Armageddon_ A Novel of Berlin - Leon Uris [267]
Sid’s wife, Mary, was flirting with a British officer, as usual.
Ann Mendoza and Sue Scudder complained about the overcrowding at the high school.
Lou Edmonds told Chief Pilot Matt Beck the weather might clear.
Sarah Beck told Betty Edmonds there was a crystal factory at Neu-Isenburg that cut glass to your own pattern, was dirt cheap, and they made a date to drive over.
Air Commodore Rodman said he had landed a twenty-two pound salmon in Scotland on twelve-pound line. Hiram reckoned that the best battle, pound for pound, was with the Chinook salmon and invited the Commodore to come to Malibu some day when the albacore were running.
Dinner was served. As the first course arrived, Hiram Stonebraker stood up suddenly. “Commodore. Would you ask your people to adjourn immediately to the next room?”
The Englishman looked baffled.
“Ladies, will you excuse us?” Hiram said. “Gentlemen, please.”
Those who knew Hiram Stonebraker were not surprised at the sudden conference call. He shut the door, then had a tablecloth pinned on the wall. “Gentlemen. I have just solved the way to end the stacks over Berlin.”
They were all stunned.
He drew a diagram of the flow of the air bridge: planes following each other at three-minute intervals to the Planter Beacon on the first approach leg at Tempelhof.
“Here is the new difference. There will be no more stacking in case of weather. If a plane misses his approach or for any reason cannot land he is to return to his home base in the Center corridor and come back in the next bloc.”
If Big Easy Four had been sent back after his first attempt during the fiasco, there would have been no stack over Berlin!
It was so utterly simple, but so utterly perfect!
“We will not only fly to Berlin in three-minute intervals, we will land in three-minute intervals. The rhythm will not be broken by a missed approach. The craft will return to base and the beat ... beat ... beat will continue behind him.”
For a moment no one moved, scarcely breathed.
“He’s got it,” sputtered Air Commodore Rodman.
“Why in the hell didn’t we think of this earlier?” Stonebraker admonished himself. “Well ... let’s return to the ladies.”
Born from the fiasco of Blue Monday and Black Tuesday, Hiram Stonebraker had found the magic key to convert disaster into victory.
TO ALL AIRLIFT STATIONS: IN CASE OF MISSED APPROACH, AIRCRAFT IS TO BE DIVERTED TO HOME BASE THROUGH CENTER CORRIDOR AND RETURNED ON NEXT BLOC. UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES WILL AIRCRAFT BE ALLOWED TO STACK. STONEBRAKER.
For the first time in the history of aviation the ancient ritual of stacking and holding patterns was eliminated and there was the feeling for the first time that the Airlift could succeed.
In a matter of days the tonnage rose from three thousand to thirty-five hundred tons ... to four thousand tons ... and then the daily goal of forty-five hundred tons was reached. It was reached on a stormy day during which ground-controlled approach talked down 80 per cent of the flights.
The joint British and American bases at Fassberg and Celle went into operation with the arrival of more Skymasters. The daily tonnage went over five thousand! The inevitable merger of forces came into being. As in war, the old Allies combined in peace with Hiram Stonebraker commander and Air Commodore Rodman vice commander of COMBINED AIRLIFT TASK FORCE.
The air bridge roared on day and night, and now the beat ... beat ... beat ... was that of a giant metronome, and with each beat another ten tons was transfused into the city of Berlin.
The engineers and the Berliners labored in a fury to complete the third airfield at Tegel. Day ... night ... day .. . night ... beat ... beat ... beat... ten tons ... ten tons ... ten tons.
Although the miracle had come within grasp for the first time, the greatest single challenge still lay ahead, for soon they would face that long time