wonder if he seemed so eager and innocent two years ago.He told Louis this idea, and the other party laughed for a while without answering.

Chuck's No. 20 five missions happened to be the first mission of the Bronco squad. On February 1944, 2, the gale created a precious clear gap in the low-hanging clouds, and in order to make the most of the daylight, the bomber fleet was leaving before dawn.Chuck scanned the hangar, where Louie would probably be there for one reason or another, watching him take off.

Today, however, is an exception.Chuck shook his head, swallowed vague disappointment, and ran to the "Thunderbird March" parked in the distance, not knowing what he was expecting.The brightly painted navigator (*Note 1) took off before his eyes, a flash of bright blue.Chuck looked away and forced himself to focus on the console and the takeoff steps.

After four months, the B-17 bomber at Beacon Hill took off again, assembled, and turned east, surrounded by silvery Mustangs, towards Berlin.

Note 1:

The navigator does not participate in the mission, it is only used as a reference point during assembly, so it will be painted beautifully (.