Historical fiction, part 2

by Jack Watkins

“What’s the matter Abby? What happened?” Through red swollen eyes, Abby looked up, let out a shrill cry. She jumped up with out-stretched arms, wrapped them around Hanks neck and began to sob uncontrollably, while moaning, “Oh Hank, Hank, Hank.”

[Abby’s actions should be separated from Hank’s dialog by a new paragraph. Plus Abby speaks at the end and two speakers should always be in separate paragraphs.]

All manner of thoughts raced through Hanks mind as he comforted his sister. “Abby stop your cryin’ and tell me what happened. Where’s Ma, Dad, Joey, Liz? What happened?” he finally exclaimed in one breath. [Let the structure of your dialog speak for itself.]

“Oh, it’s just terrible Hank. It’s just terrible,” she blurted out between sobs.

“What’s so terrible?”

“Oh Hank, Joey’s gone,” she wailed and went limp in his arms. [When people say someone is gone, the first thing that pops into my mind is they’re dead. Could you have her say Joey left?]

“Whatta you mean he’s gone? Is he hurt? Now calm down Sis, your making no sense a’tall.” Hank pried Abby away from him, held her at arms length, looked her in the eye, and yelled, “Stop all this nonsense and tell me what’s goin’ on.”

Abby looked up at Hank with sorrowful eyes, and mouth quivering. “Oh Hank. Joey ran off and joined the Army, and Pa’s blamin’ it all on you. He says you turned him with all your high fallutin’ flyboy stuff. Says Joey’s been worthless around the farm since you left. All he’s been doin’ is dreamin’ about flyin’ off and fightin’ Japs and Nazi’s. Couldn’t get a lick a work out of him. Oh Hank it’s just terrible. What’s gonna happen to us all? Everything is fallen apart.” Out of breath, Abby once again fell into Hanks arms and buried her face in his chest wailing.

Walking back to the house, Abby gained some control and related to Hank how Ma and Pa had just left the day before to find Joey.

“Pa thinks that Joey went to San Antone to sign up. At least that is what the note Joey left said.

“What note?” Hank asked.

Setting herself into the porch swing Abby replied, “Well, Hank, you remember when you were home last and you was telling us all about your flight training and all?”

“Yea sis I remember,” Hank said as he sat next to his sister.

“That’s all Joey talked about for weeks after you left. He was gonna join up and go fight. Pa did’n pay much attention to it. Just thought it was Joey spouting off and dreamin’. You know Joey. Pa didn’t think Joey was serious and all, knowin’ that he couldn’t sign up without his permission anyways. Well yesterday mornin’ Joey begged Pa if he could go into town to fetch the mail and Pa relented. He never came home. Ma found a note in his room saying he was sorry and everything, but he had this duty to sign up like Hank and James and all the rest of the boys.”

“So they just off and went to San Antonio? There is no way they’ll find him. The Army is takin’ ever’ warm blooded body they can find now. I know lotta of boys lyin’ bought [‘bout] their age, no questions asked.”

“They thought they would look up James and Sarah and see what they could find out. Pa was plenty mad when he left. At you!”

“At me! What did I do? Anyway I thought James was being shipped out. ”

“Last I heard, he was ordered to be an instructor or something. Since he has so much experience flyin’. Robert Henry you know what you done. You practically told Joey to run off and enlist. Joey was bewitched by all your talk. I heard all the things you were telling him that last night you were here. You ought to be ashamed of yourself Hank, tellin’ all those lies about the girls and drinkin. Pa taught you better than that.”

[Is it important to include Sarah and James here? We don’t know who they are and that much information gets in the way of emotions. Above, Abby sounds very logical when she’s explaining what James is doing. Then she jumps into hot emotion. “Robert Henry, you know what you done.” That heat should be up front.

And in general, Abby’s dialog is a little long to sound natural. Yes, she has a lot to explain, but see what you can break up with a little more give and take between Hank and Abby.]

Hank was shocked at his sister’s revelations. [You’re telling the emotion, not showing it.] “Where’d you hear that Abby?”

“That last night you were here, Hank. You and Joey were out on this very porch talkin’. I heard ever’ word you said Robert Henry.”

“Cut the Robert Henry bunk out Abigail. Joey didn’t believe all of that. I was just tellin’ tales. You really think Joey run off and enlisted because of what I said?”

“Yea I do, Robert Henry,” she said, as she hopped up before Hank could take a swat at her.

[In that scene, we see who Hank is. I can hear his southern drawl, so you did a good job there. Try to bring some of that into the war scenes. He can’t be as relaxed as he is at home, but he can be just as human. Try to find a balance between the detachment he has to feel in order to get the job done, and the person he is.]

16 Oct 1944
13:22
Southwest of Munich Germany

Enough daydreaming! Hank evaluated the target of opportunity below. He quickly surmised that if they strafed the cars before knocking out the locomotive, there would be less chance the troops could jump off the moving train and escape into the woods. Then they would come around for second pass and drop their five hundred pound bombs. With Lt. Davis tight on his wing he knew that his wingman would follow his lead so there was no need to break radio silence. With two quick hand signals to Jeffrey, Hank rolled the Mustang inverted, pulled back on the stick, and advanced the throttles to full Emergency Power, 67 inches of manifold pressure. As the nose passed through the horizon and the train came into view, he rolled the wings level and zeroed in on the trailing car. His plan was to fly down the length of the train and lay a stream of fifty caliber projectiles from his six Browning model MG53-2 machine guns. With the 1600 horses at max power the Mustang accelerated quickly as it nosed over.

[Readers, especially you males, I need your opinion on this. Here’s mine:

Jack, you’ve done your research with all those specifics. But too many slow down the action. Remember, these are his thoughts. “…a stream of fifty caliber projectiles from his six Browning model MG53-2…” Is that really how he’s going to think of it in the heat of the moment? Or is he going to think about flying down the length of the train and letting loose a stream of bullets? For that matter, it might be better to just see the events play out instead of hearing his plans ahead of time.

Please voice your opinions in the comments to let Jack know how this comes across. This wasn’t done accidentally—it’s a specific style he’s going for. So, male and female alike, you can act as his focus group.]

Hank lined the trailing car up in the K-14B gunsight, armed his guns, and checked his altitude. He was passing through five thousand feet, and the vertical speed indicator (VSI) [skip the initials this time] was showing a four thousand foot per minute descent. In sixty seconds Hank would need to shallow his descent or risk be unable to pull out of the dive. Passing three thousand feet Hank opened with a short burst to check range and accuracy. With a touch of rudder and easing back on the stick, Hank squeezed the trigger and watched as the tracers and bullet impacts walked their way up the train. [good description] As he released the trigger he noticed some activity on three flat bed cars close to the front. What appeared to be tarps were pulled off guns mounted on the flat bed cars.

[If they looked like tarps to him, it’s okay to just say tarps. Otherwise, it slows down the action. Then rephrase the rest so it’s active, not passive voice. Actually, start your rephrase with the overly polite and formal, “he noticed some activity.” Try something like, “Toward the front of the train, troops streamed onto three flat cars and yanked tarps off of mounted machine guns.” Now I can see much more clearly what’s happening.]

Hank pulled up hard and to the left. All Mustang pilots knew a single round to the liquid cooling system would bring a Mustang down, because the critical components of this cooling system were in the forward and lower sections of the fuselage. They also knew the Mustang was more vulnerable to ground fire than it was to enemy aircraft. As in all aircraft designs there are give and takes. What made the Mustang so sleek and fast was it’s in-line liquid cooled engine. What made it vulnerable to ground fire was it’s in-line liquid cooled engine. As a result, the ratio of losses to missions flown was higher on these ground attack missions for the P-51 than they were for the P-47 Thunderbolt with its air-cooled engine. That is why most Mustang pilots preferred not to fly the ground attack missions.

[Streamline this paragraph:

Hank pulled up hard and to the left. Most Mustang pilots preferred not to fly the ground attack missions. What made the Mustang so sleek and fast—its in-line liquid cooled engine—was also what made it vulnerable. A single round to the cooling system would bring it down.

You might want just a little more information than that, but don’t overburden the reader with detail. (Again, only my opinion.)]

Hank felt the impacts of 20 mm projectiles as he climbed and his worst fears were realized when he noticed his coolant pressure dropping. [Slip the part about the liquid-cooled engine in here. It’ll fit more smoothly because you have a perfect excuse to talk about it.] With pressure dropping, Hank knew that the coolant temp would rising shortly. Looking back over his shoulder to locate his wingman, he saw Lt. Davis opening up with all six, fifty cals, and as Jeff pulled up he saw two five hundred pound bombs drop from his wings.

[How does he think of his wingman? Lt. Davis or Jeff? Stick with one or the other.]

“Knock ‘em out Jeff!” Hank shouted. Then there was a huge fireball where Lt Davis’ Mustang had been. Hank realized, that as he had pulled up, the German gunners had turned the full firepower of their antiaircraft guns on Lt. Davis’s Mustang. He never had a chance. An enormous explosion engulfed the locomotive. A cloud of steam mushroomed into the sky. Troop cars went careening off the track in every direction. Secondary explosions obscured the rest of the train as Hank turned his head back.

[That paragraph should be broken up. Not for length but because of content. Also it needs more emotion, something with more impact than “there was a huge fireball.” Get some action verbs in there. And Hank’s analysis of what happened is too clinical. Here’s a rewrite. Not what it should be—I don’t have that kind of time—but just to give you an idea of the basic elements to include and where to break the paragraphs.

“Knock ‘em out, Jeff!”

He looked down and saw a huge fireball where Jeff’s Mustang should have been. The air left Hank’s lungs. Jeff hadn’t stood a chance against the full power of the antiaircraft guns.

But his final act succeeded. An explosion engulfed… (the rest is fine as is.)]

With no time to mourn the loss of Lt. Davis, Hank quickly assessed his situation. He was over 300 miles from his base, with an engine that was rapidly losing coolant. He needed altitude and some time to choose where he could set the Mustang down. However, the terrain southwest of Munich was not very suitable to land an airplane. [Give an example of the terrain. “not very suitable” is too vague. Rocky? Too many trees?] His only hope was to head west as far as the engine would last and bailout at a safe altitude. Thankful that he had committed to memory the location of German troop concentrations he had received in the intelligence briefing, [shorten: Thankful he’d memorized the location of German troops,] he pointed the nose of the Mustang west. He had been able to trade speed for altitude, as he was now passing through six thousand feet, but his speed was decaying rapidly and he did not know how much longer his engine would last. [In that sentence, you summarize the situation and then explain it, which sounds redundant to me. Choose which one you want.] Hank reduced the power on the engine and opened the cooling flaps to the full open position to get as much cooling as possible. “A lotta’ good that’ll do,” he thought. “If there is no coolant to cool, it won’t matter how much I open the cooling flaps.”

[Too many “cools” here. “If there’s no coolant, it won’t matter how much I open the flaps.” And you repeat the word open in the previous sentence.]

Hank started going over bailout procedures. There are two ways to bail out of a P-51. The pilots operating manual(POM) states: [With the last two sentences, you stole the scene away from your character and started talking directly to your readers. Just say what his two options are instead of quoting the manual.]

To bail out, either of two procedures may be followed:

1. Release canopy, roll airplane over on its back and drop out.

2. Release canopy, climb out of cockpit, lower yourself onto the wing and roll off.

The pros and cons of each procedure rolled over in Hank’s mind. He kind of liked the idea of rolling inverted, pushing on the stick a little and letting the negative G’s force him out of the cockpit. He remembered verbatim the POM’s procedure for releasing the canopy in flight:

The cockpit enclosure may be released as a unit in an emergency. The Emergency Release handle is located on the right forward side of the cockpit. To release the canopy, pull the handle all the way back. Remember: Duck you hear as you pull the handle to avoid a head injury. [This one might be okay.]

Duck your head, Ha! Hank swapped hands on the stick, ducked his head, and reached down with his right hand and pulled the release handle. Nothing happened. He pulled again. Still the canopy did not release.

Ok, Hank, fly the airplane first . A phrase his first flight instructors had impressed on him head whenever you were in an emergency. Wouldn’t do much good to spin this baby in while solving this problem. He thought about his other options. He could slide the canopy back and climb out, and if that did not work, it looked like he would have to “dead stick” it in. He did not like that option. Not much level ground down there to set her down on. He also did not like the idea of climbing out of the cockpit with the canopy not fully released. [Don’t look now, but you’ve lost your contractions. :o)]

Hank glanced at his instruments one more time. Coolant temp was already past redline. Manifold pressure and RPM’s were dropping. The engine, that precious Merlin began belching white smoke out of the exhaust stacks. Hank felt a vibration build. Then BAM! The prop stopped. Silence, except for the slip stream.

Hank’s mind went into automatic. His vision narrowed and everything seemed to slow down. Speed decaying, push the nose over. Check attitude. Set up best glide speed. Time was running out. Hank took his fist and started banging all around the base of the canopy, still flying with his left hand. Once more he reached down and pulled the release handle. This time he forgot to duck.

Great ending to a chapter.

I think you’ve got a good idea for a story here. It’s a little hard to tell because so much of it is action. And the overall tone sounds too formal, other than his visit home. Am I right in assuming you’ll continue alternating between two separate timelines? I like that idea. It’ll give the reader a break and let them see another side to Hank.

Again, I’ll ask for your feedback. I know a lot of you like to stay in the background. And leaving a comment here means either disagreeing with me or disagreeing with Jack. Keep it anonymous if want. But if you do, I think it would be helpful to say whether you’re male or female. It’ll interest me, at any rate. I have a theory that it might be because I’m a woman that I don’t care to know the model of the gun that’s being fired.