The Last Airship

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It was exactly twenty three days since Germany had invaded Poland, setting into motion the largest war the world had ever seen.

Peter Greenstein looked up at the giant in the clearing. Like a dark cloud in the night sky, she created an ominous silhouette above the opening in the already obscured forest of the moonless night. He had waited almost two weeks for the arrival of the dark moon. It had very nearly been too long, and might have easily cost all of them their lives.

She was a magnificent ship, exquisite to her core.

He had her built exclusively for use by the wealthiest people of her time. The Magdalena stood thirty feet high and one hundred eighty-five feet in length, only slightly shorter in length than a transatlantic Zeppelin. Her lines were more sleek and her propellers proportionately larger, making her the fastest airship ever built.

He was proud of her.

She was the greatest achievement of his fifty two years of life.

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