May the 10th 1941. We're at an airfield in a various southern Germany. In the

evening light a lone man walks across the runway. He does his best to appear

confident, natural and remarkable. He's a bag of nerves. He's about to embark on

one of the most extraordinary adventures of World War II, one that will break all

the rules. He boards a meshesmith 110. With twin engines this fighter has a

longer range than most. Just to be sure extra fuel tanks have been fitted. A special

radar set has been adapted to aid navigation. Let the flying suits are in short

supply these days. This pilot pulling Nazi rank has managed to procure one. It's a

two-seater aircraft but this man will be flying solo. His thousand mile mission is

top secret. So secret but no one else knows about it. No one. At 5.45 pm the

meshesmith takes off. The pilot checks his flight plan against the weather

station in Hamburg. All is good. Within a couple of hours he's eased his plane

over the freezing islands, heading out over the North Sea. Later with night

falling and amists whirling he crosses Bambera Head in northeast England. German

fighters are rare this far north. Three spitfires are scrambled. He avoids them

skillfully, swooping down low, jacked up on dexidrin to keep them alert. From

here he hedge hops, 11 more than 50 feet from the ground, skimming the furtries of

the Scottish boards at 250 miles an hour. In the dark this is quite some feet.

Around 10.30 pm he sees moonlight clint on water. It's a recognizable reservoir as

a country house beneath him done gavill castle. Running on empty now the pilot

climbs to 6,000 feet and flips the plane over. He yanks back the canopy and

unbuckles the straps. Failing out is the one thing he's not been able to

...