DOWN below there was only a vast
white undulating sea of cloud. Above
there was the sun, and the sun was
white like the clouds, because it is
never yellow when one looks at it
from high in the air.
He was still flying the Spitfire. His
right hand was on the stick, and he was
working the rudder bar with his left
leg alone. It was quite easy. The
machine was flying well, and he knew
what he was doing.
Everything is fine, he thought. I'm
doing all right. I'm doing nicely. I
know my way home. I'll be there in
half an hour. When I land I shall taxi in
and switch off my engine and I shall
say, help me to get out, will you. I
shall make my voice sound ordinary
and natural and none of them will take
any notice. Then I shall say, someone
help me to get out. I can't do it alone
because I've lost one of my legs.
They'll all laugh and think that I'm
joking, and I shall say, all right, come
and have a look, you unbelieving
bastards. Then Yorky will climb up
onto the wing and look inside. He'll
probably be sick because of all the
blood and the mess. I shall laugh and
say, for God's sake, help me out.
He glanced down again at his right
leg. There was not much of it left.
The cannon shell had taken him
on the thigh, just above the knee, and
now there was nothing but a great
mess and a lot of blood. But there was
no pain. When he looked down, he felt
as though he were seeing something
that did not belong to him. It had
nothing to do with him. It was just a
mess which happened to be there in the
cockpit; something strange and
unusual and rather interesting. It was
like finding a dead cat on the sofa.
He really felt fine, and because he
still felt fine, he felt excited and
unafraid.
I won't even bother to call up on the
radio for the blood wagon, he thought.
It isn't necessary. And when I land I'll
sit there quite normally and say, some
of you fellows come and help me out,
will you, because I've lost one of my
legs. That will be funny. I'll laugh a
little while I'm saying it; I'll say it
calmly and slowly, and they'll think I'm
joking. When Yorky comes up onto
the wing and gets sick, I'll say, Yorky,
you old son of a bitch, have you fixed
my car yet? Then when I get out I'll
make my report and later I'll go up to
London. I'll take that half bottle of
whisky with me and I'll give it to
Bluey. We'll sit in her room and drink it. I'll get the water out
of the bathroom tap. I won't say much until it's time to go to bed,
then Ill say, Bluey, I've got a surprise for you. I
lost a leg today. But I don't mind so
long as you don't. It doesn't even hurt.
We'll go everywhere in cars. I always
hated walking, except when I walked
down the street of the coppersmiths in
Bagdad, but I could go in a rickshaw. I
could go home and chop wood, but the head always flies off the ax.
Hot water, that's what it needs; put it in the bath
and make the handle swell. I chopped
lots of wood last time I went home,
and I put the ax in the bath. . . .
