Читать книгу Grandpa’s Great Escape - David Walliams, Quentin Blake, David Walliams - Страница 18

From the back of the classroom, Jack dived in to defend his grandfather. “Miss, it’s best you don’t keep on interrupting by asking questions…”

“But this is a history lesson! We need facts! facts! facts!” replied Miss Verity.

“Just please let the Wing Commander finish his story, Miss, and we can get to all those later.”

“Very well,” muttered the history teacher, grasping her red chalk in readiness. “Please carry on, Mr Bunting.”

“Thank you, madam,” said Grandpa. “Now, where was I?”

It was clear the poor old man had lost his thread. It was a good job that his grandson knew this story so well. He had heard this particular tale of derring-do hundreds of times but never tired of it. Jack prompted his grandfather. “You saw the first Messerschmitt, and gave the order to—”

“DIVE! That’s right, man! As soon as my squadron of Spitfires descended through the clouds, we realised that this would be the fight of our lives.” Grandpa’s eyes lit up. He was back in the moment as if it was yesterday. “The radar had estimated a hundred planes in total. This looked more like two hundred! One hundred Junkers, and as many Messerschmitts. As for us, we had just twenty-seven Spitfires.”

The children were enraptured. Miss Verity was busy scribbling up her precious facts facts facts on the blackboard – like how many aircraft on each side – in an array of multicoloured chalks. As soon as she had finished, she switched back to red chalk (for dates only) and opened her mouth as if she were about to speak. But before she could say a word, the entire class went, “SHUSH!”

Grandpa was on a roll now. All the children were eating out of his hand. “I pressed on my machine guns and the battle commenced. It was thrilling and terrifying in equal measure. The sky was filled with bullets, smoke and fire.

Bang!

I hit my first Messerschmitt. The Luftwaffe pilot parachuted out.

Bang!

And another!

“Our mission that day was to take down the Junkers. They were the deadly ones. Each one of those bombers was carrying tonnes of explosives. If we didn’t stop them, their bombs would be raining down on the men, women and children of London. Up in the skies, the battle raged for what seemed like hours. The RAF must have shot down fifty enemy aircraft that day,” continued Grandpa. “Many of the other Luftwaffe planes were so badly damaged, they had to retreat back across the Channel quick smart. My squadron returned to base that day as heroes.”

All the children in the class burst into wild applause.

“HOORAY!”