Devils with Wings: Silk Drop by Harvey Black

requested a transfer to another unit, which had been immediately accepted by Volkman, who was pleased to get rid of him. Paul was initially displeased.
    “He just needed time sir, he lacked confidence.”
    “He’s a liability Brand, and we’re best rid of him.”
    “But he was my responsibility sir,” anger clearly showing on his face.
    Volkman stood up, slapping his stick down on his desk.
    “If it was peacetime Brand I would agree with you, but we’re at war, we haven’t got time for complacency.”
    “But sir.”
    “Drop it Brand, dismissed.”
    Paul came to attention, saluted, turned on his heel and left the Raven’s office. One piece of compensatory news though, was Krause’s replacement, newly promoted Leutnant Leeb. One of Paul’s Unteroffizier’s, one of his troop commanders during their time in Poland and Belgium, he had been flagged as potential officer material and he had been accepted for accelerated officer training.
    Paul had gathered his men together outside of the canteen. It was too nice to be stuck inside on this warm autumn day. They had dragged the chairs and a couple of tables out of the canteen and placed them on one of the few stretches of grass on the Luftwaffe base. An area often used for BBQs when the base’s occupants put pressure on the mess staff. The Luftwaffe Feldwebel responsible for the day to day running of the canteen had protested vehemently at having the canteen disrupted in this way. But a little persuasion from Max had calmed him down. That’s not to say that Max’s impressive size and sheer presence didn’t help influence the outcome.
    The newly appointed Leutnant Leeb stood out with his pristine eagles on his tunic denoting his new rank. Sat either side were his fellow platoon commanders. To his left the Impetuous Roth and to his right the steady Nadel. Max was stood behind them, like a rock, his hands resting on the backs of their chairs, as if watching over his charges. The role reversal between Max and Leutnant Leeb would be interesting, thought Paul, Leeb now being senior to Max, in rank at least. Paul was also coming to terms with the authority he held, not only due to his rank of Oberleutnant, but also the fact that he was one of the now famous ‘Green Devils’. As Max often muttered to himself, “he’s coming out of his shell.” Even so, he was still very protective of his young commander.
    “Come on people, sort yourselves out,” shouted Max.
    “Grab yourselves a drink on your way to your seats,” added Paul.
    Max had suggested to the Luftwaffe cookhouse that the provision of an urn of orange juice would be most agreeable. They were eager to comply. The company had finally settled down in their seats, the occasional roar of an aircraft engine being tested and the odd plane landing or taking off in the background. It was far from the front lines of the French Coast and England, but it was still an operational airfield.
    “Right,” Paul coughed, clearing his throat. “I have just come from a briefing with the Battalion Commander.” He hesitated before he continued speaking, allowing the assembled soldiers to finish their speculation of what the briefing may have been about. He rarely held formal briefings, preferring to sit with his platoons and talk with them over a coffee or a beer, or while they were partaking in some scheduled training, and get individual feedback on his suggestions, ideas. Today though, required a more formal setting. “I’m afraid I have some bad news and some good news gentlemen.”
    All of a sudden the low hum from the soldiers died down and they looked pensive, clearly concerned that something disastrous may have happened.
    “Our Luftwaffe have been unable to completely destroy the RAF.” There was a groan from the hundred men gathered around their company commander. “It was imperative that the air force destroyed the RAF before launching Operation Sea lion. To that end, the operation has been cancelled.”
    The groan