New Heavens Read Online Free Page B
Author: Boris Senior
gets worse with every minute that passes, there is the virtual impossibility of being pulled out of the sea while under fire from the nearby German shore batteries.
As if someone has read my thoughts, I see vessels making for me at high speed, their wake churning the water into white foam. It must be the German E-boats we know are in the bay. My mind is in turmoil. Am I being left by our side to die in the cold or to become a prisoner of war?
I know my comradesâ fuel is running low for they turn southward and become smaller and smaller, tiny specks inthe sky. Now I know that I am abandoned, and in utter desperation I prepare myself for the end in the freezing sea or in a Nazi prison camp. Moments later, I am relieved to make out six Spitfires taking over and circling high above me, affirming that I have not been left to die on my own.
When I hear the firing of machine guns above me, I realize there is no way that Jerry will be able to come out and capture me, for the circling Spitfires are diving down low toward the E-boats near the shore, firing their machine guns and cannons. When the Spits get to the bottom of their dives just above me, I realize how close the Germans are from the deafening staccato of the exploding shells from the strafing.
In no time, the boats turn and retreat at high speed to the coast, zig-zagging as they try to escape the firing Spitfires. Though the attacking Spits have dashed my hopes of being pulled out by Jerry, I am hopeful now that my side may have some plan to get me out of this predicament before I succumb. Surely the attack of the Spits on the E-boats indicates that there may be some such attempt in the offing.
The time passes. My body is slowly becoming paralyzed from the cold, and I lose hope. I can see buildings and the campanile of St. Marks and estimate I am less than 800 meters from German-occupied Venice, right under the guns of those I have just bombed.
The numbness spreads to my legs and loins and to my arms. I see my mother in a summer dress in the garden in far-off South Africa. Memories come and go, and strangely while my body is freezing, I imagine I am back in the safe cocoon of my home and environment, in the familiar surroundingsof my youth with my family beside me. Then when I realize where I am and what is ahead of me in this icy sea, I groan. I am lost, helpless, unable to do anything to free myself from the agony of this process leading to my death. There is no way out, for I cannot move my arms or legs enough even to try to propel my body to the land that is so close.
Gradually, I become still and I know I am freezing to death. My past races through my mind, some parts in clear outline, others in murky silhouette as life begins to drift away. My home, my life fades slowly away and becomes a hazy dream world.
CATALINA
By now I have been in the water for two hours, my sodden flying kit weighing me down. Yet, my life jacket keeps me afloat with my head just above water. I contemplate the irony of this slow, painful death next to the peacetime playground of the rich. I can still make out the campanile of St. Marco behind the Lido.
Apart from the noise of the bombing and the anti-aircraft guns, there is no sign of life. I am alone. My flying jacket and uniform are stained by the dye from the life jacket. I know I am getting weaker. My whole body starts to shake and shiver and my teeth chatter uncontrollably.
Suddenly, I see and hear high in the sky a large white aircraft approaching. I do not know whether it is coming for me. I donât even know how many Allied aircraft have been shot down and may have crashed into the water. Iwatch as the big white bird circles slowly and lands on the water. I see the wake of the big plane and the foam from its hull as it taxies toward me. Until it comes near, I am not sure that it is for me. As they come closer, I know that they have come for me. A sob escapes me.
But now, all hell breaks loose. The air fills with the
As if someone has read my thoughts, I see vessels making for me at high speed, their wake churning the water into white foam. It must be the German E-boats we know are in the bay. My mind is in turmoil. Am I being left by our side to die in the cold or to become a prisoner of war?
I know my comradesâ fuel is running low for they turn southward and become smaller and smaller, tiny specks inthe sky. Now I know that I am abandoned, and in utter desperation I prepare myself for the end in the freezing sea or in a Nazi prison camp. Moments later, I am relieved to make out six Spitfires taking over and circling high above me, affirming that I have not been left to die on my own.
When I hear the firing of machine guns above me, I realize there is no way that Jerry will be able to come out and capture me, for the circling Spitfires are diving down low toward the E-boats near the shore, firing their machine guns and cannons. When the Spits get to the bottom of their dives just above me, I realize how close the Germans are from the deafening staccato of the exploding shells from the strafing.
In no time, the boats turn and retreat at high speed to the coast, zig-zagging as they try to escape the firing Spitfires. Though the attacking Spits have dashed my hopes of being pulled out by Jerry, I am hopeful now that my side may have some plan to get me out of this predicament before I succumb. Surely the attack of the Spits on the E-boats indicates that there may be some such attempt in the offing.
The time passes. My body is slowly becoming paralyzed from the cold, and I lose hope. I can see buildings and the campanile of St. Marks and estimate I am less than 800 meters from German-occupied Venice, right under the guns of those I have just bombed.
The numbness spreads to my legs and loins and to my arms. I see my mother in a summer dress in the garden in far-off South Africa. Memories come and go, and strangely while my body is freezing, I imagine I am back in the safe cocoon of my home and environment, in the familiar surroundingsof my youth with my family beside me. Then when I realize where I am and what is ahead of me in this icy sea, I groan. I am lost, helpless, unable to do anything to free myself from the agony of this process leading to my death. There is no way out, for I cannot move my arms or legs enough even to try to propel my body to the land that is so close.
Gradually, I become still and I know I am freezing to death. My past races through my mind, some parts in clear outline, others in murky silhouette as life begins to drift away. My home, my life fades slowly away and becomes a hazy dream world.
CATALINA
By now I have been in the water for two hours, my sodden flying kit weighing me down. Yet, my life jacket keeps me afloat with my head just above water. I contemplate the irony of this slow, painful death next to the peacetime playground of the rich. I can still make out the campanile of St. Marco behind the Lido.
Apart from the noise of the bombing and the anti-aircraft guns, there is no sign of life. I am alone. My flying jacket and uniform are stained by the dye from the life jacket. I know I am getting weaker. My whole body starts to shake and shiver and my teeth chatter uncontrollably.
Suddenly, I see and hear high in the sky a large white aircraft approaching. I do not know whether it is coming for me. I donât even know how many Allied aircraft have been shot down and may have crashed into the water. Iwatch as the big white bird circles slowly and lands on the water. I see the wake of the big plane and the foam from its hull as it taxies toward me. Until it comes near, I am not sure that it is for me. As they come closer, I know that they have come for me. A sob escapes me.
But now, all hell breaks loose. The air fills with the
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