Filtering through the darkness, pale moonlight cast down on the silent farms and fields of Hampton County. While most of the English countryside slept through the quiet spring night, twelve year old Harry Winslow stirred in his bed. Awakened by a frightening nightmare, Harry tossed and turned, unable to fall back to sleep. Impatiently, the young boy waited for morning to come.
Finally, Harry noticed his room begin to brighten. Outside he heard roosters crow and a growing chorus of chirping songbirds. When sunlight spilled through his window, Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Night was over and a new day had arrived.
Short of sleep, Harry slowly climbed out from under his warm blankets and sat up on the edge of his bed. He rubbed his tired eyes and thought about his nightmare. Even though the ominous dream had been vivid enough to keep him up most the night, Harry could hardly make sense of it. Yet, convinced the nightmare was warning him about something, he tried his best to remember every detail.
But, Harry's thoughts shifted to breakfast when his house filled with the inviting smell of baked bread. Hungry from a restless night, he quickly reached for his clothes to get dressed. Still buttoning his shirt, Harry stumbled down the stairs and stepped into the kitchen.
Standing at the stove, Harry's mother was busy frying eggs. On the countertop next to her lay a plate stacked with steaming sausages and browned toast. Harry's empty stomach rumbled. Thankfully the kitchen table was already set, waiting for him.
"Good morning, little mister," Mrs. Winslow greeted Harry in a cheerful voice.
"Morning, Mom," Harry yawned while sitting down at the table.
Harry's mother couldn't help notice her son's drowsy tone and asked, "Did you sleep well, love?"
"No, I didn't," Harry complained. "I had the oddest nightmare about Captain Dawson. In my dream he was a lamb lost in the field. Then a wolf pounced and grabbed him by the throat. I wanted to help, but I didn't know what to do. Luckily, the wolf let him go, but it frightened me so much, I woke up. After that, I couldn't get back to sleep." Harry scratched his head and mumbled, "I wish Dad was home, he could tell me what it all means."
Finished at the stove, Mrs. Winslow filled a plate with eggs and sausages and set it in front of Harry. Trying to console her son, she replied, "It was just a bad dream, sweetheart. I think maybe you've been spending too much time with Captain Dawson and the rest of your pilots on the airfield."
Hampton Airfield bordered the Winslow farm. Fascinated by the Royal Air Force squadron stationed there, Harry was a frequent visitor to the base. The Squadron Leader, Captain Dawson, and the rest of the pilots had become quite important to the young boy.
Harry bit into his food and thought about his mother's remark. He knew she didn't always approve of the time he spent around the airfield. But what did a nightmare about lambs and wolves have to do with pilots and fighter planes? In Harry's mind, Hampton Airfield wasn't about nightmares, it stood for things like friendship, courage and honor.
Trying to avoid an argument, Harry quickly changed the subject. "Where's Sis?" he asked.
"Susan left for the airfield already," Mrs. Winslow sighed. "She's been spending a lot of time there lately. Either Colonel Harrison is working her too hard, or she's found something quite interesting."
Harry's older sister, Susan, worked at Hampton Airfield as Colonel Harrison's secretary. She enjoyed helping the Colonel administer the daily operation of the airbase, but it also gave her an opportunity to keep an eye on Harry.
At the mention of Hampton Airfield, Harry noticed the morning sunshine pouring through the kitchen window. The day was bright and clear. With good weather he knew the pilots would soon be scrambling to their fighter planes, ready to defend England.
Eager to join his RAF friends at the airfield, Harry hurried with his breakfast. A familiar sight, Mrs. Winslow shook her head while watching her son race through his food.
Hoping to slow him down, his mother divulged, "Harry, love, I have a surprise. I've been waiting for the right time to give it to you. Maybe it will help you forget about that nightmare you had."
Excited, Harry quickly swallowed and asked, "What is it, Mom?"
Mrs. Winslow stepped to the cupboard, pulled out a box, and handed it to Harry. Harry ripped open the lid. When he looked inside, his eyes grew wide as saucers. Reaching in, he slowly pulled a white silk aviator's scarf from the box. Mrs. Winslow had sewn it by hand, and her work was exceptional.
"Mother, this is fantastic! No, it's magnificent! Thank you!" Harry shouted while wrapping the soft scarf around his neck.
Mrs. Winslow smiled at the heartfelt compliment from her son. "I'm glad you like it, dear. I made one for your pilot friend, Captain Dawson, too. After all, he's practically family. I hope it helps keep him warm when he is flying. You will give it to him for me, won't you?"
"Of course I will," Harry assured her. "He'll love his as much as I love mine."
Harry enjoyed the extra attention from his mother. The present she made was wonderful and indeed helped him forget his bad dream. Even better, thanks to her, he had something special to give Captain Dawson.
Harry gulped the very last of his breakfast and asked, "When I finish my chores can..."
"Yes, love, you can," Mrs. Winslow interrupted. "When you finish your chores you can go see your pilots."
