Chapter 5:
Blackouts and Bombers
As the months passed, the threat from German U-boats only intensified. February and March saw increased activity in the waters around Ascension, with U-boats spotted as close as eight miles offshore. The command issued island-wide blackouts, and we lived in a state of heightened alert.
"Collins, remember the drill," Martinez said, his voice low and serious. "Blackouts mean no lights, no fires. We don't want to give those Germans any targets."
I nodded, my heart racing as I thought about the enemy lurking just beyond our horizon. The blackouts were a necessary precaution, but they added to the sense of unease that hung over the island.
One night, as we stood watch in the darkness, the radio crackled to life. "Wideawake Field, this is Cargo 421 requesting emergency landing. Over."
Martinez grabbed the handset. "Cargo 421, you are cleared for landing. Watch the approach. These birds don't play nice."
A C-47 lumbered down the runway, its engines roaring as it fought to stay aloft. The pilot's voice was tense over the radio. "Thought we'd have to jump. Got a little too close to a German sub out there."
As the plane landed safely, we breathed a collective sigh of relief. It was another close call, another reminder of the dangers we faced.
The next day, we received word that the British South Atlantic Freight Service would be making stopovers on Ascension during its weekly flights to Accra. It was a welcome addition to our routine, but it also meant more traffic and more potential targets for the enemy.
"Roberts, we need to be sharp," Martinez said, his eyes scanning the horizon. "With more planes coming in, we can't afford to let our guard down."
Roberts nodded, his usual humor tempered by the seriousness of the situation. "Don't worry, Martinez. We'll keep our eyes open."
As the days turned into weeks, the island became a hub of activity. Wireless communication was established with Accra, Robertsfield, and Natal, and the airfield saw a steady stream of planes. It was a chaotic but well-oiled machine, with each of us playing our part to keep it running smoothly.
One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, we stood watch in the fading light. The wideawake terns were quiet for once, and the only sound was the distant hum of engines and the occasional call of a bird.
"It's funny," Roberts said, breaking the silence. "Despite all the chaos, this place feels like home."
I nodded in agreement. "It's not the war we imagined, but it's our war. And we're making a difference."
Martinez looked at us, a hint of a smile on his face. "Just remember, Collins, Roberts, we're not just defending an island. We're defending a way of life."
As the stars began to twinkle in the night sky, we stood there, united in our purpose, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead. The war might be far away, but here on Ascension Island, we were its frontline, and we would not falter.