03 - Lady Qormi

03 LADY QORMI [monday 06 January 1941]:: Lady=17 The early morning Monday sky was full of stars, even through the sea level haze, as Lady quietly left the Nissan hut. Her wet cheeks were glistening in the starlight. She wondered why these people needed so much sleep. Walking higher and higher up a path from Devil's Tower Road, she was beginning to see a glimmering far far off to the East. She tried to concentrate on the contacts she needed to make today, on the trip yesterday, on the quiet Scottish kid she had flown down with – on anything to keep her mind from her mother's weeping. In times of stress she could feel her mother's call to come home. In calmer times she could block it out, but tonight she was directly feeling her mother's misery. It set Lady to weeping so much that her pillow had become wet beyond bearing. Please do not wail for me, my mother. I am still your youngest child and someday I shall come back to you. I love you dearly but I cannot stand to feel your weeping. Gradually the misery within her subsided and Lady watched the far off faint Eastern glimmerings at the edge of the sea turn to light. She thought that she might meditate up here, high on the side of the Jabel, but by now she was too distant from EYW, her God. There were memories of having once been closer, but she could no longer actually feel closeness. This saddened her even more, for she knew her own self was in disrepair. She was quite clear about it. The cause of her distance from EYW and her family was of her own making. It had begun when she made the conscious decision to stay behind. Family, it seems, is important in maintaining one's closeness to God. That she has learned. Over and over she played the scene of her great act of rebellion, and her reasons for it – a beautiful Italian boy (well, Italian mother with an English father). She called him a boy, because as with most professional pilots the flying brings out the boy in a man. She wondered if that were true of female pilots as well. For Pierino though, as long as he flew, he would never grow up. The fact that he was seven years her senior made little real difference. Even at fourteen she had been older than he was, in so many ways. But oh, he was so beautiful; and good natured. With his quick humor he laughed at so many things the Maltese held sacred. He also made jokes of his own Church, the Catholic Church, and somehow that did not sit well with her. Lady had asked him about making jokes of his Church, but his curious answer had something to do with: Of course his mother was Catholic, but his father did not believe in Church. Pierino never did give her a straight answer. [Fall 1937] :: Lady=14 When they had first met in a coffee shop in Qormi in 1937 he had asked if she were not Catholic, and she had been even more evasive than he had been over religious beliefs. He would never have understood her situation, and in truth he did not seem to really care what she believed. They both were too caught up 17750492.odt

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in each other's beauty. How foolish that had all seemed – now that she was 17 years old. Pierino had had arrived at Hal Far Airfield on Malta with a small contingent of the No38 Bomber Squadron. He said it was all very hush hush, but he seemed to have no qualms about telling Lady anything she asked. His story was that they had brought down three Hadley Page Heyford bombers to practice trials in long range flights over the Mediterranean in case of war. When Lady saw the bombers, she said they looked awfully antique and far too frail – not at all sturdy enough for bombing. Pierino laughingly chided her for becoming the bomber specialist; but he had to admit that they were using these planes because they had been phased out and were no longer needed. In the company of Pierino she was allowed to inspect the bombers at Hal Far Field, to look them over in detail. She even climbed in and sat in the pilot's cockpit. She could not understand why she was suddenly so fascinated over this old machine, but for her the antique bombers represented the portal to a fairytale world which could not be accessed any other way. In fact, that was a very apt intuition. Lady met Pierino several times in the following days and finally took him home to Qormi to meet her parents. They were not thrilled by Pierino's attentions to their young daughter, but after speaking with him for an hour over tea, they decided that he was harmless enough. Perhaps they could see how, already, Lady was dominating him and thus they were not worried about her falling under his spell. In any event, they were thinking, we will be leaving this place shortly. As she stood on the side of the Rock, Lady was thinking perhaps her parents should have been more worried about her intentions. Pierino often spoke to her of the problems of navigation and maintenance in long ranged flying. Lady could not get enough of it. She began badgering the young airman to let her fly with him. Absolutely not, he said. She kept at it. He admitted that he would not mind, but the squadron would not let him take her up. That sort of thing was never allowed. It was strictly forbidden. Lady wanted it even more. Finally, she decided to lure him into acquiescence by physically seducing him. The seduction itself was no problem, but getting Pierino to agree to her terms was not easy. However, Lady offered herself only on the proviso of being able to fly in the Heyford. Of course, Pierino could not hold out for long, and soon they were scheming together over how he might fly out and land at a grass strip in Safi, just east of Zurreq, to pick her up. But to do it Pierino had to bribe his flight enginer to go along with the scheme. Lady asked, quite candidly, if it would help were she to sleep with the flight engineer? This made Pierino so mad he said he was calling the whole scheme off. But Lady knew how to bring him back on board. She also knew not to mention sleeping with someone else again, so they set about planning how to bring the F.E. in on the scheme. Actually, the F.E, was delighted with the prospects. He was fascinated by Lady and did not want payment for participating. The first time they rendezvoused at Safi, Pierino had scheduled a test flight from Hal Far, whereupon he and the F. E. flew off over lunch when few people would be around. They landed at Safi, took Lady aboard and strapped her into the second pilot's seat. It was an open cockpit and the exhilaration of that first flight has never been equaled. That first day Pierino taught her the feel of the control yoke, and she was banking quite well by the time they had to return before it got dark. By the time she was taking her third illicit ride, she had conquered the controls and was taking off from the short grass strip. On the fifth and last trip, she learned to land and they did touch and goes all afternoon. Pierino was as infatuated with her natural talent for flying as he was with her natural beauty. He could not get enough of her and would have carried on like this forever. But the flight engineer, who was necessary to the scheme, was being transferred. And indeed, before long they learned that the operation at Malta was to be shut down and the whole contingent would be disbanded. Pierino learned this a couple of 17750492.odt

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weeks in advance because their operation had been under control of MI5. Pierino, being the primary pilot of the small experiment, knew the officer fronting for MI5 pretty well, and in fact Pierino was considering induction into the secret service himself. He mentioned to the MI5 officer how well Lady could fly a bomber and that she would be an asset for MI5 as things 'hotted' up in the Mediterranean. A meeting between the three of them was arranged in Qormi one evening and the secret service officer had a nice 'get to know you' chat with Lady. At that time neither of the two men told Lady about the purpose of the meeting. She thought Edward (as he was introduced), was simply one of Pierino's officers; that he seemed a bit uptight but otherwise was pleasant, and that was the end of it. After the Heyford contingent was shipped out and Pierino had flown off for the last time, Lady was feeling very morose – the person left behind is the one who suffers pangs of loneliness while the others are off doing their thing. At first she thought she was missing Pierino, but soon she realized she was missing the flying. So, when Edward approached her the week after the disbandment and proposed that she join the service, Lady was as delighted as she was surprised. Lady thought it over while they spoke and could not believe she would turn the offer down. But she showed amazing maturity by declining, saying she was not old enough to handle such situations. Edward was surprised and asked: Well, how old are you? Without hesitation Lady replied: Twenty. Oh, Edward said. He thought she was closer to twenty five. But, he continued, twenty is old enough for the service. So, if she should change her mind, please send him a wire at an address he left with her. Lady did think about it, quite a lot. She was horribly bored now. No school and no prospects. It occurred to her one day that she might just prepare a few documents in order to support her declaration of age. She took the family's Orthodox Bible of recorded births and carefully, using a razor, flicked the ink from the '23' on her birth year. It was so cleverly done she could not tell that this fine quality paper had been tampered with. After several practice attempts on the side, she felt confident in copying the original florid script and wrote in a '17'. She was now officially a twenty year old – as long as no one checked with the Church in Thessaloniki, where she had been baptized. It remained to bring the name into agreement with her Qormi school records. That was accomplished with equal craftsmanship. And if anyone were to seek out her Church records in Thessaloniki, they would simply fail to find the Qormis. She then took the family Bible to the Governor's Palace, to the Department of Records and Archives, and had them make a photostat of her revised page. She showed them her school records to verify that she was whom she claimed to be, and they dutifully stamped the new white-on-black copy with the official information that Lady Qormi had appeared before them that day and had received this photostat. Of course, their stamp in no way testified to the validity of the information. It simply confirmed that the clerks in the records office had dutifully noted that this was indeed the person who appeared before them and who received this copy. It also revealed nothing of the fact that her name, Lady Qormi, was itself fictitious. In truth, she had no name. It (the name) came about when she started school in Malta ten years ago. Her mother had taken her to be enrolled after they had arrived. When the school secretary said: And what is your name, young lady? That young lady simply repeated the last term. The secretary laughingly said: Your name is 'Lady'? And are you royalty as well? she quipped. No, mam. Lady replied: That is just my name. Do you have a last name? the secretary wanted to know. All Lady could think of was the name of their 17750492.odt

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new city, so she said, Qormi. This really surprised the secretary. So, you are one of the Qormi family? I thought they had all died many many years ago? Without hesitation Lady said, No, my family is from Thessaloniki. They have Qormis there as well. Hmm, the secretary nodded and stopped asking questions, but finished the necessary papers for Lady's matriculation. Meanwhile, Lady's mother had stood through all of this saying very little. And that should seem quite surprising to anyone overhearing this conversation, who was also aware that the names were compositions of the moment. Yet it was the most natural thing for 'Mrs. Qormi' to go along with the charade, quietly. They had a whole trail of various names tossed off behind them. They had no idea how many names they had composed on the spot in the years they had been in the Mediterranean. And furthermore, they were totally indifferent to the number or to the little problems which the trail may have created. Very soon they should be out of range of these bureaucracies. What makes all this so confusing to our officious Western minds arises from the simple truth that Lady's family comes from a culture which really does not assign names. Their belief is that names are possessives in and of themselves. If anyone were to know your name, they would then possess a portion of your self. To avoid splitting up one's self in this manner they simply avoid the nominal habits of other cultures. Instead, for the sake of convenience, each person is referenced by their work, or their interests, or some outstanding trait. It is very much the way American Indians name their fellows, but for Lady's people, that reference is never considered to be an actual name. The urgency Lady felt in preparing her false credentials was well founded. Two days later her father told her that they would be going home very shortly. Lady's wide eyes and open mouth asked the question whe was forming, but her father also read it in her mind, and said that his work here was finished. That's all there is. No reason stands in the way of their return and now Lady could meet her grandparents, uncles, aunts and cousins for the first time. Finally, his only child could be introduced to the very important institution of their neighborhood, the korvax. He might also have said that he and her mother were just a bit concerned that she was becoming too involved, not only with Pierino, but with the ways of this World. They felt it was time that she become enmeshed in her own natural culture. She needed the greater security which would be provided by its customs and teachings. Of course, Lady had heard of this 'home' and the place they described as the mother city. But all she had really known was the world of the Mediterranean: Greece, North Africa, Italy and Malta. That other life in the mother city was not only completely foreign to her, it was now made to seem odious. No doubt events of the past few weeks here in Malta laid a stronger than normal claim on Lady's sense of proportions, on her sense of values. Tales of some far off land could not stand the test of the exciting reality of these past few weeks. Even though the person of her attachment to Malta had been taken away, Lady was, nevertheless, greatly troubled at this news of their scheduled leave taking. That night, as her parents discussed and prepared for departure, Lady left them and went into the pleasant air of the Fall evening. She wandered to the coffee shop where she had met Pierino. After sniffling in self pity over a cup of Arab coffee, she found herself on the way to the grass field at Safi. Standing there in the dark she could still smell that strange odor of the burned oil and gas mixture pouring from the Hadley's exhaust stacks. Suddenly, this place settled her mind in making her decision. That done, she felt better and went home and to sleep. The next morning she heard the rustle of her parents downstairs, but she went back to sleep. About midmorning her mother woke her. It was time to leave. Lady said that she had not packed. That did not 17750492.odt

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matter, her mother said. they could only take what they could carry in their arms. For her father it was his large case of notes. For her mother, Lady saw, it was a covered box of small mementos. Since that was the case, Lady said she would only take the clothes on her back. Very well, her father said. He took a small Greek Orthodox icon of Saint George in hands, faced to the East, and offered a prayer for the three of them. He asked for blessings upon the loved ones they were leaving behind and asked the intercession of Saint George in preparing their safe journey home. Lady assumed he prayed to Saint George because he was Patron of the small Greek Orthodox Church which they often attended, out on the peninsula in Valletta. Lady was wondering what was to follow, since her father showed no sign of actually walking out of the house to catch a train or a boat. She got the distinct impression that they were to 'fly' from this very spot. Then she discovered the full meaning behind such a curious impression. Her father took a book from a wooden case recently placed upon the table. He opened it and looked at it for some time. Then he handed it to her mother, who held it open facing away from herself but toward her father. Lady was standing behind her mother so she could not see what was in the book. Again, he stood there peering into the book as it was held open to him, and then he reached out with his right hand, holding his large case by its handle with his left hand. He touched the book. Lady was staring at her father's face, and she saw a moment of fear – then he disappeared. He utterly disappeared! In all the surrealistic events of the past weeks, this was the absolutely the most bizarre. Where had he gone? Lady was staring speechless in utter amazement. Then after a bit her mother turned to Lady. She knew that Lady would be distraught, perhaps horrified, for they had never felt it would be wise to reveal all this to Lady, tied up as she was in the daily events of Malta – in the events of this World. I know, 'Mrs. Qormi' said: I know quite well how surprised you are. All I can say at the moment is that this is the way we shall travel home. Your father has preceded us, and we shall see him in a moment. Do not be afraid. We shall explain all this and the way of our Globe – the way of your new World, yet of the Globe which has always been your home as well – once we have arrived. Not wanting to give Lady a chance to press with more questions she knew that were welling up at this moment, her mother said: Here. Please take the book and hold it as I did for your father. After I leave it is most important that you place the book in your left hand, not on the table, and touch this page with your right. Forcing Lady to take the book in her two hands, her mother took up her box of mementos, and as she looked straight into Lady's eyes, she touched the book with her free right hand. Lady thought that just as she was touching the page, a flash of recognition blazed across her mother's face. In fact, Lady thought surely she was trying to stop her hand from touching the page, but it was too late. Yes, Lady felt certain that at that last instant her mother had read her daughter's decision to stay behind. Lady carefully turned the book around and gazed into a very weird holographic image of mothercity. It was actually moving. The image had such an hypnotic effect that she felt as though she were falling into it. NO! She slammed the book shut and replaced it into its wooden box and that upon the mantle. And with that very positive and powerful act, she was now forced to ponder just what she should do next. She had very little money. Not nearly enough for train fare, even if she had a destination in mind, or a purpose. Taking a small card from her things upstairs and all the Malta pounds she could find, Lady decided upon a 17750492.odt

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good cup of Arab coffee. Making her way to the coffee house, she sat down at the table she and Pierino normally took up, and ordered a ham sandwich and a coffee. That was very satisfying. Then she went to the post office, checked for any mail to her parents, and then sent a wire to Edward. She said she should like to discuss his proposition as soon as possible. She had little time, she told him, before she must make a decision. The Fall days were so beautiful, even though the Malta trees did not turn in the way the Germans described their trees. Lady walked Eastward for about a mile to Hamrun, and continued in the direction of Valletta, way out on the peninsula. In another mile she was at the Botanical Gardens and then followed Trig Girolamo Cassar around the South side of Saint James Bastion to get to the Auberge of the Castile. That placed her at the foot of famous Merchant's Street. A few blocks more and she found her own Church of Saint George. Looking around as she had walked by so many Catholic Churches, Lady had been thinking that there were so many of them on Malta, and so few Orthodox Churches (although she knew that before 1054, there was no such thing a the Roman Catholic Church – all Christians were then Orthodox, so to speak) – she was wondering as she walked, why do not more of the Catholics copy the Greek's Byzantine form of worship? She had not gotten far in that question before she entered the Narthex to the small Church of Saint George. She kissed the Narthex icon and lit three tapers, two for her parents and one for Pierino. Crossing herself right to left with three fingers, she entered the tiny nave and made a full metanoia before the Altar, the Gospel and the Cross. Then she made three small metanoias before the great icon of Saint George, who was placed just left of the Mother of God, the Theotokos, on the iconostasis. Bowing down before the icon with her head upon her knees at the floor, she prayed that Saint George, who had befriended her in the past, might smile upon her now in the plight she had carved out for herself. And if he should feel so inclined, she prayed that he put in a good word for her to the Theotokos to give guidance now as never before. Above all, and unworthy as she was, she begged that he pray to the Lord to forgive her sins for she was truly already extremely sorry for the consternation she was causing her parents. If she were wrong in the course she had set, please please please guide her toward a solution -- one favored by her Father EYW. Tears were streaming over her face in this inverted position, yet, feeling the presence of her Protectors, she simply huddled there in a small ball. Time passed and we know not all that came to her during those minutes. But finally she arose, the blood rushing from her head, her eyes bloodshot and swollen, looking dizzily upon the beautiful icons all about her, above as well as to the sides. Feeling entirely strengthened now, she definitely did not feel she had carte blanch upon the path she had chosen. But then, neither had she been offered a correction to her path. Instead, she got the very powerful feeling that she had a lot to learn and the learning was far more important than any preconceived notion she might possess of what was 'right'. If she learned her lessons well, the 'right' way would become indelibly clear. Feeling greatly heartened, she realized she was hungry as a bear. Heading toward the Barracca Gardens she found a small restaurant that her father had loved. She counted out the last of her small treasure and decided to start with Couscous of beans and pasta. Then she asked for a Timpana of baked macaroni and tomatoes. She could afford only one glass of wine so for the moment she ordered a small bottle of water con gas. Then for an entree, because rabbit is cheap in Malta, she ordered Fenek browned in garlic and herbs and simmered for a long time. OH, it was so succulent! With that, the waiter was good enough to open for her a glass of Chaval Franc from the Marsovin hills. Her father used to buy this by the case. With a bit of wine left in her glass she had enough money to buy a slice of Gbejniet cheese, the sun dried sort, which is harder.

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She sat for a time, nibbling her cheese and looking across at the Grand Harbor, savoring the flavors of the first meal of her new life. After a bit, the waiter brought a cup of Greek coffee, on the house, to this beautiful young lady. What could be more perfect – except to be sharing this with her family; or Pierino. What she felt good about, after her prayers in Saint George Church, was the course she was on. She had no regrets about her decision. Rather, she was convinced that the regrets would set in only after she had made the unwise decision. Now, she would just have to stick it out with no money until Edward found her. And that he did, the very next morning. Walking back to Qormi she seemed flooded by every thought possible. They came, whistling through her head, fantasies about the future sandwiched between hard nosed questions about what lay ahead. It was only early evening when she got home, but it had been an exhausting day. She slept the sleep of pardoned youth, conscience free. With the sun just achieving full exposure in the Eastern sky, Lady was awakened by something bashing her front door. She remembered she had locked it, being alone, while almost no one locked their doors in Malta. Thank God it held up against the onslaught. But she had an idea that it was Edward. She leaned out the window and shouted, Just a minute. Washing her face and brushing her teeth, she slipped on a cotton dress and brushed her hair while skipping down the stairs. She felt like an antelope. Surely enough, it was Edward complaining about not being able to raise her from the dead. Lady smiled and said come in please. I will make some coffee. She could see that there was a bit of food left in the cool pantry and plenty of coffee and tea. She boiled measured water and poured it over a paper filter with a small pile of coffee measured into it. The whole thing was set into a vegetable strainer held over a pot. As she carefully trickled the very hot water over the coffee grounds, it dripped into a stone tea pot which Lady had placed into a heated pan of water to keep the coffee's temperature up. Edward was admiring the complexity of the operation. She found a small cream pitcher and poured it full with very heavy cream, as her mother did. They all loved the cream here – it reminded her of the flavor of French cream-fresh. She set this, with sugar and the warmed pot of coffee on the table where Edward sat. Then she poured the coffee, steaming hot, into warmed mugs, and left the sugar and cream up to personal tastes. Edward was delighted with the aroma produced by this new form of coffee making. It made the long wait at the front door worthwhile. Lady smiled broadly and said yes, she was surprised at how really good was this way of brewing coffee, compared with the awful stuff boiled up in percolators. Not bothering to answer, and without further ado, like a man running to catch a train, Edward unlocked his leather brief case and started flipping and reading through a long contract, rapidly going through its contents, reading aloud and making the occasional mark for Lady's initials. You sound very American in your for haste, Lady calmly chastised him after he had come to a pause. Edward was startled at the observation and clammed his jaws shut. He stared at her. She was right of course. This woman was going to be hell to deal with, he could tell. Remembering a certain urgency in her wire, Edward decided to try a ploy. OK, he said. If you are not interested, then I shall be on my way. With that, he took up the contract, methodically put it back into its case and began to stand. Lady said nothing. He was made quite nervous by the stare of those black eyes, unflinching as they were unsmiling. Finally, she said: Don't you want to finish your coffee before you leave? Whew! He was afraid she was going to let him walk out the door. Not willing to tempt fate further, he sat down again, but said nothing for a bit as he sipped his coffee. Finally, he said: You are right. It would be a 17750492.odt

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sin to leave this coffee. So they quietly sipped away, listening to the sounds of business carried on somewhere out in Qormi. After a while Lady stood up and walked into the kitchen again. She found some eggs and streaky bacon. She put the bacon on a hot griddle and placed a flat iron upon the bacon. Then while some thick slices of bread were broiling on the side, she sliced tomatoes. As she put the bacon on newspaper to dry, she fried eggs in the bacon grease – two strong orange yoked eggs each. Placing this fine smelling breakfast on two plates she found a jar of fig preserves and put it all on the table. I failed to ask you if you were hungry, she said to Edward. But I am, and if you are too, please help yourself. And if I am not hungry, Edward said, should I just watch you eat? He was miffed at losing control over his negotiations. I suppose so. Your choice. Please pour some more coffee for me. In spite of the his acid tone, Edward did everything Lady allowed him to do. They ate and drank more superb coffee and sat back, each thinking their own thoughts. After another pleasant bit of silence, still enjoying the lingering taste of the bacon, Lady said: I think you have explained the contract sufficiently well. One change I should make. You mentioned a salary of 60lbs per month to start and then an evaluation. I suggest you make that 200lbs per month, and if I am not worth it, you may tell me at the evaluation. Edward looked at her coldly. He was, of course, inclined to argue this astounding proposal, but she interrupted: I know you are anxious to be on your way, and I will be leaving tomorrow myself. I have an offer out of the country and it is more than 60lbs, so if I am not worth it to your people, then lets call this off now. Very well, then, he said. She was surprised that he responded so quickly. He continued: White Hall just may allow you 150lbs per month to start. We never pay field people that much, but none of them can fly bombers. Hmm, Lady thought. I will agree, if you also add to the evaluation statement: If my salary at the evaluation is not raised to 200lbs, then I shall be free to leave, no strings attached. Whew, Edward was relieved. Lady had no idea what difficult straights MI5 were in. They were being bashed by the House of Commons, and everyone else, for not staying abreast of events in Berlin – not anticipating the appointment of Hitler as Chancellor in 1933 or his reincorporation of the Saar in 1935 (not to forget his reoccupation of the Rhineland last year), and Chamberlain was threatening to cut off their funds if they did not produce; it is in this respect that Lady might be a saving grace. But he said: Well, I should pass this by White Hall first, but I think they well take my word for it. He scribbled a bit, and pushed the contract over to Lady. She was a rapid reader and soon had all the extras initialed, and signed at the bottom: Lady Qormi. Edward asked if she had a middle name? No? Do you have a birth certificate? Lady handed him the Photostat and the school papers, and said: I have only these. Edward looked at them. But he shook his head: I cannot believe your age. 17750492.odt

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Lady's heart stopped; she hoped nothing showed in her face. But she could not trust her voice at that moment, and merely asked the question by raising her eyebrows a bit. At the same time she was hopefully withering Edward with her intense black eyes. He mumbled: I mean you act more like 30 than 20. It was her turn to sigh inwardly, but outwardly she only smiled a bit – not too warmly, she hoped. Is it a deal then, she asked? Oh, of course, and White Hall cannot cancel the deal now without paying you six months wages of preevaluation service. Fine then, she said. I am happy with our agreement. Also, can you advance me some expense money right now? My parents are away on holiday and have forgotten to leave me any house money. Edward was so happy to have it done, he left her ten 10quid notes. Here is a signing bonus. No need to pay it back. I will get back with you when we have a schedule worked out. Will you be able to leave at any time? Yes, she said. The sooner the better. Great! He shook her hand and rushed away.

[Monday 06 January 1941] :: 17 This was not the first time Lady had thought through this whole scenario, word for word. But this time it was fraught with a special urgency. Her mother's misery hung heavily upon her conscience. She sighed so deeply it would have been heart wringing had there been anyone to hear. She stood up from the low stack of stones upon which she sat. Casually looking about while lighting a cigarette, she then did something unexpected. She got down on one knee and dug under a particular stone. A small tin was extracted. It appeared to be a tobacco tin. Inside was a sealed oil skin. She untaped it, took out a paper and put one of her own in its place, then resealed it. Back into the tin and back under the rock it went. Standing, Lady again carefully looked around in all directions, then slowly walked the trail back to Devil's Tower Road and to the Nissan hut. It was full light by now and the morning was warming the humid air. It would probably start raining before long. She heard someone brushing his teeth as she passed by the latrine. Turning into her room, closing and locking the door, she was carefully reading over the note taken from the tobacco tin, when someone knocked. She put the note into her flight overalls and unlocked the door. Giles stood there wearing a pleasant smile on his farm boy face. He seemed so much younger than herself. He was saying: Everyone else has gone to the mess hall. Would you like to get some breakfast? Lady had difficulty bringing her mind to settle on ordinary things of the moment. So many things were demanding her attention. So much weighed upon her. She nodded yes, in an absent way and picked up her gas bag pouch -- her purse. They walked quietly toward the mess halls, which as yet were combined into a single hall on Gibraltar. The one large room was divided up for Officers, Sergeants and Junior 17750492.odt

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Ranks, each one partitioned off into separate areas. It occurred to Lady that she might be an embarrassment for Giles, since he would have to sit in the Junior mess and she would have to ask permission to sit with him. Instead, she suggested that they go the NAFFI. Besides, it would be nearly empty during breakfast and she was in no mood to face everyone yet. They both took donuts, bacon and coffee to a table in the corner, from which they could look down toward the West end of the runway (Gibraltar had only the one runway running East and West). They could see the double tails of the Halifax sticking up out of the water off its end. Giles said: That was a very nice bit of flying you did yesterday. I suppose so, Lady said. But I have had a lot of experience with a variety of multi-engined planes in the last couple of years. You get to know the peculiarities of a plane pretty quickly. Like how much brakes you can apply without burning them out, I guess, Giles replied. And how much speed will capsize a tail dragger when you pivot on one wheel at the end, was Lady's addition. Thinking about that, Giles said: I've never flown a tricycle gear plane; in fact, I've never seen one. Have you? I have had classes in the States for flying the new B-24s. But they haven't been delivered to the fleet yet. Giles stared at her more admiringly than ever. He said: I have heard of them. Why were you given classes for that? I work for the Atlantic Return Ferry Service, Lady told him. By Christmas I will have to report to Buffalo New York in the States to start transporting them to Nutts Corner. The ones I flew in the States a few months ago were supposed to go to France. They had French dials and controls. But those planes are now being changed out so we can bring them here to the RAF. Soon, Coastal Command will be flying them. There simply was no end to Giles' admiration for this small dark beauty, who spoke with the curious authority of a regimental commander. She allowed that they ought to get down to HQ, since they both needed to check in. Giles felt like stamping his feet together and saying, Yes Sir – or Mam? He would have done it most willingly, but he did not. As they walked they could see that the dock yard had sent over a barge crane to lift the unfortunate Halifax from its wet berth. A diver was trying to get the lifting hook screwed into place. When they reached the HQ building, Giles opened the door for Lady and she said, This way. Stepping into a secretarial pool, Lady led the way through a far door to a yeoman behind a desk. She spoke quietly to him, nodding to Giles, then she smiled at Giles and left. The yeoman asked Giles to come behind the railing and have a seat, whereupon he left to retrieve Giles' records. Affably, he told Giles the records had gotten there a couple of weeks ago, which was unusual. They then got down to filling in all the blanks, as clerks had been doing all these years – only now the empty spaces were typed. After a bit Giles took a seat out front beside two sailors and waited. It wasn't lunch time quite yet when the Squadron Commander called Giles in for an introduction. The Commander told Giles that they had hoped he could fly the old Halifaxes they had managed to snag, but until the runway was extended further, it was clear that they should be grounded. Meanwhile, Giles would have to fly gunner in one of their six Swordfish Torpedo pontoon planes. I don't suppose you've been checked out in amphibious landings?

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No, Sir, Giles told him. OK, then. I know you feel Sterlings are difficult to land, but amphibious landings are far far more exacting. Happily, these planes handle more easily than bombers, but that only makes the water landing possible at all. For the moment we will have only six crews for the six planes, so you will get time off only when your plane is in for repairs. Before long the runway will be long enough for your Halifax to fly. Then you can start training crews to fly them – or perhaps I should fly 'it', since we have only the two now (normally expecting one to be down with repairs). The Commander stood up, and then said, Oh, I forgot. You have been up graded to Sergeant. Here are your chevrons and stickers. Report to the Squadron Leader and best of luck, Sergeant. As Giles put on his cap, he said, Thank you SIR, and saluted. Sailors do not wear their caps indoors, so cannot salute when on the inside, but the Army usually takes their caps off in the mess hall and the chapel – or when commanded. Otherwise, they go around saluting all the time. Giles went to the mess hall, since it was time for lunch. Spotting Giles' Corporeal strips, the mess captain asked if he really wanted the NCO mess, which is for senior ranks. Giles showed him his new insignias and asked if he were not allowed senior privileges now? Of course you are, Sergeant. My apologies. May I add your name to the proper roles? Giles took his seat at a table with a tablecloth, napkins and water. A mess waiter brought him the menu and he truly felt his new life in the 202 had started off beautifully – thanks to the abilities of Lady Qormi in getting them down in one piece. [Monday, 6 Jan 1941] 7180

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