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The Last Flight
It was a starry night of March 1945 in the forests of Ardenas. Eventhough spring was starting to show up, a cold breeze from winter flew through the pines and rivers. Two captain pilots of the Royal Air Force were resting in the camp; having a smoke, starring at the stars and talking about the battle that went on in the skies two months ago. The allies have struggled to beat the Nazis in that battle, but finally were able to defeat them and make them ran to Berlin.
Both of the pilots were saying how much they wanted the war to end, and also were confident that it was soon to be over. As far as they knew, this mission on the Battle of Ardenas could have been their last intervention at war. They couldn’t believe how the sky that they flew on, full of bombs and bullets could be so peaceful in that moment. It just looked like the painting made by Van Gogh, both agreed. Perhaps, the skies were never made for battle at all.
Next morning the trumpet woke them up from their tents earlier than usual. It was still dark with a cloudy sky; it looked like sunrise wasn’t happening that day. As the two pilots lead the crew into the command center, nervousness filled their faces. A crucial call was to be made. There were only two possibilities: going back home or one “last” mission. The Sargent showed up with a black folder underneath his arm. That was it. Another mission needed to be fulfilled. But this time, said the Sargent, was their last job. Churchill had made the call himself. He didn’t want the Nazis to get a chance to rise up. The crew was told to fly over to Berlin that same night on a surprise attack. A massive fast bombing over the Nazis’ shelters, so the ground armies would be able to end up the job.
The whole day was full of activity. Getting the airplanes set, charging the guns, filling the tanks with gasoline. Despite the fact that all the crew wanted to go home, they were always proud to be the ones who opened battle. “Per Ardua ad Astra” was their slogan, and in fact the perfect phrase to describe what was waiting for them that night. If they were able to survive the Battle of Britain, the two captains thought, this mission to Berlin shouldn’t be more than a piece-of-cake.
It was late in the afternoon, meaning it was time for take-off. Each captain boarded his own plane. All was set, and in matter of ten minutes all the crew was up in the sky. They were able to catch dusk from up there; it was an hour flight to get to Berlin. During that time, all what the two captains were talking on the radio was about the amazing sky they got that night, even brighter than last night. The moon, the stars and even a shooting star. They were doing just what they love to do, and maybe this last flight was worth the whole war. Suddenly, at a fair distance Berlin appeared.
All of the crew went into the accorded formation, as the attack was imminent. Just before the first bomb touched ground, the city was completely silent. Buildings, houses, rivers, everything was calm and if it wasn’t because they knew it was Berlin, it looked pretty much as London at night. They felt bad when thinking that innocent people would die. A big bang started the attack. They surely got them by surprise. Not a single bullet was received in response for about ten minutes. Afterwards, a few tanks started to shoot at them, but it looked like the Nazis decided to resist the attack not wanting to spend their last gunnery that night. While the order of retirement was given, out of nowhere there came this last tank. He aimed at one captain, and in a blink his plane was gone. The next second all of the crew turned the tank into ashes but it was too late.
Two months had passed since that last flight and World War II is finally over. The captain that survived was already in London at home. Every single night since then, he went to his house’s roof to have a smoke. One night, the brightest shooting star he’d ever seen crossed over. He knew his friend was now flying over greater skies he couldn’t even imagine.
