Category Archives: Stories

The Bridge

The briefing was short in the early morning, they had to carry out the mission alone, the target was a medieval stone bridge. It was a massive, well-built bridge, with a history of several centuries, and the masters of that time did such a good job that the bridge could even now withstand an assault detachment of light tanks and troop transport trucks. That is why it had to be destroyed. The scouts had already signaled an enemy column that would cross the bridge, around noon.

Carpet bombing with a whole squadron was unnecessary, a single bomber with a reliable crew seemed sufficient. A low approach to the target, then the bombs were released exactly above the bridge.

All the bombardier had to do until the target was reached was to check the aiming device and the bomb bay lights.

He noticed them when they were almost at their destination. They were heading for the bridge, up the road, which was lined with trees on both sides, so he noticed them only at the last moment. In front was a small donkey-drawn cart, with suitcases and all sorts of travel gear thrown on it, and children sitting on top, barely moving, in silence. When they saw the bomber approaching them, they hesitated, waved, or made themselves as small as possible. The huge machine was an imposing sight to the children’s eyes, its sound, like a thousand bands playing at full power, was beautiful and at the same time terrifying.

A tall man was walking next to the cart, apparently leading the escapees, behind him in a long line were older children holding their mothers’ hands, and little ones sitting on their fathers’ necks, tired, fleeing people, there might have been one or two hundred of them.

“First Officer! People on the bridge. Civilians, refugees, women, children. I have to wait for them to get across.”

“Bombardment officer! Carry out the order, immediately!”

“First Officer! People on the bridge, I repeat civilian refugees, children on the bridge.”

“Bombardier! You risk court-martial, I hope you know that. Carry out the order immediately, drop the bombs!”

The bombardier looked into the sights, they were in just the right position. The man leading the procession looked up at the plane and slowed down. At that moment, he knew that they were all going to die, there was no point in running forward or backward. So close to freedom, all hope was gone. He closed his eyes and waited for the whistling of the falling bombs and the sound of the explosions.

“First Officer! We’ve flown past the optimal position, so there’s no point in dropping the bombs, most of them will fall near the bridge and on land. We have to fly over the bridge again.”

“Captain, you won’t get out of this alive. There are anti-aircraft batteries on the other side, camouflaged, it’s a matter of seconds before they start shooting at us.”

“Turret shooter!”

” Yes, captain!”

“Go down to the bombardier officer and force him to carry out the order!”

“Yes sir, I understand.”

The turret gunner climbed down from the firing position, took out his weapon, and cocked it.

Down on the bridge, since the expected quick death seemed to have been postponed for the time being, the leader of the escapees was the first to realize that perhaps hope was not lost after all. If the bomber had not dropped the bombs, there was a reason for that, and now they might have a few minutes to get off the bridge. He turned back and motioned to those following him to run forward, off the bridge, as fast as possible, he also urged the little donkey to run, and it seemed to understand what was going on, and it set off at a rapid pace with the cart, off the bridge.

The bombardier looked into the aiming device again, the crosshairs were exactly in the center of the bridge, an ideal position. The people running on the bridge, the little cart had already crossed, but quite a few were still on the bridge. His hand was on the bomb chamber release lever, but he had not yet released the bombs.

“Captain! Open the bomb bay!” the turret gunner stood behind him, his pistol cocked and loaded.

The bomb disposal officer glanced back, slowly took his pistol from its holster, and very carefully, signaling to the other that he had no intention of using it, placed it on the floorboard beside him. He clasped his hands behind his back and surrendered.

The gunner hesitated, knowing that the bombardier would not obey him, and that if he shot him down, the bridge would remain intact. He put his gun away and said to the bombardier, “Do as you see fit, Captain.” Then he went up to the turret to prepare for the expected anti-aircraft fire.

The first officer saw that the bridge was still standing, and he knew that the delay had probably caused them to overshoot the ideal position again. He instructed the navigator to make another turn.

The anti-aircraft guns then began to fire. The bomber responded to the attack with evasive maneuvers, and the gunners began to fire at the now clearly visible batteries.

The bombardier leaned over the aiming device again. The bridge was now clear, all the escapees were on the other side, safe. He waited until the plane had passed over the bridge, inserted a straight section between the evasive maneuvers, placed his hand on the release lever, and now finally released the bombs.

The rain of bombs rained down on the bridge, the stone bridge collapsed into the water very quickly, only a few stumps stuck out of the water, the stumps of the pillars.

“First Officer! Mission accomplished. The bridge is destroyed.”

“Navigator! Steep climb, heading for the base.”

“Bombardier officer! I’m thinking of skinning you alive, or will a court-martial suffice?”

“Yes, sir,” the bombardier replied. He looked out of the plane, and there were refugees below, some waving, some saluting, a man kneeling and praying.

The bombardier raised his hand and, although he knew no one could see it, he gestured towards the group below.

The gray puffs of smoke appeared closer and closer to the plane, the air defense tried to shoot down the fleeing plane, but the steep climb and the plane fleeing at full speed slowly left the puffs of smoke behind, and quite a few of the anti-aircraft guns also fell silent thanks to the precise work of the gunners.

A new name has been added to the list of bomber glory, the name of a bridge, which will henceforth always be painted on the side of the plane.

Why it was necessary to fly to the target three times was not included in the mission report.

And no member of the crew objected to this.

The deployment was described in later reports as a routine, uneventful mission that ended in complete success with no casualties.

Nyíregyháza, June 4, 2024

Hide and Seek

The animals decided to play hiding. They rarely have time to play, but now they’ve got it.

They all hid themselves, in carefully selected, excellent hiding places. Then they waited.

After a while, as nothing happened, they realized that they had again forgotten to choose a seeker, so there was no one to find them. Because they didn’t want to simply come out, they waited.

Fortunately, the badger just finished his afternoon nap, came out of his lair and looked around. Being individualist, he hated hide-and-seek, and being intelligent, not seeing any animal in the woods, and as the silence was great, he realized that the others were playing hide-and-seek, and they hadn’t chosen a seeker again.

He sighed a big one, then began to find them unhurriedly.

André Cook fotója a Pexels oldaláról

The Secret of Happy Life

– What is the secret of happy life? – asked the swallow once the badger.

– Never be anything other than what you are. – the badger replied.

The swallow thought about it so hard that he flew into a pole that made him dizzy and he could only fly after half an hour.

The badger learned something from this also. When later the fox asked him the same question, he replied so:

– Never be anything other than what you are. But do not think about it even for a minute, because you go like the swallow who flew into a pole.

– But I can’t fly. – said the fox.

– That’s right, – the badger said, – but you can also fall into a pit.

– Hmmm… – the fox said, trying not to think about the response of the badger.

The Owl

Once said the owl to the badger:

– You badger, I’m sorry for you, it must be so boring to be always on the ground. I can fly, but if I want I can walk down too, I have a very interesting life, while you have just the ground.

– What you see as an owl is just a thin slice of reality. I close my eyes and I can go to places you will never get to. If I have to, I fly, when I have to, I fall, if I have to, I float on the water or dive or visit the stars.

– Oh come on badger, you know it’s just imagination, fantasy, illusion. It has nothing to do with reality.

– I haven’t thought it so yet. When I was too close to the Sun last time, I felt the heat, it was real for me.

– You just mislead yourself, I know you’re just a boring badger while I am a majestic owl.

The badger closed his eyes and said only that:

– Let’s fly to the neighboring forest! You haven’t started yet, but I’m already there.

mali maeder fotója a Pexels oldaláról