Page 39 of Hearts of Resistance
When he stopped at an aircraft hangar she took the chance to sit down, her knees knocking. It was time to run through everything again, and she was looking forward to doing so; it would give her the clarity and focus she needed. The more times she went through all the details, the more in control she felt.
She watched him as he carefully took out a map and leaned in closer to her.
‘This is your dropping point,’ he said. ‘I want you to familiarise yourself again with where you’ll be landing.’
Hazel stared at him, committing to memory what he was showing her. She blew out a breath. She knew she was joining a man and woman, that they’d be waiting for her in an old shed near her landing coordinates, and that she was being dropped in as their radio operator. But all the facts in the world weren’t going to prepare her for the real thing and she knew it.
‘There is one thing I want to talk to you about,’ Eddie said, sitting down beside her.
‘What is it?’ she asked, curious.
‘There are two tablets that every SOE agent must carry with them at all times. I have your two here for you.’
Hazel gulped. It felt like there were rocks in her throat. Why did she not already know this?
‘What are they?’
‘This,’ he said, ‘is Benzedrine. It will keep you awake if you need it to.’
‘And the other?’ she asked.
He nodded, holding up a small rubber something. She realised then it was a cover of some sort.
‘This is an L tablet. It’s lethal and you must keep it in this cover. Basically it’s a death pill, and if you bite down on it, you’ll be dead within two minutes.’
‘It kills you that quickly?’
‘I’m afraid so. Think of it as another weapon, something you have as a safety net if you’re ever, well, if you’re ever in the type of situation that desperately requires it.’
‘Thank you,’ Hazel said, taking the pills from him. She almost didn’t want to touch the L tablet, hating the idea of being in a situation so dire she’d have to use it or even think about using it.
‘I’ll go through your equipment once more, but other than that you’ll be in the air in no time,’ Eddie told her. ‘I’ll give you a hot toddy before we drop you, so that’s something to look forward to, I suppose.’
Hazel smiled her thanks. ‘I hope it comes with a generous dollop of rum. I’ll need it to steel my nerves.’
‘Don’t worry, love, it’ll have enough rum in it to put hairs on your chest.’
She was nervous as a person could be, but his silly joke made her laugh. She took a deep breath as she looked out at the planes. There were some agents returning, the lucky ones who’d managed to stay alive in France and make it home, and a handful being sent out. She had less than an hour before she left the safety of England, and then her fate was entirely in her own hands.
All she had to do now was put her parachute overalls on and get ready to go.
The plane was vibrating so much that Hazel was certain her entire body was buzzing, her hands shaking, her stomach flipping so violently she was on the verge of being sick. Being so high in the air, knowing what was about to happen, what she was about to do to herself – it was beyond awful.
She knew they were close, that it wouldn’t be long before she had to drop, but until then she was holding on tight.
‘Here!’
She took the hot toddy that was being passed to her from the dispatcher when she heard his shout, willing her hands to stop shaking so she could hold it without spilling it all over herself. Hazel drank it down, hoping it gave her the courage she so desperately needed.
‘See this?’ he shouted, and if she hadn’t been staring at him she probably wouldn’t even have known he was speaking. The roaring of the plane’s engines was so loud in her ears that she doubted she’d ever forget the noise.
She nodded and watched as he made a big fuss out of checking the line to show her how sturdy it was and then giving the hook they’d be using a few mighty pulls. The thought of free-falling and finding her parachute didn’t work or wasn’t properly attached had certainly crossed her mind. Then again, she knew her chances of surviving the parachute drop were significantly greater than surviving her time in France.
Something felt different then, the engine slowing or something, she didn’t know, and when she passed the cup back to her dispatcher, she wished she hadn’t drunk the entire toddy now that it was sloshing around in her belly.
She stared at the lights, watched as the dispatcher took a call from the pilot on the intercom. This was it. She knew this was the moment. She’d worried about her fiancé not coming home from war, but she suddenly realised that perhaps she had less chance of coming home now than he did.
Her dispatcher got up and took hold of the static line on her parachute, attaching it to the hook on the plane. Then he glanced at her before opening a hole in the floor of the fuselage. Hazel knew the drill, had gone over it many times so she knew what to expect and not to make a mistake, but everything seemed to be happening so fast now.
