Somewhere in France, 30th May, 1940
The moon was peeking out from behind the thick dark clouds as the Vickers Wellington, a medium-class British bomber, gradually made its way across France.
Bill Edwards, a youthful looking lad from North London, stared out of the cabin window. The cloud cover was fairly light so, every now and then, as they passed a town, lights would appear below. But, as the clouds increased and light rain began to hit the window, he could no longer see anything, so he leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes.
His mind drifted back to last October, the month that his life had spiralled out of control. He didn’t want to keep thinking about that date, but knew that it would be forever burnt into his memory.
It was the day that he learnt about his parent’s fate. The life that he knew, and loved, had changed for the worse. If he closed his eyes, he could still see the chubby officer as it were yesterday. He’d looked spick and span in his uniform, but his solemn expression and sunken eyes revealed what he had been sent there to do.
Bill opened his eyes as the rain increased and he remembered where he was. As he glanced across at his red-haired friend, Jim Willow, he thought about all the happy times that they had enjoyed together. He had known him for nineteen years, all his life. They had grown up on the same street together, had gone to the same school, and had even dated the same girls.
They had also joined the Royal Air Force at the same time, just after turning seventeen. They had wanted to follow in their parents footsteps who had also been members of the British Armed Forces and had died for their country in an attack at the Scapa Flow Naval Base in Scotland. Both had sped through training and had soon risen to the top.