The question had come as a complete surprise, and Memling’s reaction was automatic:
‘Of course I do. It’s…’
The doctor held up a hand. ‘No need to go into the matter now. If you want my advice, you will listen to Dr Simon-Benet. He seems to like you very much, and he has your best interests at heart. He tells me that you have a decision to make, one that may place you in a stressful situation similar to the one that appeared to be your undoing last autumn. I can only advise you to be certain you are physically strong enough to undertake the activity. If you are not, you cannot expect to deal successfully with the mental and emotional aspects of the problem. Other than that, I can only repeat what the brigadier has already told you. You must face the situation resolved to be the master of your own body. Fear is a powerful weapon, one you can use against an enemy or against yourself. Think it over carefully.’
Hunched uncomfortably in the old Dakota, Memling felt the familiar fear renewing itself. He thought he had mastered it before, after four separate commando raids, only to discover that the excitement of battle was far different from the corrosive agony of illicit activity behind enemy lines.
Captain Reynolds had fallen asleep and Memling was grateful for small favours. The captain had spent the last hour pointing out the errors in Memling’s A-4 rocket analysis with all the smug assurance of an academic whose closest contact with the industrial world had been polite discussions in immaculate conference rooms with executives who hadn’t been near a production floor in years. He had been quick to point out that as science and technology were systems of logic, their application in research, development and manufacturing were bound to follow logical procedures. One had only to list the steps to be taken, isolate those requiring the longest time to complete and arrange the remaining tasks within those parameters. The project would then be completed in the shortest possible time — the sum total of the longest tasks. He was, he admitted modestly, one of Britain’s leading experts in the new discipline called operations research.
‘I am certain, Major’ — Reynolds’s voice dripped superiority — ‘that it must have been difficult to obtain accurate measurements when you were at Peenemunde, but those measurements were, after all, the basis for your subsequent calculations, were they not? Now, if you were out as much as a foot, your estimates would be all skewed towards the minimum, would they not?’
Memling restrained the urge to swear.
‘I understand that you were not graduated from your technical course, so even though you did your best, one must be careful of over reaching oneself, what?’
‘You bloody bastard,’ Memling muttered, but Reynolds did not hear over the engine noise.
‘I do not mean to dwell on your shortcomings, Major Memling, but it is essential that you understand your mistakes so that the divisive debate of the past months can be ended. The payload of the rocket you term A-Four is inconsistent with the measurements you reported. A simple mistake in measuring has apparently led you to conclude that this rocket is incapable of carrying more than a ton, while your mistake with the other, the A-Ten, is of the same magnitude, only in the opposite direction. Why, the very size is…’ He started to say ‘preposterous’, then thought better of it: ‘… extraordinary. A rocket of that size could lift more than thirty metric tons.’
‘I see,’ Memling answered in a thoughtful voice. ‘You dismiss my estimates as nonsense but agree with the committee’s analysis which suggests the A-Four is capable of carrying ten tons of explosive as far as London?’
‘Well, yes of course. It was my analysis that corrected your figures, you know.’
‘And your analysis was made strictly from photographs — photographs, I might point out, neither detailed nor clear enough to enable Bomber Command to pinpoint targets — yet you arrived at accurate figures on which you then based your assumptions?’
‘Well, of course. I estimated the actual weight of each major component and used sophisticated statistical and mathematical modelling techniques, naturally.’ The captain’s voice was full of confidence as he warmed to his subject in the face of Memling’s unexpected interest.
‘For example, you estimated the weight of the fuel tanks based on their fabrication in steel. You must realise, old boy, that the use of steel in such a situation is illogical. Weight is everything in the rocket. Steel is far too heavy. Aluminium, which possesses sufficient strength, would provide a great weight saving. Also, and this is my greatest point of disagreement with you, old man, you suggested the rocket fuel consists of a mixture of alcohol and liquid oxygen. My dear fellow, that would be equally ridiculous.’ The captain chuckled to himself.
