THE moon was coming up in the east, behind me,
and stars were shining in the clear sky above me.
There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. I was happy to be
alone high up above the sleeping countryside. I was
flying my old Dakota aeroplane over France back to
England. I was dreaming of my holiday and looking
forward to being with my family. I looked at my
watch: one thirty in the morning.
‘I should call Paris Control soon,’ I thought. As I
looked down past the nose of the aeroplane, I saw
the lights of a big city in front of me. I switched on
the radio and said, “Paris Control, Dakota DS 088
here. Can you hear me? I’m on my way to England.
Over.”
The voice from the radio answered me immediately:
“DS 088, I can hear you. You ought to turn twelve
degrees west now, DS 088. Over.”
I checked the map and the compass, switched
over to my second and last fuel tank, and turned
the Dakota twelve degrees west towards England.
‘I’ll be in time for...