Tomb of the Lost

Chapter TWENTY



Life for the fighter pilots of 225 squadron was like any other day for the men stationed in Thelepte, Tunisia. They flew an average of six sorties a day attacking enemy vehicle convoys, enemy aircraft and sometimes shipping. Some times they flew early in the mornings, sometimes at night, sometimes alone. But for the men, thankfully, it was very rare that they didn’t come back. They hadn’t lost a plane for nearly a month, a comrade, a friend.

Currently they had no planes out. The pilots taking a well earned rest. They had been out today already.

Bill Smith and his squadron had encountered the small unarmed German Fiesler Storch that very morning and it was a very embarrassed Bill who’d had to explain to his C.O. that he’d observed it and then let it go. Standing before Wing Commander Kenneth Wigmore he didn’t tell him that he’d actually waved to it. Not that the C.O. would have taken much of a view on that but Bill would never live it down with his mates.

Four of them were sat at a rickety wooden table playing stud poker. Bill, his brother, Don Foster and Tommy Burke. The other two of their close circle were brewing tea in an old petrol can. They served up the tea. Bill thanked them and took a swig, it was hot and tasted strongly of petrol. No matter what they did to the tea you couldn’t get rid of the taste of the fuel. After a while you got used to it.

Bill grimaced and held the tin cup away from his lips, frowning at it.

“Did you bother to wash the petrol can out first?”

Tommy Hurst who had served the tea looked offended.

“Of course we did. What do you think we’re trying to do, poison you?”

“It would be a good guess,” Bill said to the sniggering of the others.

The other tea brewer Jack Meadows looked up.

“If you don’t like it mate make it yourself.”

Bill looked at the others and took another swig.

“It tastes absolutely wonderful,” he said swilling it around his teeth.

They all chuckled at his sarcasm.

Meadows held up the petrol can to pour the rest of the tea. It trickled from holes in the can. It was a known fact that fifty percent of the British fuel was lost in this way.

“Now if only we could find ourselves a nice German ’Jerry’ can,” Meadows said “They don’t bloody leak.”

“Would the tea taste any better?” Don enquired.

“It couldn’t taste any worse,” Bill replied.

Don picked the cards up and began shuffling.

“Right if you’re ready,” he said with a cigarette clenched between his teeth.

“Here I wouldn’t smoke near that tea if I were you,” Bill said.

“Right mate you’ve bloody asked for it,” Meadows jumped to his feet and as Bill leaped from his chair Meadows chased him around the table, all the while laughing. The others got to their feet. Part of the game as well.

“Run Bill run!” they shouted “Get him Don get him!”

They chased each other until finally the table and chairs went over. Jack Meadows caught Bill Smith and rugby tackled him to the sand. They rolled around laughing and Bill grabbed hold of Jack’s head as Jack playfully punched Bill in the ribs. Finally exhausted jack rolled off and they both lay on their backs staring at the sky. Don and the others watching. For these men play time was all important. Don dropped his cigarette butt to the sand and buried it with his boot.

“Now if you two ladies have finished playing ring-a-ring a roses perhaps we can play cards.”

Jack and Bill turned their heads to him. Don showed them the pack of cards he’d been holding the whole time.

“Seeing as you two knocked the table over you can set it up,” Don continued.

Bill and Jack turned to each other now.

“I will if you will,” Jack said.

Bill got to his feet and held out a hand and pulled his friend up.

“I need to do something to take my mind off that tea,” Bill said.

“Hey watch it!” Jack bunched his fist under his friends nose.

Bill threw his arm around Jack’s shoulder.

“Come on before he starts moaning,” he said quietly gesturing to Don who now had his back to them, “You know what he’s like with his poker.”

“Time’s a wasting,” Jack said quietly so only Bill could hear.

They both chuckled. Don turned round.

“Come on you two. Time’s a wasting.”

They quickly set the table back upright and positioned the seating. A lucky few actually got chairs, the others had to make do with a variety of items including empty ammunition boxes. Soon the six men were seated.

We’ll play seven card stud poker,” Don began shuffling the cards “No limits but please let’s keep it friendly ladies.”

He struggled to shuffle the cards, they were an old pack, yellowed by the sun and age and sticky from so much use. Don finished his shuffling, took the top card and placed it on the bottom in case anyone had seen it and dealt. First each player received a card face down. Then he went round the table again. Another card face down each. Then the next four cards were dealt face up and then finally each player received their last card face down. Don put the remainder of the pack in the middle of the table.

“Whoever has the highest hand goes first,” he said for the players who had not long been playing poker. Jimmy Smith, Bill’s brother was the least experienced player. For weeks he had watched the others playing, trying to pick it up, then finally Bill had persuaded him to play.

“It’s the only way you’ll learn,” his older brother had said.

Now Jimmy was hooked. It was all he ever talked about.

“Can you quickly tell me the hands again,” he asked.

Bill opened his mouth to speak but an irritated, impatient Don got in first.

“High card, one pair, two pairs, three of a kind, a straight, flush, full house, four of a kind, straight flush, royal flush.”

“Aces can be high or low?”

“Yes!”

“O.k. I was only asking.”

“You’ve got a pair of nines. What are you doing?”

Jimmy looked at the agitated Don.

“All right keep your hair on.”

Some of the others were trying not to laugh. Don got so wound up over slow play.

“He’s not been playing long,” Bill said defending his brother.

“You’ve got a pair of nines,” Don said to Jimmy, ignoring Bill and the others who sat embarrassed into silence, “It’s you to go first.”

Jimmy looked at all the other hands. No one else had a pair. He looked at his stake money. It wasn’t much. They hadn’t received any pay for weeks. He took two coins of small value and put them in the middle with the ante’s. Bill looked at his cards and folded. Don went once calling the bet. The two Tommy’s both folded. Jack went once, open, he’d looked at his cards. Jimmy looked at the growing pile of coins in the pot. He touched more coins, trying to decide what to do. He looked at his brother for help.

“If I were you I’d look. They’ve both looked,” Bill said looking at jack who was watching the cards. Don was staring at Jimmy, a slight smug expression on his face. He was a master at bluffing. At calling other peoples bluff.

“Look, “ Bill continued “If you improve go. If not well it’s up to you.”

Jimmy picked his three other cards up.

‘A six and two Kings’

Kings and nines!

He put the cards back down and pushed his coins in. Don jutted his chin out but his eyes were giving away nothing. He quickly pushed more coins in, trying to appear hasty to put Jimmy off. Jack shook his head and threw his cards in. Jimmy looked at his small, remaining, stake money. He was annoyed at his brother for advising him to go on improvement. Don obviously had him beat and Jimmy couldn’t afford to lose much. He reached for his cards to stack them.

“Pay to see him,” Bill insisted.

“What’s the point. He’s got more than me.”

“See him anyway.”

Jimmy put the coins in.

“I’ll call.”

He turned his cards over.

“I’ve got Kings and nines.”

Don smirked as he threw his cards in. Everyone looked at them.

“Sixes and fours,” Don said.

“Told you,” Bill said as Jimmy punched the air and raked the pot in.

“I don’t think you should be allowed to interfere,” Don said to Bill.

“He’s not been playing for long. You tried to bluff him and besides he is my brother.”

“Very well but I did say let’s keep it friendly.”

“Then don’t try to bluff.”

Don pushed the pack of cards over to Jimmy.

“Winner deals.”

Jimmy picked them up and gave them a quick shuffle.

Jack Meadows was the first one to go bust. He refused the offers of a loan and left to make more petrol flavoured tea. They had been playing for an hour. Jimmy had had some success and felt he was getting much better at poker. He was certainly taking more risks, adopting a strategy of always going if he could beat what was on the table, calling Don’s bluff on a few occasions and winning. Now Jimmy had dealt again. Face up he had a King, a nine, a seven and a four. He picked up his three other cards. An Ace and two more fours. He tried not to let the excitement show and nervously glanced at the others in case his reaction had given him away.

No?

Good!

They were all concentrating on the cards. He looked at the pot. It contained a pile of coins of various denominations, some of them German and Arabic as well as English. There was a handful of cigarettes, a lighter, an old watch. For these young men that was a lot to play for. Jimmy slid a few more coins into the middle.

“I’m open.”

His brother Bill looked at his cards and folded. Don checked his cards. He had nothing. He had bluffed too many times today and lost, so he folded. Tommy Burke had a straight, three, four, five, six, seven. He gently put his cards down and looked at his stakes. Like the others he had some coins but not much else of value. He watched Jimmy, trying to read him. But jimmy was giving nothing away. Finally he looked at his cards again and pushing more coins in he said.

“I’ll raise.”

Jimmy studied Tommy’s cards. He had nothing obvious showing. No pairs. Just two hearts, a diamond and a spade. The hearts were the three and five. Jimmy decided to chance it. He called and raised. Tommy was surprised at the raise but had seen Jimmy call bluffs all day.

“I’m in,” he said pushing the majority of his coins across.

“Me too,” Jimmy quickly pushed the last of his stake money in. Now he had nothing left in front of him. It was all in the middle. All on this one hand.

“Are you not seeing me?”

“No,” Jimmy shook his head.

Bill looked at his brother.

“You’re not calling him?”

“No.”

“But you have nothing left.”

“It’s all right I know what I’m doing,” Jimmy was convinced that his confidence would scare Tommy into giving him the pot. Tommy didn’t have enough left to call either.

“I don’t have enough to call,” he said looking around the faces at the table.

“Then the pot’s mine.”

Jimmy stretched forward to scoop the winnings.

“Not so fast!” Tommy grabbed him by the wrists. Jimmy moved back. Tommy reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out his old battered leather wallet. He fished around inside it and pulled out a photograph of his sweetheart Mary and placed it in the middle with the last of his money. There were a few whistles from the men around the table. They had seen the photograph before. Tommy’s love, Mary, was the most beautiful girl any of them had ever seen. She was in the R.A.F. stationed as a radio operator at Biggin hill. In the photo she was saluting sexily while blowing a kiss at the camera. She was in her R.A.F. uniform but her hair was loose, long dark curls hanging down her shoulders. All of them were jealous of Tommy for having such a beauty. Jimmy took his eyes off the photograph long enough to speak to Bill.

“Lend me the money Bill please.”

Bill tore his eyes away from the beauty.

“You’ve lost. May as well accept it.”

“Please lend me the money.”

“You won’t win.”

Jimmy showed him the blind cards.

Bill nodded.

“It’s not enough.”

“I think he’s bluffing again.”

Bill shook his head.

“I don’t think he is.”

“He must be. He would never risk that photograph unless he was sure that he would win.”

Jimmy was staring at the beautiful face in the picture.

“Lend me the money please brother. I must have her.”

Bill sighed.

“Very well but I did warn you.”

He found the money, put it in the middle and then sat back resigned.

“Okay,” Tommy said “You show your cards first.”

Jimmy took his eyes off the photograph.

“Three fours,” he said spacing them out.

He glanced nervously at the photograph again and then stared at Tommy Burke.

Tommy winked at him and moved the three and five of hearts apart. You could cut the air with a knife, the tension was so high. Everyone watched Tommy as he picked his cards up and very slowly, almost painstakingly turned them over and laid them down face up.

‘4,6,7’

A straight!

The table erupted into gasps. Jimmy sank back in his chair, his eyes closed. Tommy reached out and scooped the pot.

“I think I win,” he said. He picked up the photograph of Mary and kissed it, “Welcome back darling,” he said teasing the others.

Jimmy opened his eyes, shaking his head.

“I don’t believe it,” he said. He’d wanted to win that picture so much.

“Well I did try telling you,” Bill said ”You need to listen to me a bit more little brother.”

“I thought he was bluffing.”

“He’d never let that photo go ever.”

The first of the aeroplanes engines started up, gaining their attention.

“All right lads playtime is over,” Captain Witherington with Wigmore joined them at the table, “To me gentlemen please as quickly as you can.”

He waited for the thirty or so pilots to group around him.

“We’ve received reports of an aerial convoy off the coast….” he spread out a map…”Here,” he pointed.

“How far away are they sir,” someone asked.

“Approximately fifty miles.”

“What are we up against.”

“They’re bombers. Presumably looking for targets of ours. I must warn you though gentlemen. They will probably have an escort of fighters. These will be your objectives….”

The pilots listened with excitement. The card game forgotten already. Captain Witherington briefed them, there was a buzz of excitement. The chance of some real action at last.

“Good luck gentlemen.”

Witherington saluted “Dismissed.”

The pilots of 225 squadron quickly made their way to their machines. Tommy Burke charged after the brothers calling out. Bill heard him first. The brothers stopped for him to catch up.

“Just wanted to make sure you were all right about that last hand.”

Jimmy offered his right hand which Tommy instantly shook.

“Of course, you won it fairly.

“Yes I did. It was a little bit dirty of me putting that photograph in. I know how the men look at her.”

“She’s a very beautiful woman,” Bill replied “You’re very lucky.”

“I know. I worry about her sometimes . While we’re over here I wonder if she’s safe. If those bastards are bombing where she works….”

“I’m sure she’s equally worried about you out here every day.”

The last of the Spitfires were started up.

“We’ll see you when we get back.”

“Keep that picture safe,” Jimmy said “Because when we get back I’m winning it from you.”

Tommy laughed and thumped him on the shoulder.

“No chance.”

Jimmy hugged his brother at his aeroplane.

“See you when we get back,” he said turning to climb the short ladder to the cockpit. He paused at the top to quickly wave at Bill and then crammed his flying hat onto his head and sat in the plane. He reached forward and flicked various switches and checked all the guages while doing up the harness. A member of groundcrew climbed the ladder and checked the harness for tightness and satisfied he gave Jimmy the thumbs up and descended the ladder. He went around to the front and gave the pilot the signal to start the engine. Jimmy flicked the ignition on and the crewman reached up and pulled the propeller down with all his might, stepping out of the way as he did so. The Rolls Royce Merlin engine roared into life. Jimmy held the plane on its footbrakes and the crewman whipped the triangular wooden chocks out from under its wheels. Jimmy eased the throttle back and the plane began to roll. The oil guage needle was flickering about and he tapped it with his fingers and it settled. Satisfied that everything was all right he began taxi-ing the small aircraft across the desert floor towards the smooth runway. He checked the windsock. It was barely moving, no breeze, almost perfect conditions for flying. The thirty aeroplanes all began taking off, some just seconds apart. Jimmy suddenly found himself alongside Don and Don waved as they took off together. Captain Witherington watched as each of the planes under his command took off. He watched as they disappeared slowly from his sight until all he could hear were the droning engines. Then they too disappeared and he looked around his silent airfield. A light breeze stirred up some dust and blew it across the runway, the windsock still barely moving. A large piece of dry tumbleweed blew across the sand in front of him. All there was left to do now was to wait. He looked across at two Spitfires parked up, waiting for parts and a service. His days of flying long over now. Witherington sat at the card table. The cards were still there and he picked them up and shuffled them. Then in no hurry he dealt himself a game of patience.