Tis a beautiful sight (Nathan, Charles)

[MAJ Patterson]

It had been storming the passed few nights on the western side of the base, but the clouds had departed and the sun was bumping the humidity to a level that makes everything seem sticky to the touch. Patterson had arrived shortly before 0900 hours with his close friend Giles, the Senior Sergeant of his Head-Quarters Company, there wasn't really any intended reason for the visit, but it had been quite a while since Patterson had visited the Aviation side of his unit, or had he heard anything from them either. Just didn't seem to be much of an air war at this point in hostilities. That was something he was looking change, drastically.

"Sir, seems like they have been training more than necessary from the looks of these logs." Giles noted as he thumbed through the stack of papers on the desk. The Hangar seemed somewhat empty and in a few moments they knew why.

A pair of spitfires came screaming across the sky, low level flying from the looks of it as a third came to a stop almost perfectly in front of the Hangar doors after landing. Seemed another was following suit, just touching down as the first one turned and rolled into the opening hangar doors the airmen had just rolled open. "Giles, seems these guys at least have fun when there is nothing to do, schedule some extra training for the pair of Infantry platoons along with the Medical platoon, some stretcher drills and what not, no need in the Aviation company hogging all the fun during their down time." He said as he smiled a bit to himself, he knew the men would groan and complain about it, but at least their dislike of the extra training was something that would bring about an added sense of unit cohesion.

The first pilot stepped down from his spitfire after it came to a quiet halt in the large hangar parking area. The 3ID was pretty much the only unit on the instillation with more than one hangar, and they were certainly the only unit that filled multiple hangars with planes. It was his veteran Flight Sergeant pulling his helmet off and walking bristly up to the Captain, one of the few men in the unit that could always bring a smile to Patterson's face.

[Nathan Whyte]

The airfield always appears too quickly, and no pilot enjoys landing. Having to put yourself in a certain place at a certain speed where even the tiniest error could result in death is never fun, but with enough practise and the almost perfect conditions they had at the moment, it was a very safe procedure. The Flight Sergeants did a final check his flaps were down, and wiggled his wings once again to make sure the landing gear had engaged as he checked the power was minimal. With a small shudder, the wheels made contact with tarmac, and he chopped the throttle applying the wheel brakes. The plane quickly fell from seventy miles per hour to zero, with the rear wheel touching down on the ground. Slowly, he applied more power and began taxiing, cutting straight off the runway and over some grass to facilitate for more landings. He popped back on to the taxiway and, looking out the side of the cockpit, manouevered himself over to the hanger.

He gave a thoughtful "hmm" to himself as he saw the CO, Captain Patterson standing inside the hanger, and had a feeling there may be some important words ahead, but he didn't rush as he detatched the oxygen and radio from his leather helmet. He raised the flaps back to their neutral position and turned the fuel mix to zero percent, and let the engine use up the remaining fuel inside it before cutting out. This meant he was sure the engine was dry and that it wouldn't turn on by accident. He made sure the fuel pump was off and began flicking off the electrics, turned off the master switch and finally removed the key. He pushed back the canopy and stepped out on to the wing. He reached a hand out and took the control lock from a waiting aircraftman and applied it to the rudder, immobilising it.

He jumped off the wing on to the concrete, undoing the buckle of his helmet and pulled it off. He heard another Spitfire pulling to a stop behind him, but he didn't react to it, other than a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure it had stopped behind the yellow line on the apron. A jeep slowly drove past him with towing gear to attatch on to the Spitfire's nose and pull it in to the hangar.

He carried on walking, stopping about two meters in front of Captain Patterson and popping a salute. He made sure he did it in the American fasion holding his hand sideways to the right of his eyebrow instead of the Commonwealth way, displaying his palm beside his head. "Good morning Sir, how can I help you today?"

[Charles Norris]

Flight Lieutenant Norris tore his eyes away from the supply form to glance up just as two spitfires buzzed past his window. The quick distraction from his paperwork reminded Charles that the war was not only fought by the pen, and it was about time he got himself into the cockpit of his spit. He’d have to remember to open up some space in his schedule so he could put himself on the training roster. But there was only so much training you can do until it become wasteful, in both the spent gas and the sense of routine that would be fatal if the pilots ever got the go ahead for an actual mission. Close Air Support, Bomber Protection, Air Superiority, even Reconnaissance, Charles would take anything, anything at all to turn his unit into something more respectful then a pile of papers asking for more training supplies.

Just as Charles sighed and picked up his fountain pen again to sign off on ordering new target sheets, there was a knock on the office door. “Come in,” Norris called out, and one of the Air Traffic Controllers entered. “Hello, Trudeau. What’s going on in the world outside the papers on my desk?”

“Just the same old business sir, but Whyte and his wingman have landed, and Captain Patterson’s in the hanger.”
“Cap’m Patterson? Charles never knew how he should act around the Captain. Should he treat Patterson as a superior, or an equal? Norris was a Flight Lieutenant ever since his time in the RAF‘s Eagle Squadron after all, and F/L was equal to Captain, but then again Delta Flight was in Patterson overall command. Plus Charles was a relatively new officer, while Patterson is a veteran, leading his men to victory on numerous occasions. Which was a good thing, it made it easier to respect the man even if their ranks were the same.

“Well Trudeau,” Charles said as he pushed himself away from the desk and stood up, “I guess I’ll go see why the old man’s here, and you can go back to watching the sky.” The young officer nodded and returned to the hall as Charles slipped on his jacket and cap. In the few seconds it took the Flight Lieutenant to button his uniform and smarten himself up, Trudeau had already disappeared back to his post by the time Charles left his room. Quickly, he walked down the hallway towards the door to the hanger.

Norris entered the hanger right where Capt. Patterson, his aide, and Flight Sergeant Nathan Whyte were standing together, and he raised his arm in a crisp salute for the Captain, and left it there as he addressed the three men.
“Captain Patterson, Sergeant, Flight Sergeant.”

[MAJ Patterson]

Controlling the aforementioned smile, the Captain snapped a salute back at the Flight Sergeant but as he lowered his hand he stopped around waist level for a hand shake, a less formal, but more personal gesture. "Whyte, it's good to see you again, glad to see you are keeping fresh in the skies instead of letting the stagnation creep in on you. Good man. How's that WarHawk working out for you?" with a firm shake Patterson looked about momentarily. "You're Flight Lieutenant...is he around?" Patterson asked with a curious look on his face.

The fact of the matter was, there was an intended reason for the visit, but one that none were aware of so far except Patterson, this would soon change. He needed to speak with Charles promptly as there was a briefing he needed to attend, it seemed there was an endless supply of briefings now-a-days, but few that he actually had interest in. This would be one of those few, well he hoped it would be anyway.

Withing a few seconds Flight Lieutenant Norris stepped out of his hole in the wall, his ears must have been burning as he approached the small group of men. He too popped a proper salute and Patterson returned the respectful motion and then stepped away to rest his briefcase on a nearby table. Looking over his shoulder "Gentlemen, if you would be so kind." he said softly as he turned back to his briefcase to pull out a pair of folders, marked as classified and bound heavily to avoid loss of loose paperwork. Then he pulled a third file, larger than possibly the other two combined, this was his, the other two "Whyte, Flight Lieutenant, these are yours, they are to be kept in the most delicate of care and the utmost security, loss of any of the contents of these documents will not only result in Court-Marshall, but I'm rather confident when I say that the men that gave them to me..." he paused as he looked at each of them separately dead square in the eyes, this was indeed a serious matter. ..."well they find people, they are good at their job, they also clean up...'messes'...if you will, they make things UNhappen, let's try to keep them off our backs shall we?" it was entirely rhetorical in nature and the uneasy smirk he flashed for a moment should have gotten the message across loud and clear.

With a heavy clearing of his throat Giles turned and walked off toward the main hangar door, operating the control panel the doors slowly closed, then Giles walked over and locked the front entrance. All the while Patterson stood firmly and quietly in place, any questions asked at this time would be addressed when they were securely locked in the hangar for the time being. Patterson still rested most of his weight onto his right hand which was firmly mounted on the stack of three folders. Inside were maps, operations orders, avenues of approach, contingency plans, the whole works. This was going to be done, it was going to be done right...and it was never to have happened.

One of those things no one sitting comfortably at home wanted to know of, were happy they never did, were glad it was done, and sat blissfully in their ignorance.

"Gentlemen...this..." again with the pause and the possibly intimidating look...

"...is Operation Griffin."

[Nathan Whyte]

OOC: Thanks for a lot to go on, JT

Nathan let his arm drop half a moment behind Patterson's and take the Officer's in a firm shake, nodding at the comment of a lot of flying. "The Warhawk sir? It's quite good. I would have been flying it just now, only the landing gear is it bit sticky so the engineers are sorting that out."

"Norris? I think he's sorting out some paper work in his..." He turned to indicate, but the Officer was already striding across the hangar. Whyte nodded at his superior and acknowldeged him with a "sir." Patterson took control of the conversation as the small group of men moved over to a table. It was quite a large one, covered in a selection of tools, maps, a few briefings from the training mission and some half-empty coffee mugs. With a low thunk, the briefcase was set down and he could see Patterson fiddling with it, assumably inputting the correct combination before a trio of folders were pulled out.

With a small cough, Giles turned and ushered out the Airman, people Whyte still often called Aircraftmen without thinking, and closed the doors slowly. An uncomfortable silence was held, apart from the whirring of motors and click of boots. After what felt like an eternity, the Captain mentioned the name of the operation, and Nathan took the liberty of twisting the folder around that had his rank and surname printed on it in the same type there always was everywhere in the military. He didn't open it, though, he waited for the command.

[Charles Norris]

The moment, "Gentlemen, if you would be so kind" left Captain Patterson’s lips Charles knew something special was going on. And it was obvious in the way he took out the secured classified documents that these papers were not just paperwork. The warning he gave as he handed the two flyboys their own personal folders; ‘the utmost security,’ ‘not only result in Court-Marshall,’ 'messes,' and then ‘unhappen,’ it caused a whole mess of unpleasant things and people to string to Charles’ mind. Whatever was beneath the tightly wrapped bundle of string and paper, was important. It must be dangerous. Whatever secrets or plans or intelligence it contained will probably put people’s lives on the line. From what Capt. Patterson said, men might have already died for it. More men might still lose their lives for it. Hopefully none of them were in the hanger.

F/L Norris was staring at his name on the folder so intently that he hadn’t noticed when Patterson’s aide started to close the hanger doors. Then he saw that all the mechanics and airmen etc had disappeared. This was that important. Apparently so important that no one else could know about it.

The silence while Patterson waited for Giles to return from securing the area was unnerving. It was like the calm before the storm for Charles. Like the clear airspace, right before you fly near a German city, where you know there will be flak, and German fighters patrolling. Likewise, the Flight Lieutenant knew something dangerous was about to collide with Whyte and himself, and the continuing silence only kept feeding Norris’s brain with theories. Frontline testing of some new aircraft or weapon? A suicide run, like flying the paratroopers to drop on Berlin? Maybe something simple, like spearheading the next great invasion of the war. But whatever it was, it certainly wasn’t a milk run.

Finally, Patterson spoke, "Gentlemen...this..." and again with the pausing, "...is Operation Griffin." Griffin? The mythical half lion, half eagle? Charles waited for Patterson to explain, but he paused again, probably waiting for questions. But Charles Norris was a man of action, not questions.

And finally, it seemed like he found the action he was looking for.

[MAJ Patterson]

Patterson slid the folders over toward their new owners. This was where it all would start, right here on this table, in this hangar, this is where they hopefully would turn a small tide in the war, start a ripple was a closer term. He only hoped that rippled could travel far enough to cause a larger effect over the entire lines. "Flip through these as you so choose, but make sure that it is always in a secure location, and preferably alone, no distractions. You will also notice a few set of maps and aerial photos of locations, they are useless alone, there is also a large set of overlays, each map has several of them each, again, the overlays alone are useless." he cleared his throat before continuing on, it would seem like a large bit of information right off the bat, but he had many things to tell them, then he would answer questions, and explain things in greater detail, if he tried to go piece by piece right now he would be overloaded with questions.

"But together they are indeed a powerful tool, mainly I just need you, and by you I mean the two of you and that's it, to study these maps, run scenarios with your men that mimic these terrain types, find these locations on the larger maps I'm sure you have stored away somewhere and calculate fuel consumption with different payload types." he knew he would probably get a few questions about the 'scenarios' he mentioned, more based on what types than anything else. Whether they asked or not didn't matter too much, if they failed to do so he would tell them, well he would give them a long list of the types anyway.

He glanced around the hangar for a moment, Giles was standing in the distance waiting for further instructions from the Captain. "Sergeant see if you can locate a projector, we have slides that need to be discussed." with that Giles nodded and stepped off toward the offices in the hangar. "Gentleman, this will not be the last meeting on this matter, and unfortunately they cannot last long, with so few people in on the ground work of this operation, you will need to keep your actions on it swift and clear, making sure there is no need for anyone else to ask questions. I will inform you when there are others that you may speak with on this matter, but do not. I repeat DO NOT take a letter or verbal statement on this matter at face value from anyone other than myself, not even my close friend Giles here. If anyone approaches you about it then you are to find me immediately, no one else. Please feel free to ask any questions until we are able to review the slides."

[Nathan Whyte]

OOC: My bad, dropped the ball here.


Nathan carefully opened the top of the folder, looking at the various papers neatly seperated by colour-coded dividers. On the lip of each of them, he could see a hand-written title. "Briefing, maps, intel." Basic stuff for a mission briefing, but he had that ominous feeling that this was anything but a regular, basic mission.

He flicked over to the maps section, anxious to see what was happening. The various overlays were neatly aligned so he could see a full map, but he knew peeling back just one of them would cause a massive change to terrain. It seemed a relatively good position for an air attack. Mountains on one side, so they could quickly get behind them for cover from AAA, sea on another side so they could line up for a good attack run. The amount of aerial defenses littering the map worried him slightly, but there was bound to be a flaw in them. There always was. And if there wasn't, a few bombs usually made one.

He took a quick glance at the photographs. Seemed basic enough stuff on the ground, 88s, Flakvierlings, lots of fun, but the concentration could provide a problem. He smirked at one photo - these Germans appeared to have a sense of humour. A series of artillery had been arranged in the shape of a massive phallus.

"Sergeant see if you can locate a projector, we have slides that need to be discussed..." Once Patterson finished the sentance, Nathan jerked a thumb towards an office door. "There's one in there, Sergeant. On a trolley just behind the door." The Sergeant turned to go and try and find it.

"No questions here, sir. Hell of a lot of defence on this place by the looks of things, so I take it we're going to be hitting something big, softening it up so some of your armour can go in and secure it. We may need to see about getting a chit in for another fighter-bomber or two." He stopped talking, letting out one of his 'Hmms' he so often did when deep in thought. Depending on how much time they had until they began, that may or may not be a possibility. New planes needed testing, pilots needed to get used to the machines and become a part of the team. He didn't exactly relish the idea of keeping the rest of the guys in the dark, but he knew it was neccesary, and that when possible they'd know what was happening.

[Charles Norris]

OCC: Haven’t we all

The Flight Lieutenant continued to listen to Patterson’s instructions on the maps as he picked up his folder and skimmed through the sections. He would have to read though all of it later, but for now Norris focused on the maps and overlays and pulled out the first ones to see what the Captain was talking about. If it was the correct overlay for this map, they were an aerial of a coastline dotted with possibly hundreds of anti-air guns. There seemed to be an oblong pattern for the position of a few of the guns, but whatever it was meant to be used for, Charles didn’t understand.

"There's one in there, Sergeant. On a trolley just behind the door."
Flight Sergeant Whyte told Patterson’s Sergeant, and Charles casually nodded while he continued to examine the maps, trying to see it in 3D, looking for the best way in and out. He would have to know more about the mission and also look at each map in great detail to make an official strategy, but at the moment the best idea he had was to sneak in through the mountain, do what they have to do, then get the hell out of there as fast as possible through the sea. But then again, Norris would have to make sure he understood everything about ‘Griffin’ before making any serious plans.

Charles continued listening about how secret everything had to be until Patterson finished up, “If anyone approaches you about it then you are to find me immediately, no one else. Please feel free to ask any questions until we are able to review the slides."

“I understand Captain, I will mention Griffin only when you are present. And once we are finished here I will place this folder in a safe place, until I am prepared to look through it privately, sir.” Norris thought, but did not mention the small safe he had in his room. It was currently used to hold a few mostly unimportant papers and his sidearm, whenever he wasn’t wearing it.

"No questions here, sir. Hell of a lot of defence on this place by the looks of things, so I take it we're going to be hitting something big, softening it up so some of your armour can go in and secure it. We may need to see about getting a chit in for another fighter-bomber or two."

Although Nathan did not have a question, his comment did give Norris one, “What Flight Sergeant Whyte said brought up a question, sir. That does look like more then average amount of Triple A. Are you able to tell what the area is used for? Is there a factory or refinery that we have to take out. Because if our target are buildings, I have to disagree with the Flight Sergeant. The lufltwaffe has almost been completely destroyed, the lack of sorties for my spits can attest to that. So there is no reason for any more fighters. What we need are bombers. Sometime maneuverable, accurate, strong, and with a good armament. You may have seen my request forms, sir, I‘ve been researching into trying to get another plane for the unit. And I‘ve heard good things about the Martin Baltimore.”

[MAJ Patterson]

OOC: Indeed we all have

IC: Patterson listened on as they began to ask about the target and more equipment to pull of such hits, he only smiled, they had been trained well, very well, but this was just a bit too far outside the box to ponder on with such short notice. He heard Giles fumbling around in the side room, there was a muffled thud as what sounded to be a large stack of papers and books fell, but nothing to bother with at the moment. "Don't get me wrong here, I like where you guys are going with this, I really really do, that is the kind of stuff I would expect from top rated pilots like yourselves. But the AA in the area will be of no concern...it's the infantry." Expecting a pair of extremely odd looks from such a remark he gave them a moment to get nice on confused on his statement so he looked back to Giles. "Any luck Sergeant?"

He started again after turning back to them "What I mean is the roads, that's what you need to be worrying about. And as for new bombers or fighter bombers, ain't happenin. And Norris just so you know I've approved all of your requests, in fact I approve every single request for equipment that comes through my office, but I don't have the final say on the matter, it has to go through my superiors and it seems they think we are one of the best outfitted units in this entire war, that's half the reason they want us to handle this operation, the other half is not only are we the best equipped, we also have the most experience." He paused to swallow before he choked himself, grabbed an overlay and pulled it on top of the map. "See what I mean? That arrow right there represents your approach, that dotted line behind it, well that is another aircraft, may look a bit too close, but only one of them will be landing, and it doesn't have a single weapon on it, doesn't have an engine either for that matter." He was hoping the next looks that would be smeared across there faces would be ones that resembled hearing the answer to a seemingly impossible riddle, followed by one of slight shock as these were going to be cutting edge tactics and they got to be the guinea pigs.

[Nathan Whyte]

Nathan winced slightly as he heard a crashing in the office, soom poor guy would have to sort that out later. Captain Patterson seemed to be holding his cards close to his chest. "But the AA in the area will be of no concern...it's the infantry." Nathan satisfied the Officer with a slightly perplexed look, but didn't say anything - doubtless it would be revealed soon. Perhaps these Germans were running around with AAA rifles now?

Now he was talking about the roads. Nathan's mouth formed a loose 'o'. Surely the Captain didn't expect them to come charging in, land on the roads and settle down for a spot of tea? A bit of flattery was coming now, before one of the overlays was brought out, with a series of lines, indicating their approach. It was a good line, he wouldn't mind taking that. "only one of them will be landing, and it doesn't have a single weapon on it, doesn't have an engine either for that matter."

Nathan frowned here, the Captain must have lost mind at this moment, he seemed to be sugesting a crazy technique.. "So, let me try an understand this. We're going to fly in towards this here town, stay flat and level for a few clicks, then drop a glider, whilst underfire from God-knows-what? And am I right in assuming, while this is happening you will be on the ground trying to smash the Germans in to submission?" He was quite sceptical, because of one tiny factor. This whole landing would depend on the wind. If it was going in the opposite direction, the whole landing would need to be reversed, which could cause a monumental screw up with a glider. And those gliders weren't too strong, he wouldn't like to be in one under small-arms fire.

[Charles Norris]

OCC: I win

“But the AA in the area will be of no concern...it's the infantry." Said the army commander, of course he would be more worried about the infantry then the anti-air batteries. But Charles knew that it was not the time to start a flyboy vs. grunt argument. He would look into it first, examine the photos and intel reports more closely before raising a complaint. Those AA guns might even be dummy props that posed no threat whatsoever, Chuck had heard about the Germans using them before. It would explain their particular placement.

For a moment, the Flight Lieutenant’s calm gaze shifted to Patterson’s Sgt as he returned from his rampage through the office, and Norris wondered what files or notes he would have to reorganize again. And he had to nod solemnly to his superior’s answer about the bombers. It was what he expected, Dog Company’s area of operations was apparently defended by a single Luftwaffe pilot, who spent most of his time eating sour kraut, beating women, making babies cry, and whatever else Germans did on their spare time. And any land skirmish was either ruled by the Americans, or so small that close air support would be impossible. Although Chuck did have to give a quizzical look to Patterson’s mention that they were ‘one of the best outfitted units’. Maybe his infantry force, Norris’s was mostly still using old spitfires. But, maybe whatever this is will help them get better gear. Whatever it is.

When Patterson started to describe the approach for the mission, Chuck, and it seemed Nathan as well, was completely confused. His pilots weren’t barnstormers. They were fighter pilots, doing experimental aerobatics for no obvious tactical gain wasn’t wha….
Then mention of one of the planes being engineless hit Charles and everything else fell into place and it made sense.

”So we are sending in a glider? I don‘t think we have anyone with many hours in one of those. We are going to have to start some new training. The Captain asked, starting to understand. As did Fl/Sgt. Whyte, who gave his own theory of what Patterson was explaining to them. It was all starting to make sense, but ‘Why’ was still a question in Chuck’s head.

[PuNk! ™]

The following CP has been issued to all members of this thread; the new CP rules apply (2CP a post).

Patterson, Whyte and Norris: 8CP each!
~Danny