Like so many small ezines, Aurora Wolf s gone. but we republish the story here, along with its original art.
CAPTAIN OF THE CLOUDS
By Lou Antonelli
The Second
Confederacy used unremarkable biplanes to patrol its side of the international border,
but the Greater Texas Republic used helium-filled dirigibles on its side of the
Mississippi River--and Billy Greer knew each one by sight.
The Texas airship
on patrol the summer of 1936 along river was the Gov. Ferguson, named for the
Texas governor when the U.S. imploded in the wake of devastation caused by the
Spanish Flu epidemic of 1918 and Texas seceded, taking Louisiana and Arkansas
with it. Living in the State of
Mississippi side of the river, Billy was a future citizen of the Second
Confederacy.
During the summer
Billy and his friends would wait every afternoon to see it float past Natchez. This afternoon, though, Billy was alone. Some of his friends had been distracted by a report
of a dead cat run over on a nearby street. Billy took advantage of being alone to do
something he’d wanted to do for a long time.
On the banks of
the river below the southern terminus of the old Natchez Trace trail there was
a communal Huck Finn-type raft which had been assembled by the local boys from
old pallets and planks. Billy had always
wanted to see an airship up close, but that would mean you would have to go to
the far side of the river.
The dirigible
always stayed on the other side of the mid-river boundary, inside the limits of
the Greater Texas Republic. In the past,
the boys had debated amongst themselves how dangerous it would be to set off
across the great river, and had always managed to talk themselves out of it. Today, Billy decided, he was going to do it
himself.
He set out into
the river as the first spied the Gov. Ferguson on the northern horizon. The silvery aluminum exterior glinted in the
late afternoon sun. He estimated that he
would be in position on the Louisiana side of the river by the time the
aircraft reached him.
He used a rudder and
an oar to maneuver himself. Despite it
being a seat-of-the-pants operation, his plan worked. The river was at a slow and sluggish summer’s
pace, with no currents or eddies strong enough to drive him off course. He
sweated profusely, but he succeeded.
It was an
impressive sight. The aircraft was 1000 feet long, and it flew only 200 feet
above the river by the time it reached Natchez.
Billy had the best seat in the house.
He noticed the
ship shuddered slightly as it passed -- as if the steering wheel was being
shaken-- and then he saw a panel open on the underside. Then a mannequin on a rope fell out.
Billy snapped his
mouth shut when he realized the “mannequin” was kicking its legs.
It was obvious
from the man’s body language that he was looking up frantically as he quickly
lowered himself down the full length of the rope, which extended halfway to the
water. In a moment he was all the way down.
Then the rope went limp and plunged down past him.
The man
spread-eagled himself like a parachutist, obviously intent to slow his descent.
Billy began paddling furiously in his direction. In a moment the man crashed into the
Mississippi River.
Billy could hear
the engines of the airship rev up as it sped down the river, veering inland towards
the Confederate side.
By the time Billy
reached where the man had plunged into the water, all he saw were diminishing air
bubbles.
Billy was a good
swimmer, but there was no way he could try to dive and search for the man. Then he
saw the bubbles increasing. A moment
later the man’s head broke the surface.
He gasped for air
and groaned. Billy called out to him.
“Over here mister,
I’m over here!”
The man
laboriously turned around as he treaded water and Billy continued to paddle
towards him. As he drew close, Billy
extended the paddle and the man grabbed it.
In a moment the
man had pulled himself to the edge of the raft.
Billy grabbed him by the shoulders.
“Thanks kid,
you’re in the right place at the right time!” the man rasped.
He floated there
for a minute, his arms locked on the edge of the raft, as he caught his breath.
“What happened
mister? Did you have an accident?”
The man looked up
at Billy. “No son, it’s a mutiny--a hijacking. They were throwing me overboard, but I managed
to a grab a line to break my fall.”
They both heard a
motor and turned to see a speedboat coming from Natchez. In a minute it reached them. The Mississippi state trooper behind the
wheel looks startled as he saw the man bobbing in the water.
“Dear God, Captain
August! What happened?”
Billy took a good
look and realized with shock he had just rescued the most famous dirigible captain
on the Mississippi River.
The trooper stretched
out his arms. “Let’s get both of you in
this here boat, and back to shore, pronto!”
He pulled the
airship captain in and then gestured to Billy.
“But my raft!”
“To the devil with
your raft,” the trooper said. “I’ll buy
you a rowboat. We need to get back!”
He quickly hauled
Billy in, and gunned the engine as they headed back to Natchez.
“What happened up
there?” asked the trooper.
“They crew was
infiltrated. They jumped my men at mess,
and then confronted me and the navigator in the cabin,” August said. “They made him steer at gunpoint, but they
grabbed me and dragged me to the hatch.”
“That fall would
have killed you!”
“I’m glad I saw
the rope and grabbed it as they shoved me out,” August said. “Thank god the boy was right there,” August
said as he grabbed Billy by the shoulder. “I might have gone under before you got to
me.”
There was no radio
on the motorboat, but the trooper hopped onto the dock when they pulled in and
spoke to some Natchez city policemen, who ran to their patrol cars and got on
the radio.
The airship
captain turned to Billy. “Son, I’ve got
to run, we’ve got some hijackers to catch. But thanks for getting me out of the river.”
He extended his
hand.
Billy went to
shake it, and as Capt. August pumped it, Billy felt a coin in his palm. He looked down to see a gold double Eagle.
Billy’s eyes got
wide and he looked up at the famous Captain of the Clouds in awe.
The airman winked
at him and smiled. Billy stood at the
end of the dock as the adults left to go on the manhunt.
#
Word quickly
spread across the small city. The next
morning the headlines in the Natchez Democrat newspaper told the story:
“Capt. August
eludes death with help of 11-year old”.
“Authorities
baffled – Airship vanishes!”
“U.S. tells Texas
Germany probable culprit.”
The German regime
led by the bitter ex-corporal who was gassed in the Great War was itching for a
rematch with the U.K. and France--secure in the knowledge that this time, the
U.S. would not have the resources to come to the aid of them.
Indeed, the U.S.
was a shadow of itself after the Spanish Flu pandemic killed 60 percent of its
population. What started as the
quarantine between states led to “E Pluribus Unum” becoming “E Pluribus Sixtus”
as the central government collapsed.
But the rump U.S.
President Al Smith in Washington still had enough clout to convince President
Huey Long in the Greater Texas Republic--which now held a monopoly of the
element --not to sell the Germans any helium for their airships.
The next morning
Billy’s faced glowed brighter than the double eagle Captain August had given
him. All the neighbors wanted to see
him, and the other children were pop-eyed in amazement.
Just the previous
week, they had seen the newsreel at the Odeon on how the famous airship captain
marked the tenth anniversary of patrolling the Mississippi for the Greater
Texas Republic. Between rum runners--Prohibition
was still in effect in the Second Confederacy--arms smugglers trying to supply
the Mormon insurrection in the Rocky Mountain Republic, and tariff cheats,
Capt. August and his small but efficient crew made headlines constantly because
of their effectiveness.
“He combines the
morals of a Boy Scout with the determination of a U.S. G-man,” wrote a reporter
for the Minneapolis Star earlier in the year, in a piece explaining how the
stable Texas-Confederacy border benefitted the remnants of the United States
which now only straddled the Upper Mississippi.
Mrs. Greer
insisted to her husband Billy go to school that day – “Honey, he musn’t get a
swelled head!” – but that had the opposite effect. Billy was the object of everyone’s
attention. Even the teachers stared at him,
and talked among themselves.
That afternoon,
The Captain of the Clouds himself appeared at the door of Billy’s classroom. He was accompanied by a Confederate Secret
Service agent.
Capt. August winked at Billy as they spoke to
his teacher, who then called Billy to her desk.
“Son, both
President Long and President Bilbo have agreed to let Captain August
participate in the search for his airship, since it was last seen crossing over
into our state,” the CSS agent said. “Once
his airship is recaptured, he would like to have you join the crew as an
apprentice airman.”
“Would you like to
help me stop smugglers and spies?” asked August.
“Would I! When do we start?”
“First, I need to
get my ship back. And you can help me
find it,” August said, bending at the knees. “How well do you know Natchez?”
“I know it like
the back of my hand,” Billy said.
“Good, you can
help me in the search!” August said as he stood up.
“Smart public
relations, bringing the kid on board,” the CSS agent side-mouthed.
August turned so
they were face to face.
“Yes, but he
really can help, wait and see,” he said. “I have a gut feeling about this. I can still fly by the seat of my pants.”
#
After a brief
visit to Billy’s parents, Capt. August and Billy were driven to the Mississippi
state militia’s barracks, where the Confederate war room for the search was based.
“Stay here on the
sidelines and wait, you’re going to be going out on a search,” said August to
Billy.
August went over
to a table and spoke to a cluster of troopers and agents as he pointed to
Billy. Billy could see they were poring
over a large map.
“The airship was
last seen heading towards an area of cotton fields and tobacco farms,” an agent
said. “No one lives there, you could
lose the moon over that county.”
“Yes, but if it
didn’t continue on, where could it be?” asked another.
“If the krauts
stole the airship for its helium, they still need to park it someplace while
they drain it,” a third said. “We’ll see
it from the air.”
“It may be
camouflaged by now,” August said. “Still,
they’ll need to smuggle the helium out somehow.” He nodded in Billy’s direction. “That’s why I brought along my Baker Street
Irregular. He’d notice something out of
place.”
He gestured to a
state trooper. “Drive him all around
this county, and Franklin County, where my ship was last seen. Let’s see if he notices anything unusual or
anyone out of place.”
August went over
to Billy. “I want you to go on a
scouting patrol. This trooper is going to drive you all around Adams County,
and then you’re going to go out to Franklin County. If you see someone you
think looks hinky, or something strange, tell him.”
He shook Billy’s
hand very seriously. “You’re my apprentice now,’ he said as he saluted him.
“Yes sir!” Billy
barked, returning the salute.
They left, and
August went back to the table.
“I don’t see why
you think the kid can help,” said a trooper.
“He’s young and
uncorrupted, and eager,” August said. “Another
set of eyes can’t hurt. Besides, I’m serious. A kid like him, with all his moxie--I mean,
damn, he fished me out of the Mississippi!--I want him as an apprentice on my
airship.”
#
The rest of the
afternoon and evening the trooper and Billy were on patrol in Natchez, and then
they left Adams County for Franklin County. Billy peered out the open window of the patrol
car like a German police dog, but nothing caught his attention.
Back in Natchez
that night, the trooper stopped to get himself and Billy a moon pie and an RC Cola
before dropping Billy off at home. While
the trooper was in the store, Billy noticed a large open truck loaded with
pressurized tanks being fueled up.
The shiny sign on
the side said “Rachen’s Welding Service, Natchez, Ms”.
When the trooper
sidled back into the patrol car, Billy pointed to the truck.
“I’ve never seen
that truck here before,” he said.
The trooper
squinted. “That’s a lot of acetylene to
be carrying. Come to think of it, who’d
be welding this time of night?”
He opened his
door. “Stay inside, but if something
happens, get on the radio.”
The trooper walked
around the back of the truck and saw the driver, who was leaning on the side
smoking.
The trooper drew
his weapon. “Put your hands up, now!”
The cigarette fell
from the driver’s mouth as he reached for a shoulder holster. The trooper shot him in the chest. A second man came around the front, but when
he saw the trooper had him in his sights, he threw his gun down.
The attendant
who’d been pumping the gas came around the back, arms raised.
“Don’t shoot!”
“That’s okay, boy,
I was talking to these two here,” the trooper said. “I think we just flushed ourselves out two
spies.”
He kept his gun
trained on the man at the front. Billy
came running up behind him.
“I called the
barracks on the radio!”
“Good job! You and the boy here take my handcuffs and put
them on our friend here while I keep a bead on him.”
#
Billy was sucking down
the last of his RC Cola as he listened from his corner in the barracks.
“Your hunch was
right, those tanks are full of helium, not acetylene,” said a CSS agent. “They were planning to sneak the helium to New
Orleans in truckloads.”
“I wasn’t much of
a hunch,” the trooper said. “The kraut
was smoking. No welder smokes around
acetylene.”
He nodded to
August. “Besides, it was the kid who
noticed the truck. You were right, he’d notice
we’d otherwise overlook.”
Another CSS agent
spoke up. “Still, that’s only a fraction
of the airship’s helium in those tanks.”
“There’s probably
a bunch of other trucks already on the road,” August said.
“All the roads are
being watched,” the CSS agent said. “We’ll get them.”
“What about my
ship?” asked August.
“The spy says it’s
hidden in a tobacco barn in Franklin County,” the agent said.
“A tobacco barn?”
“Yes, it’s long
enough to hold it. They brought it flat on the ground and dragged it in. That’s
all that was needed, they never planned to fly it out.”
“Bastards! They probably banged it all to hell,” August
snarled.
A florid face
interposed itself between the two men.
“Don’t worry,
Charlie, we’ll have you back up in the air in no time!”
The CSS agent drew
back. “President Long!”
“Took a quick
flight over from Baton Rouge to offer my personal congratulations,” said the
Greater Texas President as he shook August’s hand.
The Captain
sniffed at the fumes. “It’s really
because of the help of the Mississippi state troopers, and also my young
apprentice airman over there.”
“Yes, and I have
already telegraphed my thanks to President Bilbo,” Long said. “Is that the boy I read about? The boy who hauled you out of the river when
they gave you the heave-ho?”
Billy had fallen
sound asleep in the corner.
“It is,” August
said. “Let him sleep. Tomorrow he starts a new life.”
#
“Trey” Greer gazed
from the gondola of the aerostat at Natchez on its bluff above the Mississippi
River.
“This is it,” said
Col. William G. Greer (Ret.) of the Greater Texas Airship Corps. “This is where
I was floating on the raft when the German agents stole the Gov. Ferguson and
threw Captain August overboard.”
“Wow, I’ve never
been here before,” said Billy Greer III. “Y’all caught them the next day. What a story!”
“I fell asleep at
the barracks that night. They brought me home and put me to bed--I never woke
up that night. President Long was in
town, and he gave me a medal at an assembly at school the next day. The Germans never got their helium. It was a
major international incident. General
Goering led the coup that toppled Hitler a few days later.”
“And August took
you aboard the airship as soon as it was relaunched?”
“Sure did. I started
as a cabin boy, and by the time he retired in 1962, I had worked my way up the ranks
to replace him as captain. Between the
two of us, we patrolled the Mississippi River 75 years.”
“What ever
happened to Captain August, anyway?” asked the grandson. “After he left the Airship
Corps, he like disappeared.” The
teenager looked down the Mississippi towards the Gulf of Mexico. “It was like he just went off in an airship
into the clouds.”
Bill Greer stood
next to his grandson. “Nothing quite so
dramatic. He went to live back where he
grew up, which was Minnesota. Nobody
knew he was there. He’d had enough
limelight, he enjoyed the peace and quiet.”
“Minnesota? I
thought he was a Texan!”
“No, he adopted a
new identity when he joined up with Greater Texas. He was making cross country mail runs when
things fell apart because of the pandemic. Texas was looking for top-notch airmen for its
own air force, and he joined up. They offered a good signing bonus, when
they--we --assembled their own air force. Like when you join the foreign legion, he took
a new name.”
He smiled at his
grandson. “He was a Swede from Minnesota. He really didn’t change his name,
just dropped the last part. His full
name was Charles Augustus Lindbergh. When
he joined up with Texas, he just shortened it to Charlie August. When he retired, he went back to living as
Charles Lindbergh in Little Falls, Minnesota.
He passed away 20 years ago.”
The shadow of the
aerostat seemed as long as Natchez atop the river’s bluff.
“Wow, I didn’t
know that! I wonder what would have
happened if he had stayed in the U.S. and flew airplanes instead?” Trey asked.
“Who knows? He probably would have flown the mail run 10,
20 years or until he crashed. Airplane pilots
are a dime a dozen.”
The retired
colonel smiled an almost childish grin as they passed by Natchez.
“He never would
have been The Captain of the Clouds!”
The old man looked
down, and for a second – just for a second – he thought he saw a homemade raft
floating across the Mississippi.
-The
End-
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