Flt. Lt. Ralph Sidney finally felt calmer about climbing into his Sopwith Pup Scout and following his squadron mates over No Man’s Land to prowl the early evening skies for German observation planes.
“Are you cold, Sidney?” his flight leader asked last week, noticing the young British flyer shaking like a wet dog before his first-ever sortie.
“Um, no Sir…yes Sir…Ready to go, Sir,” he replied and crawled into the cockpit and never stopped shaking from the cold, fear and excitement the whole first week of his time in France, seeing the enemy and even firing a few rounds into a Bosche reconnaissance plane.
He was finally beginning to feel more comfortable in the air today, even after momentarily losing sight of his flight amid the towering clouds that looked for all the world like glistening orange spires of cathedrals back home in England, or maybe one of his Mum’s silly hats.
Pity, while he smiled and admired them, even saying a little prayer, he never saw the scarlet German Albatros fighter dive upon him from the setting sun to his rear.
This little story was written in response to Lillie McFerrin’s Five-Sentence Fiction prompt “Scarlet.”