ALONE I FLY is published in paperback and is priced at £6.99. (ISBN no is 1905006136)

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SAMPLE EXTRACTS -

Every driver of every car, van or lorry would engage in a heated slanging match every time the traffic stopped, and if by any chance the snarl-up was caused by a red traffic light, then they would all put their arms out of the window to carry on a tattoo against the body-work, until the sheer volume of noise made the red light turn pale and then green with embarrassment.

There were no smiles or chuckles now. The marquee was silent and still while the distant roar of an engine under test built up to a crescendo before dying away. Bill could sense the atmosphere even though he did not know that Tobruk had more defences per square yard than Berlin

And then it happened. Deep down in the darkened desert was a lonely ack ack gun with a lonely gunner with an itchy trigger finger. What chance had he of hitting a passing aircraft. Still it broke the monotony and you never know, and so there was a flash and a crack that Bill could hear over the engine noise and through the protecting ear-muffs of his helmet. He was conscious of a strong smell like fireworks on a damp November evening.

He lay enclosed in a cocoon of red pain, surrounded by a pulsating womb of agony. Every part of his body ached and throbbed while his head seemed to swell with the ever widening ripples that travelled outwards and outwards from the splashing stone of his existence.

And then a whine as of an express train filled the air. Bill threw himself on to his face before the explosion occurred, but he could feel the ground rock at the force of the impact, and then there was a deafness, a stillness, and then as his hearing came back there was a sound of breaking glass, a rumble of collapsing walls, and the scream of a child in the night   

It was almost the first bomb that scored a direct hit on the petrol bowser. The fire-ball enveloped the three Wellington aircraft, and everything was a sea of flame. Tracers popped off in the heat and sailed in every direction like fireworks in a November bonfire. The aircraft sagged down, their red hot aluminium slowly melting into pools of molten metal.

Having done the usual cockpit checks he taxied out to the edge of the field, and then turning into wind he opened both throttles and felt the old thrill coming back as it accelerated across the grass. However very soon a more familiar feeling appeared for half way across the field he realised he was never going to make it.    

Keeping the plane straight with the rudder, he kept a steady pressure back on the control column, sensing the resistance of the control surfaces against the slipstream. Gradually it became stronger and Bill felt it might fly, so a little stronger pressure and the plane became unstuck and he staggered over the embankment with inches to spare

Unfortunately he was not yet out of the wood because to his surprise he found himself flying straight into a collection of tall chimneys belonging to the London Brick Works. To his horror he found one straight in front so although only a little faster than stalling speed he banked and turned, missed it, and slowly climbed above the next, passing over it so close that he could see down its gaping sooty interior

Mr S.Bailey, retired teacher, closed his computer and thought about what he had written. Perhaps he had been lucky, but what he knew for certain was that despite arthritis, two false knees, two hearing aids, spectacles and false teeth, he was really lucky now for it was their diamond wedding anniversary and the family, daughters, grand children, and great grand-child were coming to help them celebrate.

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