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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/29774-8.txt b/29774-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..41f6181 --- /dev/null +++ b/29774-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5145 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, A Yankee Flier Over Berlin, by Al Avery, +Illustrated by Paul Laune + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: A Yankee Flier Over Berlin + + +Author: Al Avery + + + +Release Date: August 23, 2009 [eBook #29774] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A YANKEE FLIER OVER BERLIN*** + + +E-text prepared by Mark C. Orton, Mary Meehan, and the Project Gutenberg +Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 29774-h.htm or 29774-h.zip: + (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/29774/29774-h/29774-h.htm) + or + (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/29774/29774-h.zip) + + + + + +A YANKEE FLIER OVER BERLIN + +by + +AL AVERY + +Illustrated by Paul Laune + + + + + + + +Grosset & Dunlap +Publishers : : New York + +Copyright, 1944, by +Grosset & Dunlap, Inc. +All Rights Reserved + +Printed in the United States of America + + + + + +_For_ +LARRY SOUTHWICKE + + + +[Illustration: BOOKS ARE WEAPONS IN THE WAR OF IDEAS] + +A WARTIME BOOK + +THIS COMPLETE EDITION IS PRODUCED IN FULL COMPLIANCE WITH THE +GOVERNMENT'S REGULATIONS FOR CONSERVING PAPER AND OTHER ESSENTIAL +MATERIALS. + + +[Illustration: THE SPITFIRE STAYED WITH STAN UNTIL THE SPEEDBOAT PULLED +ALONGSIDE.] + + + + +CONTENTS + + I RUGGED GOING + II ACTION + III HULS + IV SCOUTING MISSION + V HIDDEN DROMES + VI PRISONER + VII ESCAPE + VIII FLIGHT + IX TRAPPED + X SPY + XI MUSTANG + XII ZERO HOUR + XIII SPY HUNT + + + + +A YANKEE FLIER OVER BERLIN + + + + +CHAPTER I + +RUGGED GOING + + +The Commanding Colonel stared at the big map with its red ribbons +marking air trails to and from targets. He was spotting the exact point +where his Third Fighter group would have to turn back and leave the big +Fortresses and Liberators to go it alone into the concentrated defenses +of Germany. + +Weather Officer Miller looked glumly at the map as Colonel Holt placed +his finger on a spot. + +"6/10 cloud over station six." Station six was a Luftwaffe fighter +field. + +The colonel scowled and shook his head. "Are the big boys going out?" + +"Yes, sir. Conditions over target are very good." Weather grinned when +he said it. + +"We won't get much of a whack at the Jerries," the colonel said rather +testily. + +"The Forts and Libs will make it through," Weather said with a lot of +cockiness. He was beginning to act like the rest of the gang around +headquarters who believed that the Forts and the Libs could go it alone +all the way and shoot down any number of fighters the Germans could send +up. Colonel Holt was a strong supporter for fighter cover. He was +battling for a flock of longer-range fighters that could accompany the +big fellows all the way to Berlin. The way things were going he might +not be escorting at all within a few weeks. His Third Fighter Command +might be on scouting duty. + +"We'll see what can be done about it," he said as he turned away. + +The colonel walked out of the high-ceilinged room which was buried under +thirty feet of steel reinforced concrete. He came up out of the building +into a drab night. A raw wind stabbed at him, and sent light clouds +scudding across the face of the moon. Overhead, a night fighter growled +its way through the lonely sky. The country spread around the base was +flat with only a few hills to break the sameness. + +Out on the dispersal area Colonel Holt could see guards watching the +shadowy forms of the Thunderbolts. A jeep came chugging up a muddy +street and turned off toward the mess barracks. At one-five in the +morning the base looked peaceful enough. Sheltered by darkness, its mud +ruts and half-finished buildings were softened by the gloom. Still +scowling, the colonel strode away. + +Several hours later, in a tunnel-shaped hut with a corrugated iron roof +and a cement floor, two fliers sat near a wood stove. Stan Wilson was +poking wood into the stove. + +"I wonder if anyone ever kept one of these gadgets burning all night," +he said sourly. + +"Sure, an' 'tis against the rules," Lieutenant O'Malley said and +grinned. + +"I'm beginning to think Allison showed good sense in running out on us +and joining a bomber outfit," Stan growled. "Here we are sitting up all +night keeping this stove poked full of wood." + +"That big bum," O'Malley snorted. "Only today he said that he's livin' +in a palace with a sure-enough butler to buttle." O'Malley shook his +head sadly. "The spalpeen says that butler can sure bake a foine pie." + +"On top of that we get to fly Thunderbolts for the fun of it." Stan +jabbed a slab of wood into the stove and slammed the door. + +"We've jest been havin' bad luck," O'Malley said. "I can stand a Nissen +hut jest to be flyin' one o' them babies. We'll meet up with plenty o' +Jerries." O'Malley grinned eagerly, his homely face lighting up. +"Remember how we used to mix it with them Jerry bandits tryin' to blitz +London?" + +"That was a long time ago, as wars count time," Stan answered. "We've +been away a long time. The Jerries don't get near London any more, and I +heard a rumor that the Forts and Libs are able to shoot down ten +fighters for every one the Thunderbolts get." + +O'Malley snorted. "Bombers shoot down Me 109's and FW 190's! 'Tis jest +propaganda put out by the brass hats to fool the Germans. I'll have to +see it done, me b'y." + +"From what I hear we'll probably have a reserved seat for the show. We +sit up there and watch." Stan smiled. "But we can always elbow in and +fly a Fortress or a Liberator." + +"Not me," O'Malley declared. "I'm no good at flying a milk wagon. I'll +handle me own guns." + +"Tomorrow will tell the tale. We're to get our first whack at Jerry in +this new job," Stan said. + +"Sure, an' I'd go to bed an' forget it, but the minnit I get me eyes +closed this stove goes out an' I'm freezin'," O'Malley growled. "I don't +think we'll be goin' any place. Them brass hats meet at Operation +Headquarters an' the generals call in Weather. Weather squints out +through a porthole an' says, '6/10 cloud over target.' Then the generals +up an' go back to bed." + +"We sure miss a lot of missions because of bad weather," Stan admitted. +"One of these days some fellow will invent a seeing eye sight that will +look right through the clouds." + +"You been readin' the funny books too much lately," O'Malley said. + +"Missed any of yours?" Stan laughed as he glanced toward a pile of comic +books stacked beside O'Malley's cot. + +"I think our dog robber's been snitchin' a few." O'Malley yawned and +stretched his arms over his head. They were long bony arms with huge +hands attached to them. + +"Weren't you in Berlin before the war?" Stan asked. + +"Sure," O'Malley answered. "Bein' a son of good auld Ireland, I was +itchin' to get into a fight an' it looked like the Jerries were the only +ones preparin' to do anything." + +"Why didn't you stay over there?" Stan grinned broadly as he spoke. "I +hear there are pretty girls in Berlin and that their mammas can bake +swell pies." + +O'Malley sighed deeply at the mention of pie. His big Adam's apple +bobbed up and down, then his wide mouth clamped shut. + +"Sure, an' I don't like bein' pushed around, an' I don't like to see +other folks kicked an' slugged by a lot of spalpeens dressed up in brown +shirts." + +"You may get to wave to that girl when we fly over Berlin," Stan said. + +"I could go straight to her house, only she lives a ways out of Berlin. +We used to go ridin' in the country on our bikes. Ivery lane we'd ride +down some guy in a storm trooper uniform would stop us. I kept pawin' +out me Luftwaffe card all o' the time." O'Malley grinned. + +"So you got out and joined up with the British and then with us." Stan +poked another stick of wood into the stove. + +O'Malley yawned again and eyed his cot. "If you insist on keepin' the +fire goin', I'll catch me a couple o' winks o' sleep." + +"I'll keep the joint warm," Stan agreed. + +O'Malley went over to his cot. He kicked off his shoes and crawled under +the blankets fully dressed. + +The minutes dragged away and Stan nodded beside the stove. An hour +passed and he roused himself to poke in more wood. He dozed off again +and was roused by an orderly making the rounds calling the crews. The +stove was cold and he fumbled with stiff fingers as he lighted it again. +When it was cherry red in spots, O'Malley poked his tousled head out +from under a blanket. Stan knew he had been lying there waiting for the +stove to get hot. + +They dashed water over their faces and hurried out into the raw morning. +Stan glanced at his watch. It was four o'clock. They walked to the +briefing room where they joined a crowd of pilots who were seated on +benches staring at a square of transparent talc pinned over a wall map. +Red lines showed the route of the Forts and Libs. Soon a sleepy buzz of +conversation filled the air. As the pilots talked, they watched the +little group of officers gathered before the map. + +Suddenly the Old Man, Colonel Holt, turned and faced them. There was an +immediate hush. + +"A lot of people think we just go along with the bombers to catch a bit +of fresh air and to keep from going stale. This mission promised to be +our chance to crack the enemy, but unfortunately, Weather reports clouds +up to our return point." The Old Man stared unwinkingly at his men. He +read the disappointment in their faces. "We are hoping that for once +Weather will be wrong." + +This brought a few grins and a snort or two from the pilots. The Old Man +went on talking. + +"You are to fly formation as planned. This will be strictly a team job. +There will be no free-lance hunting. Understand?" + +Everyone looked glum. O'Malley scowled. It was not his nature to like +strict rules. He had learned what he knew in the days of the Battle of +Britain and later in the South Pacific and then over Africa and Italy. +O'Malley always had been a rip-roaring fighter who accepted battle +against any odds. If trouble did not come his way, he went looking for +it. + +Stan wondered if that last warning was not aimed at O'Malley and +himself. All of the other fliers were trained to this sort of fighting. +Stan and O'Malley were the only old heads in the flight. + +O'Malley and Stan marched out with the others and climbed into heavy +flying suits. The Thunderbolts were high fliers and worked best at +twenty-three thousand feet or more. That meant heavy equipment with +oxygen and all of the other trappings, including heated undergarments. + +The pilots waddled out to their planes and climbed up. Ground crews +moved back. They had serviced and checked the fighters and now their +Pratt and Whitney twin bank radial engines were turning over smoothly. +Exhausts flared blue flames which sent wavering shadows across the wet +cement of the apron. Flight Officer Mickle was running about like an old +hen with a scattered brood of chicks. + +Stan glanced down the wet and gleaming runway. An Aldis lamp winked down +toward the shadow bar. Stan eased himself back against the shock pad. He +glanced at his temperature gauge and across his instrument board. The +throb of his Pratt and Whitney engine hinted at power, though it was +rolling over smoothly and effortlessly. Stan remembered other nights +many months past when he had sat in a Hurricane waiting for the flash of +the lamp and the order from the tower to go up through the blind alley +between the barrage balloon cables to wage unequal war against invading +Germans. Things had changed a lot since then. Now he was a part of the +Eighth Air Force of the United States Army and was fighting for his own +country as well as Britain. + +"Red Flight, check your temperatures." That was the voice of Flight +Leader Sim Jones. + +The boys checked in one at a time. + +"Up to fifteen thousand. Stay in close," Sim ordered. + +Suddenly a motor burst into full-throated roar. A dark form hurtled down +the runway and lifted like a flash. Another ship darted away, and then +another. Stan slammed his hatch cover shut and opened up his throttle. +He jammed down hard on one brake and the Thunderbolt swept around. She +poised an instant, then knifed down the slippery runway. Stan hoiked her +tail with a blast of prop pressure and hopped her off. He went roaring +out over a mobile floodlight and up into the dark sky for the rendezvous +with Red Flight. + +High above the channel, the ships of his flight tucked in and circled. +Soon they picked up the flight of Liberators and Fortresses. At +twenty-five thousand feet the big bombers left broad vapor trails behind +them. Stan looked down upon the killers from his perch in the sky. Dawn +was breaking and the scene was no longer drab. + +Red Flight was covering the flank of Second High Squadron. Stan could +clearly see Third Low Squadron and First Lead Squadron. Each squadron +was composed of a first flight of three bombers and a second flight of +three bombers. Stan grinned. He knew exactly where his pal March Allison +was flying. He was in left-hand slot, second flight, Second High +Squadron, the hottest spot in a bomber formation. + +Stan eased over a bit and shook O'Malley off his wing. Sim was waggling +his wings, ordering the boys to spread out and get set for interception. +Red Flight spread out but stayed in position like a football team moving +into formation for a screen pass. The bombers roared on toward Germany, +keeping tight formation so as to be able to lay out a deadly cross fire +from their fifty-caliber guns. Each Fort and each Lib was a bristling +pillbox with nose guns, waist guns, belly guns, and ball turret guns. +Stan wondered if he would not be flying one of the big fellows very +soon. + +Everything went off smoothly and according to plan, except that for once +Weather had missed a bet. As the flight neared the point over Germany +where the Thunderbolts were to turn back, a cold wind washed the sky +clear of clouds and a cold sun shone upon the raiders. + +"In the good auld summertime." Stan heard O'Malley humming. + +"Shut up, O'Malley," Sim grated. + +Suddenly flak began to blossom out from the countryside below. It +blossomed in the sky over the bombers and in the middle of Red Flight. +Thunderbolts ducked and dipped but went roaring on. + +Down below, the bomber boys were scanning the skies. + +In his Fort, Allison drawled over the intercom, "Pilot to navigator." + +"Go ahead, pilot." + +"Everybody set?" + +"Navigator to pilot, hot stuff coming up." + +"Right waist gunner to pilot, sir. 190's at eleven o'clock. They're +after the flight ahead." + +"Rear gunner Roger, sir. Flock of Focke-Wulfs at six o'clock. Coming in +on our tail." + +"I say, old man, don't get itchy fingers. No ammo to waste." Allison's +voice was calm and unruffled. + +O'Malley's voice broke in over Stan's headset. "Hey, sure an' we ought +to go down an' bust that up." + +"Stay where you are, O'Malley," Sim snapped. "We have plenty of Me's +coming in at twelve o'clock." + +Stan had been so busy watching the bombers he had not checked his own +part of the sky. A glance showed him Sim was correct. A flight of some +twenty Me fighters were diving and circling above. + +"Keep them up there," Sim ordered. "But stay in your slot. You happen to +be outnumbered and you also happen to have the job of seeing that those +Me's stay up there away from the bombers." + +Red Flight knifed along through the thin air, ready to smash any Me +daring to go down the chute upon the bombers. + +"Come on down and fight, ye spalpeens!" O'Malley was yelling. + +Stan saw that the Forts and Libs were slamming lead at the Focke-Wulfs +in a blaze that rivaled a Fourth of July celebration. He kept an eye on +Allison's Fort and saw an FW go down flaming after a thrust at the +bomber. Stan chuckled softly. + +"Allison got one!" O'Malley yelled. "'Tis a sad day, this, for Mrs. +O'Malley's son." + +Allison's Fort got another FW and O'Malley's flow of abuse against the +Me's increased. He was in a towering Irish rage. But it did no good. The +Me's hung on, waiting for the Thunderbolts to turn back. It was a case +of who ran short of gas first. Now "lace-panty" flak was blossoming all +over the sky. It exploded in pretty pink bursts and that was why the +boys gave it such a fancy name. + +"We have to go in," Sim ordered grimly. + +"Go in!" O'Malley bellowed. "Why not give them birds a scare anyway?" + +"We'll zoom up and scatter them," Sim said. "But any man who stays to +put on a show will have to walk back." + +Stan eased over and kicked on a bit more power. The Germans had the +attack route well charted. They knew just how far the Thunderbolts would +be able to penetrate. With a burst of speed Stan went up and over. Every +Thunderbolt did the same, but O'Malley beat them all to it. He roared +over Stan's head, almost ripping away his hatch cover. + +The Me's ducked gracefully and scattered. They looped and dived for it. +Stan saw at once the chase was hopeless. The Jerries meant to tease the +Thunderbolts deeper into Germany so that they would be sure to run out +of gas. It was infuriating, but there just was nothing that could be +done about it. Stan watched O'Malley as he roared after a Jerry. + +"Come back, Irisher. They're just tricking you out of gas," he called. + +"The spalpeens!" O'Malley roared, but he zoomed up and over, then tailed +in after Red Flight which was heading for home. + +Stan saw the Me's dive down to overtake and attack the Forts and Libs. +He had a cold, sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He still was not +convinced that the big fellows could take care of themselves. They had a +hundred miles more to cover before reaching their targets, and then +another hundred to return before fighters could meet them. + +Red Flight slid in on its home field, a sleek flight group in fine trim, +except for one slight wound. Sim's ship had picked up a small piece of +flak, but it had done no damage. Sim had it in his hand when he climbed +down and joined his men. + +"A foine battle!" O'Malley fumed. + +"I was hit," Sim said, grinning. + +"'Tis the fillin' out o' one o' yer teeth," O'Malley answered. + +"I counted eight fighters shot down by the big boys," a pilot remarked. + +"Check in all kills you observed," Sim said. "It will help the bomber +boys get credit." + +O'Malley stared gloomily up into the sky. Stan nudged him. "How about +some breakfast?" he asked. + +O'Malley brightened a bit. "I ordered a pie for breakfast," he said. "If +that cook forgot my pie, he'll be no more than a grease spot when I get +through with him." + +O'Malley got his pie, a thick apple pie dripping with juice. He cut it +into quarters, slid one slab out on his fist and began munching, paying +no attention to the dripping juice. Stan stared into his coffee cup. He +was thinking. + +O'Malley finished his second quarter of pie. He looked at Stan. + +"What you dreamin' up now?" he asked. + +Stan smiled faintly. "You know, I have a hunch we might fool those +Jerries. They have this all down to a science. A flight is reported to +their head man and he figures out just how far we can fly. If we could +do say a hundred miles more, we'd have some fun." + +"So you're goin' to order planes with a hundred more miles gas supply." +O'Malley grunted and attacked his third piece of pie. + +"We could take along emergency tanks and drop them," Stan said. + +O'Malley halted the movement of his hand. His mouth was open like a +cavern. He closed it. + +"Sure, an' 'tis a brilliant idea. We'll see the general about it as soon +as I've finished me pie." + +"No, we'll see Holt. He's our superior officer. Let him have the +credit." Stan leaned back. + +"If we tell a lot o' brass hats, the Jerries will sure hear about it," +O'Malley said sourly. + +"I think not. We have to get permission to install the tanks, you know. +This isn't the South Pacific where you just go to your ground crew and +ask them to rig up something for you." Stan laughed as O'Malley screwed +his face into a frown. + +"I'll say it's not the South Pacific," he agreed. "We got so many rules +here a fellow gets tangled up before he takes off." + +"We have lots of time on our hands. We'll barge over and have Allison +tell us what happened. He'll be back after a bit." + +O'Malley gave Stan a suspicious look. "You're not thinkin' o' askin' fer +one o' them crates full o' guns?" + +"No," Stan answered. "If I did, I doubt that they'd take me. I've been a +fighter pilot too long." + +"They took Allison," O'Malley said. + +"Allison is a natural for bombers, he has no nerves and he can handle a +crew." Stan got to his feet. "Finish your pie and we'll be on our way." + + + + +CHAPTER II + +ACTION + + +Stan and O'Malley found Allison in his comfortable quarters, an old +English mansion set on a little hill. It stood in the middle of +well-kept grounds. As they drove up in their borrowed jeep, O'Malley +scowled at the house. + +"A blinking castle," he said in mock cockney British. + +They parked the jeep and went inside. The boys were gathered around an +open fire lounging in easy chairs. Allison moved out of a huddle and +crossed the room. + +"Welcome, you wallflowers," he said with a big smile. + +"Sure, an' yer a disgrace to the both of us, lollin' in the lap o' +luxury," O'Malley answered with a big grin. + +"How was it?" Stan asked. + +"Very rugged," Allison admitted. "Sit down while I order a pie for +O'Malley." + +The boys seated themselves and Allison described the mission. He loaded +his pipe and sat staring into the fire. + +"Not much like pushing a Spitfire or a Thunderbolt. You just plow along +through the muck and hope the boys will bat down all of the fighters +coming at you from every angle." + +"How many did you get?" O'Malley asked. + +"Six for sure," Allison answered. "The real fun started when we headed +for home. We had been plowing through flak as thick as a swarm of bees +but we had been lucky. Two of our flight went down flaming and we saw +the boys bail out. I thought we were slipping through pretty nicely when +an Me winged us with an explosive cannon shell. After that we got hit +plenty. We picked up a shell which went off inside our outboard engine. +It started rolling smoke but no flames. Then a shell smashed the +intercom system and communications went dead." Allison bit down hard on +his pipe. + +"Must have been tough," Stan said. + +"We couldn't hold our altitude. We lost about a thousand feet a minute +and nothing the copilot and I could do would hold her up." + +"Sure, an' you did a good job of it gettin' in," O'Malley praised. + +"When I couldn't talk to the crew I turned the controls over to the +copilot and went aft. I got to the top turret man and told him to get +the gunners together in the radio compartment. I figured we'd smack +right down into the channel." Allison fingered his pipe and stared into +the fire. + +"I went back to the copilot and we fought her head. She sagged in over +the coast and came right on home, smoking like a torch. As we came in, +we found we had a belly landing on our hands, so we skidded her in. Poor +Old Sal is a mess right now." + +"Anybody hurt?" Stan asked. + +"Bombardier got a piece of flak in his leg. The tail gunner had his +greenhouse blown into his face and is in the hospital. I forgot to say +we dumped our guns and everything else we could pry loose. I guess that +saved us." Allison leaned back. "When you fellows going to shift over? +This is the real thing." + +"Sitting duck stuff," O'Malley snorted. "You jest sit there an' take it. +You never fired a gun on the whole trip." + +"No," Allison admitted. "But we bagged six Jerries and there was plenty +of shooting. You should see my boys work those 50's." + +"We aim to stir up a bit of excitement," Stan said. + +Allison frowned at him. "You birds better remember this is modern +warfare, not the Battle of Britain or the Pacific. They'll bounce you +high and quick for breaking rules. This Eighth Air Force is big stuff +now." + +"Thanks for the warning," Stan answered. "But we plan to go through +proper channels." + +"And it's a deep secret," O'Malley added. + +O'Malley's pie arrived and he dropped out of the talk for a time. Stan +and Allison chatted about the changes and the amazing way the Eighth had +grown up until it took a large section of British farmland to house it. + +Stan and O'Malley left early and hurried back to their own mess. They +wanted to corner Colonel Holt. They found him in the mess looking very +dour and gloomy. He was alone. None of the other men seemed to care +about trying to cheer him up. Stan and O'Malley barged over to his +table. + +"May we sit down, sir?" Stan asked. + +"Sure." Holt motioned to two chairs. + +The boys sat down. Stan ordered coffee and O'Malley ordered pie. + +"I need just a bite to get me in shape for supper," he said when Stan +glared at him as he gave his order. + +"Lousy show today," Holt grumbled. "I don't mean the way you fellows +flew it, but the way the Germans have everything figured out so neatly. +We lost eleven bombers." + +"We might fool Jerry," Stan suggested. + +"How?" + +"Suppose we just toted along some extra tanks of gas and cut them loose +about the time the show should start. We know their tactics and pattern. +We'd have a lot of fun." Stan leaned forward. + +"Can't do that," Holt said. "You fellows might have to get busy as soon +as you hit the coast. Kicking off a tank can't be done with an FW +dropping out of a cloud on your tail." + +"Just half of us will go with extra loads. The others can cover for us. +We'd sure surprise Jerry." Stan spoke eagerly. + +"Foine idea an' one I'd have been proud to have thought up," O'Malley +broke in. + +Colonel Holt began to smile. "I believe you have something there. The +element of surprise and all that sort of thing. We'll take a crack at +it." + +"Elegant," O'Malley said. "I'm speaking for extra gas." + +"You and O'Malley get extra tanks. You're both old heads at lone wolf +tactics. I'm beginning to think we have too much handling out of the +control room." He bent forward and his smile faded. "But, remember this, +I'm under a general who's a stickler for the book, so be careful." + +"We won't let you down, sir," Stan promised. + +O'Malley just grinned wolfishly. "I got a date with that Jerry with the +red beard." + +"You boys tend to the installing yourselves. Oversee it yourselves. I'll +put through an order clearing everything for you." + +"Thanks, Colonel," Stan said. "Now we'll run along and get busy." + +"First you come with me and we'll figure out how much tank capacity +you'll need and how many men will go along." The colonel got to his +feet. + +"If you don't mind, sir, we'd like to have you sponsor the idea. We +intended to take it up with Lieutenant Sim Jones first. Wouldn't want to +be going over his head." Stan spoke quickly. + +Holt looked at him and nodded. "That's fine of you boys. Mind if I claim +the idea for the present?" + +"Not in the least," Stan answered. + +"In that case you'll hear from me later through regular channels. I see +you men know your way around in this army." + +Stan and O'Malley saluted and moved off. O'Malley grinned. "Slick work, +Stan," he said. "Now we won't get blamed for anything." + +"And we won't get a medal, either," Stan remarked as he matched +O'Malley's grin. + +Returning to their Nissen hut the boys policed their living quarters and +got things in order. The hut was such a primitive affair that little +could be done to keep it in order. The round wood stove leaked ashes on +the floor which was always tracked deep with mud. There was a little +wash bowl and a table which O'Malley used to stack his laundry upon. The +cots were GI with GI mattresses. + +After they had cleaned up, the boys went over to the huge sheds where +the mechanics worked over the planes. They learned from the chief +mechanic that Colonel Holt's order had come through. + +"I have the boys on your ships," the sergeant said. He did not seem to +approve of the idea. + +"I'll be after lookin' out fer me own ship," O'Malley said and hurried +away. + +"You don't seem to like the colonel's idea," Stan said. + +"We've tried it before, sir," the sergeant replied. + +"What happened?" + +"The boys got jumped out of cloud cover and were sitting ducks for the +Jerries," the sergeant said sourly. "Too much cloud cover and too many +Jerries for that stuff." + +Stan grinned. "I'll drop around and let you know how it works this +time." + +Walking back to his ship he watched the boys working on her. He was soon +satisfied that they knew just what should be done and made off. O'Malley +did not show up at mess and Stan began to wonder where he had gone. He +finally sauntered into the rest room where he found O'Malley shooting +the breeze with a group of fliers. + +"You missed a steak dinner," Stan greeted him. + +O'Malley grinned, "That's what you think," he said. "I had me a steak +dinner with the corporal that fixed up me ship. You know that feller +hadn't had a steak for a month. He sure went for it." O'Malley seated +himself and elevated his feet to the top of the radio. In this position +he promptly went to sleep. + +Stan talked with the boys until time to turn in. He wakened O'Malley and +they sloshed through the mud to their hut. During their absence, two +other boys, replacement men, had been quartered in the hut. They greeted +the two old heads eagerly. + +They were Bugs Monahan and Splinters Wright, both from Toledo, Ohio. +They had just finished flight combat school and were eager for action. +Someone had given them the records of Stan and O'Malley. They were both +eager to talk to the veterans. Splinters was a tall, thin youth with a +little mustache. Bugs was short and fat with a round beaming face and a +quick smile. + +"We've heard a lot about you fellows," Bugs said. + +"Never believe anything you hear in the army," Stan advised with a grin. + +"Sure, an' ye've been taken in by me auld pal Goebbels," O'Malley added. + +"I'm turning in. We'll get a call along about four in the morning," +Stan said. "See you boys over at the rest room. That's where we shoot +the breeze." + +"See you at midnight when we get up to poke wood into that stove," +O'Malley contradicted. + +"We'll keep the fire going. We're not sleepy," Splinters said. They were +both disappointed that the old heads did not want to go into a gabfest. + +Stan and O'Malley turned in. They had learned to get as much sleep as +possible. The two replacements kept the fire going as they had promised, +and the boys did not waken until they were called at three-fifty the +next morning. Bugs and Splinters had gotten a little sleep. They were up +instantly and eager to trail along and see what was going to happen. + +"Ye'll soon learn to sleep when ye get a chance," O'Malley said. + +They sloshed across to the operations room and joined their flight. Maps +were ready and Colonel Holt was standing with his fellow officers. The +room was filled with a buzz of talk. Something was up and the boys knew +it. Stan and O'Malley sat in the second row with Bugs and Splinters +beside them. Stan turned to the boys. + +"When you leave here you are not to talk to anyone about the operations +planned, not even to other officers," he warned. + +"There must be something up," Bugs said. "We'll keep mum." + +"When we get back we'll give you the story," Stan promised. + +Colonel Holt began speaking, and the talking stopped. "Men, we are going +to try a different approach. Weather says we'll have clear going." His +pointer moved along a red ribbon. "The bomber objective is a fighter +station and a plant near Huls. Ordinarily we'd turn back just beyond +Antwerp. Today we'll have a flight along which will carry enough extra +gasoline to add two-hundred-twenty miles in range. I'll spot those ships +for you and it will be the job of those carrying the regulation +one-hundred-ninety gallons to protect the specials until they drop their +extra tanks." + +The pilots who were to be long-range fighters grinned happily; the +others looked their disappointment. The colonel went on giving the +details. + +"The long-range ships will deploy and go in under the leadership of +Lieutenant Wilson. He will have detailed evasion orders." + +The boys listened to the rest of the briefing impatiently. Stan stayed +after the others left. Colonel Holt went over the plan with him, then +Stan hurried out to get his group together. Sim Jones met him as he +entered the flight room. He gave Stan a cold look. + +"Did you engineer this, Wilson?" he asked. + +"I did not ask to be put in command, if that's what you mean," Stan +answered. + +"You act like you thought you had to take over here," Sim said and his +eyes blazed. + +"Wilson has forgotten more about flyin' than you'll ever know," O'Malley +cut in. "And ye better remember that." + +"Easy, now. This is a teamwork job," Stan said. "Your orders are to +cover our long-range ships. They'll be heavy and gas logged. My planes +have to get to use all of that extra gas, Sim. What we're doing is +trying to break the jinx on the fighters." + +"Yeah? It smells bad to me. I think you're trying to get yourself an +extra bar on your shoulder." + +Stan's lips pulled into a straight line. "I don't care what you think of +me, personally, but you better cover my flight, and cover it right." + +The other fliers were staring at the two officers. They had worked under +Sim Jones a long time. Stan was a newcomer the same as Colonel Holt; +both had seen much service in other theaters of war. Stan sensed that +they were siding with Sim. He turned away and began getting into his +outfit. O'Malley was beside him. + +"That bird may try something," O'Malley said out of the side of his +mouth. + +"We sure slipped up when we didn't let him tell this plan to the +colonel," Stan said sourly. + +The boys sloshed out on the field. Stan looked over the dim outlines of +the planes. He would have six ships in his penetration flight. His boys +had been carefully instructed. They were to break away and appear to +leave with the other fighters, then loop up and over and come in on the +enemy from out of the sun when he dived down after the bombers. + +One by one the Thunderbolts slipped into the raw morning darkness. Stan +eased his ship off the ground and up into the sky. He dropped into place +in Sim's flight along with O'Malley. They were separated by one ship. +The Thunderbolts carrying extra weight were spotted so they could be +covered by the others. + +Soon they picked up the Forts and Libs and were headed across the +channel toward Flushing. Day broke and they could see the bombers below +them. The air was clear and cold but there were many scattered banks of +clouds all around. Stan kept his eyes open. Today he was not watching +the beauty of the bomber formation, he was checking on his own flight of +fighters. Sim was holding his ships in perfect formation. They roared +along with Stan and his boys using gasoline from their reserve tanks so +that they could get rid of them as soon as possible. + +Their first action came near the coast. A flight of Focke-Wulf 190's +broke out of a big cloud and roared in on them. + +"Break for action. Cover specials!" Sim called. + +The formation of Thunderbolts broke up and the fight was on. As usual +the Jerries were not aiming to close with the Yanks. They were willing +to pick off a cripple or a plane cut out from the flight but not to make +it a real battle. Their job was to delay and to pull the fighters away +from the bombers. + +Sim handled the situation well. The Thunderbolts did not break away, nor +were they delayed. They met each thrust and stab, but they refused to be +pulled into side shows. For once O'Malley was ignoring a Jerry fighter. +He was well up in front heading straight for Germany. Stan was in the +rear where he had been spotted. Sim was flying his cover, having dropped +back for that purpose. + +"I guess he's all right," Stan muttered. "He's making it his personal +business to see that I get through." + +At that moment two FW's dived down at the tail ships. Stan did not shift +course. + +All Sim had to do was to make a pass at the Jerries, loop over and shoo +them away. Suddenly Stan realized Sim was not making a pass. He had +stabbed at a Jerry coming in far to the side. + +Kicking his rudder, Stan went into action. The Jerries, seeing their +chance, had cut him off and now he would be sucked into a fight. The +Thunderbolt responded awkwardly. Stan reached for the tank release, then +his hand froze. If he kicked loose his tanks, the Jerries would be wise +to the trick. They would radio the information to base. Grimly Stan +dived and then zoomed. + +The two Focke-Wulfs gleefully tore in upon him. Stan gave one of them a +burst but missed. He was caught like a clumsy float plane and knew it. +Up he went and over, using every evasive trick he knew. Out of the +corner of his eye he saw that Sim had banked sharply and was coming back +to help him. He also spotted the cloud the Jerries had used to ambush +the flight. As he laid over and made for it, one of the FW's knifed in +and splattered him with lead. He felt the bullets pinging against his +armor plate and ripping through his wings. Ducking, he went down under +the cloud, just what the Jerry wanted. + +Sim had cut out one of the FW's but two others had joined the hunt, bent +on finishing the Thunderbolt they had cut off. Stan laid over and +wobbled around just as though he was hit bad. The Jerry banked and went +up a bit to get a better dive. He figured he had plenty of time because +the Yank was crippled. That was what Stan wanted. He kicked the +Thunderbolt wide open and zoomed for the cloud. Too late the Jerry saw +what was up. He roared down through the misty edge of the cloud and +barely missed a head-on crash with Stan. + +The instant the cloud closed around him Stan kicked off his extra tanks, +then he dived up and over the cloud. The Jerries were waiting for him. +Sim was chasing one FW, but three waited for the cripple. When Stan came +zooming out of the top of the cloud, they were a bit startled and showed +it by their hesitation. Stan grinned as he snapped his ship over and +dived on the nearest Jerry. + +Before the German could get going Stan had him in his sights and his +thumb had squeezed the gun button. His six 50's flamed and the recoil +set the Thunderbolt back on her flaps. The Jerry shuddered an instant, +then broke in two and burst into roaring flames. Stan went over the +wreckage and cut in between the other two Jerries. They were alive now +and in action. Around the three went, up and over, painting the chill +sky with streaks and loops of vapor. Stan did not hold on long. The +instant he had a chance to dive and run for it he did. And the Jerries +did not chase him. They were convinced he was no cripple. + +As Stan roared after his formation he saw Sim closing in from far to his +left. He was red-hot and wanted to tell Sim a few things, but he knew +the setup was such that he had to keep his mouth closed. Sim had made an +error of judgment in going after the lone Jerry and letting the other +two cut him out. Stan was sure it was intentional, but he could never +prove it. + +Another thing that worried him was that he did not know how much +gasoline he had used out of his reserve before he kicked his tanks +loose. He was flight leader of the group headed for Huls. If he went on +with his flight and there was much dogfighting, going and coming, he +might not get home. Sim's voice came in. + +"Wilson, sorry I couldn't handle all three Jerries. You'll have to go +back with our flight." + +Stan scowled. Sim appeared well pleased with the idea. "I'll use my own +judgment," Stan snapped back. + +"Name a leader and go back," Sim barked. "That is an order." + +"Sorry," Stan answered. "I'm taking the boys on through." + + + + +CHAPTER III + +HULS + + +Stan overtook his formation and dropped into place. The flight was +deployed with the Jerries perched up above and around waiting for the +Yanks to go home. Below lay the fields of Holland. + +"Are you clear, specials?" Stan called. + +"All clear," the boys called back. That meant they had zoomed down and +ditched their tanks in a way the Germans would not notice. + +Flak was coming up and a flight of FWs were worrying the Fortresses and +Liberators below. One big fellow was out of formation and having a tough +time. Fifteen FW's were after it. + +"We'll go down and have a crack at those FW's on that Fort," Stan +called. "So long, Sim, see you at mess!" + +One after another the six special Thunderbolts zoomed down upon the +FW's. They came down in a screaming dive and their first burst sent five +FW's smoking to earth. Instantly the whole battle changed. The flocks of +Jerries up above were taken by surprise because this was not according +to the book. The Yanks should be keeping altitude, holding them pinned +to the sky, and they were due any moment to start running for home. + +Stan and his crew covered the limping bomber and she began to pull up +into place where her flight had slowed to help her. Up above, the +Jerries cut loose and the Yanks got a crack at them as they tried to +filter through. For five minutes the sky was a battlefield, then the +Thunderbolts up above had to leave. They broke off and headed for home. +Behind them they left the wreckage of eleven Messerschmitts and +Focke-Wulfs. + +With the bombers, O'Malley was putting on a show which reminded Stan of +the old days. He was stunting so wildly and slamming lead so fast the +Jerries began giving him a wide berth. Stan began to realize that their +mission was not to be any picnic. One Thunderbolt went down, slashed +open by a cannon shell. No chute blossomed out beneath it as it twisted +and rolled toward earth. + +There were too many Me's and Focke-Wulf fighters. They were everywhere, +stabbing and diving, slashing at the bombers and ganging up on the +fighters. Stan realized that his flight should have had at least thirty +planes in it, and he began to suspect someone back at headquarters had +marked this down as an experiment, figuring upon losing only six planes. + +Another Thunderbolt went down and then another. O'Malley was still +taking care of himself and Stan was doing all right, but his gasoline +gauge was leering at him and its needle was rolling steadily around. +When the fourth Thunderbolt broke into flames, Stan knew it was time to +go home. He probably would not make it, but there was a chance. + +"O'Malley! Stan calling. Head for home!" + +Looking through the smoke and the bursts of flak, Stan saw nothing of +O'Malley. The Irishman had been in the midst of a fight a few minutes +before, but now he was nowhere to be seen. He checked the bomber flight. +It was going in for its bombing run and the batteries on the ground knew +just where the automatic pilots would take over for the run. They were +putting up a box barrage at that point. + +The Forts and the Libs rode into that blazing inferno of fire without +wavering or shifting formation. Stan saw bombs dropping, sticks of big +fellows. A Fort directly below him was plowing ahead when a puff of +smoke enveloped its tail. The smoke swirled away and there was the Fort +without any tail at all, only gaping holes where the rudder and the high +tail had been. The Fort sagged over and went into a terrible dive. One +after another chutes blossomed out until Stan had counted six. That was +the number alive in the Fort, the others were dead. + +Stan laid over and made a sweep, ducking in and out of the flak. The +Jerries had pulled away and gone back to their fields for more +ammunition and more gasoline for the interception of the Forts and Libs +on their return trip. + +Looking about, Stan saw nothing of O'Malley's ship. He headed for home +with a grim frown on his face. Everything went well until he reached the +channel. He met no German fighters and had a fair tail wind. But his +gasoline supply was very low. The needle kept bouncing off the empty +peg, riding clear, then dropping back. The English coast was a long way +off. + +Stan was flying at twelve thousand feet and that gave him a chance to +drift a long way, but not far enough if his gas ran out. Steadily he +drove toward the friendly shore. Below him the channel looked cold and +choppy. + +Thinking of O'Malley added to his gloom. When you work with a man in the +air, you expect the day when he does not return with you. But when the +time comes it is a stabbing shock. Stan and O'Malley had seen so much +action and had tackled so many tough jobs, they had come to feel they +always would pull through. + +Glancing at the gas gauge Stan saw that it registered empty, and the +needle was not showing any signs of movement. He glanced down at the +gray expanse below him and frowned. His ears strained for the first +break in the steady throbbing of the Pratt and Whitney radial. + +The engine kept hammering away for a long time. Stan checked his Mae +West suit and made other small preparations for a bath in the channel. +Then the engine sputtered, smoothed out, then sputtered again. With a +wheezing blast it went dead. + +Stan eased the nose down to hold his speed and began sagging down a long +slope toward the channel. He scanned the choppy sea for signs of a +British patrol boat. Several of the fast rescue boats should be +patrolling the flight line, ready to fish Yank pilots and crewmen out of +the water. He saw no sign of a boat. + +Slowly the Thunderbolt settled down. Floating a fourteen-thousand-pound +fighter in over a long distance is not like slipping along in a glider. +If there were any up-drafts, the Thunderbolt paid no attention to them. +She sliced on through and Stan had to nose her down to keep her from +falling like a rock. + +The sea came up to meet him and he began judging the spot where he would +take his bath in the icy water. Suddenly he heard the roar of plane +motors and looked up and back. A Fort was nosing down toward him. Stan +squinted to see if he could catch the markings. He could not make them +out, but he knew the ship was a bomber returning from Huls. + +There was no time for further looking. The Thunderbolt hit and hit hard, +as though she had slammed into a stone wall. She slewed around, jerked +and bobbed, slamming Stan back against his shock pad. He palmed the +hatch cover open and kicked loose from his belt and chute harness. In a +moment he was leaping into the water and the Thunderbolt was swirling +down into the sea. She lifted one wing as she slid from sight, as though +saluting him. + +"Tough luck, old girl," Stan said. He got a mouthful of salt water and +began sputtering. + +The Fort was low over the sea now and Stan saw that it was shot up a +bit. Then he saw the name painted on its fuselage. It was The Monkey's +Paw, the Fort Allison had taken over for the raid. He waved, and the +Fort dipped her wings. She went roaring on toward the thin black line +which was the coast. + +That meant rescue unless the high waves battered him and pulled him +under before a boat located him. He was struggling to stay afloat on the +rough sea when a Spitfire began circling overhead. The Spit dropped down +lower and lower. It wove back and forth and finally it dived toward him. +Stan waved some more. + +The Spit stayed with Stan until an orange-snouted speedboat appeared +over the foam-rimmed horizon. The boat came roaring toward him, guided +by the Spit. Stan grinned eagerly. Nice teamwork. Allison had radioed, +the Spitfire pilot had picked up the message, and he had been rescued. + +The speedboat pulled alongside and strong hands caught hold of Stan. + +"Up you come, me hearty," a seaman shouted. + +Stan was so chilled he had to hang on to the arm of the sailor to keep +his knees from buckling. + +"A bit chilly, eh?" a young officer asked. "Come along. We'll wrap you +in a newfangled blanket your Uncle Sam just furnished us." + +"It wasn't exactly a Turkish bath," Stan admitted. + +"I'll radio in for an ambulance," the officer said as he helped Stan +wiggle out of his soggy clothes and into the electrically heated +blanket. + +"No ambulance," Stan said. "I'll catch a ride over to my base with +someone." + +"The ambulance is the fastest way," the officer said. + +"They'd take me to a hospital, and that's the last place I want to see. +Just dry my outfit if you can." + +"Glad to, old fellow, and we'll have a spot of hot tea ready for you in +a jiffy." The officer turned away. + +Stan drank hot tea and toasted himself inside the blanket until they +were near the port where they were to put in. By that time his clothing +had been dried by one of the machinist mate's men in the engine room. + +Getting dressed Stan went on deck. They were edging in beside a pier. +Stan was the first over the side. He shook hands with the British +officer and waved to the crew, then he headed for a row of cars parked +along the street near the wharf. Picking out a car with a uniformed girl +at the wheel he walked over to it. + +"Hi, Yank," the girl greeted him. "You look a bit wrinkled." + +"I just had my daily bath in the channel." Stan grinned at the girl. "My +butler forgot to pack my bathing suit so I went in as is. How about a +lift?" + +"This is Sir Eaton Pelham's car. I'm afraid it isn't available." She +smiled sweetly when she said it. + +Stan glanced at the other cars. There were no other drivers about. He +looked back at the girl. + +"Sir Eaton a kindhearted man?" he asked. + +"Very," she assured him. "He carries a pocketful of cracker crumbs for +the pigeons." + +At that moment Sir Eaton Pelham appeared. He was a burly Englishman, +wrapped snugly in the folds of a greatcoat. His ruddy face beamed and he +nodded to Stan. + +"Jolly nice weather for one day," he said as he opened the door of the +car. + +"Very," Stan answered. "How about a lift?" + +Sir Eaton looked at Stan closely for the first time. "I say, a Yank +flier. What could you be doing here?" + +"I was just fished out of the channel by one of His Majesty's patrol +boats and want to get back to base." + +"Hop in, old man. Where is base?" + +"Take me to Diss," Stan said as he climbed in. + +"Right-o." Sir Eaton did not ask any more questions. He spoke about the +country they whirled through, but never mentioned the war at all. When +Stan got down at Diss, Sir Eaton waved his thanks aside. "Good hunting, +my boy," he said. Turning to his driver he said, "Whitehall, London. +We'll have to hit it a bit fast to be on time for my meeting." + +Stan stood staring at the car as it whirled away. "Whitehall," he +muttered. "Pelham." Suddenly he began to laugh. He had hitched a ride +with one of Winston Churchill's right-hand men. And he had taken the +honorable assistant secretary many miles out of his way. + +Hailing a jeep Stan hooked a ride to the camp. He walked into operations +and up to the desk. A major looked up and then started. + +"Wilson!" he exclaimed. "We had you marked down as lost. Sim Jones +reported you short of gas." + +"I hitchhiked back. Caught a ride with one of Churchill's secretaries," +Stan said dryly. + +The major looked at him sharply, then shoved a pad across the desk. +"Just put that in writing," he said. + +Stan made his report, then headed for his hut to change into an +unwrinkled uniform. There was no one in the hut, but his things and the +belongings of O'Malley had been neatly stacked. Stan scowled. + +"They gather a man's stuff up in a hurry around here," he muttered. + +He put his own things back and did the same with O'Malley's. There would +be no rush about making O'Malley out a dead man. Getting into his +uniform he headed for the mess. He was suddenly very hungry. + +Walking into the little dining room he halted and his mouth dropped +open. At a table, with four youngsters listening open-mouthed to his +talk, sat O'Malley. He looked up and for a moment held a big piece of +steak poised on his fork. Then he shoved the steak into his mouth and +waved a big hand. + +Stan crossed the room and seated himself. There was no warm greeting. +O'Malley swallowed his steak and grinned at his pal. + +"Ye're a bit late, but in time for the pie course." + +"I took a bath on the way back," Stan said. + +"That spalpeen--" + +"Now, now," Stan cut in. "No names named." + +"I said a spalpeen let you down," O'Malley growled. + +"And what happened to you?" + +O'Malley grinned. "Me? Oh, I had the boys tuck an extra sixty gallons o' +gas aboard. The colonel said we was to handle fixing the tanks, so I +fixed mine like that." + +"You dropped out of sight at Huls in a hurry," Stan said. + +"I ran out of ammunition, and havin' a spot of extra gas, I did a bit o' +sight-seein'," O'Malley explained. "An' did I get an eyeful!" + +The four youngsters sighed and got to their feet. It was time for them +to shove off. + +"See you when I got time to tell you how I chased a Nazi birdman right +down on a British landing strip," O'Malley called after them. + +"You've been stringing the kids along," Stan said. + +"I gave them only a bird's-eye view o' the life o' the great O'Malley." +The Irishman leaned back and surveyed the platter where the steak had +been. "Now jest a wee bit of apple pie an' I'll have the edge taken off +me hunger." + +He ordered a whole pie. Stan ordered a steak and coffee. As soon as the +orders were placed before them, O'Malley leaned forward. + +"Sure, an' I saw the strangest sight today," he began. "I wouldn't have +believed it if I hadn't seen it." + +"What was it?" + +"I was flittin' along over the tops o' trees an' the spires o' kirks +when I zoom out over a wooded slope with a big cleared field in the +middle o' the woods. There on that field was at least seventy Jerry +fighter planes." O'Malley paused to cram a large bite of pie into his +mouth. + +"Fighter field. Did you get its location?" + +"Sure. An' I thought I'd give those fellers a grand scare. There wasn't +a plane in the air, so I was safe. I zoomed up an' over an' came down in +a dive." O'Malley paused and shook his head. "You'd never believe it. I +could hardly believe me own eyes. When I came back down to scare the +daylights out o' them Krauts, there wasn't a plane on that field. They +just vanished." O'Malley looked hard at his pie and kept on shaking his +head. + +"It's all right to tell that yarn to me, but don't ever tell it to a +general," Stan said. "Did they all take to the air?" + +"Nary a plane in the air. It's some black magic them Krauts have +conjured up, if ye ask me." + +It was clear that O'Malley was in dead earnest. Stan believed O'Malley +had seen the planes. He also believed there was some trick the Germans +had worked out to hide their fighter fields and to protect them. + +"We'll have another look," O'Malley said. "I have the place spotted." + +"Being able to get fighters out of sight so quickly would account for +our not being able to knock out their fighter fields," Stan said. "We'll +have to give this some thought." + +"It ought to get us special duty," O'Malley said. + +"I'll bet you slipped inside their warning system and caught them +flat-footed. But there must be some way they get parked planes moved so +fast." + +"We'll be the b'ys to find that out," O'Malley answered. + +"I doubt if we ever make anybody swallow your story," Stan said. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +SCOUTING MISSION + + +Stan and O'Malley had a visitor that night. Allison drove over to see +them. Looking around the Nissen hut, he grinned broadly. + +"Sure, an' I'll call the butler," O'Malley said. "He just stepped into +the drawin' room." + +"Sit down, pal." Stan motioned toward one of the cots. + +"Homey spot you have here," Allison observed. + +"How did it go today?" Stan asked. + +"You fellows did a swell job, but why only six fighters?" Allison's +smile had faded. + +"The brass hats knew I was goin' along," O'Malley replied. + +"One of those little experiments," Stan explained grimly. + +"Pretty expensive try, I'd say," Allison answered. + +"O'Malley spotted a big fighter base all equipped with vanishing +planes." Stan got to the point he wanted to discuss at once. + +"There must be dozens of them, but we have never been able to spot any +of them to knock them out. Those Me's and FW's just sprout out of the +ground as we go along." Allison frowned and shook his head. "If we could +spot the fields, we could send out separate missions ahead of a raid and +knock off those fields." + +"O'Malley says they snap the planes out of sight in less than a minute. +He slipped in over one of them, circled, and when he came back there +wasn't a plane in sight." + +"I figure there were at least seventy planes parked when I popped in +over the field. When I came back over they were gone." O'Malley shook +his head. + +"Think anyone would believe such a yarn?" Stan asked. + +"Every bomber pilot and crew member would believe it," Allison said +grimly. "Why don't you report it and ask for a chance to check up?" + +"I've already gone over the head of Sim Jones once and got socked for +it," Stan said. "But O'Malley ought to report it." + +"Sure, an' I'll be after seein' Colonel Holt meself." O'Malley ran his +fingers through his mop of red hair. "I'd as soon have this Jones bird +after me as not." + +After that the talk got around to the raid on Huls. Allison's ship had +come through with only a few bullet holes. His bombardier had laid their +eggs squarely on a factory building. It had been a good show for the +Forts and Libs. + +"What I'm worried about," Allison said as he got ready to leave, "is +that the Wellingtons and Lancasters will blow Berlin off the map before +we are able to penetrate that far." + +"Them nighthawks?" O'Malley showed his scorn by frowning savagely. +"Flyin' boxcars!" + +"They haul a lot of TNT and they get through, to their targets, but +there'll be a lot of stuff for the precision sights of the Forts and +Libs," Stan said. "You notice when they want important targets like +locks or sub pens or carefully placed factories they send you boys to +get them." + +"I know, old man," Allison said with a grin. "But I'd like to make the +Berlin run." + +"With those hidden fighter fields out of the way you could go in and out +alone," Stan pointed out. "The way it is now, they keep sending up +fighters all along the route." + +"I have to run for it," Allison said. "Pilots meeting." + +After he had gone Stan and O'Malley headed for Colonel Holt's office. +Bugs and Splinters came in just as they were leaving. They were both +highly excited. They had been assigned to active duty. Stan smiled at +them but he was thinking that they were taking the places of the men who +had been in his flight. + +The boys were waiting for the colonel when Sim Jones came out of a side +door. He paused for a moment. Stan eyed him coldly; O'Malley walked on +into the colonel's office without speaking. + +"I suppose you think I deliberately tricked you, Wilson. You're headed +for the Old Man." His lips pulled tight. "I don't blame you, but I +didn't pull that stunt to get you cut out. It was a boner on my part." + +"It was," Stan agreed dryly. "And I'm not squawking to the colonel." + +Sim looked Stan in the eye; he flushed a deep red. "I figured I was so +good I could cut back and take out all three Jerries." + +"Forget it," Stan said and grinned. "We all pull 'em." + +Sim turned and hurried away without another word. Stan was still smiling +as he entered the colonel's office. O'Malley scowled up at him. + +"Did you bop him one?" he asked. + +The colonel was seated at his desk. He looked from Stan to O'Malley and +lifted his eyebrows. + +"No," Stan said. "I made a date to have lunch with him." + +O'Malley's eyes opened wide. The colonel leaned back. "Go ahead with +your story, Lieutenant," he said. + +O'Malley finished his story and the colonel considered the matter for a +few minutes. + +"It sounds fantastic," he finally said. "But it fits in very neatly with +what we have been able to learn about German fighter tactics. I think we +should look into it. I'll let you men know what I plan to do." + +"Could we have any special assignment growing out of this?" Stan asked. + +"You will get the special assignment," the colonel promised. + +"Thank you, sir," Stan answered as he got to his feet. + +They saluted and left the office. O'Malley was still in a sour mood. + +"You made up with that Jones bird?" + +"I did," Stan said. "Now let's head for the mess." + +When they entered the mess, the boys greeted them warmly and crowded +around. There was no trace of resentment or jealousy. The fellows were +eager to know what had happened over Huls. Stan and O'Malley were the +only two pilots to get back. Sim sat at a table alone. + +Stan talked with the boys a while, then walked over to where Sim was +seated. He pulled out a chair and sat down. + +"Mind if I join you?" he asked. + +"Glad to have you," Sim said and meant it. + +After a bit O'Malley came over. He had noticed that Stan and Sim were +laughing over something and he did not know what to make of it. + +"Sit down," Stan greeted him. "Have a pie on me." + +"Sure, an' I'll do that," O'Malley said. He sat down and waited to hear +what he could. + +Stan and Sim laughed and talked and finally O'Malley joined in. It was +clear that the boys had buried the hatchet, so he saw no reason for +being grumpy. Besides, the cook had just made some blueberry pies and +they were extra tasty. + +After mess Stan got a call from Colonel Holt and hurried off, leaving +O'Malley and Sim together. The colonel had two officers with him when +Stan went in to see him. + +"General Ward and Major Kulp," the colonel said. "This is Lieutenant +Wilson." + +The men shook hands and all sat down. The colonel passed several papers +across to Stan. + +"You are on special detail. You'll be equipped with P-51 ships and have +a flight of three. General Ward suggests you do a bit of rhubarb +raiding." + +"Thank you, sir. These 51's are the new long-range fighters?" + +"They have the same range as the Libs and Forts." The colonel smiled. +"But we have only a few of them. Later, perhaps, we'll have a great +many." + +"Check carefully on location and construction of fields. Each ship has a +camera to record the details of any fields you locate." General Ward +spoke in a Texas drawl. + +"Don't trust the cameras entirely. Get down low and see all you can," +the major added. + +"The third pilot, who is he?" Stan asked. + +"Did you have a man in mind?" Colonel Holt asked. + +"Yes, sir." + +"I should have consulted you, but I already have promised a man the +job." + +"Who is he?" Stan asked, trying not to show his disappointment. + +"Lieutenant Jones." + +Stan began to grin. "The same man I had in mind," he said. + +"Good. Now take over." + +Stan hurried away. He found the boys listening to the radio in the rest +room. At his nod O'Malley and Sim joined him at a reading table. + +"We get special rhubarb detail," he said. + +"Foine," O'Malley said eagerly. "Only we'll never be able to fly far +enough into Kraut territory to see anything." + +"I get to go along?" Sim asked. + +"Colonel's orders," Stan said and grinned. "And we get P-51 ships with +the same range as the Forts." + +"Sure, an' we'll fly to Berlin," O'Malley said. + +"You better be thinking about locating that airfield," Stan answered. +"There was a general at the meeting I just left." + +"As long as he won't be askin' to go along, it's all right," O'Malley +said. + +"Now let's get some shut-eye." Stan got to his feet. + +In the operations room the next morning, their papers were ready and +they headed out on the field where three big Mustangs stood ready and +warmed up. They were powerhouses with wicked armament and plenty of +wingspread. In addition to wing guns, they had bomb racks which were +fitted with extra gasoline tanks. + +"Sure, an' they're one-man bombers," O'Malley crowed. + +"They weren't built for hedge-hopping, but the major said they could do +about four hundred miles per hour on the treetop level," Stan explained. + +Sim whistled. "Wait until the Eighth gets a flock of these," he said. + +"You plot the course, O'Malley," Stan said. "We'll stay in close until +we start down over Germany, then we'll keep within striking distance to +cover each other. We're camera equipped but we have to use our eyes, +too." + +The boys climbed up and got settled. Control gave Stan clearance and he +called to his flight. + +"Rhubarb Raid, check temperatures. Sim, take off first. Rendezvous at +twenty thousand." + +Stan leaned back and checked his instruments. He watched Sim slide away +and shoot skyward. The 51's were plenty fast. O'Malley went off next and +was in the air almost at once. Stan kicked his throttle open and roared +after his pals. The Mustang hopped off as though she weighed only a few +pounds instead of three tons or more. + +The three P-51's slipped into close formation and headed out across the +channel. The day was a good one for reconnaissance, because there were +many banks of clouds at high level with a very high ceiling. Stan kept +his eyes open for enemy interceptors. He half hoped a few Me's would +spot them so that they could try out the new ships. No fighters were +seen until they reached the mouth of the Rhine. + +Below them they could see Rotterdam and beyond, Gorinchem. O'Malley was +wagging his wings, signaling to go down. The fighters they spotted, +three in number, did not try to intercept them. + +Stan signaled back and they all peeled off. The P-51 went down smoothly +but with a swift rush that set Stan back against the shock pad. He had +to ease on a bit more power to stay with O'Malley who was trying his +ship out. + +At five thousand feet they flattened out a quarter mile apart and +stalled in toward a line of trees and a windmill. O'Malley brushed the +sails of the mill as he swept over it. They were close to the ground +now, flipping along like cotton dusters on a Texas plantation. O'Malley +was hugging the ground, popping over trees and sliding between +buildings. Stan saw the white faces of people as they looked up. Most of +them waved to the ship with the United States insignia. They were Dutch +farmers. + +The three ships hedge-hopped on over the low country. O'Malley held a +speed that made the ground blur and waver. It also made dodging power +lines and missing church steeples exciting business. Stan raked a +pennant off the top of a building without seeing the building at all. +After that he called to O'Malley. + +"Hey, you. Get up a bit!" + +"Sure, an' the scenery is foine down here," O'Malley called back. But he +did take a little more altitude. + +They roared in over Germany and headed for Huls. Twice they were blasted +by machine guns, but they were flying so low the German detector system +had not spotted them. They were put down as Mosquito bombers out hunting +locomotives and trains: + +"We're coming in now," O'Malley called. + +He had swung wide of Huls and was headed for some low hills. Knifing +over the the nearest hill, with their bellies scraping the tops of a row +of trees, the three P-51's nosed into a little valley. + +Suddenly Stan saw the airfield O'Malley had spotted. In a snap guess he +placed the number of planes lined up at one hundred. They were in a +long row at the base of a hill. Runways led out to a wide flight strip. + +"Strafe them!" he shouted. + +The order was not necessary. O'Malley and Sim were going straight down +the line of planes, their guns blasting flame and lead. The target was +so narrow that Stan had to stall and slip a bit to drop behind in order +to get a shot at the line. + +The Mustangs went over so fast the Germans did not have time to fire a +shot at them. Not a plane moved, except those which blew up or burst +into flames under the withering fire from the Yank guns. Up the P-51's +went and over the ridge. They were roaring along at such a pace that it +took a long zoom and bank to get lined up for a return trip. + +When they came back over, the Germans were ready for them. Smoke makers +were billowing thick haze over the scene and every imaginable sort of +gun was slamming lead and steel into the sky. The air above the field +was thick with flaming muck. O'Malley was out in front with Sim close +off his port wing. He went into the muck low down. Stan came in a bit +behind his pals. + +Looking down into the flaming muzzles of the guns Stan stared hard. +There wasn't a plane in sight! Not even the burning ships or those +blasted to bits could be seen. There was nothing but the green slope of +the hill and the smooth runways leading to the flight strip. + +"Well, what do you know!" he muttered. + +At that instant the muck enveloped him along with the pall of smoke from +the edges of the field. Just ahead of him he saw something that looked +like a huge rocket lift toward Sim's ship. It exploded with a blinding +flash directly under the P-51. Sim's ship shot upward and a wing swirled +away like a dark strip of paper torn from a wall. Then the P-51 nosed +into the ground and exploded. Cold sweat broke out all over Stan's body +as he pulled his ship over and up. + +At five thousand feet up and well away from the hot spot, Stan took +stock. He tried to call O'Malley and found his radio was shot out. +Looking through his spattered hatch cover, he saw that his port wing +had three gaping holes in it. But the engine was singing sweetly. His +first thought was to locate O'Malley, but he had another when he spotted +three Focke-Wulf fighters roaring in on his tail. + +"We'll see what you have to offer, sister," he said softly as he kicked +the Mustang wide open and laid her over. + +The big ship responded with a surge of power that yanked her into the +sky and over in a perfect roll before Stan could decide what was going +on. Leveling off, Stan looked for the FW's. They had missed him by a +wide margin. Stan grinned. + +"You don't need a pilot, lady," he said. + +Coming over he tried a burst on one of the FW's. It was a long shot, but +the Jerry was lined up neatly in his sight. The heavy guns of the P-51 +roared and bucked. Up ahead the FW wobbled and dived. The other two went +up for altitude. Stan went up, too. The P-51 was a high-altitude lady +and would do better up where she had rare air and plenty of space. + +Stan eased away from the FW's and did not challenge them. They circled, +taking a good look at this new type of fighter. They had learned from +sad experience that any new Yank ship might prove to be deadly. The +Forts had taught them that. + +Stan was well up now where he could look down on the flight strip below. +He saw nothing of O'Malley but he did see two wrecked planes at the far +edge of the field away from the hill. Nosing down Stan dived toward the +field. The two FW's dived after him, but he soon eased away from them. + +Sweeping in a few yards above the runway, Stan laid over just a little. +He checked the wrecks and saw that one of them was Sim's ship. The other +was an FW fighter minus one wing. The Germans behind their hidden +batteries opened up with a savage burst of fire. Stan went straight +toward the hill, flying low to keep out of the flak. As he shot up off +the runway he stared hard at the hillside ahead, then blinked his eyes. + +"So," he said softly. "So that's the way it is." + +He went up and over the hill, spiraling into the sky in a climb steeper +than any ship had ever carried him. The FW's had been joined by five Me +110's, but the Jerries did not close with him. Stan headed for home as +fast as the P-51 could travel, which topped four hundred miles per hour +by a wide margin. + +He was roaring along with no opposition in sight and a clear sky around +him when he suddenly spotted a plane in his mirror. It was overhauling +him rapidly. Suddenly Stan grinned. He eased back on the throttle and +waggled his wings as O'Malley roared over him. Picking up speed, he +dropped in beside his pal and signaled that his radio was dead. They +roared on home, wing to wing. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +HIDDEN DROMES + + +Stan sat at Colonel Holt's desk along with O'Malley. It had taken them +just twenty minutes to get from the operations room to the colonel's +office. Holt had called in Major Kulp of the photography wing and +General Ward from the command staff. + +"When I came in to check the wrecked planes," Stan said, "I was able to +see how they do it. They have a screen on tracks. It is covered over +with brush and leaves and looks from any angle, except squarely in +front, like the side of the hill. They just roll it out and it covers +the planes." + +"You wrecked quite a few of them on the ground?" the general asked. + +"We must have smashed at least half of them," Stan answered. "But the +part that interested me most was the underground hangars. The screen is +only a temporary camouflage. The planes are snapped back into the +underground hangar. I say we got about half of them, because the wrecked +ones were still out under the screen. The others had been pulled back." + +"We can bomb those hangars out," the colonel said. + +"I don't think so," Stan said. "I judge there's a full forty feet of +earth over them as a roof, and I suppose there's at least ten feet of +concrete under that." + +"That would make them safe. Have any any ideas for handling them?" +General Ward bent forward eagerly. + +"Yes," Stan replied. "We could skip-bomb them." + +"Skip-bomb?" Major Kulp asked. + +"Bounce our bombs right into the open end of the hangar," Stan said, +grinning. + +"It might work," Colonel Holt said. + +"The P-51's carry bombs, and I'm sure the boys could rig them so that we +could fly at the right angle to bounce them into the hangars. If we went +across once, they'd have the ships pulled back in and we'd get most of +them." + +"We'll try it," the general said. "Wilson, you will have charge of the +flight." + +"It will be tough going. We lost Jones today and O'Malley and I were +just lucky. We both had our ships shot up badly." + +"Chances we have to take," Colonel Holt said gravely. "Are you sure +Jones was killed?" + +"I saw his ship hit by what looked like a rocket shell," Stan said. "I +went into the smoke and did not see it until I flew over it on the +ground." + +Silence followed this remark. Finally the colonel spoke. "We'll report +him missing in action and hope for the best." + +"Sure, an' I'm thinkin' the Jerries were plenty mad," O'Malley said +grimly. + +"The thing to do is to check with bomber operations and locate the spots +where they run into the most fighters. Then scout those areas with +low-level flights. When we locate a set of runways near a hill, we'll +check. After the data is in we'll try Lieutenant Wilson's skip-bombing +tactics. But we want to make a clean-up, for once we let them know how +we do it they'll rig up a defense." The general rose to his feet. "I'll +let you know, Colonel, what plans my office makes." + +"You have pictures of the hangars?" the major asked eagerly. + +"I'm afraid I forgot all about your cameras when I came in over the +runway," Stan replied. "I was really looking for Sim and O'Malley." + +"You fighter pilots always forget the cameras," the major said sourly. +"Well, we'll check what you did get." + +"'Tis about time to be eatin'," O'Malley put in anxiously. + +"In that case, Colonel, we'll run along," Stan said with a grin. + +Colonel Holt looked at O'Malley sternly. "Food is a secondary matter +right now, but you may go." + +"Thank you, sor," O'Malley said. "It's very important to me." + +The colonel looked at O'Malley's lank and bony frame and smiled. He +turned back to his desk, and Stan and O'Malley hurried away. + +"I thought you had to have water to do this here skip-bombing," +O'Malley said when they were outside. + +"It can be done on land, too. Our boys can rig a delayed fuse and we can +roll the eggs right back into the nests," Stan explained. + +"We'll have fun," O'Malley chuckled. "In no time at all we'll be over +Berlin." + +During the next week, scouting flights from the Eighth Air Force field +and from other fields near by were made on a pattern. Long-range P-51's +and swift Mosquito bombers went out. They searched a wide band of enemy +territory and made many photographs. Every landing strip, even though it +appeared to be only an emergency runway, was checked and photographed. +Then the boys were called in. The fields had been spotted and their +underground hangars located. It was time to strike. + +Stan and O'Malley sat in the operations room looking at a big map. +Colonel Holt stood before the map with his staff. The men leaned forward +eagerly. For several days they had been practicing a new type of +bombing with fighters, a skip method. The colonel pointed to the map. + +"There are many flights going out at daylight. Ours is just one of them, +but we have been assigned to destroy the largest of the fighter bases +near Berlin. You all know the tactics. There will be thirty planes in +your flight. This is a teamwork job." He paused and looked over the +eager faces before him. + +The men began to breathe easier as the colonel went on. They knew what +they were up against. There would be a long flight during which they +would avoid fights in the air. Then there would be a sudden attack to be +staged just at dawn. That attack would be rugged going and a lot of them +would never come back. + +When the briefing was over, they crowded out of the room and into the +mess for hot coffee and sandwiches. There was little talking. This was +the hour of tension. Weather still had to come through with reports and +the men had learned that Weather often let them down. Being let down +after getting keyed up for a dangerous mission was worse than going +out. + +But Weather did not let them down. They got their clearance without +delay and headed for the ready room. Eagerly they scrambled into their +outfits, then barged out into the night. Stan and O'Malley walked side +by side. + +"We fly the tail slot," Stan said. "That means some hot going." + +"'Tis as good as any," O'Malley answered as he headed for his plane. +"See you at breakfast." + +Like huge night birds the P-51's took off and headed east. Stan watched +the flare of their exhausts as they flamed down the runways and lifted +into the dark sky. + +"O'Malley ready, Wilson stand by." + +Stan adjusted himself and checked his instruments. He eased down against +the shock pad and waited. O'Malley went knifing away and he wheeled in +behind. Hoiking the P-51's tail he sent her off and up. + +Quickly the big fighters, each with a bomb load tucked in where +ordinarily extra tanks would nestle, closed into formation. The flight +leader, Colonel Wellman held them in tight formation. + +As they roared along Stan thought back over the past few days. He had +been offered the flight leader's job but had turned it down. When +Wellman got back he would be ranked up a notch and shoved into a job +where he could fly only occasionally. Already his record and his rating +kept him at base most of the time. Stan grinned. He did not want +anything out of the war but a chance to fly in action. + +They moved across the channel, high up in the cold sky. Roaring toward +Berlin in arrow-straight flight, they slid over the Netherlands. There +were to be no roundabout evasive tactics tonight, not with bombs in the +place of extra gasoline. + +Stan checked his instrument panel and his clocks. They must be over +Germany now. The country below was blacked-out entirely. There was no +flak and no lights below. Darkness still filled the world, but dawn was +not far away. + +A buzzer signal in his headset told Stan it was time to settle down for +low flying. Light had begun to show in the east. Down went the Mustangs, +and as the dawn began to lighten the low country below, they roared +across the German countryside. Now they were greeted by a few bursts of +fire, but no heavy flak came at them. Because they were hedge-hopping at +a terrific speed, the German warning systems were not spotting them in +time to allow gunners to get set. + +"Tactical formation, Red Flight." Colonel Wellman broke the silence with +that crisp order. + +The Mustangs spread out and made a circling sweep. They had been headed +straight for Berlin and would be spotted as a nuisance raid group of +Mosquito bombers. No fighters would try to intercept them. The Berlin +defenders would depend upon flak, as fighters were useless against the +fast Mosquitoes. By swinging sharply east the Mustangs would hit the +fighter hangars. + +The light was good as the boys roared along at treetop level and spotted +the landmarks they had been briefed to expect. They flew in perfect +formation. Stan was flying the tail slot along with O'Malley. They were +in a mopping-up position. + +Stan saw the runways flash into sight, then he saw the lead Mustangs go +in with their wheels almost touching the runways. A second later there +were many flashes of flame and rolling clouds of dust. At the same +moment the earth began to erupt fire and smoke and steel. The second +wave of Mustangs disappeared into the inferno. Stan saw two of them blow +up, then go bouncing and tumbling along the ground. That was all he had +time to see. With his hand on the bomb release he went in. + +The smoke and the firing was so intense Stan could make out little. He +judged his distance and released his bombs when he caught a glimpse of a +yawning tunnel ahead. He saw O'Malley cut his load loose. O'Malley was +wing to wing with him. Then the Irishman's Mustang stuck her nose into +the ground and went end over end down the field like a wrecked kite. +Stan pulled up hard and as his P-51 lifted, he felt something hit her. +It was as though he had slammed into a stone wall. She staggered, let +down one wing, then nosed over. Stan felt the ground slap her and heard +the ripping and tearing of metal as something exploded almost in his +face. A blinding flash of light stabbed at his eyeballs and blinded him. + +The Mustang rolled over and over, her sturdy fuselage refusing to +crumple. Stan's one thought was of fire. He pawed aside what was left of +his hatch cover and heaved himself upward and out. Staggering free of +the wreckage, he found himself enveloped in a choking pall of smoke. Off +to his left, a heavy explosion shook the ground. Dirt and sticks and +bits of metal peppered him and the smoke surged away before the +concussion of the explosion. Stan staggered back and as he did so, four +soldiers leaped at him out of the smoke. + +One of the men lunged at Stan from the side and two from the rear. He +felt a solid impact on the back of his head and felt himself slumping +forward, then everything went black. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +PRISONER + + +Stan opened his eyes and found himself in a big room with stone walls +and high windows. Sun was streaming in through two of the windows and +gleamed upon piles of straw littering the floor. A dozen Yank airmen and +several R.A.F. men sat on the straw. Stan lifted his hand to the back of +his head and groaned. An R.A.F. man near him said: + +"A bit of a tough rap? Can I get you some water? It's all we've seen so +far in the way of refreshments." + +"Thanks," Stan said. "But where am I?" + +"A Jerry prison. I take it you were one of the boys who bombed the +fighter fields. I'm Captain Prentiss." The Britisher smiled. + +"I'm Stan Wilson. I'm not sure I bombed anything. Is there an Irishman +here by the name of O'Malley?" + +"Right-o. He was dragged in with you." Prentiss got to his feet. "I'll +go tell him you're awake." + +"Thanks." Stan heaved himself to a sitting position and looked around. +Several of the boys nodded to him but none of them got up. All of them +were strangers to Stan, men from flights he had not worked with. + +O'Malley came in from a narrow hallway and hurried across the room. When +he saw that Stan was sitting up, a dark scowl on his face turned into a +grin. + +"Sure, an' I've been yellin' at them Krauts, tryin' to get them to send +a Doc in to fix you up. They jest laughed at me." + +"I don't need a doctor. How did the raid go?" + +"The boys say we blew 'em off the map. I talked with a couple of Lib +boys just brought in. We cleared the path to Berlin." O'Malley grinned +eagerly. "I'm glad ye're feelin' foine now. We have to get out o' this +hole." + +Stan looked up at the high, barred windows. "Yes, we do," he said, more +to encourage O'Malley than because he had any hopes. They were deep in +the heart of Germany and soon would be in a closely guarded prison camp. + +"They're takin' us to another prison in a few minutes. The guard says we +get to eat before we're locked up again. We have to be questioned by the +Gestapo." O'Malley leered angrily. + +"You mean German Intelligence," Stan corrected. + +"All the same. Himmler runs 'em both," O'Malley answered. + +They were interrupted by a shout from the hallway. A burly German +officer stamped into the room and stood looking at the men. + +"Get to your feet!" he yelled. + +The men slowly rose and stared at the officer. He glared at them, his +eyes moving over them slowly. + +"You should be treated as swine, you bomb cities and kill +non-combatants. Der Fuehrer does not like this," he snarled. + +"We are only following the example you set at Warsaw and Rotterdam," a +British major said as he stepped over and faced the German. "We are +prisoners of war and you'll treat us as such, my fine fellow." + +Stan moved forward quickly. The R.A.F. major stood with his feet planted +well apart, facing the German. The German lashed out suddenly with a +knotted fist. The major swayed a bit and ducked the blow. He started a +right cross for the German's jaw but Stan dived in and pinned his arms. + +"Swine! Dog!" the German bellowed. "You will pay for this." + +"Take it easy. Knocking his block off won't help you any," Stan said as +he released the major's arms. "There ought to be better ways." + +"I'm sorry," the major said stiffly. + +The German glared around him. He puffed out his chest and struck a stiff +pose. + +"You are to be moved to other quarters. Anyone trying any sneaking +business will be shot. Is dot clear?" + +"It's clear. Get on with the moving," Stan said crisply. + +"You better be after feedin' us," O'Malley broke in. + +The officer blew a whistle and a squad of soldiers filed in. The men +lined up and the officer began splitting the prisoners up into small +groups. He sent six men away with the guards and whistled for another +squad. + +"They must think we're tough," Stan said and grinned. + +Before Stan and O'Malley were sent out, a young lieutenant entered and +spoke to the officer in charge. He faced the remaining men. + +"Lieutenants Wilson and O'Malley are wanted at once for questioning." He +glared about him. + +Stan and O'Malley stepped forward. + +"Come with me," the young lieutenant snapped. + +"What? No squad with fixed bayonets?" Stan asked and grinned. + +The lieutenant smiled. "Where we are going there will be no need for an +armed guard." He walked away with Stan and O'Malley beside him. O'Malley +kept a sharp eye open for a chance to escape. Stan was afraid if they +passed an open door O'Malley would bolt through it. + +They entered a long hallway and were marched to its far end where they +entered a small room. There was a table and a few chairs. + +"You may as well sit down," the lieutenant said. + +"You almost talk United States," Stan observed. + +"I should. I spent ten years in Pittsburgh," the lieutenant explained. + +"How did you come to get over here in Germany?" Stan asked. + +"During those years I was working for the greater Germany," the officer +answered stiffly. "Heil Hitler." He did an about-face as precisely as +though he had been on parade before Hitler and marched out of the room. + +"Don't tell them anything," Stan said. + +"Sure, an' the Gestapo has my life history written down anyway," +O'Malley said. "I think we're in Berlin and I'd be after likin' it if I +could get loose." + +"We'll be watched very close at first. We'll have to wait," Stan warned. + +Two officers, a major and a colonel, accompanied by the young +lieutenant, entered. The ranking officers seated themselves at the +table; the lieutenant stood before Stan and O'Malley. + +"You are a part of the Eighth Air Force?" he asked. + +"Yes," Stan answered. + +"Do you know how many fighters and bombers your force has?" + +"No," Stan answered. + +"How many of the new type of fighters do you have? The sort you were +flying when shot down." + +"I've heard some of the boys say a couple of thousand," Stan answered. +He was merely reporting a bit of mess rumor he had heard the day before. + +The lieutenant scowled and spoke in German to his superiors. After that +the questions came fast, but neither O'Malley nor Stan offered any +further comment. They answered simply yes or no or refused to answer at +all. Finally the senior officer got up in disgust and stamped out. + +"You are fools," the lieutenant snapped. + +"Would you talk if we caught you?" Stan asked pleasantly. + +"Of course not, but we are a superior race. Now you will be given +comfortable quarters and food. We observe the rules of war." He turned +about and motioned for them to follow. + +The boys were fed soup and fish with a slice of bread and a brown liquid +which passed as coffee. O'Malley grumbled a lot, but he ate everything +set before him. + +"If this is what the Geneva treaty said captured officers were to eat, +I'm a spalpeen," O'Malley muttered as he marched away with Stan to their +quarters. + +They found themselves quartered in an old stone house which had at one +time been a residence. There was a high wall around it with many guards +pacing back and forth and two searchlights located on platforms which +were also occupied by a machine gun and its crew. But there was a yard +and a few trees and shrubs. + +"Not as bad as a prison camp," Stan said. + +"Not very good," O'Malley said as he stood looking up at one of the +machine-gun nests. + +The boys were taken to a room on the ground floor where they met several +other fellows from the Eighth. They had been located at the camp for +several months and were eager to hear news from England. + +Stan and O'Malley talked with them for a while, answering their +questions. One of the boys, a bombardier from a Fort, explained the +workings of the camp. + +"They change us around quite a bit. New men come and some of the old +heads go. I figure they do that to nip any escape attempts in the bud." +He laughed sourly. "I never heard of anybody getting away from one of +these camps." + +Another chap drifted in and seated himself. He was a lank Britisher with +a mop of black hair. + +"I hear you hail from the fighter strip near Diss." + +"That was our outfit," Stan said. + +"I just got a new roommate who says he's a Yank who was stationed at +Diss," the Britisher grinned. "He got shot down a while back. He just +came out of a hospital. Got a bad rap on the head." + +"We'd like to meet him. He must be one of the boys we lost on our first +bombing coverage." Stan got to his feet. + +He and O'Malley went upstairs and into the little room. Two men were +seated on a bed playing cards. Stan halted in the doorway. Over his +shoulder, O'Malley said: + +"Sim!" + +At first Stan was not sure. The man looked like Sim Jones. He was +thinner and he had a freshly healed scar on his cheek. His face was +sallow and he looked much older. + +O'Malley barged past Stan and caught the man's hand. "Glad ye're alive," +he said eagerly. + +"O'Malley?" Sim stared at O'Malley as he said it. He looked up at Stan. +"Wilson, you here, too." + +Stan grinned. "Yes, I'm here. We cracked up on a fighter strip while +bombing with Mustangs. I'm glad you made it safely. When I last saw +you, your P-51 had buried its nose in the ground." + +Sim's eyes narrowed sharply. "That crack-up knocked me silly," he said +grimly. "I don't remember much." He put his hand to his head. "I was +nuts for quite a while, I guess. Even now I forget things. Sometimes I +forget what's happened." + +"You'll come around," O'Malley said cheerfully. + +"They might let us three have this room together," Sim said. "I'd like +to have you fellows around." + +"It could be fixed," the Britisher said. "They let us line up about as +we wish. I'll help you fix it. I've been here a couple of months." + +Stan went with the R.A.F. man. They located a non-com who told them to +shift around as they pleased. He seemed to know who Stan was and all +about him and O'Malley. + +"Ve treat you goot," he said. + +As they went back the Britisher said, "Some of these Nazis are beginning +to try to make friends with us. I guess they figure they may need some +friends among the Allies one of these days." + +"They certainly will," Stan agreed. + +The two boys with Sim gladly moved out and Stan and O'Malley moved in. +They found Sim silent and moody, as though he was brooding over his +capture and captivity. Stan spoke to O'Malley about it out in the hall. + +"Sim is in bad shape. He ought to be in the hospital. We'll have to +watch out for him." + +"He'll be after comin' around," O'Malley said confidently. + +They entered the room and found Sim staring out of a window. Again Stan +was struck by the change in the boy. He seemed to have aged at least ten +years. He turned toward them, then got up and closed the door. He walked +over to a picture on the wall and moved it. Behind it he revealed a +small hole in the paper. He placed his hands to his lips and shook his +head. + +Stan moved over and looked closely, then he pressed on the paper. There +was a small cylinder under the paper. He grinned at Sim and O'Malley. +Deftly he slit the paper with his fingernail and removed a strip of it, +revealing a listening device. Taking out his pocketknife he neatly +snipped one of the small wires. + +"That will take care of that. Later we'll hook it up again so they won't +be suspicious." + +"They listen to all new men everywhere," Sim said. Suddenly he began to +laugh. "But I have fooled them. I have worked out a way for us to +escape." + +Stan stared at him. He was not sure Sim was not still insane. + +O'Malley said eagerly, "Spill it. Escape is what I'm lookin' for." + +Sim went to the door and opened it. He looked up and down the hall, then +closed the door. + +"I was going to try it alone, but I may be able to take you fellows +along." He spoke slowly. + +"Sure, three can make a getaway easier than one," O'Malley said. Stan +said nothing. + +"Germany is cracking up fast," Sim went on. "Rotten inside with half of +the guards scared they'll be stood up against a wall and shot when the +invasion comes." + +"They didn't seem to be slipping much where we landed," Stan said. + +"But they are," Sim insisted. "I have a man fixed to take me out of here +and across Germany. I'm to get him out of the country and guarantee +he'll be safely kept over in England." + +"Swell," O'Malley put in. "When do we get going?" + +"It will take a day or so. He's no small fry either, he's a +non-commissioned officer with some authority. He thinks the Gestapo is +about to pick him off for not being tough enough." + +"It sounds a bit too easy to me," Stan said. "But I'd take any sort of +chance to get back into action." + +"Tomorrow I'll let you know if you can go along," Sim promised. "Now you +better hook that listening gadget up again." + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +ESCAPE + + +When Stan awoke the next morning Sim was gone from his bunk. He sat up +quickly, then lay back and let his stiff, sore muscles relax. There was +no hurry. He was not going any place that day, perhaps not for a long +time. Lying there he listened to O'Malley's deep snores and thought back +over the events of the past few hours. + +Those events had happened so swiftly and so explosively that they seemed +like the shadowy memory of a nightmare. He recalled that he had not +asked O'Malley how he had been captured. He had just taken it for +granted his pal had been through an experience the same as his own. It +was odd, too, the way things fitted together. The oddest of all was +finding Sim Jones billeted in the same prison. + +A knock sounded upon the door. "Come in," Stan called. + +O'Malley sat up in bed suddenly, pawing the blankets away from his +shoulders. He stared around the room, then scowled. The door opened and +a Nazi corporal entered. + +"Heil Hitler!" he said very loudly and clicked his heels together. + +"Good morning," Stan greeted. + +O'Malley just glared at the corporal. + +"I am Hans." The Nazi looked behind him, sticking his head out so that +he could see up and down the hall. He closed the door. "It is orders of +Herr General that prisoners be up and taking exercises by seven each +morning. I have let you sleep because you were very tired." + +"That was nice of you," Stan said. + +"I am goot to prisoners," Hans said. + +Stan swung his feet to the floor. He got out of bed and walked across +the room. Flipping a picture of Hitler aside, he exposed the microphone +in the wall. Hans rolled his eyes and clicked his heels. + +"Heil Hitler!" he almost shouted. "Tomorrow you will get out of bed and +be down in the yard by seven." + +Stan grinned. He reached up and disconnected the wire leading to the +instrument. + +"They listen all the time," Hans said. "They watch everyone. There is +more Gestapo than guards." + +"Nice country to live in," Stan remarked. + +O'Malley laughed and pulled the blankets up around his chin. + +"Sure, an' it needs a bit o' cleaning up," he said. + +Hans looked at him nervously. "You think the British and Americans come +soon?" he asked. + +"If they're later than next week, I'll be after speakin' to a few +generals harsh-like," O'Malley answered. + +"Perhaps not next week but soon," Stan said. + +"I am not a party member. I will go back to my little farm near Pilsen," +Hans said, "if it is permitted." + +"It could be fixed that way," Stan said and smiled. "Silence is golden, +but too much of it might make the Gestapo boys suspicious." He walked +to the picture of Hitler and connected the microphone again. + +"You will report at once for mess. Heil Hitler!" Hans clicked his heels +and did an about-face. He moved out of the room almost goose-stepping. +Stan grinned after him. + +"Get up, you bum," he called to O'Malley. + +O'Malley got out of bed and began dressing. Within ten minutes they were +in the hall. As they walked down it they passed no less than three +pictures of Hitler hanging on the walls. O'Malley moved every one of +them and peered behind it. + +"I don't like the scenery here," he grumbled. + +The mess was a large room which once had been a living room and dining +room combined. There were twenty prisoners, mostly R.A.F. men, all of +officer's rank. They looked bored and listless, but they greeted the new +arrivals with friendly interest. Sim was seated at the table. He looked +up and nodded. + +Breakfast was not bad and the boys ate everything set before them. After +breakfast the men went out into the yard. The sun was shining and the +air was warm, but there was a feel of winter in the wind which blew over +the high wall. + +Stan and O'Malley sat down on a bench with Sim. The other men busied +themselves with handball and quoits. Sim bent down and traced a line +with a stick in the dirt. + +"I have everything lined up. We get away tonight. A British colonel is +giving a lecture in the big room at nine tonight. I have fixed the +checker. We'll get away while that is on." Sim did not look up. + +"Hans is the checker?" O'Malley asked. + +"Yes." + +"Sure this isn't a trap? Things have been working too good around here," +Stan said. + +"This will not be easy," Sim answered in a low voice. "The chances are +about even we'll be shot before we get clear of the wire and the guard +lines. These guards do not shout at you, they shoot and then yell." Sim +laughed shortly. "But I'd rather be shot than rot here." + +"Sure, an' that's me, too," O'Malley agreed. + +"We'll be ready," Stan answered. + +"You cannot take anything with you," Sim warned. "Now we have to break +up. The guards are watching us." He got to his feet and walked away. + +"I think he's acting nuts for the benefit of the guards," O'Malley said. + +"If it turns out he really is nuts, we may find ourselves messed up with +lead," Stan answered. He got up and walked over to where the R.A.F. boys +were pitching quoits. + +"Care to get in?" a captain asked him. + +"Thanks, I'll have a try," Stan answered. + +O'Malley stretched out on the bench and went to sleep. He slept through +until lunch call was sounded. Stan mixed with the British officers and +learned what he could about conditions. He got their names so he could +report regarding them if he did get away. + +The afternoon dragged away and mess call sounded after one of the R.A.F. +officers had put the men through a stiff drill and a series of +sitting-up exercises. After mess Stan and O'Malley went to their room. +Sim was not there. + +"I didn't see Sim around the mess when we left, wonder where he went?" +Stan whispered. + +"You worry too much about him," O'Malley answered. "I bet he's snoopin' +around gettin' set to get us away." + +Stan stretched out on his bunk. They waited for Sim to show up, but he +did not come to the room. At eight o'clock Stan began to squirm. + +"They've probably nabbed him," he said sourly. + +"Sure, an' I'll start working on Hans if they have." + +They had been speaking in very low tones. Now Stan spoke louder. "Better +be getting ready to go to that lecture." + +"Sure," O'Malley agreed. + +The boys settled down to wait. O'Malley kept looking at his wrist watch. +Stan lay with his eyes closed. He was checking every angle of the +strange business. As near as he could gather, things were going badly in +Germany. The big crack-up might be near at hand. + +At five minutes to nine they heard steps in the hall. They passed down +the stairs. Boys from the rooms along the hallway were going to the +lecture. Stan got up and disconnected the microphone. O'Malley was +pacing about like a caged lion. They heard single footsteps and there +was a rap on the door. It opened and Hans stood there. + +"I am glad you have not yet gone to the lecture," he said. "Herr General +wishes to speak to you. You will come with me." + +Stan looked at O'Malley and O'Malley looked at Stan. Stan spoke +smoothly. + +"Couldn't we see the general after the lecture? We'd like very much to +hear the colonel." + +"It will not wait. Herr General is a very impatient man." + +There was nothing to do but go with Hans. Stan and O'Malley walked along +the hallway with the corporal, keeping a sharp watch for Sim. They did +not see him in the hallway or downstairs. Hans took them past the guards +at the outer garden gate and across the street to another house. In a +small hall room he nodded toward chairs. + +"You will be called," he said, then turned and hurried away. + +The outer door was open and the boys could see two sentries standing on +the front porch. + +"We have to get out o' here," O'Malley said. + +"Not a chance. There's no window and those two guards would see us +before we got within ten feet of them," Stan answered. "It's just a case +of sitting tight and hoping Sim waits for us." + +Near where they were sitting a door opened into another room. Stan +leaned over and looked at the door. It was not latched firmly and was +open about a half inch. He could hear men talking in the other room. +They were speaking in German. + +"You understand German. Listen to what they are saying," Stan whispered. + +O'Malley moved closer and listened. The men seemed to be arguing hotly. +Every once in a while one voice would be raised in anger. There were +three men in the room. O'Malley edged the door open a bit more and +peeped into the room. + +After a bit he straightened and grinned at Stan. "Sure, an' the general +is eatin' the tails off his staff. Some of 'em seem to think the war is +lost. They been tellin' him the German people are demandin' peace at any +price. I figure he's goin' to have one o' them shot." + +At that moment an orderly came rushing out of the office. He charged +past the boys without seeming to see them, and rushed out of the +building. + +"The general says if this leaks out, the Allies will invade at once. +He's sure mad." O'Malley laughed softly. + +A few minutes passed and the orderly returned with a squad of armed +soldiers led by a lieutenant. They stomped past the boys and into the +office. When they came out they were marching a captain and a major +before them. + +Five more minutes passed and the orderly came out. He seemed much +agitated. + +"You will come now," he said in husky English. + +The boys followed him into the office. Herr General was a burly fellow +with a bald head and a narrow chest. He had a monocle screwed into one +eye which made him look fierce and tough. He glared at the boys, then +snapped an order to the orderly. The man scurried away. + +"Come up to my desk, you," the general snarled. + +The boys moved up and stood waiting. + +"I have checked the answers you gave to questions asked you when you +were captured. You said an invasion will come at once. Why did you say +that?" + +Stan stared at the officer. "We didn't say any such thing," he answered +evenly. He decided that the general had heard some of their conversation +over the listening device. + +"Sure, an' you got big ears, General," O'Malley said. + +Stan kicked him on the shin. The general jumped and puffed out his +chest. He fixed O'Malley with a cold glare. + +"Pig! Fool! Keep a civil tongue in your head or you will regret it +much." + +"If you brought us here to get information, you will be disappointed, +General," Stan said. "We will not talk." + +"I brought you here to tell you that we intend to make you talk," the +general barked. "I merely wished to warn you and then to let you have a +little time to think it over." + +"We are prisoners of war," Stan reminded him. + +"The code provides for disciplining prisoners of war. We have some very +effective methods. You will talk and be glad to. Now get out." + +Stan and O'Malley turned toward the door. Two armed men stood waiting +for them. They marched out with the guards close behind them. + +"Sure, an' this is a nice mess," O'Malley grumbled. + +"Could be worse," Stan said. + +The guards left them after passing them into the yard of their house. +They headed for their room. Passing through the outer hall, they saw +that the lecture was still going on in the living room. They went up the +stairs. + +Stan opened the door and O'Malley shoved into the room close behind him. +They stood looking at Sim's bunk. The straw ticking of the mattress had +been slit open and some of the straw was scattered on the floor. Sim was +not in the room. Stan walked over to a little table. One small light +bulb was flooding the room with light. + +"He was here and left in a hurry. He didn't turn off the light." + +"I'm gettin' out o' here," O'Malley growled. + +"Sit down. We're staying," Stan said sharply. He pulled off his coat and +tossed it across his bunk, then he seated himself on the foot of his +bed. + +"We're going to get it in the neck, anyway," O'Malley scowled. + +"Do you know where we are, in what part of Germany?" + +"Somewhere near Berlin," O'Malley said. + +"Sure, but where? We need more dope on the grounds and on the country +around us. We wouldn't get a mile from this prison farm if we did break +out." + +O'Malley sat down on his bed. "Sure, you're right. We should have had +Sim tell us something about this deal." + +"Now that you mention it, Sim never told us anything," Stan said. + +"Probably didn't know anything," O'Malley growled. + +They sat looking at each other, waiting, trying to discover some lead +that might help them. Finally Stan said: + +"We'll have to clean up that straw and fix Sim's bed before anyone comes +in here snooping around." + +"Yeah," O'Malley said but he did not move. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +FLIGHT + + +Stan began cleaning up their room so that the guards checking rooms that +night would not notice Sim had gone. He wanted to give Sim as much of a +start as possible. While he was brushing the straw under Sim's bunk the +door opened. Both boys turned quickly. In the doorway stood Sim. His +lips were parted in a thin smile. + +"Sim!" Stan took a step toward the door. "We thought you had gone." + +"Quiet," Sim whispered. "Come with me." + +He turned and moved out into the hall with Stan and O'Malley at his +heels. They walked down the hall and into a corner room. Sim crossed the +room and opened a window. They saw a rope dangling over the sill. + +Stan peered into the darkness below but could see nothing. "There +should be a guard right under this window," he whispered. + +"He has been taken care of," Sim hissed. "You go down. We will follow." + +"Didn't you get any guns or grenades?" O'Malley asked. + +"No," Sim answered sharply. "Hurry." + +Stan climbed through the window and slid down the rope. When his feet +hit the ground he wiggled the rope. A minute later O'Malley was at his +side. Sim arrived within another minute. He caught the boys' arms and +began moving away from the house. + +Sim led them to the wall and along it until they came to a gate. It was +open; Sim paused and Stan and O'Malley peered out. A small light burned +above the gate. The light revealed a truck filled with cans. Stan +grinned in the darkness. The truck was a garbage lorry. The night breeze +carried that information to him. The truck smelled very strong. + +"We hide among the cans," Sim whispered. + +At that moment two men appeared carrying a can. They heaved it into the +truck. One of them fastened a chain across the back opening, then they +moved toward the cab of the truck. + +"When the light is snapped off!" Sim whispered. + +From the kitchen of the house a voice shouted something in German. The +truck driver answered. The light snapped off and Sim started forward +with the boys beside him. The truck was sputtering and backfiring, +pouring out rank smoke as they reached it. They went into it as it +lurched forward. All of the cans came clanging back against the chain, +almost shoving the boys out. + +Quickly the three moved cans until they were up in the front of the +truck next to the cab. There they crouched down with their knees pulled +up. The cans made so much noise there was no danger of the boys being +heard. + +"'Tis a sweet smellin' cab ye called," O'Malley observed. + +"The smell will keep the Germans from examining it very closely," Sim +answered and Stan heard him chuckle. "When we come to a lighted town +we'll each have to get into a can." + +"They're full o' garbage," O'Malley protested. + +"We'll empty three cans," Sim said. "Might as well do it while we're on +this rough country road." + +The truck was bouncing and the cans were banging. The noise was terrific +and the darkness total. Stan got hold of a can. It was heavy, but with +O'Malley's help he was able to lift it up and tip it over the edge. The +contents poured out on the side of the road. Two more cans were dumped. + +"There goes a lot of meals for the prisoners in the ghetto," Sim said +and laughed. + +"You mean to say the skunks feed prisoners garbage?" Stan asked. + +"I've been told they let the prisoners of the lowest class pick over the +garbage," Sim answered. + +Stan felt his stomach begin to turn over. O'Malley said nothing. For +once he was stumped for words. They moved the cans to the center and +well forward and crouched beside them. + +The truck rattled on through the night. Presently they saw lights ahead. + +"According to my map," Sim said, "that should be a well-lighted +inspection post. We better get into the cans." + +The boys got into the cans. Stan kept his head well up out of the can. +He meant to keep it up in the wind until it was absolutely necessary to +duck down. + +The truck swung in under a row of lights. Stan ducked down and held his +nose. There was much guttural shouting. Several men moved around the +truck. They poked bayonets among the cans and against them. Stan felt a +blade strike the can he was in. The can gave out a dull clinking sound, +indicating it was full. Stan grinned. Someone shouted an order and the +truck rolled on. + +As soon as darkness closed over them the boys popped out of the cans. +O'Malley was talking to himself in very rich Irish. + +"If I'd known this was goin' to happen to me I'd have brought along a +blanket to wrap meself in," he growled. "We'll smell so bad we won't be +able to hide any place." + +Stan laughed. "They won't need blood-hounds to track us," he admitted. + +"We will get other clothing," Sim said. + +The truck rolled on, crossing a hill and dropping down toward a town. +Lights winked ahead of them and the road became smoother. + +"We unload pretty soon," Sim said. "There will be a small farmhouse on +the right with tall trees. We get off there. The farmer is a member of +the underground." + +"Underground in Germany?" Stan asked in surprise. + +"They told me it was well established and doing a big business. People +are paying well to get out of Germany before it collapses." Sim was +swinging a leg over the side as he spoke. + +The boys got out of the truck and clung to the outside. They saw dark +forms of trees and a light in a window. + +"Now," Sim whispered as he swung away from the truck. + +Stan heard him land with a thud. Stan jumped and landed in a hedge +beside the road and rolled on into tall grass. O'Malley hit close beside +him, and they crouched behind the hedge watching the truck. It went +rattling on into the night. Sim called to them. + +"Come on. We have to hurry." + +They moved over beside him and he headed across an open field toward the +lighted window. As they neared the house, a dog began barking. Sim +halted and they stood waiting. A door opened and a man shouted at the +dog. Sim moved forward. + +"Hello," he called. + +The door closed suddenly and Stan heard the man walking over gravel +toward them. They advanced to meet him. Sim spoke as soon as he was +close. + +"We were sent by Hans." + +"Goot. Come, I show you," the man answered. + +They walked with him to the house and he opened the door. "Quick," he +mumbled. He began pushing them through the door. + +There was no need to shove. The boys dived inside and the German closed +the door. He moved to a window and pulled down the blind, then he faced +them. He was a short man with a beefy face. His stomach rolled out over +a wide leather belt. + +"I get you clothes," he said gruffly. + +Disappearing into another room he returned after a time with an armload +of clothing which he tossed on a table. The boys changed into rough +shirts and dungarees. The clothing was coarse, but it was clean. The +German gathered up their uniforms. + +"These I burn," he said and left with them. + +"We have to move on at once," Sim said. "This place will be searched +before morning. The Germans are very thorough." + +The boys seated themselves and waited. Their host was gone for a long +time. Finally Sim got up. + +"I'll go hurry him along," he said. "You stay right here." He left the +room hurriedly. + +"Sim is no nut. He has this all worked out," O'Malley said. + +"He certainly has," Stan agreed. He got up and moved to the door Sim had +just closed. Opening it gently he went into a dark room. Feeling his way +he moved to another door. He could see a shaft of light under the door. +Halting with his hand on the knob, he listened. Sim was talking with +their underground agent in German. Stan opened the door quickly. The +two men whirled about and faced him. + +"I didn't know you spoke German," Stan said. + +"You should not be sneaking around," the German said sharply. + +"I have always spoken German," Sim answered. "I learned it in school +back home. How did you think I managed to line things up so well if I +didn't know German?" + +"We got worried," Stan said. "Thought something might have happened to +you." + +"I just wanted to make sure these uniforms were burned," Sim said and +laughed. "German farmers are thrifty people. They hate to burn good wool +cloth, which can't be bought for any price here. These people have only +ersatz cloth." + +"We go now," the German said and scowled at Stan. + +"Did he burn them?" Stan asked. + +"He buried them in his orchard. We don't have time to waste having him +dig them up," Sim answered. + +O'Malley had heard the talking and joined them in the kitchen. + +"Everybody's here, so let's go," Stan said. He was trying to remember +if Sim Jones had ever talked to him about his past. He could not +remember the flier ever having said much about himself. + +The German took the lead and they followed him out through a back door. +They walked down a path and came to a small barn. Stan heard a horse +snort. The German spoke softly to Sim in German. + +O'Malley answered the man in German. The fellow jumped and O'Malley +laughed. Too late Stan kicked O'Malley warningly upon the shin. Stan +frowned. He should have warned O'Malley. Now the man knew he could speak +and understand German. Sim looked at O'Malley and laughed. + +"It seems we will be able to get on very well with two of us speaking +the native tongue," he said. + +"You talk Kraut?" O'Malley asked. + +"Come, we waste time," the German said. He moved into the barn with the +boys at his heels. + +The guide untied a horse and led it out through a back door. There, by +the light of the stars, the boys saw a two-wheeled cart loaded with +hay. The German hitched the horse to the cart. + +"Hide in the hay," he said. + +The boys climbed into the cart and burrowed under the hay. Stan worked +his way well forward with O'Malley and Sim close beside him. They were +forced to lie very close together because the cart was narrow. They +worked an opening for air and lay on the hard boards. The German spoke +to the horse and the cart moved off. + +The cart joggled over rutty roads for hours. Daylight began to show +through the straw opening. Stan wiggled over against the slats on the +side of the cart and poked a hole to look through. They were moving +along a country lane. The cart turned out and a wagon passed. It was +loaded with farm workers. Behind the wagon came a motorcycle and +sidecar. A German soldier sat in the sidecar, while another, with a +rifle slung across his back, drove the motorcycle. The driver shouted at +the German on the seat of the cart, but he did not stop him. + +O'Malley began squirming. He was in the middle and could see nothing at +all. + +"Be still!" Sim snapped. "You'll shake hay loose and someone may become +suspicious." + +O'Malley lay still but he made Stan tell him what he saw. They passed +other wagons loaded with slave labor going to the fields, as well as +many farmers, both men and women, on the way to work. + +The German kept on driving and no one stopped him. Noon came and he +still kept on. The boys were getting hungry and thirsty, but the driver +did not halt. He pulled out a bag from under the seat and munched a +sausage sandwich, washing the food down with draughts from a brown jug. +O'Malley was able to see this. + +"Sure, an' I've a mind to reach up there an' grab that sandwich," he +said hungrily. + +"Better not," Stan warned. + +O'Malley held his appetite in check, but he kept on grumbling. + +"Stop watching him eat," Stan advised in a whisper. + +"Sure, an' I can't take me eyes off that sausage sandwich. 'Tis the most +appetizin' thing I iver seen," O'Malley said mournfully. + +The cart rattled through a village and moved on down another narrow +lane. Presently they came to a gate and the driver pulled up. Stan +ducked back. + +"German soldiers," he whispered warningly. + +The soldiers were shouting at the driver. He got down and began talking +to them excitedly. + +"They're looking for escaped prisoners," O'Malley whispered in Stan's +ear. + +Three burly soldiers walked over to the cart and began thrusting their +bayonets into the hay. Stan stiffened. If he was stabbed he meant to +make no outcry. He felt the cold steel move across his body a few inches +from his chest. It slipped back, then stabbed again. Stan was glad the +bed of the cart had a ten-inch high board around it. + +After more shouting and poking the driver got back on his seat and the +cart moved forward. + +"Boy," Stan muttered. "That was a close shave." + +"I got a small cut," Sim said. + +"And you didn't yell?" O'Malley spoke admiringly. + +"It would have been the end for us if I had yelled," Sim answered. + +The cart continued to jog along slowly. Long shadows fell across the +road and the cart passed many farmers returning from the fields. + +"I could eat a boiled dog," O'Malley grumbled. + +"We'll eat later," Sim assured him. + +Darkness settled slowly. The driver turned off the road into a narrower +lane as soon as it was dark. + +"No traveling is allowed after dark," Sim explained. "We must be near +our second station." + +The cart halted and the driver called to them. + +"Come out now." + +They climbed out and flexed stiff muscles. O'Malley faced the driver. + +"I'm hungry. Got any food?" + +"Come with me," the man said. + +They entered a grove of trees and walked up to a tiny house. The house +was dark but, with the aid of a flashlight, the guide located a trap +door under some loose straw. He pulled it upward, revealing a stairs. +The boys went down into a cellar where their guide lighted an oil lamp. + +The cellar smelled stale but it had boxes to sit on and a table. There +was a box on the table. + +"Your food," the German said, nodding toward the box. + +He turned away and went upstairs again. They heard him close the door +and rake straw over it. O'Malley opened the box at once. It contained a +loaf of heavy bread, a few pieces of cold sausage and three boiled +potatoes. Also there was a jug which contained milk. + +Sim produced a heavy clasp knife and cut the bread. The boys made +sandwiches and munched them. The jug was passed around and they drank +out of it. + +"Sure, an' this is not a bad dinner," O'Malley said. "It compares +favorably with the last roast duck dinner I had in London." He grinned +at Stan. + +After finishing their meal the boys sat waiting for their guide. + +"He has to care for his horse and dispose of the hay," Sim explained. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +TRAPPED + + +The boys left the cellar very soon after finishing their meal. Their +guide led them down a country lane. They hiked along steadily for +several hours, then detoured through a field, making a wide circle. + +"We have to go around the patrol stations on the road," Sim explained. + +"It's nice to have a guide who knows the way," Stan said. + +"I understand the patrol posts are cleverly hidden. Without a guide a +man walking down the lane would trip an alarm wire and be caught in no +time at all." Sim seemed to know all about the methods used by the Nazis +to trap anyone fleeing the country. + +They kept walking until midnight. Then they rested for a half-hour, +lying in a hedge beside the road. After midnight they moved more +slowly. Several times they dived into the fields along the road to avoid +patrols moving swiftly along the lane on motorcycles. Once they almost +ran into a bicycle patrol. The cyclists did not make any noise and were +upon the boys before they had time to duck. A leafy hedge saved them +from being sighted. + +"We will have to cross the Dutch border soon," Sim said after talking +with their guide. + +"There won't be much of a guard there, will there?" Stan asked. "The +Germans have made Holland a part of Germany." + +"There is a strict border control," the guide answered. "The Dutch are +just pigs and are kept in their pen." + +"That's what the Nazis say," Sim added. + +"Sure," the guide agreed. "The Nazis say that." + +"How are we to get through?" Stan asked. "You must have a method which +works." + +"Sure," the guide said. "But it has always been risky. We may be +separated. If we are separated, you will ask a Dutchman to take you to +76 Mamur in Arnhem. Do not speak to a Dutchman wearing a swastika. Ask +only of a farmer or other working person." + +"We all will meet there," Sim said. "After that, we will have no more +trouble. The Dutch will take care of us." + +"Now we go," the guide said. + +"At any rate, we know where we are," Stan said to O'Malley. "Arnhem +isn't so far from Rotterdam." + +"Sure, an' that just means nothin' to me. I'm stickin' with this here +guide," O'Malley answered. + +They moved along at a fast pace for some time. Finally the German called +a halt. There seemed to be quite a bit of activity ahead; besides, dawn +was not far away. They had spent most of the last hour ducking patrols +roaring up and down the lane. + +"We must move very carefully now. We will leave the road. Keep close to +me," the guide said in a low voice. + +The party moved off the road and through a hedge. Beyond the hedge they +found themselves in a plowed field. The ground was soft and damp. +Moving slowly now, because they sunk in to their boot tops, the boys +crossed the field and came to a canal. Stan could see murky water in the +ditch. He judged the canal was about fifteen feet wide. + +They followed the canal for some distance. Lights ahead caused the guide +to halt. Stan could see men on both sides of the canal. They were +silhouetted against the sky and were moving back and forth. + +"We must pass through the guard lines here," the guide whispered. "There +will be soldiers with rifles on each side of the canal. There is much +barbed wire and many electrical alarms along the border. We must take to +the canal." + +"Sure, and it looks cold, that water," O'Malley muttered. + +"We will keep close to the bank, two on each side. When we pass the +guards above we must crouch down in the water and stay against the bank. +We must go very slow. Waves or movement of the water will be noticed." + +"Lead on," Stan said grimly. "Let's get it over with." + +"Those on the far bank will wade across after we pass the border. We +will then go to Arnhem and hide there during the day." The German was +sliding down the bank into the water as he spoke. + +"O'Malley and I will cross over," Stan said. He wanted to keep O'Malley +with him. + +The water was icy and numbed their bodies almost at once. Stan and +O'Malley waded across the canal. The bottom was muddy and the water came +up to their necks. With chattering teeth they reached the far bank and +began moving along in the black shadows next to overhanging grass. + +Slowly the boys inched forward, being careful not to send ripples out +across the water. As they neared the sentry post the water was well +lighted from electric floodlights set on each bank. Stan halted and +flattened himself against the grass. + +A sentry was standing on each bank, his rifle butt resting on the +ground. Both were looking down at the canal intently. Stan pulled +O'Malley close to him. + +"We'll have to get down until just our heads stick out, then inch +forward," he whispered. + +"Inch away," O'Malley whispered back. His teeth rattled louder than his +words. + +Stan sank down into the water and they began moving slowly ahead. Inch +by inch they entered the lighted area and moved on. A water rat swam +past them in the middle of the canal. It left a wide ripple behind it, +and the sentries jerked up their guns. One of them laughed and picked up +a rock. He tossed it at the rat. The rat dived with a loud splash. Both +soldiers laughed loudly and one of them lighted a cigarette. + +Stan shoved ahead a bit faster. They moved directly under the sentries +and kept on going. Slowly they edged away down the stream. The light on +the water became dimmer and finally faded out. + +"How about crossin' over? I'm frozen stiff," O'Malley hissed between +chattering teeth. + +"O.K.," Stan answered. They moved out into the canal and waded across. +Climbing out on the bank, they sat shaking and shuddering. + +"Wonder where Sim is?" O'Malley asked. + +"We better wait here. They may not have moved as fast as we did." Stan +began rubbing his legs to warm them. + +They heard no sounds except those coming from the post on the bank of +the canal. Finally Stan moved. + +"We stayed in the canal quite a long distance. They may be up or down +the canal. But no matter which way, they are sure to be waiting for us. +We can't stay here because daylight will be breaking very soon. I'll +work my way back toward the border; you move the other way. When we find +them, we'll turn back and meet." + +"Good idea," O'Malley agreed. He moved off at once. + +Stan headed back along the bank of the canal. He kept as close to the +edge as he dared, because he figured Sim and the German would be sitting +on the bank. After going a few yards he got down on his hands and knees +and crawled. He would be able to go only a few yards more because the +floodlights were growing strong. In a few more minutes he could turn +back and be sure Sim was downstream. + +He was moving along, crawling slowly, when he felt the bank under him +begin to sag and slip. With a swift effort he tried to pull himself away +from the canal. The cave-in took a big slice of earth with it. Stan's +grasping hands found only torn roots and wet mud. He went over the edge +and into the canal along with a half ton of earth. He and the dirt hit +the water with a terrific splash. + +Instantly a floodlight snapped on and swung around to sweep the canal. +Stan went down in a mass of mud and water. He came up pawing and +struggling. Men began shouting on the shore. Stan ducked under the icy +water and plunged toward the bank. He came up against the grassy bank +and shook the water out of his eyes. Both banks were swarming with +soldiers. + +Stan thought fast. He wanted the others to escape. They had to get away. +He was getting set for another dive when the searchlight found him and +pinned him to the bank like a trapped animal. Guards with machine guns +covered him threateningly. He didn't have a chance. An officer was +shouting at him in German. + +"Hold your fire, I'll get out," Stan shouted. He wanted to hold the +attention of the men until his friends got away. + +"A Britisher," the officer shouted. "Get out on the bank!" His English +was a bit thick but understandable. + +Stan climbed out and was surrounded by armed men in an instant. He was +marched up the bank and halted under the floodlight. The officer stood +glaring at him. + +"Where do you come from?" he demanded. + +"I came out of that canal, and it was a bit chilly," Stan answered. "I'd +appreciate some dry clothing." + +"American!" the officer exclaimed. "A spy dressed in the clothes of a +farmer." + +"I just borrowed these. I'm not a spy. You can check up on that." Then +Stan clamped his lips shut. If he revealed his identity now, the Germans +would know where to look for O'Malley and Sim. + +"A spy, no less," the officer snapped. "Come with me." + +"Gladly," Stan said. + +He was taken to a small shack a few yards back from the canal. There was +a stove in the shack and Stan edged close to it. The officer stepped to +a wall phone and put through, a call. He talked quite a while and +finally began to laugh loudly. After he hung up he turned to Stan. + +"The colonel agrees you are a spy and a very dumb one. You will be sent +to him and he will have you shot at once. It is easy to see why you +Americans cannot fight the Germans. You are careless fools, all of you." + +Stan grinned. He figured the officer was the dumb one. He had not even +asked Stan if there were any other men with him. + +"I guess you're right, Captain," he said. "But if I'm to be shot I +should be made comfortable. How about some dry clothes? I may contract +pneumonia and die before you get to question me." + +"I will deliver you to the colonel. What he does with you is no affair +of mine." The captain opened the door and called to his men outside. + +Stan walked out and a squad of four men marched him to an open car. He +was shoved into the back seat and the guards climbed in, three with him +and one in front. Stan was grateful for the packed condition in the +rear seat, because chill air began to swirl back on him as they roared +away. He got a little warmth from the soldiers crowded in with him. + +Day was breaking as they moved into a city. Stan figured it was Arnhem. +The car pulled up in front of a long stone building and Stan was hustled +inside. He was taken into a bare room and left there alone. There was +some heat in the room and he ceased shaking. + +An hour passed and a tall soldier came into the room. He beckoned Stan +to follow him. They walked down a hall and entered another room. Here +Stan was served a bowl of potato soup. It was watery thin, but it was +hot. His jailer sat watching him as he ate. When he had finished, the +man nodded and got to his feet. Stan followed him down the hall again +and into a room furnished as an office. A fat German colonel sat at a +desk. His bloated cheeks puffed out and he burst into a hearty laugh +when he saw Stan. His fat stomach heaved as he laughed, and his +bristling mustache made Stan think of a walrus he once had seen in a +zoo. + +Stan stood waiting. For the life of him he could see nothing so funny +about his personal appearance. He looked the colonel over with a +critical eye. The colonel ceased laughing and regarded Stan closely. + +"Lieutenant Stan Wilson, Eighth Air Force, U.S.A.," he said softly. "But +for my purposes a spy, caught creeping up on one of our outposts dressed +as a German farmer." + +Stan jumped in spite of himself. The colonel knew his name. That was +bad. He said nothing, knowing the colonel would explain more in detail. + +"You American swine are such fools, so easy for the German mastermind to +handle. But you are the prize _dummer_ of all. We gave you a chance to +escape along with your friend Lieutenant O'Malley, and you had to get +caught in spite of us." He leaned back and laughed loudly. + +"Sim Jones was a spy?" Stan shot the question at the colonel. + +"Sim Jones is no spy, but Herr Egbert Minter is a spy and a very clever +one. He fooled you men into thinking he was Jones. You were trapped by +a very clever actor, Lieutenant." The colonel patted his stomach and +smiled broadly. "I have been given a complete file upon the case along +with orders to put you out of the way." + +"Why should you let us escape?" Stan asked. + +"As you will not live to tell about it, I may as well enlighten you." +The colonel fairly beamed. "When Herr Minter and the redheaded +lieutenant reach England, as they will, Minter will send us information +as to a big raid we are sure you are planning. After Lieutenant O'Malley +and Herr Minter tell your High Command how near collapse Germany is, +they will make the raid with everything they have to knock us out of the +war." The colonel bent forward. "We were careful to stage many little +scenes for your benefit. I am sorry only that this O'Malley person is to +get through to tell how weakened Germany is within her own borders. You +would have served much better." + +Stan stared at the German and his teeth clamped shut hard. "A very +clever set of tricks, Colonel," he said coldly. "But they won't get you +any place. Minter won't be able to get a message out in time." + +"We already have the radio equipment where he can use it. We have made a +careful study of the habits of Lieutenant Jones. You see he was knocked +a bit out of his head and talked a great deal about his home and about +his career in the service while he was in the hospital." The colonel +leaned back. "I, Colonel Glotz, had no small part in this and will earn +an advancement. Heil Hitler!" He snapped the words out sharply. + +"And you intend to shoot me?" Stan said. + +"Perhaps, unless you can give us some information regarding this new +fighter craft you were flying." + +Stan's eyes narrowed. He was sure Colonel Glotz's orders did not call +for shooting him on the spot. He would have a little time to plan an +escape. His chances would be desperately slim, he knew that, but he had +faced death many times before and had always cheated the final pay-off. + +"Well?" Glotz asked. + +"I don't know what I could tell you," Stan said, pretending to be +debating with himself. + +"We'll give you a few hours to think it over. I have some important +messages to dictate." Glotz rang a bell and two guards appeared. They +stepped up beside Stan and nodded toward the door. + +Stan was marched out into the hall and down a few doors to a small room. +He was shoved inside and the door was locked. There was a cot and a +table in the room. A small light bulb dangled from a cord. Its feeble +light was necessary because the room was an inside one without windows. +Except for a barred transom over the door, there was no means of +ventilation. + +Stan sat down on the cot to think. He had to get away and warn the +Eighth Air Force of the trap being baited for them. That matter was more +important than saving his own neck. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +SPY + + +Stan lay on the cot for several hours, looking up at the dangling light +bulb. He had been able to think of no plan of escape that seemed likely +to succeed. But after careful thought he was convinced Colonel Glotz had +been merely showing off. Stan felt certain Glotz would have to wait for +orders from his superiors before he did anything. Those orders, however, +could come through very quickly. + +His thoughts were disturbed by the rattling of the iron bar across the +outside of his door. The door creaked open and a man in civilian clothes +entered. Stan heard the shuffle of feet outside in the hall and knew +armed guards were waiting. The civilian was a slender man with a big +nose and a very small chin. He looked at Stan out of little eyes set +close together. + +"Sorry to disturb your rest, Lieutenant Wilson." The man bowed stiffly. +"I am Domber." He said it as though Stan ought to know him once he had +mentioned his name. + +Stan nodded and remained seated on his cot. Domber rubbed his hands +together and smiled. + +"You will go with me," he said. "We will have a nice long talk." + +Stan got to his feet. Domber stepped to the door. He frowned at the two +armed guards waiting for them. + +"The military have odd ways. They always have guards about." + +"They are funny that way," Stan agreed dryly. + +They walked down the long hall and entered a small office. Its one wide +window looked out upon a tree-lined street. There were no bars on the +window and one of its side wings stood open. Stan saw people walking up +and down the street. An expanse of smooth turf lay between the window +and the sidewalk. Stan turned back to Domber, who had seated himself at +a desk. + +The office had nothing military about it. There were no war maps on the +wall. The only picture was one of Hitler, hung back of the desk. There +was an adding machine, two sets of files, several large cabinets with +steel doors, and a desk with a typewriter on it. Stan smiled at the +little blonde seated before the typewriter. She returned his smile with +a severe and steady look out of her gray eyes. No help there, Stan +thought. + +"Be seated," Domber said, pointing to a chair beside the desk. He fished +out a box of cigars, flipped the lid open, and extended the box toward +Stan. "Smoke?" + +"No, thanks," Stan said. + +Domber selected a cigar after turning several over. "Such poor cigars. +I'll be glad when the war is over and I can again import some of my +favorite Tampa Perfectos." He snipped the end off the cigar with a gold +clipper, then jabbed a full inch of the end into his mouth and rolled +the cigar around as though tasting its flavor. "Now," he said, "we will +get down to business." + +Stan leaned back and waited. + +"I went to considerable trouble to get this chance to talk with you. The +colonel is a bloody old coot. All he thinks of is shooting people. I +have other interests besides killing men. My hobby is planes." Domber +bent forward. + +Stan was instantly on the alert. He noticed the stenographer had placed +a sheet of notes on a rack and was clicking away on her typewriter, but +he did not think she was copying from her notes. He was sure she was +going to record what he said. + +"You have had a chance to work with many new ideas. You'll be with us +until after the war, so I see no reason why we shouldn't have a chat +about new wrinkles." He smiled and rolled his cigar. + +"I understood I was to be shot as a spy," Stan said. + +"The military is bent upon it, but I have much influence. I could have +you designated a prisoner of war. Tomorrow I will see the Fuerher +himself." + +"What do you want to know?" Stan realized this was a chance to stay +alive for a time. If he could interest Domber without giving away any +secrets, he might be given a chance to escape. + +"You were flying a P-51, a Mustang, the British call it." + +"Yes." + +"This ship has some very interesting equipment on it, some typically +American improvements." + +"Just what features do you mean?" Stan asked. + +"I operate a plane factory. We have been experimenting with a +supercharger. The one on the P-51 is something new. If you can recall +some of the details...." Domber leaned forward. + +"You haven't captured one intact yet?" Stan asked. + +"No, and the possibility seems quite remote. You Yanks have been very +clever in fixing it so that that particular piece of mechanism is always +smashed when a ship lands." + +"I'm not an instrument man. I just fly planes," Stan said. "But I have +had general instructions on the new dual supercharger." Stan spoke +slowly. + +"You might, perhaps, be able to suggest repairs for one that is partly +destroyed?" Domber asked eagerly. + +"I have patched together some badly hashed ships," Stan answered. + +Domber rubbed his hands together. "I think we shall have a very pleasant +time working upon a P-51," he said. + +"Don't get your hopes too high, I'm no expert," Stan said. + +"When one is sure to be turned over to Colonel Glotz as a spy, one is +apt to be quite successful as a mechanic, what?" Domber beamed. + +"If I don't make good on this I'm to be shot?" Stan looked Domber +squarely in the eye. + +"I'm afraid so. It would be very painful to me, I can assure you. I do +not like to see men shot. But we won't think of that. We'll have lunch +and then we'll get at the job." He turned and spoke to his secretary in +German, then shot a glance at Stan. + +"He wants to see if I understand German," Stan thought. He did not show +any interest and Domber smiled broadly. + +"We will go out to lunch now," he said. + +Outside the door the two guards fell in behind them. Stan smiled as he +thought of the appearance they made. Domber was dressed in a natty suit. +He wore spats and carried a small cane, which his secretary handed him +as he walked out. There was a red feather in the bow on his snap brim +felt hat. Stan was dressed in a wrinkled and soiled outfit that was +streaked with mud. + +They walked out of the building and entered a big car. The guards got in +with the driver and the car pulled away. Stan noted looks of hate and +fear on the faces of the Dutch people in the street as they watched the +car slide past. He had a hunch Domber was known to these people; he also +had a hunch the plane maker was hated and feared by them. They stopped +outside a big house where four guards stood watch over the entrance. The +guards saluted as Domber got out. He puffed up like a pouter pigeon and +shouted: + +"Heil Hitler!" + +They walked up the steps and entered the house. A man met them in the +vestibule. He took Domber's hat and cane and stared at Stan. + +"See that Lieutenant Wilson is furnished a complete outfit of clothing. +Show him to the east room." Domber spoke in English. + +"Yes, Herr Domber," the man said and bowed. + +"Run along with Herman," Domber said. "I'll be having a brandy in the +library." He turned away at once. + +Stan followed Herman up a wide stairway and into a large room. It was +furnished in a luxurious manner. Herman bowed at the door. + +"You will wish me to draw hot water for a bath?" he asked. + +"Thank you, Herman, I will take a hot bath. See that there's plenty of +soap." Stan grinned. + +Herman drew water in the bathroom and laid out snowy towels. Coming out +of the bathroom, he said: + +"I will lay out clothing for you." + +Stan lost no time in getting into the tub. He splashed and built up a +mountain of suds, then wallowed in them. As he lay there he suddenly +began to laugh. This was the oddest experience he had ever had. Yet +there was something sinister about it. Domber had a fishy coldness about +him that was chilling. Stan decided it was the way he looked out of his +little eyes. There seemed to be a smoldering hate back of the light in +those eyes. + +Herman had laid out clothing, a business suit which was very close to +Stan's size, fresh linen, a shirt, a tie and a pair of dress shoes. +Herman was nowhere in sight. + +Stan dressed slowly. The shoes fit well and so did the shirt. Herman was +an expert man's man. He had sized Stan up correctly. As he knotted the +tie, Stan walked to a wide window overlooking a garden. There were no +bars on the window and the garden was deserted. No guards paced back and +forth. Stan began to wonder if he was not supposed to escape again. + +Walking to the door he opened it. The hallway was empty. Stan walked +toward the back of the house and found a balcony with a flight of steps +leading to the garden below. He wondered what would happen if he walked +down those steps and into the garden. With a grin on his lips he did +just that. + +Stepping off the last step he strolled into the garden. No one +challenged him, so he walked around the house. He was standing looking +out into an alley lined with trees. Suddenly a man stepped out from +behind a wall and bowed to Stan. + +"Luncheon is ready," the man said in perfect English. + +Stan noticed, as the wind whipped open the man's coat, that he was +wearing a heavy shoulder holster. He smiled. The man reminded him of a +Chicago gangster he once had seen captured. + +"I was just going in," he said. Turning about he entered the house. +Herman appeared at once and bowed. Stan followed him into Domber's +library. A table had been set before an open fire. Domber was seated in +an easy chair, puffing on a cigar. + +"Have a pleasant stroll in the garden?" he asked. + +"You certainly requisitioned a nice place for yourself," Stan remarked. + +"Oh, I have owned this for years," Domber said. "This is my home." + +That accounted for the hated looks the people on the street had given +Domber as he passed. He was a Dutch Quisling, a traitor to his own +country. Domber seemed to read Stan's thoughts. + +"I always have been credited with having brains enough to take care of +my business and my own comforts," he said dryly. Then he smiled. "But +sit down. We will see what we have for luncheon." + +The common people of Germany might be eating poorly and tightening their +belts, but Herr Domber's table gave no hint of lack of supplies. There +was real coffee, strong and black, fruit, fish, fresh vegetables and a +roast squab for each diner. Stan put aside all unpleasant thoughts and +ate heartily. + +While they ate, Herr Domber kept up a steady conversation. He talked +about fighter planes. Stan was surprised at the things Domber revealed +in a casual way. He gave a very good description of the new secret +rocket which was doing so much damage to the Forts and Libs, even +telling Stan how it was handled. Once in a while he would ask a +question. Each time Stan matched wits against the traitor to keep from +telling him anything important. + +After a while Stan was convinced Domber was so sure he would never live +to repeat what he had heard that he felt no need to be careful about +what he told the Yank. + +"I have had many guests, Dutch, Norwegian, British and now an American." +Domber beamed. "I have enjoyed each of them, and I am sure they never +complained of my hospitality." + +Back of the genial manner Stan felt the cold threat of death lurking in +the way the traitor looked at him. Domber was very sure of himself and +of his power. Stan resolved that he was going to be one guest who fooled +the Dutch Quisling. + +After dinner Domber showed Stan his collection of war trophies and his +laboratory and workshop. The laboratory was far more elaborate than the +workshop. Stan was fascinated by the plants and animals Domber kept +there. Domber laughed softly. + +"I experiment much," he said. Then he added, "I have done much with +poison gas as well as with rare drugs." + +"You plan to use poison gas?" Stan asked. + +"If our plans work out well, yes," Domber said frankly. "If Minter's +work is well done and we are able to smash a large part of the British +and American air power, we will launch gas attacks upon the principal +English cities and later make an invasion." He smiled slightly. + +"You have the planes?" Stan asked. + +"For one big blow. First we smash the air power, then we attack. We have +endured much bombing to save air power for this." Domber had ceased +smiling and for the first time his hate came to the surface. He shrugged +his shoulders suddenly. "But we waste time. We will have a look at the +P-51." + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +MUSTANG + + +Herr Domber led the way from his shop and laboratory to the street +entrance where a car was waiting. He scowled at the guards outside his +door and shouted, "Heil Hitler!" Then he marched down the walk to the +car. This time no uniformed guards went along. There was just the +driver, Domber, and Stan. + +Stan was beginning to get the idea that the Dutch Quisling disliked the +military. But he was not fooled into thinking Domber did not have his +own henchmen. The driver of the car was a powerful fellow with beetled +brows and scowling face. As soon as they pulled away from the curb, +another car slipped in behind them and never left them until they parked +outside a walled enclosure. + +They were getting out of the car when a German military machine roared +up and stopped. Two officers got out and moved stiffly toward the spot +where Stan and Domber stood. + +"Heil Hitler," Domber said. Then he opened up with an angry flow of +German. + +The officers snapped back at him and a heated argument raged. Stan +gathered the officers were angry because Domber had taken Stan out +without a proper armed guard. Apparently Domber won the argument. The +officers saluted and made off. + +"Such fools. They fear you would escape," Domber explained. "I have told +them you would not get a hundred yards before you would be killed. No +one has ever escaped from the Bloodhound." + +"Bloodhound?" + +"That is a pet name my Dutch friends have given me." He smiled at Stan. +"But come, we are being delayed." + +A gate opened and a man in coveralls came up to meet them. Domber spoke +to him and the man walked with them to a locked door in a second wall. +Producing a key, he opened the door and let them through. + +Stan was startled by what he saw. There was a sunken runway leading into +an underground hangar. Domber beamed. + +"Not a bomb ever falls here. Above our shops there is a church and a +schoolhouse. We do much valuable research here and cannot afford to be +disturbed." + +Stan looked along the runway. It ended abruptly at a steel fence, but a +roadway went on in a twisting course, making detection of the runway +difficult. + +"Very clever," Stan said. + +"I was sure you'd appreciate it," Domber said. "Now we'll have a look at +the P-51." + +They entered the underground hangar by going down a shaft in an +elevator. Stepping out of the elevator Stan saw a well-lighted and +spacious hangar. Various planes stood along one high wall. There was a +Fort, a Wellington, two Spitfires, a Lockheed Lightning, and at the far +end in a wide shop space stood a new P-51. Her nose was pointed out +toward the runway and she looked ready to glide out from underground and +take off. Domber laughed. + +"I'm sorry, but it can't be done," he said as though Stan had spoken +his thoughts out loud. + +"Can't blame me for thinking about it, can you?" Stan asked. + +They walked over to the fighter. She had been patched up and looked +airworthy enough. + +"Mind if I go up?" Stan asked. + +A dozen men working in the shop stood watching. "No, go ahead," Domber +said. + +Stan climbed up and into the cockpit. A glance showed him that there had +been considerable instrument damage which the German mechanics had not +been able to repair. He noticed at once that the engine was hooked up to +a small portable gasoline tank. That meant she had no fuel in her except +just enough to make test runs of the engine. It probably was a fire +hazard measure, but it also was one reason why Domber was so willing to +let Stan get into the cockpit. + +The other reason Stan soon discovered. Looking out, he saw on each side +of the opening to the runway, batteries of aircraft cannon. Those guns +could lay a concentrated cross fire over the runway so deadly that any +plane would be blown to bits in a minute. + +Stan climbed down out of the cockpit. He faced Herr Domber. "Just what +was it you wanted me to do?" He had to stall for time, more time. + +"You will assemble and repair the supercharger on that plane. Every tool +you need will be at hand, and if you need an assistant I will furnish +you one who speaks English." Herr Domber was smiling as he spoke. + +"That's a big order," Stan said. + +"My experts could do this, but it might take several weeks and we do not +have that much time. We have such a ship as this one. All we need is a +supercharger to make it the best ship in the world. Naturally I am +anxious and do not wish to lose any time." + +"I'll need an English-speaking helper. I may have to have parts made and +I do not run a lathe," Stan said. + +Herr Domber called a man over to him. After listening for a few minutes +the man left. He returned a few minutes later with a youngster not more +than eighteen years of age. + +"Swen, you will be Lieutenant Wilson's assistant. Help him in every way +you can. You are under his orders," Herr Domber said. + +"Heil Hitler," Swen said and saluted. He was a blond, curly-headed kid +with a ready smile. Stan grinned at him and said: + +"We'll get along." + +"You may talk freely to Swen," Domber said. "He is a tested party man, +but he does not like killing, so he is a mechanic. I have to watch him +to keep the generals from stealing him and sending him off to Russia to +fight." Domber laughed, but Stan saw fear come into the boy's eyes. + +"Anyone else speak English in the shop?" he asked. "I might want another +man." + +"No others," Domber said. "Now we must get to work." + +Stan was supplied with a locker and a pair of coveralls. He was taken to +a special room in the shop. There he found parts from P-51's recently +shot down. The smaller shop was completely equipped. Three other men +worked at benches before a window. Stan was assigned to a vacant bench. +Before him lay part of the new dual turbo-supercharger. Other parts were +stacked on a table. + +"Know anything about one of these gadgets?" Stan asked Swen. + +"Gadget?" Swen repeated in a British accent. + +"Yank word for machine," Stan explained. + +"No, I have never seen one before," Swen replied. + +Herr Domber stood around for a little while, then made off. Stan grinned +at Swen. He had decided to work upon the kid. There might be a chance to +do something. Swen, like most young Germans, was deadly afraid of being +sent to the Russian front. It might be that he secretly hated the men +who bossed him. + +At the next bench a tall mechanic was working with a part from a +Spitfire. Stan moved over to the edge of his bench. + +"Hand me that wrench," he said to the tall German. + +The German reached over and handed Stan the wrench. Suddenly his face +became very red and he spoke angrily in German. + +"Thanks, buddy," Stan said. "I'm glad you speak American." + +The German shrugged his shoulders and went on working. Swen looked at +Stan and said: + +"I am your helper. I could have handed you that wrench." + +"I just wanted to be sure Heinie, here, could understand everything we +say. I noticed that he was just playing with that oil gauge. It's an old +type that's been out of use for four years." + +The tall German's face got redder. He growled something and moved away. +Stan figured he was going to report he had been spotted. + +"Now, Swen," Stan said, "we're going to be friends, you and I." + +Swen looked scared. "Heil Hitler," he said. "I am not to be your +friend." + +"You won't get hurt," Stan said softly. "Just tell them everything I +tell you when they question you tonight." + +"They will kill you," Swen said in a low voice. "Herr Domber poisoned +the other one. He will do the same to you." + +"Tell me about it quickly. They won't be leaving us alone without a +spotter very long," Stan said. + +"I do not know how it was done. I heard the Gestapo men laughing about +it. The British flier thought he was going to get away. He fixed up his +plane and had gasoline enough for much testing. But after he had it +running and they learned what they wanted to know about it, he just fell +over dead." + +"That is quicker than working it out by themselves. Not much, but a few +days," Stan said grimly. + +At that moment the tall German who had been working at the next bench +came running up. He was out of breath when he halted before Stan. + +"I am to be your helper." He turned upon Swen. "Get out into the shop." + +"Sorry to lose you, Swen," Stan called after the boy. He turned to the +new helper. "They sure sent you back on the run. Did you get a good +skinning?" + +The German scowled at Stan. "I am to take orders," he muttered. + +Stan laughed. The softhearted Swen had been planted on him. They were +supposed to get chummy while the tall mechanic listened and picked up +anything of value which might be said. + +"What am I supposed to call you?" Stan asked. + +"Hans," the mechanic said shortly. + +"Well, Hans, we'll have a try at assembling this thing," Stan said. + +Stan worked on the supercharger all that afternoon and convinced himself +that he could fit it together and make it work. Toward evening Herr +Domber came back. He halted beside the bench and looked at the machinery +there. + +"You have had some success?" + +"I don't know," Stan said innocently. "I'll have to try it out on the +ship." + +"Certainly," Domber agreed. "Of course. When will you wish to try it +out?" + +"Tomorrow afternoon," Stan said. + +"If you worked tonight you could try it out in the morning?" Domber +suggested with a leer. + +"Yes, I guess so," Stan said. + +"Fine. I know you won't mind working tonight." + +"Of course not," Stan said and felt an itch to lay his fist against Herr +Domber's receding chin. + +"You will honor me by having dinner with me tonight?" + +"Certainly," Stan said and laughed. He might as well live high while he +could live. + +As they went out to enter Domber's car, Stan asked, "Why do you go to +all of this fuss? I can't understand you Germans. There was a lot of +fuss in planning to let us escape. Now you are putting on a big show for +me. You could get results without it." + +"We have much humor," Domber said. "I have my own little jokes and enjoy +them." He smiled at Stan. + +Stan thought about the R.A.F. flier who had been poisoned after he +revealed what Domber wanted to know. He decided Herr Domber was a bit of +a maniac as well as an enemy and a traitor to Holland. + +After an excellent dinner Stan was taken back to the job. Herr Domber +was in high spirits. Hans was waiting at the bench. Stan saw at once +that the mechanic had been trying to fit the machinery together. With a +grin he fished several parts out of his coverall pocket and set to work. + +As he worked he began to plan. If he was to be poisoned, it likely would +be done shortly before the tryout. He would have to watch closely. He +would drink nothing and he would eat nothing. And he would keep two +vitally important parts hidden until he had to put them into place. He +also would be very careful no one bumped into him and jabbed him with a +hypodermic needle. The last method of poisoning did not seem to fit in +with the character of Herr Domber. His method would be cunning and +crafty, and it would be done with a lot of showmanship. + +Nobody but Herr Domber, Stan decided, would have thought up such a crazy +method of saving a few days time, and of making away with a prisoner of +war. If he was called to face charges after the war, he could claim Stan +Wilson had turned traitor to his country and disclosed secrets before +meeting an accidental death. + +Stan looked at the machine on the bench. He was taking chances with +valuable secrets, but if he escaped he would be able to stop a mass +slaughter of British and American planes and men, perhaps even a gas +attack upon England. He decided it was worth the risk. + +"You work very slow," Hans complained. + +"You're here to take orders," Stan snapped. + +Hans jumped and scowled at Stan. He was so used to being snapped at that +he reacted without thought. Stan laughed. + +"You jump like monkeys when they yell at you, don't you?" he said. + +"Pig," Hans muttered under his breath. + +Stan went to work again. At twelve o'clock he took off his coveralls and +slipped several parts into his coat pocket. + +"Tell the boss I'm ready to go to bed," he said. + +Hans made off and while he was gone Stan did a few things to the +supercharger. Hans came back quickly. + +"Herr Domber will call for you," he said, then seated himself and +lighted a cigarette. + +Domber appeared a half-hour later, dressed in evening clothes. He was +beaming. + +"You have everything ready for a tryout in the morning?" he asked. + +"Everything," Stan assured him. + +"I must have a look at the machine," Domber said. He walked to the bench +and spent a half-hour studying the supercharger. Finally he turned to +Stan. "How much testing will be required to adjust it?" + +"It can only be adjusted by running the motor," Stan said and did not +smile. "I should say the plane could be ready for flight by afternoon." + +"You will run it that long?" + +"It may take even longer," Stan said. "This is a delicate bit of +machinery and I am not too familiar with it. I have only had a general +course in its construction." + +"In that case we will have the tanks connected and filled with +gasoline." Domber smiled broadly. + +"That will save time, and I understand that's what you are interested +in," Stan said. + +"Time, yes, we have to work fast." + +Stan grinned. He knew that Herman Goering's Air Ministry was wild with +fear and grasping at every straw of help they could get for their +fighter planes. They had to have something that would stop the +Fortresses and Liberators, or their cities would be destroyed, and they +had to have it quick. + +"Haven't you ever thought that I might sabotage this job?" he asked. + +"I think not," Domber said. "I am a student of the human mind. When I +have studied a man I know just about what he will do. I know you do not +wish to be turned over to the Gestapo and given the treatment they use +to get information." + +"No, I guess I'm not that much of a hero," Stan said. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +ZERO HOUR + + +As Stan worked on the supercharger he went over his plans carefully. +With everything about ready to make tests, he was beginning to wonder if +the story Swen had told him was not just the wild fancy of a scared kid. +He even thought of the possibility that Swen had been planted to get him +off on the wrong track. There had been so many crazy things happening +that he could not afford to overlook any angle. + +He had three mechanics helping him, with Hans giving his orders to the +two who spoke no English. As he worked he began to wonder if he had not +been neatly tricked. He was sure that at least one of the men hanging +around watching him was a Luftwaffe pilot. No one interfered with his +work or tried to tell him what to do. He was having as free a hand as +though he had been working in a shop of the Eighth Air Force. Some of +the men scowled at him, but most of them just watched with interest and +with something else. Stan guessed they were eagerly waiting for the trap +to spring. Then they could have a big laugh on the dumb Yank. + +The supercharger parts were about installed in the ship. Stan checked +the gasoline supply. There was just enough to fly him out over the +channel if he took off before he used too much. Once out over the +channel he might be able to water-crash the P-51 near a British patrol +or pick-up boat. The trouble was that the instant the engine began to +work the trap would be sprung on him. He had to figure that one out +fast. + +Swen showed up and hung around watching along with the other mechanics. +He grinned at Stan once and shook his head. Stan winked at him. Herr +Domber showed up in a sports outfit. His white spats gleamed and his +yellow tie shone. Domber was in a very genial mood. + +"You are progressing?" he asked. + +"I'm getting the thing together, but I don't know whether it will +work," Stan said. + +"We will have lunch at a café downtown today," Herr Domber said without +the flicker of an eye. "I have a special café in mind where the sea food +is excellent and the wine very choice." + +"That will be fine," Stan said and grinned as he hoisted himself up into +the ship. + +He lay inside the fuselage and looked at the supercharger. There was one +valve which he had not fitted. He was afraid that if he fitted that +valve into place the Mustang would purr like a cat. He was now convinced +that the Germans had had all of their trouble with the air mixture and +the pressure intake. His instructions on the new machine had been very +detailed on these points. They were the secrets of the new supercharger. + +Stan plugged the valve opening with a wad of cotton waste and tucked the +valve into his pocket. Of one thing he was sure, the Mustang's engine +had to be hot if he expected to snap her out of that hangar. And in +getting her hot he did not dare let her show signs of running smoothly. +Climbing out of the fuselage, he called to Hans: + +"We'll turn her up." He wiped sweat from his forehead. The air in the +hangar was hot, kept that way to make engine starting easy. + +Hans and his men wound up the Mustang. Stan climbed into the cockpit and +got set. From where he sat he could see, through a plate he had removed +from the panel, the adjustment valve he had seated with waste. He could +reach it by bending over. + +The Mustang's engine turned over and she sputtered once or twice but +refused to start. The wad of waste was no good. He had to seat the +valve. Looking out he shook his head to Hans. Then he noticed that +Domber was talking to an artillery captain over by the gate. He was +shaking his head and making violent gestures. + +Stan watched him carefully. It might be that Domber was telling the gun +captain not to blast the P-51 if it made a run. In that case Domber had +plans even if Stan got the ship away. Domber came back to the P-51 and +Stan looked the other way as he bent forward and seated the valve. + +The tough part was that if he hit the mixture just right in seating that +valve the engine would hit it off at once. Stan knew how those Allisons +worked. Given a hot room they might flip right over and go off with a +bang. He climbed out of the cockpit and made a few last checks on the +outside. + +A water boy came up and the men crowded around for drinks. Stan watched +the water boy carefully. He was again thinking about the poison +business. The water was in a pail and the men were dipping it out in a +tin cup. That did not look dangerous and Stan was very thirsty. He +turned his back and climbed into the cockpit again. He was down inside, +working on a repaired cable. Close to his face was the hole where the +shell had ripped through and severed the cable. + +Suddenly Stan heard someone whispering. It was the voice of Herr Domber. + +"Get set, fool, and when the boy offers him a drink you are to shake +your head. In that way he will think he has escaped being poisoned. He +is just stalling now. I want this ship tuned up. If you fail, it is the +Russian front for you." + +"Yes, sir. Heil Hitler," Swen's voice answered. + +Stan grinned broadly. He finished with the cable. One thing was sure. +The poison story had been a gag to make him think he had outwitted +Domber. He climbed out of the cockpit and walked over to Hans. + +"We'll hit her again," he said. + +Turning back he noted that several of the mechanics had moved in close. +A quick glance showed bulges under their coveralls which looked a lot +like army pistols or automatics. The water boy moved toward Stan. +Looking past the boy Stan saw Swen. Swen began shaking his head as Stan +looked at the water pail. Stan pretended not to see him, though Swen was +squarely in front of him. + +Reaching down he took the tin cup, filled it, and drank deeply. He had a +second drink, then tossed the cup to the boy. As he did so, he shot a +side glance at Herr Domber and almost burst out laughing. Domber's face +was red and his mouth was screwed into a snarl. Suddenly Stan felt sorry +for Swen. He nodded to Hans as he climbed up. + +Looking down he saw the mechanics with their bulging coveralls crowding +in close. Several of them had ripped their suits open and had their +hands inside. Stan eased back against the shock pad. The left brake was +the one to kick down hard. He had shoved the chock out from under the +right wheel. He had a momentary feeling that the builders of the Mustang +should have extended the armor plate further forward. The men on the +ground would have a clean shot at him. They were well forward now and +watching him like cats at a rat hole. + +Hans kicked the engine over to prime her. Stan got set and eased on the +switch. She turned over slowly, fired twice, idled, then fired again. +Sweat broke out over Stan's forehead. Below him the faces of Domber and +his men blurred. The engine kept on rumbling and sputtering. Stan +relaxed as he pretended to be working on the gas adjustment. + +He gave the valve a turn and the Allison smoothed considerably. Leaving +it that way he looked down at Hans, a deep frown on his face. He shook +his head and motioned to the mechanic. Hans did not know what he +wanted, but he moved around to the side of the ship. Stan was sorry to +have to use Hans as a shield but he knew, now, that a quarter turn more +on the valve would set the Allison roaring. What he needed was a bit +more heat on his temperature gauge, and he wanted to keep Hans in line. + +Bending over he bellowed at Hans, making his words jumble together. Hans +looked blank and shook his head. Stan scowled at him. Then he got a +bright idea. He looked over at Domber and beckoned to him. Domber came +over. He was shorter than Hans. Stan reached down and bellowed: + +"Get up and I'll show you how to adjust this type of supercharger!" + +He even gave Herr Domber a hand up on the step. Domber leaned into the +cockpit. Stan pointed to the valve. His fingers closed over it and began +to turn it. Then his right arm shot out. His fingers gripped Domber's +yellow tie. The Dutch Quisling's eyes bulged and he pulled back. + +In that instant the Allison surged into full, smooth power. Stan kicked +down on one brake and snapped her around. Like a falcon launching out +from a limb, the Mustang shot toward the opening ahead. Stan held Domber +over the edge of the open hatch until the ship was out in the sunshine, +then he gave the little Quisling a shove. + +Hoiking the tail of the Mustang, he hopped her suddenly. It was a trick +he had depended upon to save him from the guns. As she shot upward he +saw flame and fire rip the runway. The blast was so close to his belly +that it sheared away most of the landing gear. Stan banked and dropped +back down toward the roofs of the city. As he laid over he saw the +withering fire on the runway lift. Amid the ripped up slabs of cement he +saw a man lying sprawled on his face. He was half covered by a slab of +concrete. + +"One for the Dutch patriots," Stan said grimly. + +As he roared over the rooftops, Stan leaned back and laughed. He would +have to fly low because the high-level dual supercharger was not +working. All he had done was adjust the regular carburization system. +He had not taken chances on his work on the high-altitude machinery. + +There were no Nazi planes in the air. There had been no alert. Stan was +sure there would be no attack until he reached Rotterdam. Using the +tactics of the Rhubarb Raiders he flew low over the tile roofs and the +windmills. + +In a surprisingly short time, the Mustang broke out over Rotterdam and +Stan straightened his course. His compass was out, the gyro-horizon had +been removed and both clocks were stopped. The radio had been stripped +out of the ship along with every other instrument not absolutely +necessary to test flight. Domber had only wanted to learn about the +supercharger. His egotism in believing everyone else was dull-witted +compared to himself had saved Stan. + +Over the estuary of the Rhine River Stan met his first flak. A startled +battery opened up as he flipped over so low down he could see the +buttons on the artillery men's uniforms. The firing was wild, but it +roused gunners out on the Hook of Holland. There the Jerries did some +closer shooting. But Stan was dusting the concrete emplacements and the +gunners did not get their hearts into the job. Stan flipped up over blue +water with a grin on his face. + +Checking his gasoline supply, he judged he could get to the middle of +the channel. He had no parachute and no life belt or Mae West suit to +float him. The chill water of the channel would soon drag him down. He +had to locate a patrol boat or a British ship of some other class. And +he had to watch for Messerschmitts and Focke-Wulf fighters. + +High above him he spotted three fighter craft. He saw them wheel and +bank into the sun. They would be coming downstairs to have a look. +Possibly they had been warned by radio to look for him. A minute later +he spotted five more planes and these he was able to check. They were FW +190 fighters and they were coming up from the direction of Ostende on +the Belgium coast. Then he saw two Me 109 Stingers slipping in from the +other side. Stan kicked the Mustang wide open. No use trying to save gas +by holding cruising speed. He had to get away from that coast. + +The Mustang knifed ahead and Stan bent forward as the air-speed +indicator rolled up to just under four hundred miles per hour. There was +no more boost and he longed for the dual supercharger. The FW's dropped +in behind, unable to head him off, but the Me's came on like falcons +trapping a homing pigeon. Stan felt a good deal like a pigeon. He was +unarmed and he was carrying a vital message that had to get through. He +dived down close to the water and roared ahead. + +One Me dived in on him and zoomed over him. Stan felt lead spattering +all over his ship and saw cannon shells hit the sea close below his +wings. The second Me came in and Stan slipped a bit, kicking the top of +a wave with his port wing. + +The Jerry was coming down at a terrific rate. He did not think any sane +flier would be zooming along on the crests of the waves. When Stan +dipped, the Jerry missed him and shot past. Stan pulled up sharply just +as a great cloud of water and smoke lifted above the sea. The Jerry had +hit nose-on. Stan saw the tail of his ship and one square-tipped wing +rise above the green water, then slip from sight. + +In coming up Stan went over the third Me. It managed to flatten out but +went skidding along the tops of the waves for a half mile before it got +into the air again. + +That gave Stan his chance to get away. He could outrun the Me's once he +got them down on his level, where they could not use their diving speed. +But the three fighter craft he had first spotted were coming down now. +They were dangerous ships. All three of them were FW 190's, and diving +on an enemy from above is a job the FW does best. + +Stan settled down close to the channel again and kept racing on. The +FW's were sloping in at a screaming pace. Stan felt their first lead as +it hailed around him. He stayed in the fire a split second, then bounced +up and over. He saw the three FW's far below him. They were coming +around for another climb. + +"Sorry, fellows, but I just can't wait," Stan muttered. + +He nosed down again and used the slope to build up speed. Suddenly he +glanced at his gasoline indicator. It was getting wobbly. Stan went up +again to have a look around. Far ahead he spotted two black specks with +smoke pluming up over them. That meant larger ships than patrol boats. +They might be German light destroyers on patrol, but they were the only +craft in sight. He had to make a try for them. + +Sloping off again, he roared away toward the ships. Slowly their hulls +became larger and Stan saw that they were destroyers, small, sleek, and +fast. They were plowing along at top speed, which was not a good sign. +German craft in those waters would be making knots because Allied planes +kept a sharp watch over the channel. + +Stan went in at top speed. He was still a long way from the two ships +when his engine quit. It went out without any sputtering at all, and it +refused to rev up a single blast. + +Flying so low, Stan knew he would not stay up over any great distance. +He felt the Mustang begin to settle. The ships were closer now, but he +still had not identified them. That no longer mattered. If they were +German he would just sink with the Mustang. Considerable haze and smoke +enveloped the ships. They were putting about and swinging away from him +so that the smoke kept them covered. Stan had a wild notion they thought +he was trying to torpedo them and were taking evasive measures. + +"Germans," he said between his gritted teeth. + +Then the Mustang shot through the smoke, grazed the prow of one of the +destroyers, and settled into the channel with a terrific splash. Stan +heard anti-aircraft guns blasting away and saw flame and smoke belching +from dozens of gun muzzles above him. "They aim to finish me off right," +he thought wryly. + +He promptly forgot his resolve to go down with the Mustang. Pawing the +hatch cover open he heaved himself out of the cockpit and tumbled into +the water. A big wave rolled over him and the suction from the sinking +Mustang dragged him down. Savagely he battled his way to the surface. He +was pawing and sputtering but able to swim strongly. + +Looking up he saw that he was close beside the destroyer or her sister +ship, he did not know which. Something white came sailing down toward +him and he heard a voice shout to him: + +"Blimey, old man! Grab the preserver!" + +Then Stan saw that two other life preservers had been tossed to him. He +swam to the nearest one and grabbed it. He was shaking from the cold +water but he laughed. The destroyer was flying the ensign of His +Majesty's Royal Navy. + +A few minutes later a boat picked him up and he was rowed to the +destroyer. Climbing aboard he was met by the commander. Stan saluted the +officer. + +"Lieutenant Stan Wilson, Eighth Air Force, reporting, sir," he said. + +The commander looked at Stan's clothes, then smiled. "Where were you +going with that Mustang, Lieutenant?" he asked. + +"I was headed for home, sir. You mistook me for a Jerry and started +shooting." + +"No, we knew what you were. We just bagged two Focke-Wulf fighters off +your tail. But you can report in detail after we get you into some dry +clothing." + +Stan followed the commander to the officer's quarters. After climbing +into a navy blanket and swallowing hot tea, Stan told the commander his +story. He did not keep anything back. When he had finished, the +commander said: + +"We could radio in a warning, but I think High Command might appreciate +it if we took no chances. We'll put in and rush you right to Eighth Air +Force headquarters. That way the Germans won't be able to learn +anything." + +"The FW that got away will report I was blasted into the sea. Anyway, I +have a personal score to settle with a Nazi who is passing himself off +as a pal of mine." + +"Better get in touch with the big boys first," the commander advised. + +"I'll take care of both jobs," Stan promised. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +SPY HUNT + + +The commander of the destroyer placed Stan in the hands of a British +Intelligence Officer. Having had some experience with British methods of +sending all reports through regulation channels before acting upon them, +Stan merely requested that he be rushed to his headquarters at once. + +"Certainly, old fellow," the officer said. "But that will be a bit +awkward, you know. Everything is upset and everybody is very busy. +There's a big show in the making. I'll do my best. Should be able to +deliver you there by morning." + +"Don't bother, if that is as fast as you can get me there," Stan said. +"I'll find a way out to my outfit." + +"No trouble at all, glad to help you. I'll get you a room and you can +get a nice sleep. Bright and early I'll be around with a car." The +officer made it clear he was in a big hurry to be off. + +"Thanks a lot," Stan said. "I'll see you later." + +The officer stared at him as Stan turned and barged out of the little +office where the Navy had left him. News of a big air push made it +necessary for him to get into action at once. He had to report his +information in time to halt the operations, or catch Egbert Minter +before he reported to Berlin. Getting a report to his own flight +commander seemed the quickest way. + +Without his Yank officer's uniform Stan was at a disadvantage. The +destroyer commander had had his civilian suit cleaned and pressed for +him and he was wearing it, having discarded the coveralls he had worn in +the German shop. Standing on a street corner in the coast village, Stan +realized that he was dressed as a German civilian. Getting a ride would +not be so easy. Then he began to understand why the Intelligence Officer +had wanted to hold him overnight. Intelligence had not been so sure the +destroyer commander knew all about Stan. + +Grinning broadly he hurried down the street. A few people stared at him +and one man pointed him out to another. A bobby turned and stood +watching him. Stan halted abruptly. The policeman was walking toward +him. Suddenly Stan realized that he did not have a scrap of evidence on +him to prove he was a Yank officer. The Germans had taken all +identification away from him. + +A man came up the street and halted the bobby. He showed the policeman +something. The bobby looked at Stan, then turned back to his beat. The +man sauntered on a few steps and paused to look into a shop window. At +once Stan knew he was being trailed by British Intelligence. He had a +hunch he would be picked up soon. + +Entering a shop he smiled at a girl leaning on a counter. "May I use +your telephone?" he asked. + +"Over there." The girl pointed to a small booth. + +Stan went into the little room. He got a connection and asked for Eighth +Air Force headquarters after convincing the operator that he was a +stranded flier. A voice at the other end of the line said in a very +irritated manner: + +"We are accepting nothing but accredited calls until tomorrow." + +"This is vitally important. I must speak to General Gilmer. This is +Lieutenant Stan Wilson speaking. I've just escaped from Germany. A +British destroyer put me ashore." + +"Where are you calling from?" + +"Ramsgate." + +"Get in touch with British Intelligence there. We can't put you through +to the general." + +"Then get me Colonel Holt." + +"He is in conference. Now clear the wire." + +"Don't hang up or I'll have your stripes!" Stan shouted. + +"Yes, sir," the voice said quickly. + +That meant the operator was a non-com which would make it a little +easier. + +"Get me Lieutenant Allison at Mess 187. Make it quick." + +The operator did some plugging and after a bit came back with a report. + +"Lieutenant Allison has shifted to fighter group. He is at 155, +Interceptor Base." + +"Get him!" Stan snapped. + +The operator began plugging again and Stan waited. He saw the man +shadowing him standing out at the counter drinking a cup of tea. After a +long wait he heard Allison's voice. + +"Hello there?" + +"This is Stan. Hold it! Listen! I'm at Ramsgate and have to get to +headquarters at once. Can't tell you how I got here, but I'm about to be +grabbed by British Intelligence. I'm dressed like a German business +man." + +"I say, old man, this is topping." Stan heard him shout to O'Malley. + +"Is Sim Jones there?" + +"Yes, he was here. I don't see him, but I'm sure he's around. Want to +talk to him?" + +"No, but either you or O'Malley keep an eye on him. Don't let him get +out of your sight. If he leaves the mess, follow him!" + +"I say, what's up?" Allison was clearly startled. + +"Do as I say, and get Colonel Holt. Tell him to pick me up here at +once. Even if he has to come himself. I'm about to be grabbed by a +plain-clothes man. But I'll be at British Intelligence here at +Ramsgate." + +The Intelligence man was in the door of the booth. "That will be enough +talk," he said gruffly. "Any other messages you have I'll send for you." +He reached over and hung up the phone before Stan could say another +word. + +"Listen, Officer. Take me back to the Intelligence Office," Stan said. +"My commander will call for me there." + +"You are acting very strangely, my man. Why didn't you make this call +from the office? It could have been checked there." The officer laid a +big hand on Stan's arm. + +"I'll make one from there," Stan said. "I'll admit I should have put +this one through from your office, but I did not know I was to be +followed and I didn't stop to think how I would look in these clothes." + +"I have orders to handle this myself in case you showed any suspicious +actions. I think you have acted plenty suspicious. I'm taking you to +the London office. We'll have to check this call you just made and get +you identified." + +"I can't waste all that time," Stan protested. "I have to get out to my +outfit." + +The officer smiled. "I think I've landed one of the boys we're after. We +have had a tip that the Germans have planted a group of the smoothest +men they have over here. So far we haven't been able to put a hand on a +single man of them. But you fit the picture neatly." + +"Why?" Stan asked. + +"Well, you are an escaped pilot. That's the way they have been coming +in. They are always able to slip through because they know all about the +outfit they were supposed to have been with. They're even supposed to +look exactly like the officers lost over Germany." The officer laughed. +"The more I look at you, the more convinced I am that we've landed one +of them at last. Come along." + +Stan walked beside the officer. He felt like kicking himself for +bungling. If the time were not so short everything could be +straightened out. But he was sure the first waves of the giant air +attack were about due to start, possibly before midnight. Allison had +said Minter was not around. He and O'Malley might not be able to locate +the spy. + +"Here's my car," the secret-service man said. + +Stan paused beside the sleek roadster. The officer opened the door. Stan +stepped inside. The officer walked around the car. Stan leaned over the +side. + +"Aren't you going to do anything about this flat tire?" he asked. + +"Another flat?" the officer said in disgust. "That's the third one this +week. It's about time I had some new tires." He got out and started +around the car. + +Stan reached over and flipped on the switch. He slid under the wheel and +stepped on the starter. The engine hit at once and Stan slammed the +gears into mesh. The roadster leaped ahead, then stalled. Stan opened +the choke and the car leaped again, its tires showering the agent with +gravel. + +"Stop or I'll fire!" the officer shouted. + +Stan bent down and hit a near-by corner. He did not want to have a real +blowout. He wanted to get as near headquarters as he could before the +British police headed him off. The car careened around the corner and +headed down a tree-lined street. Dusk was beginning to settle and Stan +switched on the lights. He was disgusted to see that the lights were +hooded for blackout driving. + +Stan knew exactly how to get where he was going, but he avoided the main +road and went careening down lanes and along narrow trails hemmed in by +hedges. The car attracted little attention since it was an official +vehicle and clearly marked. + +Just when he figured he was going to make it in spite of the dim +headlights and the fact that darkness had settled, he burst out of a +lane into a village. He recognized the place at once. He was just two +miles from his objective, but two military cars blocked the road ahead. +Stan was sure they were waiting for him. He did not drive on to find +out. Cutting the switch he slid out of the car and ducked over a hedge. + +The car rolled on in the darkness while Stan sprinted along the hedge. +He passed through a back yard two jumps ahead of a shaggy dog and headed +up an alley. A few minutes later he was hurrying down the blacked-out +street. + +Reaching a tavern Stan saw two bicycles shoved into a rack beside the +door. One of them was locked but the other was loose. Stan slipped it +out and headed up the street again. He was mounting the cycle when he +heard shouts down the street and men running. Dimmed car headlights +gleamed. The officers were on his trail again. Stan ducked into a narrow +path and pedaled away as hard as he could. + +The officers chasing him drove along the road, which ran parallel to the +lane. They had a spotlight on one of the cars which they kept moving in +wide circles. Finally the light passed over Stan and the men began +shouting for him to halt. The light came back and held on him. + +Stan sent the bike into a cross path and was out of the beam and headed +away from the road. He pedaled furiously. The men were out of the cars +and running after him. At the first left-hand turn Stan headed back in +the direction he wanted to go and kept pumping away. + +The shouting behind him died down and he began to think he had evaded +his pursuers. Suddenly the lane broke out into the main road. Stan +headed down the road. He could see the looming bulk of a hangar against +the sky and knew that he was nearing headquarters. Suddenly he heard a +car behind him. Looking back he saw that one of the cars was close upon +him. He kept on pedaling but the car rapidly gained on him. It was very +close when he saw a gate ahead. + +With five British officers on his heels, Stan ditched the bike and +sprinted for the gate. Under shaded lights he saw two Yank soldiers. He +reached them ten yards ahead of the Britishers, having outrun the +secret-service men. The guards barred the way. + +"Get a guard and take me to headquarters," Stan snapped. + +"We turn all civilians over to the local police," one of the guards +said. He grinned at Stan. "Looks like they were right on the job, too." + +"They think I'm a spy, but I'm an Eighth Air Force officer and I have +important information for Colonel Holt, my commander." Stan spoke +sternly. + +The British officers closed in. Their leader said: + +"Come now. You led us a hot chase but you won't get away again." + +"Colonel Holt will vouch for me," Stan said. + +"What was the last password we used here?" the guard asked. "The one in +use when you left." + +Stan grinned and stepped forward. "Port wing," he said. + +The two guards stared hard at him. "He has it," one of them said. The +other turned to the British officials. "We'll take him to Colonel Holt. +You can come along. If he's a phony you can have him." + +"Now you're talking sense," Stan said. + +The guard made a call and two soldiers appeared. One of the British +officials went along, but it was clear they had begun to believe Stan. +The guards took Stan straight to the administration building. Stan and +the secret-service man were led to a small room off the operations room. +Within five minutes Colonel Holt appeared. + +"Wilson!" he almost shouted. "Where in heck did you come from?" + +"I came in just one jump ahead of Scotland Yard," Stan answered and +grinned at the Britisher. + +"Guess I'll be running along. Sorry we took you for a Jerry," the man +said. + +"You did a fine job. Stick around. We may be able to grab one of the men +you are looking for," Stan said. + +"You got out of Germany?" Colonel Holt asked. "The Germans seem to be +getting slack about prisoners lately. O'Malley and Jones got back a few +days ago." + +"O'Malley got back but not Jones. The Jones who got here is a spy. I'll +give you the story briefly." + +Stan outlined the whole scheme. When he had finished, Colonel Holt +rushed him in to the officers meeting where the final touches were +being made on plans for the big raid. Stan had an audience composed of +generals and other high-ranking officials for the next fifteen minutes. +Then phones began to buzz. The R.A.F. was notified to hold up. Stan soon +found himself out of the meeting. He headed for his barracks. Officers +had been sent to round up Egbert Minter, but Stan had a hunch he might +be able to locate the phony Sim Jones before the officers found him. + +Stan found Splinters Wright in the Nissen hut. Splinters leaped to his +feet when Stan opened the door. He had a service automatic in his hand +and the light of battle in his eyes. + +"Oh, it's you," he said and seemed disappointed. + +"Who were you expecting?" Stan asked. + +"O'Malley left me here to grab Sim Jones when he comes in," Splinters +explained. He grinned broadly. "You sure started a little war around +this hut." + +"Where's Allison and O'Malley?" Stan asked as he began getting out of +his civilian clothes and into a uniform. + +"They tore out of here like wild men. I'd hate to be Sim Jones if +O'Malley locates him. We've all been wondering about that bird. He has +acted half cracked since he got back." + +"He isn't Sim Jones, he's Egbert Minter, a German spy," Stan explained. +"And we have to grab him." + +"O'Malley seemed to have a clue," Splinters said. "Bugs Monahan went +with him and Allison." + +"That Sim's locker?" Stan asked. + +"Yes." + +Stan walked over to the locker and opened it. Inside hung one of Sim +Jones' uniforms and a few other things. Stan examined the uniform, then +turned to the toilet kit. There was nothing there. He opened the +first-aid kit. It contained sulfa pills, powder for dusting, and other +medicines. Stan picked a roll of bandage out of the kit and looked at it +intently. The bandage was packaged to keep it sterile. Suddenly Stan +ripped open the package and unrolled a strip of the bandage. It came +away freely because there were only a couple of yards of it. Under the +bandage was a roll of adding machine tape. Stan whistled softly and +Splinters crowded close to look. + +The tape was covered with figures and fine, even German writing. + +"Can you read Kraut?" Splinters asked. + +"No," Stan said softly. "But our Intelligence Department can." + +At that moment the door banged open. The boys turned and found +themselves staring into the muzzle of a service revolver. Above the +barrel glinted the eyes of Egbert Minter. + +"Toss that gun on the floor," he snarled. + +"Toss it," Stan said sharply as he saw Splinters' arm muscles begin to +tighten. "This bird will shoot." + +"You are right, Lieutenant Wilson. Now give me that roll of tape. It +contains valuable data regarding the Eighth Air Force." He stepped +closer and Stan passed over the roll. + +"You'll never get out of camp with it," Stan said softly. "I have tipped +the boys off to your little game." + +"I will take it back to Germany," Minter said. "But before I go I will +see that you do not make more trouble for us. You are a very capable +man, Lieutenant Wilson." + +"You flatter me," Stan said smoothly. "But how are you going to get back +to Germany?" + +"Don't try to stall for time. I have killed your pals, Allison and +O'Malley, the idiotic Irishman. Now it is your turn. I shall break a +container of Herr Domber's gas in this room before I lock you in." + +"Is that the way you killed Allison and O'Malley?" Stan asked. A +dangerous light had begun to flicker in his eyes. + +"It is and I will go back to the hut where I left them. I have a radio +there and will send a message. Two hours later I will be crossing the +channel on a British patrol boat. You know we have captured a few." +Minter smiled. He could not help gloating over his victims. + +"You Nazis have very nice habits," Stan remarked. + +"Yes, we are efficient." Minter laughed. "This hut is made of corrugated +iron, the floor is cement, the windows are steel with such small panes. +You will die like rats!" + +"Interesting, but I prefer to be shot!" As he spoke Stan dived in a +lightning-like leap, straight at Minter. The Nazi's gun flamed and Stan +felt a blow like the smashing of a big fist against his chest. The gun +flamed again, its fire searing Stan's neck, then he had closed with the +German and had forced his gun arm down. Splinters had dived in and hit +the Nazi around the knees. They went down in a twisting, writhing mass +with Stan's blood spattering over all three. + +Splinters got the gun and brought its butt down on Minter's head. He +slumped down and rolled free of Stan. Splinters stood up. + +"You're hit bad," he said. + +"I'm all right. Get some water and bring him around. We have to locate +his hut and the radio. He must have others helping him." Stan steadied +himself with an effort. He was beginning to feel sick to his stomach. + +Splinters got water and doused the Nazi, while Stan tore open his shirt +and began plugging an ugly wound in his shoulder. He had to sink down on +a bunk to do it. But he refused to give in. He had to get to the death +hut and rescue O'Malley and Allison. The medics might be able to save +them. + +Minter opened his eyes slowly. He groaned and pulled himself to a +sitting posture. + +"Take that container away from him," Stan ordered. Minter had pulled a +square glass container from under his coat. It was attached there by a +leather strap with a snap on it. Splinters grabbed the container and +unsnapped it. + +"No, you don't," he growled. + +"We have to make him talk," Stan said thickly. His head was beginning to +feel light and his tongue thick. The corrugated dome of the Nissen hut +was wavering and swaying. + +At that moment the door burst open. "Sure, an' I told you the rat would +come back here!" That was O'Malley's bellow. "And there the spalpeen +is!" + +"I say, old man, are you hit bad?" Allison's voice came to Stan through +the dizzy haze closing in around him. + +"Just nicked," Stan muttered and grinned. By some twist Allison and +O'Malley had escaped. He felt much better, so much better that he +laughed, or thought he did. + + * * * * * + +Stan lay on his bunk with a medic giving him treatment before the +ambulance boys packed him off. He opened his eyes and found the haze had +gone. He could feel the morphine working and knew he would drift away +again in a few seconds. O'Malley was looking down at him, his homely +face twisted into a scowl. There were two suspicious-looking beads which +were not sweat on each side of his nose. When Stan looked up at him, +O'Malley grinned broadly. Beside him, Allison was smiling too. + +"We'll have him fixed up as good as ever in no time," the doctor said. + +"How did you keep from getting gassed?" Stan asked. + +"Aisy," O'Malley answered. "The rat was so scared we'd rush him that he +jest eased out through the door an' tossed a glass jug into the room. +It was fixed to break aisy if it hit anything hard. Allison caught it as +neat as iver he caught a Rugby football." O'Malley laughed. + +"But the blighter had locked us in and that slowed us down some. Then +two of his henchman came along to use the radio and when they unlocked +the doors to air the gas out of the hut, we grabbed them." Allison +looked at the doctor to see if it was all right to talk. The doctor +nodded. + +"Your phone call came in the nick o' time," O'Malley put in. "We located +Sim and trailed him from the mess to his hideout. It was one of our own +Nissen huts the boys had been using to store bedding in. The rats had +moved the piles of bedding away from the back end and made a place +there." + +"Why wasn't their radio located?" Stan asked. + +The doctor turned to Allison and Stan. "Better let the rest of the plot +wait," he said. + +Splinters and Bugs edged forward. "Be savin' a cot for you, Wilson," +they said. + +Stan grinned happily. The morphine had claimed him, and it brought a +pleasant dream. He was again with his pals and another German plot had +been upset. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A YANKEE FLIER OVER BERLIN*** + + +******* This file should be named 29774-8.txt or 29774-8.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/9/7/7/29774 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: A Yankee Flier Over Berlin</p> +<p>Author: Al Avery</p> +<p>Release Date: August 23, 2009 [eBook #29774]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A YANKEE FLIER OVER BERLIN***</p> +<p> </p> +<h3>E-text prepared by Mark C. Orton, Mary Meehan,<br /> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> + (http://www.pgdp.net)</h3> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p> </p> + +<div class="figleft"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<div class="figright"> +<img src="images/spine.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h1>A YANKEE FLIER OVER BERLIN</h1> + +<h2>BY AL AVERY</h2> + +<h3><i>ILLUSTRATED BY</i> <span class="smcap">Paul Laune</span></h3> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h3>GROSSET & DUNLAP<br /> +PUBLISHERS : : NEW YORK</h3> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Copyright, 1944, by</span><br /> +GROSSET & DUNLAP, INC.</h3> + +<h3><i>All Rights Reserved</i></h3> + +<h3><i>Printed in the United States of America</i></h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h3><i>For</i><br /> +LARRY SOUTHWICKE</h3> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/illus.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>THE SPITFIRE STAYED WITH STAN UNTIL THE SPEEDBOAT PULLED ALONGSIDE.</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/weapon.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>BOOKS ARE WEAPONS IN THE WAR OF IDEAS</h3> + +<h4>A WARTIME BOOK</h4> + +<h4>THIS COMPLETE EDITION IS PRODUCED IN FULL COMPLIANCE WITH THE +GOVERNMENT'S REGULATIONS FOR CONSERVING PAPER AND OTHER ESSENTIAL +MATERIALS.</h4> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<!-- Autogenerated TOC. Modify or delete as required. --> +<p> +<a href="#CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I <span class="smcap">Rugged Going</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II <span class="smcap">Action</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III <span class="smcap">Huls</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV <span class="smcap">Scouting Mission</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V <span class="smcap">Hidden Dromes</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI <span class="smcap">Prisoner</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII <span class="smcap">Escape</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII <span class="smcap">Flight</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX <span class="smcap">Trapped</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X <span class="smcap">Spy</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI <span class="smcap">Mustang</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII <span class="smcap">Zero Hour</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII <span class="smcap">Spy Hunt</span></a><br /> +</p> +<!-- End Autogenerated TOC. --> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>A YANKEE FLIER OVER BERLIN</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<h3>RUGGED GOING</h3> + + +<p>The Commanding Colonel stared at the big map with its red ribbons +marking air trails to and from targets. He was spotting the exact point +where his Third Fighter group would have to turn back and leave the big +Fortresses and Liberators to go it alone into the concentrated defenses +of Germany.</p> + +<p>Weather Officer Miller looked glumly at the map as Colonel Holt placed +his finger on a spot.</p> + +<p>"6/10 cloud over station six." Station six was a Luftwaffe fighter +field.</p> + +<p>The colonel scowled and shook his head. "Are the big boys going out?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. Conditions over target are very good." Weather grinned when +he said it.</p> + +<p>"We won't get much of a whack at the Jerries," the colonel said rather +testily.</p> + +<p>"The Forts and Libs will make it through," Weather said with a lot of +cockiness. He was beginning to act like the rest of the gang around +headquarters who believed that the Forts and the Libs could go it alone +all the way and shoot down any number of fighters the Germans could send +up. Colonel Holt was a strong supporter for fighter cover. He was +battling for a flock of longer-range fighters that could accompany the +big fellows all the way to Berlin. The way things were going he might +not be escorting at all within a few weeks. His Third Fighter Command +might be on scouting duty.</p> + +<p>"We'll see what can be done about it," he said as he turned away.</p> + +<p>The colonel walked out of the high-ceilinged room which was buried under +thirty feet of steel reinforced concrete. He came up out of the building +into a drab night. A raw wind stabbed at him, and sent light clouds +scudding across the face of the moon. Overhead, a night fighter growled +its way through the lonely sky. The country spread around the base was +flat with only a few hills to break the sameness.</p> + +<p>Out on the dispersal area Colonel Holt could see guards watching the +shadowy forms of the Thunderbolts. A jeep came chugging up a muddy +street and turned off toward the mess barracks. At one-five in the +morning the base looked peaceful enough. Sheltered by darkness, its mud +ruts and half-finished buildings were softened by the gloom. Still +scowling, the colonel strode away.</p> + +<p>Several hours later, in a tunnel-shaped hut with a corrugated iron roof +and a cement floor, two fliers sat near a wood stove. Stan Wilson was +poking wood into the stove.</p> + +<p>"I wonder if anyone ever kept one of these gadgets burning all night," +he said sourly.</p> + +<p>"Sure, an' 'tis against the rules," Lieutenant O'Malley said and +grinned.</p> + +<p>"I'm beginning to think Allison showed good sense in running out on us +and joining a bomber outfit," Stan growled. "Here we are sitting up all +night keeping this stove poked full of wood."</p> + +<p>"That big bum," O'Malley snorted. "Only today he said that he's livin' +in a palace with a sure-enough butler to buttle." O'Malley shook his +head sadly. "The spalpeen says that butler can sure bake a foine pie."</p> + +<p>"On top of that we get to fly Thunderbolts for the fun of it." Stan +jabbed a slab of wood into the stove and slammed the door.</p> + +<p>"We've jest been havin' bad luck," O'Malley said. "I can stand a Nissen +hut jest to be flyin' one o' them babies. We'll meet up with plenty o' +Jerries." O'Malley grinned eagerly, his homely face lighting up. +"Remember how we used to mix it with them Jerry bandits tryin' to blitz +London?"</p> + +<p>"That was a long time ago, as wars count time," Stan answered. "We've +been away a long time. The Jerries don't get near London any more, and I +heard a rumor that the Forts and Libs are able to shoot down ten +fighters for every one the Thunderbolts get."</p> + +<p>O'Malley snorted. "Bombers shoot down Me 109's and FW 190's! 'Tis jest +propaganda put out by the brass hats to fool the Germans. I'll have to +see it done, me b'y."</p> + +<p>"From what I hear we'll probably have a reserved seat for the show. We +sit up there and watch." Stan smiled. "But we can always elbow in and +fly a Fortress or a Liberator."</p> + +<p>"Not me," O'Malley declared. "I'm no good at flying a milk wagon. I'll +handle me own guns."</p> + +<p>"Tomorrow will tell the tale. We're to get our first whack at Jerry in +this new job," Stan said.</p> + +<p>"Sure, an' I'd go to bed an' forget it, but the minnit I get me eyes +closed this stove goes out an' I'm freezin'," O'Malley growled. "I don't +think we'll be goin' any place. Them brass hats meet at Operation +Headquarters an' the generals call in Weather. Weather squints out +through a porthole an' says, '6/10 cloud over target.' Then the generals +up an' go back to bed."</p> + +<p>"We sure miss a lot of missions because of bad weather," Stan admitted. +"One of these days some fellow will invent a seeing eye sight that will +look right through the clouds."</p> + +<p>"You been readin' the funny books too much lately," O'Malley said.</p> + +<p>"Missed any of yours?" Stan laughed as he glanced toward a pile of comic +books stacked beside O'Malley's cot.</p> + +<p>"I think our dog robber's been snitchin' a few." O'Malley yawned and +stretched his arms over his head. They were long bony arms with huge +hands attached to them.</p> + +<p>"Weren't you in Berlin before the war?" Stan asked.</p> + +<p>"Sure," O'Malley answered. "Bein' a son of good auld Ireland, I was +itchin' to get into a fight an' it looked like the Jerries were the only +ones preparin' to do anything."</p> + +<p>"Why didn't you stay over there?" Stan grinned broadly as he spoke. "I +hear there are pretty girls in Berlin and that their mammas can bake +swell pies."</p> + +<p>O'Malley sighed deeply at the mention of pie. His big Adam's apple +bobbed up and down, then his wide mouth clamped shut.</p> + +<p>"Sure, an' I don't like bein' pushed around, an' I don't like to see +other folks kicked an' slugged by a lot of spalpeens dressed up in brown +shirts."</p> + +<p>"You may get to wave to that girl when we fly over Berlin," Stan said.</p> + +<p>"I could go straight to her house, only she lives a ways out of Berlin. +We used to go ridin' in the country on our bikes. Ivery lane we'd ride +down some guy in a storm trooper uniform would stop us. I kept pawin' +out me Luftwaffe card all o' the time." O'Malley grinned.</p> + +<p>"So you got out and joined up with the British and then with us." Stan +poked another stick of wood into the stove.</p> + +<p>O'Malley yawned again and eyed his cot. "If you insist on keepin' the +fire goin', I'll catch me a couple o' winks o' sleep."</p> + +<p>"I'll keep the joint warm," Stan agreed.</p> + +<p>O'Malley went over to his cot. He kicked off his shoes and crawled under +the blankets fully dressed.</p> + +<p>The minutes dragged away and Stan nodded beside the stove. An hour +passed and he roused himself to poke in more wood. He dozed off again +and was roused by an orderly making the rounds calling the crews. The +stove was cold and he fumbled with stiff fingers as he lighted it again. +When it was cherry red in spots, O'Malley poked his tousled head out +from under a blanket. Stan knew he had been lying there waiting for the +stove to get hot.</p> + +<p>They dashed water over their faces and hurried out into the raw morning. +Stan glanced at his watch. It was four o'clock. They walked to the +briefing room where they joined a crowd of pilots who were seated on +benches staring at a square of transparent talc pinned over a wall map. +Red lines showed the route of the Forts and Libs. Soon a sleepy buzz of +conversation filled the air. As the pilots talked, they watched the +little group of officers gathered before the map.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the Old Man, Colonel Holt, turned and faced them. There was an +immediate hush.</p> + +<p>"A lot of people think we just go along with the bombers to catch a bit +of fresh air and to keep from going stale. This mission promised to be +our chance to crack the enemy, but unfortunately, Weather reports clouds +up to our return point." The Old Man stared unwinkingly at his men. He +read the disappointment in their faces. "We are hoping that for once +Weather will be wrong."</p> + +<p>This brought a few grins and a snort or two from the pilots. The Old Man +went on talking.</p> + +<p>"You are to fly formation as planned. This will be strictly a team job. +There will be no free-lance hunting. Understand?"</p> + +<p>Everyone looked glum. O'Malley scowled. It was not his nature to like +strict rules. He had learned what he knew in the days of the Battle of +Britain and later in the South Pacific and then over Africa and Italy. +O'Malley always had been a rip-roaring fighter who accepted battle +against any odds. If trouble did not come his way, he went looking for +it.</p> + +<p>Stan wondered if that last warning was not aimed at O'Malley and +himself. All of the other fliers were trained to this sort of fighting. +Stan and O'Malley were the only old heads in the flight.</p> + +<p>O'Malley and Stan marched out with the others and climbed into heavy +flying suits. The Thunderbolts were high fliers and worked best at +twenty-three thousand feet or more. That meant heavy equipment with +oxygen and all of the other trappings, including heated undergarments.</p> + +<p>The pilots waddled out to their planes and climbed up. Ground crews +moved back. They had serviced and checked the fighters and now their +Pratt and Whitney twin bank radial engines were turning over smoothly. +Exhausts flared blue flames which sent wavering shadows across the wet +cement of the apron. Flight Officer Mickle was running about like an old +hen with a scattered brood of chicks.</p> + +<p>Stan glanced down the wet and gleaming runway. An Aldis lamp winked down +toward the shadow bar. Stan eased himself back against the shock pad. He +glanced at his temperature gauge and across his instrument board. The +throb of his Pratt and Whitney engine hinted at power, though it was +rolling over smoothly and effortlessly. Stan remembered other nights +many months past when he had sat in a Hurricane waiting for the flash of +the lamp and the order from the tower to go up through the blind alley +between the barrage balloon cables to wage unequal war against invading +Germans. Things had changed a lot since then. Now he was a part of the +Eighth Air Force of the United States Army and was fighting for his own +country as well as Britain.</p> + +<p>"Red Flight, check your temperatures." That was the voice of Flight +Leader Sim Jones.</p> + +<p>The boys checked in one at a time.</p> + +<p>"Up to fifteen thousand. Stay in close," Sim ordered.</p> + +<p>Suddenly a motor burst into full-throated roar. A dark form hurtled down +the runway and lifted like a flash. Another ship darted away, and then +another. Stan slammed his hatch cover shut and opened up his throttle. +He jammed down hard on one brake and the Thunderbolt swept around. She +poised an instant, then knifed down the slippery runway. Stan hoiked her +tail with a blast of prop pressure and hopped her off. He went roaring +out over a mobile floodlight and up into the dark sky for the rendezvous +with Red Flight.</p> + +<p>High above the channel, the ships of his flight tucked in and circled. +Soon they picked up the flight of Liberators and Fortresses. At +twenty-five thousand feet the big bombers left broad vapor trails behind +them. Stan looked down upon the killers from his perch in the sky. Dawn +was breaking and the scene was no longer drab.</p> + +<p>Red Flight was covering the flank of Second High Squadron. Stan could +clearly see Third Low Squadron and First Lead Squadron. Each squadron +was composed of a first flight of three bombers and a second flight of +three bombers. Stan grinned. He knew exactly where his pal March Allison +was flying. He was in left-hand slot, second flight, Second High +Squadron, the hottest spot in a bomber formation.</p> + +<p>Stan eased over a bit and shook O'Malley off his wing. Sim was waggling +his wings, ordering the boys to spread out and get set for interception. +Red Flight spread out but stayed in position like a football team moving +into formation for a screen pass. The bombers roared on toward Germany, +keeping tight formation so as to be able to lay out a deadly cross fire +from their fifty-caliber guns. Each Fort and each Lib was a bristling +pillbox with nose guns, waist guns, belly guns, and ball turret guns. +Stan wondered if he would not be flying one of the big fellows very +soon.</p> + +<p>Everything went off smoothly and according to plan, except that for once +Weather had missed a bet. As the flight neared the point over Germany +where the Thunderbolts were to turn back, a cold wind washed the sky +clear of clouds and a cold sun shone upon the raiders.</p> + +<p>"In the good auld summertime." Stan heard O'Malley humming.</p> + +<p>"Shut up, O'Malley," Sim grated.</p> + +<p>Suddenly flak began to blossom out from the countryside below. It +blossomed in the sky over the bombers and in the middle of Red Flight. +Thunderbolts ducked and dipped but went roaring on.</p> + +<p>Down below, the bomber boys were scanning the skies.</p> + +<p>In his Fort, Allison drawled over the intercom, "Pilot to navigator."</p> + +<p>"Go ahead, pilot."</p> + +<p>"Everybody set?"</p> + +<p>"Navigator to pilot, hot stuff coming up."</p> + +<p>"Right waist gunner to pilot, sir. 190's at eleven o'clock. They're +after the flight ahead."</p> + +<p>"Rear gunner Roger, sir. Flock of Focke-Wulfs at six o'clock. Coming in +on our tail."</p> + +<p>"I say, old man, don't get itchy fingers. No ammo to waste." Allison's +voice was calm and unruffled.</p> + +<p>O'Malley's voice broke in over Stan's headset. "Hey, sure an' we ought +to go down an' bust that up."</p> + +<p>"Stay where you are, O'Malley," Sim snapped. "We have plenty of Me's +coming in at twelve o'clock."</p> + +<p>Stan had been so busy watching the bombers he had not checked his own +part of the sky. A glance showed him Sim was correct. A flight of some +twenty Me fighters were diving and circling above.</p> + +<p>"Keep them up there," Sim ordered. "But stay in your slot. You happen to +be outnumbered and you also happen to have the job of seeing that those +Me's stay up there away from the bombers."</p> + +<p>Red Flight knifed along through the thin air, ready to smash any Me +daring to go down the chute upon the bombers.</p> + +<p>"Come on down and fight, ye spalpeens!" O'Malley was yelling.</p> + +<p>Stan saw that the Forts and Libs were slamming lead at the Focke-Wulfs +in a blaze that rivaled a Fourth of July celebration. He kept an eye on +Allison's Fort and saw an FW go down flaming after a thrust at the +bomber. Stan chuckled softly.</p> + +<p>"Allison got one!" O'Malley yelled. "'Tis a sad day, this, for Mrs. +O'Malley's son."</p> + +<p>Allison's Fort got another FW and O'Malley's flow of abuse against the +Me's increased. He was in a towering Irish rage. But it did no good. The +Me's hung on, waiting for the Thunderbolts to turn back. It was a case +of who ran short of gas first. Now "lace-panty" flak was blossoming all +over the sky. It exploded in pretty pink bursts and that was why the +boys gave it such a fancy name.</p> + +<p>"We have to go in," Sim ordered grimly.</p> + +<p>"Go in!" O'Malley bellowed. "Why not give them birds a scare anyway?"</p> + +<p>"We'll zoom up and scatter them," Sim said. "But any man who stays to +put on a show will have to walk back."</p> + +<p>Stan eased over and kicked on a bit more power. The Germans had the +attack route well charted. They knew just how far the Thunderbolts would +be able to penetrate. With a burst of speed Stan went up and over. Every +Thunderbolt did the same, but O'Malley beat them all to it. He roared +over Stan's head, almost ripping away his hatch cover.</p> + +<p>The Me's ducked gracefully and scattered. They looped and dived for it. +Stan saw at once the chase was hopeless. The Jerries meant to tease the +Thunderbolts deeper into Germany so that they would be sure to run out +of gas. It was infuriating, but there just was nothing that could be +done about it. Stan watched O'Malley as he roared after a Jerry.</p> + +<p>"Come back, Irisher. They're just tricking you out of gas," he called.</p> + +<p>"The spalpeens!" O'Malley roared, but he zoomed up and over, then tailed +in after Red Flight which was heading for home.</p> + +<p>Stan saw the Me's dive down to overtake and attack the Forts and Libs. +He had a cold, sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He still was not +convinced that the big fellows could take care of themselves. They had a +hundred miles more to cover before reaching their targets, and then +another hundred to return before fighters could meet them.</p> + +<p>Red Flight slid in on its home field, a sleek flight group in fine trim, +except for one slight wound. Sim's ship had picked up a small piece of +flak, but it had done no damage. Sim had it in his hand when he climbed +down and joined his men.</p> + +<p>"A foine battle!" O'Malley fumed.</p> + +<p>"I was hit," Sim said, grinning.</p> + +<p>"'Tis the fillin' out o' one o' yer teeth," O'Malley answered.</p> + +<p>"I counted eight fighters shot down by the big boys," a pilot remarked.</p> + +<p>"Check in all kills you observed," Sim said. "It will help the bomber +boys get credit."</p> + +<p>O'Malley stared gloomily up into the sky. Stan nudged him. "How about +some breakfast?" he asked.</p> + +<p>O'Malley brightened a bit. "I ordered a pie for breakfast," he said. "If +that cook forgot my pie, he'll be no more than a grease spot when I get +through with him."</p> + +<p>O'Malley got his pie, a thick apple pie dripping with juice. He cut it +into quarters, slid one slab out on his fist and began munching, paying +no attention to the dripping juice. Stan stared into his coffee cup. He +was thinking.</p> + +<p>O'Malley finished his second quarter of pie. He looked at Stan.</p> + +<p>"What you dreamin' up now?" he asked.</p> + +<p>Stan smiled faintly. "You know, I have a hunch we might fool those +Jerries. They have this all down to a science. A flight is reported to +their head man and he figures out just how far we can fly. If we could +do say a hundred miles more, we'd have some fun."</p> + +<p>"So you're goin' to order planes with a hundred more miles gas supply." +O'Malley grunted and attacked his third piece of pie.</p> + +<p>"We could take along emergency tanks and drop them," Stan said.</p> + +<p>O'Malley halted the movement of his hand. His mouth was open like a +cavern. He closed it.</p> + +<p>"Sure, an' 'tis a brilliant idea. We'll see the general about it as soon +as I've finished me pie."</p> + +<p>"No, we'll see Holt. He's our superior officer. Let him have the +credit." Stan leaned back.</p> + +<p>"If we tell a lot o' brass hats, the Jerries will sure hear about it," +O'Malley said sourly.</p> + +<p>"I think not. We have to get permission to install the tanks, you know. +This isn't the South Pacific where you just go to your ground crew and +ask them to rig up something for you." Stan laughed as O'Malley screwed +his face into a frown.</p> + +<p>"I'll say it's not the South Pacific," he agreed. "We got so many rules +here a fellow gets tangled up before he takes off."</p> + +<p>"We have lots of time on our hands. We'll barge over and have Allison +tell us what happened. He'll be back after a bit."</p> + +<p>O'Malley gave Stan a suspicious look. "You're not thinkin' o' askin' fer +one o' them crates full o' guns?"</p> + +<p>"No," Stan answered. "If I did, I doubt that they'd take me. I've been a +fighter pilot too long."</p> + +<p>"They took Allison," O'Malley said.</p> + +<p>"Allison is a natural for bombers, he has no nerves and he can handle a +crew." Stan got to his feet. "Finish your pie and we'll be on our way."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<h3>ACTION</h3> + + +<p>Stan and O'Malley found Allison in his comfortable quarters, an old +English mansion set on a little hill. It stood in the middle of +well-kept grounds. As they drove up in their borrowed jeep, O'Malley +scowled at the house.</p> + +<p>"A blinking castle," he said in mock cockney British.</p> + +<p>They parked the jeep and went inside. The boys were gathered around an +open fire lounging in easy chairs. Allison moved out of a huddle and +crossed the room.</p> + +<p>"Welcome, you wallflowers," he said with a big smile.</p> + +<p>"Sure, an' yer a disgrace to the both of us, lollin' in the lap o' +luxury," O'Malley answered with a big grin.</p> + +<p>"How was it?" Stan asked.</p> + +<p>"Very rugged," Allison admitted. "Sit down while I order a pie for +O'Malley."</p> + +<p>The boys seated themselves and Allison described the mission. He loaded +his pipe and sat staring into the fire.</p> + +<p>"Not much like pushing a Spitfire or a Thunderbolt. You just plow along +through the muck and hope the boys will bat down all of the fighters +coming at you from every angle."</p> + +<p>"How many did you get?" O'Malley asked.</p> + +<p>"Six for sure," Allison answered. "The real fun started when we headed +for home. We had been plowing through flak as thick as a swarm of bees +but we had been lucky. Two of our flight went down flaming and we saw +the boys bail out. I thought we were slipping through pretty nicely when +an Me winged us with an explosive cannon shell. After that we got hit +plenty. We picked up a shell which went off inside our outboard engine. +It started rolling smoke but no flames. Then a shell smashed the +intercom system and communications went dead." Allison bit down hard on +his pipe.</p> + +<p>"Must have been tough," Stan said.</p> + +<p>"We couldn't hold our altitude. We lost about a thousand feet a minute +and nothing the copilot and I could do would hold her up."</p> + +<p>"Sure, an' you did a good job of it gettin' in," O'Malley praised.</p> + +<p>"When I couldn't talk to the crew I turned the controls over to the +copilot and went aft. I got to the top turret man and told him to get +the gunners together in the radio compartment. I figured we'd smack +right down into the channel." Allison fingered his pipe and stared into +the fire.</p> + +<p>"I went back to the copilot and we fought her head. She sagged in over +the coast and came right on home, smoking like a torch. As we came in, +we found we had a belly landing on our hands, so we skidded her in. Poor +Old Sal is a mess right now."</p> + +<p>"Anybody hurt?" Stan asked.</p> + +<p>"Bombardier got a piece of flak in his leg. The tail gunner had his +greenhouse blown into his face and is in the hospital. I forgot to say +we dumped our guns and everything else we could pry loose. I guess that +saved us." Allison leaned back. "When you fellows going to shift over? +This is the real thing."</p> + +<p>"Sitting duck stuff," O'Malley snorted. "You jest sit there an' take it. +You never fired a gun on the whole trip."</p> + +<p>"No," Allison admitted. "But we bagged six Jerries and there was plenty +of shooting. You should see my boys work those 50's."</p> + +<p>"We aim to stir up a bit of excitement," Stan said.</p> + +<p>Allison frowned at him. "You birds better remember this is modern +warfare, not the Battle of Britain or the Pacific. They'll bounce you +high and quick for breaking rules. This Eighth Air Force is big stuff +now."</p> + +<p>"Thanks for the warning," Stan answered. "But we plan to go through +proper channels."</p> + +<p>"And it's a deep secret," O'Malley added.</p> + +<p>O'Malley's pie arrived and he dropped out of the talk for a time. Stan +and Allison chatted about the changes and the amazing way the Eighth had +grown up until it took a large section of British farmland to house it.</p> + +<p>Stan and O'Malley left early and hurried back to their own mess. They +wanted to corner Colonel Holt. They found him in the mess looking very +dour and gloomy. He was alone. None of the other men seemed to care +about trying to cheer him up. Stan and O'Malley barged over to his +table.</p> + +<p>"May we sit down, sir?" Stan asked.</p> + +<p>"Sure." Holt motioned to two chairs.</p> + +<p>The boys sat down. Stan ordered coffee and O'Malley ordered pie.</p> + +<p>"I need just a bite to get me in shape for supper," he said when Stan +glared at him as he gave his order.</p> + +<p>"Lousy show today," Holt grumbled. "I don't mean the way you fellows +flew it, but the way the Germans have everything figured out so neatly. +We lost eleven bombers."</p> + +<p>"We might fool Jerry," Stan suggested.</p> + +<p>"How?"</p> + +<p>"Suppose we just toted along some extra tanks of gas and cut them loose +about the time the show should start. We know their tactics and pattern. +We'd have a lot of fun." Stan leaned forward.</p> + +<p>"Can't do that," Holt said. "You fellows might have to get busy as soon +as you hit the coast. Kicking off a tank can't be done with an FW +dropping out of a cloud on your tail."</p> + +<p>"Just half of us will go with extra loads. The others can cover for us. +We'd sure surprise Jerry." Stan spoke eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Foine idea an' one I'd have been proud to have thought up," O'Malley +broke in.</p> + +<p>Colonel Holt began to smile. "I believe you have something there. The +element of surprise and all that sort of thing. We'll take a crack at +it."</p> + +<p>"Elegant," O'Malley said. "I'm speaking for extra gas."</p> + +<p>"You and O'Malley get extra tanks. You're both old heads at lone wolf +tactics. I'm beginning to think we have too much handling out of the +control room." He bent forward and his smile faded. "But, remember this, +I'm under a general who's a stickler for the book, so be careful."</p> + +<p>"We won't let you down, sir," Stan promised.</p> + +<p>O'Malley just grinned wolfishly. "I got a date with that Jerry with the +red beard."</p> + +<p>"You boys tend to the installing yourselves. Oversee it yourselves. I'll +put through an order clearing everything for you."</p> + +<p>"Thanks, Colonel," Stan said. "Now we'll run along and get busy."</p> + +<p>"First you come with me and we'll figure out how much tank capacity +you'll need and how many men will go along." The colonel got to his +feet.</p> + +<p>"If you don't mind, sir, we'd like to have you sponsor the idea. We +intended to take it up with Lieutenant Sim Jones first. Wouldn't want to +be going over his head." Stan spoke quickly.</p> + +<p>Holt looked at him and nodded. "That's fine of you boys. Mind if I claim +the idea for the present?"</p> + +<p>"Not in the least," Stan answered.</p> + +<p>"In that case you'll hear from me later through regular channels. I see +you men know your way around in this army."</p> + +<p>Stan and O'Malley saluted and moved off. O'Malley grinned. "Slick work, +Stan," he said. "Now we won't get blamed for anything."</p> + +<p>"And we won't get a medal, either," Stan remarked as he matched +O'Malley's grin.</p> + +<p>Returning to their Nissen hut the boys policed their living quarters and +got things in order. The hut was such a primitive affair that little +could be done to keep it in order. The round wood stove leaked ashes on +the floor which was always tracked deep with mud. There was a little +wash bowl and a table which O'Malley used to stack his laundry upon. The +cots were GI with GI mattresses.</p> + +<p>After they had cleaned up, the boys went over to the huge sheds where +the mechanics worked over the planes. They learned from the chief +mechanic that Colonel Holt's order had come through.</p> + +<p>"I have the boys on your ships," the sergeant said. He did not seem to +approve of the idea.</p> + +<p>"I'll be after lookin' out fer me own ship," O'Malley said and hurried +away.</p> + +<p>"You don't seem to like the colonel's idea," Stan said.</p> + +<p>"We've tried it before, sir," the sergeant replied.</p> + +<p>"What happened?"</p> + +<p>"The boys got jumped out of cloud cover and were sitting ducks for the +Jerries," the sergeant said sourly. "Too much cloud cover and too many +Jerries for that stuff."</p> + +<p>Stan grinned. "I'll drop around and let you know how it works this +time."</p> + +<p>Walking back to his ship he watched the boys working on her. He was soon +satisfied that they knew just what should be done and made off. O'Malley +did not show up at mess and Stan began to wonder where he had gone. He +finally sauntered into the rest room where he found O'Malley shooting +the breeze with a group of fliers.</p> + +<p>"You missed a steak dinner," Stan greeted him.</p> + +<p>O'Malley grinned, "That's what you think," he said. "I had me a steak +dinner with the corporal that fixed up me ship. You know that feller +hadn't had a steak for a month. He sure went for it." O'Malley seated +himself and elevated his feet to the top of the radio. In this position +he promptly went to sleep.</p> + +<p>Stan talked with the boys until time to turn in. He wakened O'Malley and +they sloshed through the mud to their hut. During their absence, two +other boys, replacement men, had been quartered in the hut. They greeted +the two old heads eagerly.</p> + +<p>They were Bugs Monahan and Splinters Wright, both from Toledo, Ohio. +They had just finished flight combat school and were eager for action. +Someone had given them the records of Stan and O'Malley. They were both +eager to talk to the veterans. Splinters was a tall, thin youth with a +little mustache. Bugs was short and fat with a round beaming face and a +quick smile.</p> + +<p>"We've heard a lot about you fellows," Bugs said.</p> + +<p>"Never believe anything you hear in the army," Stan advised with a grin.</p> + +<p>"Sure, an' ye've been taken in by me auld pal Goebbels," O'Malley added.</p> + +<p>"I'm turning in. We'll get a call along about four in the morning," +Stan said. "See you boys over at the rest room. That's where we shoot +the breeze."</p> + +<p>"See you at midnight when we get up to poke wood into that stove," +O'Malley contradicted.</p> + +<p>"We'll keep the fire going. We're not sleepy," Splinters said. They were +both disappointed that the old heads did not want to go into a gabfest.</p> + +<p>Stan and O'Malley turned in. They had learned to get as much sleep as +possible. The two replacements kept the fire going as they had promised, +and the boys did not waken until they were called at three-fifty the +next morning. Bugs and Splinters had gotten a little sleep. They were up +instantly and eager to trail along and see what was going to happen.</p> + +<p>"Ye'll soon learn to sleep when ye get a chance," O'Malley said.</p> + +<p>They sloshed across to the operations room and joined their flight. Maps +were ready and Colonel Holt was standing with his fellow officers. The +room was filled with a buzz of talk. Something was up and the boys knew +it. Stan and O'Malley sat in the second row with Bugs and Splinters +beside them. Stan turned to the boys.</p> + +<p>"When you leave here you are not to talk to anyone about the operations +planned, not even to other officers," he warned.</p> + +<p>"There must be something up," Bugs said. "We'll keep mum."</p> + +<p>"When we get back we'll give you the story," Stan promised.</p> + +<p>Colonel Holt began speaking, and the talking stopped. "Men, we are going +to try a different approach. Weather says we'll have clear going." His +pointer moved along a red ribbon. "The bomber objective is a fighter +station and a plant near Huls. Ordinarily we'd turn back just beyond +Antwerp. Today we'll have a flight along which will carry enough extra +gasoline to add two-hundred-twenty miles in range. I'll spot those ships +for you and it will be the job of those carrying the regulation +one-hundred-ninety gallons to protect the specials until they drop their +extra tanks."</p> + +<p>The pilots who were to be long-range fighters grinned happily; the +others looked their disappointment. The colonel went on giving the +details.</p> + +<p>"The long-range ships will deploy and go in under the leadership of +Lieutenant Wilson. He will have detailed evasion orders."</p> + +<p>The boys listened to the rest of the briefing impatiently. Stan stayed +after the others left. Colonel Holt went over the plan with him, then +Stan hurried out to get his group together. Sim Jones met him as he +entered the flight room. He gave Stan a cold look.</p> + +<p>"Did you engineer this, Wilson?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"I did not ask to be put in command, if that's what you mean," Stan +answered.</p> + +<p>"You act like you thought you had to take over here," Sim said and his +eyes blazed.</p> + +<p>"Wilson has forgotten more about flyin' than you'll ever know," O'Malley +cut in. "And ye better remember that."</p> + +<p>"Easy, now. This is a teamwork job," Stan said. "Your orders are to +cover our long-range ships. They'll be heavy and gas logged. My planes +have to get to use all of that extra gas, Sim. What we're doing is +trying to break the jinx on the fighters."</p> + +<p>"Yeah? It smells bad to me. I think you're trying to get yourself an +extra bar on your shoulder."</p> + +<p>Stan's lips pulled into a straight line. "I don't care what you think of +me, personally, but you better cover my flight, and cover it right."</p> + +<p>The other fliers were staring at the two officers. They had worked under +Sim Jones a long time. Stan was a newcomer the same as Colonel Holt; +both had seen much service in other theaters of war. Stan sensed that +they were siding with Sim. He turned away and began getting into his +outfit. O'Malley was beside him.</p> + +<p>"That bird may try something," O'Malley said out of the side of his +mouth.</p> + +<p>"We sure slipped up when we didn't let him tell this plan to the +colonel," Stan said sourly.</p> + +<p>The boys sloshed out on the field. Stan looked over the dim outlines of +the planes. He would have six ships in his penetration flight. His boys +had been carefully instructed. They were to break away and appear to +leave with the other fighters, then loop up and over and come in on the +enemy from out of the sun when he dived down after the bombers.</p> + +<p>One by one the Thunderbolts slipped into the raw morning darkness. Stan +eased his ship off the ground and up into the sky. He dropped into place +in Sim's flight along with O'Malley. They were separated by one ship. +The Thunderbolts carrying extra weight were spotted so they could be +covered by the others.</p> + +<p>Soon they picked up the Forts and Libs and were headed across the +channel toward Flushing. Day broke and they could see the bombers below +them. The air was clear and cold but there were many scattered banks of +clouds all around. Stan kept his eyes open. Today he was not watching +the beauty of the bomber formation, he was checking on his own flight of +fighters. Sim was holding his ships in perfect formation. They roared +along with Stan and his boys using gasoline from their reserve tanks so +that they could get rid of them as soon as possible.</p> + +<p>Their first action came near the coast. A flight of Focke-Wulf 190's +broke out of a big cloud and roared in on them.</p> + +<p>"Break for action. Cover specials!" Sim called.</p> + +<p>The formation of Thunderbolts broke up and the fight was on. As usual +the Jerries were not aiming to close with the Yanks. They were willing +to pick off a cripple or a plane cut out from the flight but not to make +it a real battle. Their job was to delay and to pull the fighters away +from the bombers.</p> + +<p>Sim handled the situation well. The Thunderbolts did not break away, nor +were they delayed. They met each thrust and stab, but they refused to be +pulled into side shows. For once O'Malley was ignoring a Jerry fighter. +He was well up in front heading straight for Germany. Stan was in the +rear where he had been spotted. Sim was flying his cover, having dropped +back for that purpose.</p> + +<p>"I guess he's all right," Stan muttered. "He's making it his personal +business to see that I get through."</p> + +<p>At that moment two FW's dived down at the tail ships. Stan did not shift +course.</p> + +<p>All Sim had to do was to make a pass at the Jerries, loop over and shoo +them away. Suddenly Stan realized Sim was not making a pass. He had +stabbed at a Jerry coming in far to the side.</p> + +<p>Kicking his rudder, Stan went into action. The Jerries, seeing their +chance, had cut him off and now he would be sucked into a fight. The +Thunderbolt responded awkwardly. Stan reached for the tank release, then +his hand froze. If he kicked loose his tanks, the Jerries would be wise +to the trick. They would radio the information to base. Grimly Stan +dived and then zoomed.</p> + +<p>The two Focke-Wulfs gleefully tore in upon him. Stan gave one of them a +burst but missed. He was caught like a clumsy float plane and knew it. +Up he went and over, using every evasive trick he knew. Out of the +corner of his eye he saw that Sim had banked sharply and was coming back +to help him. He also spotted the cloud the Jerries had used to ambush +the flight. As he laid over and made for it, one of the FW's knifed in +and splattered him with lead. He felt the bullets pinging against his +armor plate and ripping through his wings. Ducking, he went down under +the cloud, just what the Jerry wanted.</p> + +<p>Sim had cut out one of the FW's but two others had joined the hunt, bent +on finishing the Thunderbolt they had cut off. Stan laid over and +wobbled around just as though he was hit bad. The Jerry banked and went +up a bit to get a better dive. He figured he had plenty of time because +the Yank was crippled. That was what Stan wanted. He kicked the +Thunderbolt wide open and zoomed for the cloud. Too late the Jerry saw +what was up. He roared down through the misty edge of the cloud and +barely missed a head-on crash with Stan.</p> + +<p>The instant the cloud closed around him Stan kicked off his extra tanks, +then he dived up and over the cloud. The Jerries were waiting for him. +Sim was chasing one FW, but three waited for the cripple. When Stan came +zooming out of the top of the cloud, they were a bit startled and showed +it by their hesitation. Stan grinned as he snapped his ship over and +dived on the nearest Jerry.</p> + +<p>Before the German could get going Stan had him in his sights and his +thumb had squeezed the gun button. His six 50's flamed and the recoil +set the Thunderbolt back on her flaps. The Jerry shuddered an instant, +then broke in two and burst into roaring flames. Stan went over the +wreckage and cut in between the other two Jerries. They were alive now +and in action. Around the three went, up and over, painting the chill +sky with streaks and loops of vapor. Stan did not hold on long. The +instant he had a chance to dive and run for it he did. And the Jerries +did not chase him. They were convinced he was no cripple.</p> + +<p>As Stan roared after his formation he saw Sim closing in from far to his +left. He was red-hot and wanted to tell Sim a few things, but he knew +the setup was such that he had to keep his mouth closed. Sim had made an +error of judgment in going after the lone Jerry and letting the other +two cut him out. Stan was sure it was intentional, but he could never +prove it.</p> + +<p>Another thing that worried him was that he did not know how much +gasoline he had used out of his reserve before he kicked his tanks +loose. He was flight leader of the group headed for Huls. If he went on +with his flight and there was much dogfighting, going and coming, he +might not get home. Sim's voice came in.</p> + +<p>"Wilson, sorry I couldn't handle all three Jerries. You'll have to go +back with our flight."</p> + +<p>Stan scowled. Sim appeared well pleased with the idea. "I'll use my own +judgment," Stan snapped back.</p> + +<p>"Name a leader and go back," Sim barked. "That is an order."</p> + +<p>"Sorry," Stan answered. "I'm taking the boys on through."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<h3>HULS</h3> + + +<p>Stan overtook his formation and dropped into place. The flight was +deployed with the Jerries perched up above and around waiting for the +Yanks to go home. Below lay the fields of Holland.</p> + +<p>"Are you clear, specials?" Stan called.</p> + +<p>"All clear," the boys called back. That meant they had zoomed down and +ditched their tanks in a way the Germans would not notice.</p> + +<p>Flak was coming up and a flight of FWs were worrying the Fortresses and +Liberators below. One big fellow was out of formation and having a tough +time. Fifteen FW's were after it.</p> + +<p>"We'll go down and have a crack at those FW's on that Fort," Stan +called. "So long, Sim, see you at mess!"</p> + +<p>One after another the six special Thunderbolts zoomed down upon the +FW's. They came down in a screaming dive and their first burst sent five +FW's smoking to earth. Instantly the whole battle changed. The flocks of +Jerries up above were taken by surprise because this was not according +to the book. The Yanks should be keeping altitude, holding them pinned +to the sky, and they were due any moment to start running for home.</p> + +<p>Stan and his crew covered the limping bomber and she began to pull up +into place where her flight had slowed to help her. Up above, the +Jerries cut loose and the Yanks got a crack at them as they tried to +filter through. For five minutes the sky was a battlefield, then the +Thunderbolts up above had to leave. They broke off and headed for home. +Behind them they left the wreckage of eleven Messerschmitts and +Focke-Wulfs.</p> + +<p>With the bombers, O'Malley was putting on a show which reminded Stan of +the old days. He was stunting so wildly and slamming lead so fast the +Jerries began giving him a wide berth. Stan began to realize that their +mission was not to be any picnic. One Thunderbolt went down, slashed +open by a cannon shell. No chute blossomed out beneath it as it twisted +and rolled toward earth.</p> + +<p>There were too many Me's and Focke-Wulf fighters. They were everywhere, +stabbing and diving, slashing at the bombers and ganging up on the +fighters. Stan realized that his flight should have had at least thirty +planes in it, and he began to suspect someone back at headquarters had +marked this down as an experiment, figuring upon losing only six planes.</p> + +<p>Another Thunderbolt went down and then another. O'Malley was still +taking care of himself and Stan was doing all right, but his gasoline +gauge was leering at him and its needle was rolling steadily around. +When the fourth Thunderbolt broke into flames, Stan knew it was time to +go home. He probably would not make it, but there was a chance.</p> + +<p>"O'Malley! Stan calling. Head for home!"</p> + +<p>Looking through the smoke and the bursts of flak, Stan saw nothing of +O'Malley. The Irishman had been in the midst of a fight a few minutes +before, but now he was nowhere to be seen. He checked the bomber flight. +It was going in for its bombing run and the batteries on the ground knew +just where the automatic pilots would take over for the run. They were +putting up a box barrage at that point.</p> + +<p>The Forts and the Libs rode into that blazing inferno of fire without +wavering or shifting formation. Stan saw bombs dropping, sticks of big +fellows. A Fort directly below him was plowing ahead when a puff of +smoke enveloped its tail. The smoke swirled away and there was the Fort +without any tail at all, only gaping holes where the rudder and the high +tail had been. The Fort sagged over and went into a terrible dive. One +after another chutes blossomed out until Stan had counted six. That was +the number alive in the Fort, the others were dead.</p> + +<p>Stan laid over and made a sweep, ducking in and out of the flak. The +Jerries had pulled away and gone back to their fields for more +ammunition and more gasoline for the interception of the Forts and Libs +on their return trip.</p> + +<p>Looking about, Stan saw nothing of O'Malley's ship. He headed for home +with a grim frown on his face. Everything went well until he reached the +channel. He met no German fighters and had a fair tail wind. But his +gasoline supply was very low. The needle kept bouncing off the empty +peg, riding clear, then dropping back. The English coast was a long way +off.</p> + +<p>Stan was flying at twelve thousand feet and that gave him a chance to +drift a long way, but not far enough if his gas ran out. Steadily he +drove toward the friendly shore. Below him the channel looked cold and +choppy.</p> + +<p>Thinking of O'Malley added to his gloom. When you work with a man in the +air, you expect the day when he does not return with you. But when the +time comes it is a stabbing shock. Stan and O'Malley had seen so much +action and had tackled so many tough jobs, they had come to feel they +always would pull through.</p> + +<p>Glancing at the gas gauge Stan saw that it registered empty, and the +needle was not showing any signs of movement. He glanced down at the +gray expanse below him and frowned. His ears strained for the first +break in the steady throbbing of the Pratt and Whitney radial.</p> + +<p>The engine kept hammering away for a long time. Stan checked his Mae +West suit and made other small preparations for a bath in the channel. +Then the engine sputtered, smoothed out, then sputtered again. With a +wheezing blast it went dead.</p> + +<p>Stan eased the nose down to hold his speed and began sagging down a long +slope toward the channel. He scanned the choppy sea for signs of a +British patrol boat. Several of the fast rescue boats should be +patrolling the flight line, ready to fish Yank pilots and crewmen out of +the water. He saw no sign of a boat.</p> + +<p>Slowly the Thunderbolt settled down. Floating a fourteen-thousand-pound +fighter in over a long distance is not like slipping along in a glider. +If there were any up-drafts, the Thunderbolt paid no attention to them. +She sliced on through and Stan had to nose her down to keep her from +falling like a rock.</p> + +<p>The sea came up to meet him and he began judging the spot where he would +take his bath in the icy water. Suddenly he heard the roar of plane +motors and looked up and back. A Fort was nosing down toward him. Stan +squinted to see if he could catch the markings. He could not make them +out, but he knew the ship was a bomber returning from Huls.</p> + +<p>There was no time for further looking. The Thunderbolt hit and hit hard, +as though she had slammed into a stone wall. She slewed around, jerked +and bobbed, slamming Stan back against his shock pad. He palmed the +hatch cover open and kicked loose from his belt and chute harness. In a +moment he was leaping into the water and the Thunderbolt was swirling +down into the sea. She lifted one wing as she slid from sight, as though +saluting him.</p> + +<p>"Tough luck, old girl," Stan said. He got a mouthful of salt water and +began sputtering.</p> + +<p>The Fort was low over the sea now and Stan saw that it was shot up a +bit. Then he saw the name painted on its fuselage. It was The Monkey's +Paw, the Fort Allison had taken over for the raid. He waved, and the +Fort dipped her wings. She went roaring on toward the thin black line +which was the coast.</p> + +<p>That meant rescue unless the high waves battered him and pulled him +under before a boat located him. He was struggling to stay afloat on the +rough sea when a Spitfire began circling overhead. The Spit dropped down +lower and lower. It wove back and forth and finally it dived toward him. +Stan waved some more.</p> + +<p>The Spit stayed with Stan until an orange-snouted speedboat appeared +over the foam-rimmed horizon. The boat came roaring toward him, guided +by the Spit. Stan grinned eagerly. Nice teamwork. Allison had radioed, +the Spitfire pilot had picked up the message, and he had been rescued.</p> + +<p>The speedboat pulled alongside and strong hands caught hold of Stan.</p> + +<p>"Up you come, me hearty," a seaman shouted.</p> + +<p>Stan was so chilled he had to hang on to the arm of the sailor to keep +his knees from buckling.</p> + +<p>"A bit chilly, eh?" a young officer asked. "Come along. We'll wrap you +in a newfangled blanket your Uncle Sam just furnished us."</p> + +<p>"It wasn't exactly a Turkish bath," Stan admitted.</p> + +<p>"I'll radio in for an ambulance," the officer said as he helped Stan +wiggle out of his soggy clothes and into the electrically heated +blanket.</p> + +<p>"No ambulance," Stan said. "I'll catch a ride over to my base with +someone."</p> + +<p>"The ambulance is the fastest way," the officer said.</p> + +<p>"They'd take me to a hospital, and that's the last place I want to see. +Just dry my outfit if you can."</p> + +<p>"Glad to, old fellow, and we'll have a spot of hot tea ready for you in +a jiffy." The officer turned away.</p> + +<p>Stan drank hot tea and toasted himself inside the blanket until they +were near the port where they were to put in. By that time his clothing +had been dried by one of the machinist mate's men in the engine room.</p> + +<p>Getting dressed Stan went on deck. They were edging in beside a pier. +Stan was the first over the side. He shook hands with the British +officer and waved to the crew, then he headed for a row of cars parked +along the street near the wharf. Picking out a car with a uniformed girl +at the wheel he walked over to it.</p> + +<p>"Hi, Yank," the girl greeted him. "You look a bit wrinkled."</p> + +<p>"I just had my daily bath in the channel." Stan grinned at the girl. "My +butler forgot to pack my bathing suit so I went in as is. How about a +lift?"</p> + +<p>"This is Sir Eaton Pelham's car. I'm afraid it isn't available." She +smiled sweetly when she said it.</p> + +<p>Stan glanced at the other cars. There were no other drivers about. He +looked back at the girl.</p> + +<p>"Sir Eaton a kindhearted man?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Very," she assured him. "He carries a pocketful of cracker crumbs for +the pigeons."</p> + +<p>At that moment Sir Eaton Pelham appeared. He was a burly Englishman, +wrapped snugly in the folds of a greatcoat. His ruddy face beamed and he +nodded to Stan.</p> + +<p>"Jolly nice weather for one day," he said as he opened the door of the +car.</p> + +<p>"Very," Stan answered. "How about a lift?"</p> + +<p>Sir Eaton looked at Stan closely for the first time. "I say, a Yank +flier. What could you be doing here?"</p> + +<p>"I was just fished out of the channel by one of His Majesty's patrol +boats and want to get back to base."</p> + +<p>"Hop in, old man. Where is base?"</p> + +<p>"Take me to Diss," Stan said as he climbed in.</p> + +<p>"Right-o." Sir Eaton did not ask any more questions. He spoke about the +country they whirled through, but never mentioned the war at all. When +Stan got down at Diss, Sir Eaton waved his thanks aside. "Good hunting, +my boy," he said. Turning to his driver he said, "Whitehall, London. +We'll have to hit it a bit fast to be on time for my meeting."</p> + +<p>Stan stood staring at the car as it whirled away. "Whitehall," he +muttered. "Pelham." Suddenly he began to laugh. He had hitched a ride +with one of Winston Churchill's right-hand men. And he had taken the +honorable assistant secretary many miles out of his way.</p> + +<p>Hailing a jeep Stan hooked a ride to the camp. He walked into operations +and up to the desk. A major looked up and then started.</p> + +<p>"Wilson!" he exclaimed. "We had you marked down as lost. Sim Jones +reported you short of gas."</p> + +<p>"I hitchhiked back. Caught a ride with one of Churchill's secretaries," +Stan said dryly.</p> + +<p>The major looked at him sharply, then shoved a pad across the desk. +"Just put that in writing," he said.</p> + +<p>Stan made his report, then headed for his hut to change into an +unwrinkled uniform. There was no one in the hut, but his things and the +belongings of O'Malley had been neatly stacked. Stan scowled.</p> + +<p>"They gather a man's stuff up in a hurry around here," he muttered.</p> + +<p>He put his own things back and did the same with O'Malley's. There would +be no rush about making O'Malley out a dead man. Getting into his +uniform he headed for the mess. He was suddenly very hungry.</p> + +<p>Walking into the little dining room he halted and his mouth dropped +open. At a table, with four youngsters listening open-mouthed to his +talk, sat O'Malley. He looked up and for a moment held a big piece of +steak poised on his fork. Then he shoved the steak into his mouth and +waved a big hand.</p> + +<p>Stan crossed the room and seated himself. There was no warm greeting. +O'Malley swallowed his steak and grinned at his pal.</p> + +<p>"Ye're a bit late, but in time for the pie course."</p> + +<p>"I took a bath on the way back," Stan said.</p> + +<p>"That spalpeen—"</p> + +<p>"Now, now," Stan cut in. "No names named."</p> + +<p>"I said a spalpeen let you down," O'Malley growled.</p> + +<p>"And what happened to you?"</p> + +<p>O'Malley grinned. "Me? Oh, I had the boys tuck an extra sixty gallons o' +gas aboard. The colonel said we was to handle fixing the tanks, so I +fixed mine like that."</p> + +<p>"You dropped out of sight at Huls in a hurry," Stan said.</p> + +<p>"I ran out of ammunition, and havin' a spot of extra gas, I did a bit o' +sight-seein'," O'Malley explained. "An' did I get an eyeful!"</p> + +<p>The four youngsters sighed and got to their feet. It was time for them +to shove off.</p> + +<p>"See you when I got time to tell you how I chased a Nazi birdman right +down on a British landing strip," O'Malley called after them.</p> + +<p>"You've been stringing the kids along," Stan said.</p> + +<p>"I gave them only a bird's-eye view o' the life o' the great O'Malley." +The Irishman leaned back and surveyed the platter where the steak had +been. "Now jest a wee bit of apple pie an' I'll have the edge taken off +me hunger."</p> + +<p>He ordered a whole pie. Stan ordered a steak and coffee. As soon as the +orders were placed before them, O'Malley leaned forward.</p> + +<p>"Sure, an' I saw the strangest sight today," he began. "I wouldn't have +believed it if I hadn't seen it."</p> + +<p>"What was it?"</p> + +<p>"I was flittin' along over the tops o' trees an' the spires o' kirks +when I zoom out over a wooded slope with a big cleared field in the +middle o' the woods. There on that field was at least seventy Jerry +fighter planes." O'Malley paused to cram a large bite of pie into his +mouth.</p> + +<p>"Fighter field. Did you get its location?"</p> + +<p>"Sure. An' I thought I'd give those fellers a grand scare. There wasn't +a plane in the air, so I was safe. I zoomed up an' over an' came down in +a dive." O'Malley paused and shook his head. "You'd never believe it. I +could hardly believe me own eyes. When I came back down to scare the +daylights out o' them Krauts, there wasn't a plane on that field. They +just vanished." O'Malley looked hard at his pie and kept on shaking his +head.</p> + +<p>"It's all right to tell that yarn to me, but don't ever tell it to a +general," Stan said. "Did they all take to the air?"</p> + +<p>"Nary a plane in the air. It's some black magic them Krauts have +conjured up, if ye ask me."</p> + +<p>It was clear that O'Malley was in dead earnest. Stan believed O'Malley +had seen the planes. He also believed there was some trick the Germans +had worked out to hide their fighter fields and to protect them.</p> + +<p>"We'll have another look," O'Malley said. "I have the place spotted."</p> + +<p>"Being able to get fighters out of sight so quickly would account for +our not being able to knock out their fighter fields," Stan said. "We'll +have to give this some thought."</p> + +<p>"It ought to get us special duty," O'Malley said.</p> + +<p>"I'll bet you slipped inside their warning system and caught them +flat-footed. But there must be some way they get parked planes moved so +fast."</p> + +<p>"We'll be the b'ys to find that out," O'Malley answered.</p> + +<p>"I doubt if we ever make anybody swallow your story," Stan said.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<h3>SCOUTING MISSION</h3> + + +<p>Stan and O'Malley had a visitor that night. Allison drove over to see +them. Looking around the Nissen hut, he grinned broadly.</p> + +<p>"Sure, an' I'll call the butler," O'Malley said. "He just stepped into +the drawin' room."</p> + +<p>"Sit down, pal." Stan motioned toward one of the cots.</p> + +<p>"Homey spot you have here," Allison observed.</p> + +<p>"How did it go today?" Stan asked.</p> + +<p>"You fellows did a swell job, but why only six fighters?" Allison's +smile had faded.</p> + +<p>"The brass hats knew I was goin' along," O'Malley replied.</p> + +<p>"One of those little experiments," Stan explained grimly.</p> + +<p>"Pretty expensive try, I'd say," Allison answered.</p> + +<p>"O'Malley spotted a big fighter base all equipped with vanishing +planes." Stan got to the point he wanted to discuss at once.</p> + +<p>"There must be dozens of them, but we have never been able to spot any +of them to knock them out. Those Me's and FW's just sprout out of the +ground as we go along." Allison frowned and shook his head. "If we could +spot the fields, we could send out separate missions ahead of a raid and +knock off those fields."</p> + +<p>"O'Malley says they snap the planes out of sight in less than a minute. +He slipped in over one of them, circled, and when he came back there +wasn't a plane in sight."</p> + +<p>"I figure there were at least seventy planes parked when I popped in +over the field. When I came back over they were gone." O'Malley shook +his head.</p> + +<p>"Think anyone would believe such a yarn?" Stan asked.</p> + +<p>"Every bomber pilot and crew member would believe it," Allison said +grimly. "Why don't you report it and ask for a chance to check up?"</p> + +<p>"I've already gone over the head of Sim Jones once and got socked for +it," Stan said. "But O'Malley ought to report it."</p> + +<p>"Sure, an' I'll be after seein' Colonel Holt meself." O'Malley ran his +fingers through his mop of red hair. "I'd as soon have this Jones bird +after me as not."</p> + +<p>After that the talk got around to the raid on Huls. Allison's ship had +come through with only a few bullet holes. His bombardier had laid their +eggs squarely on a factory building. It had been a good show for the +Forts and Libs.</p> + +<p>"What I'm worried about," Allison said as he got ready to leave, "is +that the Wellingtons and Lancasters will blow Berlin off the map before +we are able to penetrate that far."</p> + +<p>"Them nighthawks?" O'Malley showed his scorn by frowning savagely. +"Flyin' boxcars!"</p> + +<p>"They haul a lot of TNT and they get through, to their targets, but +there'll be a lot of stuff for the precision sights of the Forts and +Libs," Stan said. "You notice when they want important targets like +locks or sub pens or carefully placed factories they send you boys to +get them."</p> + +<p>"I know, old man," Allison said with a grin. "But I'd like to make the +Berlin run."</p> + +<p>"With those hidden fighter fields out of the way you could go in and out +alone," Stan pointed out. "The way it is now, they keep sending up +fighters all along the route."</p> + +<p>"I have to run for it," Allison said. "Pilots meeting."</p> + +<p>After he had gone Stan and O'Malley headed for Colonel Holt's office. +Bugs and Splinters came in just as they were leaving. They were both +highly excited. They had been assigned to active duty. Stan smiled at +them but he was thinking that they were taking the places of the men who +had been in his flight.</p> + +<p>The boys were waiting for the colonel when Sim Jones came out of a side +door. He paused for a moment. Stan eyed him coldly; O'Malley walked on +into the colonel's office without speaking.</p> + +<p>"I suppose you think I deliberately tricked you, Wilson. You're headed +for the Old Man." His lips pulled tight. "I don't blame you, but I +didn't pull that stunt to get you cut out. It was a boner on my part."</p> + +<p>"It was," Stan agreed dryly. "And I'm not squawking to the colonel."</p> + +<p>Sim looked Stan in the eye; he flushed a deep red. "I figured I was so +good I could cut back and take out all three Jerries."</p> + +<p>"Forget it," Stan said and grinned. "We all pull 'em."</p> + +<p>Sim turned and hurried away without another word. Stan was still smiling +as he entered the colonel's office. O'Malley scowled up at him.</p> + +<p>"Did you bop him one?" he asked.</p> + +<p>The colonel was seated at his desk. He looked from Stan to O'Malley and +lifted his eyebrows.</p> + +<p>"No," Stan said. "I made a date to have lunch with him."</p> + +<p>O'Malley's eyes opened wide. The colonel leaned back. "Go ahead with +your story, Lieutenant," he said.</p> + +<p>O'Malley finished his story and the colonel considered the matter for a +few minutes.</p> + +<p>"It sounds fantastic," he finally said. "But it fits in very neatly with +what we have been able to learn about German fighter tactics. I think we +should look into it. I'll let you men know what I plan to do."</p> + +<p>"Could we have any special assignment growing out of this?" Stan asked.</p> + +<p>"You will get the special assignment," the colonel promised.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, sir," Stan answered as he got to his feet.</p> + +<p>They saluted and left the office. O'Malley was still in a sour mood.</p> + +<p>"You made up with that Jones bird?"</p> + +<p>"I did," Stan said. "Now let's head for the mess."</p> + +<p>When they entered the mess, the boys greeted them warmly and crowded +around. There was no trace of resentment or jealousy. The fellows were +eager to know what had happened over Huls. Stan and O'Malley were the +only two pilots to get back. Sim sat at a table alone.</p> + +<p>Stan talked with the boys a while, then walked over to where Sim was +seated. He pulled out a chair and sat down.</p> + +<p>"Mind if I join you?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Glad to have you," Sim said and meant it.</p> + +<p>After a bit O'Malley came over. He had noticed that Stan and Sim were +laughing over something and he did not know what to make of it.</p> + +<p>"Sit down," Stan greeted him. "Have a pie on me."</p> + +<p>"Sure, an' I'll do that," O'Malley said. He sat down and waited to hear +what he could.</p> + +<p>Stan and Sim laughed and talked and finally O'Malley joined in. It was +clear that the boys had buried the hatchet, so he saw no reason for +being grumpy. Besides, the cook had just made some blueberry pies and +they were extra tasty.</p> + +<p>After mess Stan got a call from Colonel Holt and hurried off, leaving +O'Malley and Sim together. The colonel had two officers with him when +Stan went in to see him.</p> + +<p>"General Ward and Major Kulp," the colonel said. "This is Lieutenant +Wilson."</p> + +<p>The men shook hands and all sat down. The colonel passed several papers +across to Stan.</p> + +<p>"You are on special detail. You'll be equipped with P-51 ships and have +a flight of three. General Ward suggests you do a bit of rhubarb +raiding."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, sir. These 51's are the new long-range fighters?"</p> + +<p>"They have the same range as the Libs and Forts." The colonel smiled. +"But we have only a few of them. Later, perhaps, we'll have a great +many."</p> + +<p>"Check carefully on location and construction of fields. Each ship has a +camera to record the details of any fields you locate." General Ward +spoke in a Texas drawl.</p> + +<p>"Don't trust the cameras entirely. Get down low and see all you can," +the major added.</p> + +<p>"The third pilot, who is he?" Stan asked.</p> + +<p>"Did you have a man in mind?" Colonel Holt asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"I should have consulted you, but I already have promised a man the +job."</p> + +<p>"Who is he?" Stan asked, trying not to show his disappointment.</p> + +<p>"Lieutenant Jones."</p> + +<p>Stan began to grin. "The same man I had in mind," he said.</p> + +<p>"Good. Now take over."</p> + +<p>Stan hurried away. He found the boys listening to the radio in the rest +room. At his nod O'Malley and Sim joined him at a reading table.</p> + +<p>"We get special rhubarb detail," he said.</p> + +<p>"Foine," O'Malley said eagerly. "Only we'll never be able to fly far +enough into Kraut territory to see anything."</p> + +<p>"I get to go along?" Sim asked.</p> + +<p>"Colonel's orders," Stan said and grinned. "And we get P-51 ships with +the same range as the Forts."</p> + +<p>"Sure, an' we'll fly to Berlin," O'Malley said.</p> + +<p>"You better be thinking about locating that airfield," Stan answered. +"There was a general at the meeting I just left."</p> + +<p>"As long as he won't be askin' to go along, it's all right," O'Malley +said.</p> + +<p>"Now let's get some shut-eye." Stan got to his feet.</p> + +<p>In the operations room the next morning, their papers were ready and +they headed out on the field where three big Mustangs stood ready and +warmed up. They were powerhouses with wicked armament and plenty of +wingspread. In addition to wing guns, they had bomb racks which were +fitted with extra gasoline tanks.</p> + +<p>"Sure, an' they're one-man bombers," O'Malley crowed.</p> + +<p>"They weren't built for hedge-hopping, but the major said they could do +about four hundred miles per hour on the treetop level," Stan explained.</p> + +<p>Sim whistled. "Wait until the Eighth gets a flock of these," he said.</p> + +<p>"You plot the course, O'Malley," Stan said. "We'll stay in close until +we start down over Germany, then we'll keep within striking distance to +cover each other. We're camera equipped but we have to use our eyes, +too."</p> + +<p>The boys climbed up and got settled. Control gave Stan clearance and he +called to his flight.</p> + +<p>"Rhubarb Raid, check temperatures. Sim, take off first. Rendezvous at +twenty thousand."</p> + +<p>Stan leaned back and checked his instruments. He watched Sim slide away +and shoot skyward. The 51's were plenty fast. O'Malley went off next and +was in the air almost at once. Stan kicked his throttle open and roared +after his pals. The Mustang hopped off as though she weighed only a few +pounds instead of three tons or more.</p> + +<p>The three P-51's slipped into close formation and headed out across the +channel. The day was a good one for reconnaissance, because there were +many banks of clouds at high level with a very high ceiling. Stan kept +his eyes open for enemy interceptors. He half hoped a few Me's would +spot them so that they could try out the new ships. No fighters were +seen until they reached the mouth of the Rhine.</p> + +<p>Below them they could see Rotterdam and beyond, Gorinchem. O'Malley was +wagging his wings, signaling to go down. The fighters they spotted, +three in number, did not try to intercept them.</p> + +<p>Stan signaled back and they all peeled off. The P-51 went down smoothly +but with a swift rush that set Stan back against the shock pad. He had +to ease on a bit more power to stay with O'Malley who was trying his +ship out.</p> + +<p>At five thousand feet they flattened out a quarter mile apart and +stalled in toward a line of trees and a windmill. O'Malley brushed the +sails of the mill as he swept over it. They were close to the ground +now, flipping along like cotton dusters on a Texas plantation. O'Malley +was hugging the ground, popping over trees and sliding between +buildings. Stan saw the white faces of people as they looked up. Most of +them waved to the ship with the United States insignia. They were Dutch +farmers.</p> + +<p>The three ships hedge-hopped on over the low country. O'Malley held a +speed that made the ground blur and waver. It also made dodging power +lines and missing church steeples exciting business. Stan raked a +pennant off the top of a building without seeing the building at all. +After that he called to O'Malley.</p> + +<p>"Hey, you. Get up a bit!"</p> + +<p>"Sure, an' the scenery is foine down here," O'Malley called back. But he +did take a little more altitude.</p> + +<p>They roared in over Germany and headed for Huls. Twice they were blasted +by machine guns, but they were flying so low the German detector system +had not spotted them. They were put down as Mosquito bombers out hunting +locomotives and trains:</p> + +<p>"We're coming in now," O'Malley called.</p> + +<p>He had swung wide of Huls and was headed for some low hills. Knifing +over the the nearest hill, with their bellies scraping the tops of a row +of trees, the three P-51's nosed into a little valley.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Stan saw the airfield O'Malley had spotted. In a snap guess he +placed the number of planes lined up at one hundred. They were in a +long row at the base of a hill. Runways led out to a wide flight strip.</p> + +<p>"Strafe them!" he shouted.</p> + +<p>The order was not necessary. O'Malley and Sim were going straight down +the line of planes, their guns blasting flame and lead. The target was +so narrow that Stan had to stall and slip a bit to drop behind in order +to get a shot at the line.</p> + +<p>The Mustangs went over so fast the Germans did not have time to fire a +shot at them. Not a plane moved, except those which blew up or burst +into flames under the withering fire from the Yank guns. Up the P-51's +went and over the ridge. They were roaring along at such a pace that it +took a long zoom and bank to get lined up for a return trip.</p> + +<p>When they came back over, the Germans were ready for them. Smoke makers +were billowing thick haze over the scene and every imaginable sort of +gun was slamming lead and steel into the sky. The air above the field +was thick with flaming muck. O'Malley was out in front with Sim close +off his port wing. He went into the muck low down. Stan came in a bit +behind his pals.</p> + +<p>Looking down into the flaming muzzles of the guns Stan stared hard. +There wasn't a plane in sight! Not even the burning ships or those +blasted to bits could be seen. There was nothing but the green slope of +the hill and the smooth runways leading to the flight strip.</p> + +<p>"Well, what do you know!" he muttered.</p> + +<p>At that instant the muck enveloped him along with the pall of smoke from +the edges of the field. Just ahead of him he saw something that looked +like a huge rocket lift toward Sim's ship. It exploded with a blinding +flash directly under the P-51. Sim's ship shot upward and a wing swirled +away like a dark strip of paper torn from a wall. Then the P-51 nosed +into the ground and exploded. Cold sweat broke out all over Stan's body +as he pulled his ship over and up.</p> + +<p>At five thousand feet up and well away from the hot spot, Stan took +stock. He tried to call O'Malley and found his radio was shot out. +Looking through his spattered hatch cover, he saw that his port wing +had three gaping holes in it. But the engine was singing sweetly. His +first thought was to locate O'Malley, but he had another when he spotted +three Focke-Wulf fighters roaring in on his tail.</p> + +<p>"We'll see what you have to offer, sister," he said softly as he kicked +the Mustang wide open and laid her over.</p> + +<p>The big ship responded with a surge of power that yanked her into the +sky and over in a perfect roll before Stan could decide what was going +on. Leveling off, Stan looked for the FW's. They had missed him by a +wide margin. Stan grinned.</p> + +<p>"You don't need a pilot, lady," he said.</p> + +<p>Coming over he tried a burst on one of the FW's. It was a long shot, but +the Jerry was lined up neatly in his sight. The heavy guns of the P-51 +roared and bucked. Up ahead the FW wobbled and dived. The other two went +up for altitude. Stan went up, too. The P-51 was a high-altitude lady +and would do better up where she had rare air and plenty of space.</p> + +<p>Stan eased away from the FW's and did not challenge them. They circled, +taking a good look at this new type of fighter. They had learned from +sad experience that any new Yank ship might prove to be deadly. The +Forts had taught them that.</p> + +<p>Stan was well up now where he could look down on the flight strip below. +He saw nothing of O'Malley but he did see two wrecked planes at the far +edge of the field away from the hill. Nosing down Stan dived toward the +field. The two FW's dived after him, but he soon eased away from them.</p> + +<p>Sweeping in a few yards above the runway, Stan laid over just a little. +He checked the wrecks and saw that one of them was Sim's ship. The other +was an FW fighter minus one wing. The Germans behind their hidden +batteries opened up with a savage burst of fire. Stan went straight +toward the hill, flying low to keep out of the flak. As he shot up off +the runway he stared hard at the hillside ahead, then blinked his eyes.</p> + +<p>"So," he said softly. "So that's the way it is."</p> + +<p>He went up and over the hill, spiraling into the sky in a climb steeper +than any ship had ever carried him. The FW's had been joined by five Me +110's, but the Jerries did not close with him. Stan headed for home as +fast as the P-51 could travel, which topped four hundred miles per hour +by a wide margin.</p> + +<p>He was roaring along with no opposition in sight and a clear sky around +him when he suddenly spotted a plane in his mirror. It was overhauling +him rapidly. Suddenly Stan grinned. He eased back on the throttle and +waggled his wings as O'Malley roared over him. Picking up speed, he +dropped in beside his pal and signaled that his radio was dead. They +roared on home, wing to wing.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<h3>HIDDEN DROMES</h3> + + +<p>Stan sat at Colonel Holt's desk along with O'Malley. It had taken them +just twenty minutes to get from the operations room to the colonel's +office. Holt had called in Major Kulp of the photography wing and +General Ward from the command staff.</p> + +<p>"When I came in to check the wrecked planes," Stan said, "I was able to +see how they do it. They have a screen on tracks. It is covered over +with brush and leaves and looks from any angle, except squarely in +front, like the side of the hill. They just roll it out and it covers +the planes."</p> + +<p>"You wrecked quite a few of them on the ground?" the general asked.</p> + +<p>"We must have smashed at least half of them," Stan answered. "But the +part that interested me most was the underground hangars. The screen is +only a temporary camouflage. The planes are snapped back into the +underground hangar. I say we got about half of them, because the wrecked +ones were still out under the screen. The others had been pulled back."</p> + +<p>"We can bomb those hangars out," the colonel said.</p> + +<p>"I don't think so," Stan said. "I judge there's a full forty feet of +earth over them as a roof, and I suppose there's at least ten feet of +concrete under that."</p> + +<p>"That would make them safe. Have any any ideas for handling them?" +General Ward bent forward eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Yes," Stan replied. "We could skip-bomb them."</p> + +<p>"Skip-bomb?" Major Kulp asked.</p> + +<p>"Bounce our bombs right into the open end of the hangar," Stan said, +grinning.</p> + +<p>"It might work," Colonel Holt said.</p> + +<p>"The P-51's carry bombs, and I'm sure the boys could rig them so that we +could fly at the right angle to bounce them into the hangars. If we went +across once, they'd have the ships pulled back in and we'd get most of +them."</p> + +<p>"We'll try it," the general said. "Wilson, you will have charge of the +flight."</p> + +<p>"It will be tough going. We lost Jones today and O'Malley and I were +just lucky. We both had our ships shot up badly."</p> + +<p>"Chances we have to take," Colonel Holt said gravely. "Are you sure +Jones was killed?"</p> + +<p>"I saw his ship hit by what looked like a rocket shell," Stan said. "I +went into the smoke and did not see it until I flew over it on the +ground."</p> + +<p>Silence followed this remark. Finally the colonel spoke. "We'll report +him missing in action and hope for the best."</p> + +<p>"Sure, an' I'm thinkin' the Jerries were plenty mad," O'Malley said +grimly.</p> + +<p>"The thing to do is to check with bomber operations and locate the spots +where they run into the most fighters. Then scout those areas with +low-level flights. When we locate a set of runways near a hill, we'll +check. After the data is in we'll try Lieutenant Wilson's skip-bombing +tactics. But we want to make a clean-up, for once we let them know how +we do it they'll rig up a defense." The general rose to his feet. "I'll +let you know, Colonel, what plans my office makes."</p> + +<p>"You have pictures of the hangars?" the major asked eagerly.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid I forgot all about your cameras when I came in over the +runway," Stan replied. "I was really looking for Sim and O'Malley."</p> + +<p>"You fighter pilots always forget the cameras," the major said sourly. +"Well, we'll check what you did get."</p> + +<p>"'Tis about time to be eatin'," O'Malley put in anxiously.</p> + +<p>"In that case, Colonel, we'll run along," Stan said with a grin.</p> + +<p>Colonel Holt looked at O'Malley sternly. "Food is a secondary matter +right now, but you may go."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, sor," O'Malley said. "It's very important to me."</p> + +<p>The colonel looked at O'Malley's lank and bony frame and smiled. He +turned back to his desk, and Stan and O'Malley hurried away.</p> + +<p>"I thought you had to have water to do this here skip-bombing," +O'Malley said when they were outside.</p> + +<p>"It can be done on land, too. Our boys can rig a delayed fuse and we can +roll the eggs right back into the nests," Stan explained.</p> + +<p>"We'll have fun," O'Malley chuckled. "In no time at all we'll be over +Berlin."</p> + +<p>During the next week, scouting flights from the Eighth Air Force field +and from other fields near by were made on a pattern. Long-range P-51's +and swift Mosquito bombers went out. They searched a wide band of enemy +territory and made many photographs. Every landing strip, even though it +appeared to be only an emergency runway, was checked and photographed. +Then the boys were called in. The fields had been spotted and their +underground hangars located. It was time to strike.</p> + +<p>Stan and O'Malley sat in the operations room looking at a big map. +Colonel Holt stood before the map with his staff. The men leaned forward +eagerly. For several days they had been practicing a new type of +bombing with fighters, a skip method. The colonel pointed to the map.</p> + +<p>"There are many flights going out at daylight. Ours is just one of them, +but we have been assigned to destroy the largest of the fighter bases +near Berlin. You all know the tactics. There will be thirty planes in +your flight. This is a teamwork job." He paused and looked over the +eager faces before him.</p> + +<p>The men began to breathe easier as the colonel went on. They knew what +they were up against. There would be a long flight during which they +would avoid fights in the air. Then there would be a sudden attack to be +staged just at dawn. That attack would be rugged going and a lot of them +would never come back.</p> + +<p>When the briefing was over, they crowded out of the room and into the +mess for hot coffee and sandwiches. There was little talking. This was +the hour of tension. Weather still had to come through with reports and +the men had learned that Weather often let them down. Being let down +after getting keyed up for a dangerous mission was worse than going +out.</p> + +<p>But Weather did not let them down. They got their clearance without +delay and headed for the ready room. Eagerly they scrambled into their +outfits, then barged out into the night. Stan and O'Malley walked side +by side.</p> + +<p>"We fly the tail slot," Stan said. "That means some hot going."</p> + +<p>"'Tis as good as any," O'Malley answered as he headed for his plane. +"See you at breakfast."</p> + +<p>Like huge night birds the P-51's took off and headed east. Stan watched +the flare of their exhausts as they flamed down the runways and lifted +into the dark sky.</p> + +<p>"O'Malley ready, Wilson stand by."</p> + +<p>Stan adjusted himself and checked his instruments. He eased down against +the shock pad and waited. O'Malley went knifing away and he wheeled in +behind. Hoiking the P-51's tail he sent her off and up.</p> + +<p>Quickly the big fighters, each with a bomb load tucked in where +ordinarily extra tanks would nestle, closed into formation. The flight +leader, Colonel Wellman held them in tight formation.</p> + +<p>As they roared along Stan thought back over the past few days. He had +been offered the flight leader's job but had turned it down. When +Wellman got back he would be ranked up a notch and shoved into a job +where he could fly only occasionally. Already his record and his rating +kept him at base most of the time. Stan grinned. He did not want +anything out of the war but a chance to fly in action.</p> + +<p>They moved across the channel, high up in the cold sky. Roaring toward +Berlin in arrow-straight flight, they slid over the Netherlands. There +were to be no roundabout evasive tactics tonight, not with bombs in the +place of extra gasoline.</p> + +<p>Stan checked his instrument panel and his clocks. They must be over +Germany now. The country below was blacked-out entirely. There was no +flak and no lights below. Darkness still filled the world, but dawn was +not far away.</p> + +<p>A buzzer signal in his headset told Stan it was time to settle down for +low flying. Light had begun to show in the east. Down went the Mustangs, +and as the dawn began to lighten the low country below, they roared +across the German countryside. Now they were greeted by a few bursts of +fire, but no heavy flak came at them. Because they were hedge-hopping at +a terrific speed, the German warning systems were not spotting them in +time to allow gunners to get set.</p> + +<p>"Tactical formation, Red Flight." Colonel Wellman broke the silence with +that crisp order.</p> + +<p>The Mustangs spread out and made a circling sweep. They had been headed +straight for Berlin and would be spotted as a nuisance raid group of +Mosquito bombers. No fighters would try to intercept them. The Berlin +defenders would depend upon flak, as fighters were useless against the +fast Mosquitoes. By swinging sharply east the Mustangs would hit the +fighter hangars.</p> + +<p>The light was good as the boys roared along at treetop level and spotted +the landmarks they had been briefed to expect. They flew in perfect +formation. Stan was flying the tail slot along with O'Malley. They were +in a mopping-up position.</p> + +<p>Stan saw the runways flash into sight, then he saw the lead Mustangs go +in with their wheels almost touching the runways. A second later there +were many flashes of flame and rolling clouds of dust. At the same +moment the earth began to erupt fire and smoke and steel. The second +wave of Mustangs disappeared into the inferno. Stan saw two of them blow +up, then go bouncing and tumbling along the ground. That was all he had +time to see. With his hand on the bomb release he went in.</p> + +<p>The smoke and the firing was so intense Stan could make out little. He +judged his distance and released his bombs when he caught a glimpse of a +yawning tunnel ahead. He saw O'Malley cut his load loose. O'Malley was +wing to wing with him. Then the Irishman's Mustang stuck her nose into +the ground and went end over end down the field like a wrecked kite. +Stan pulled up hard and as his P-51 lifted, he felt something hit her. +It was as though he had slammed into a stone wall. She staggered, let +down one wing, then nosed over. Stan felt the ground slap her and heard +the ripping and tearing of metal as something exploded almost in his +face. A blinding flash of light stabbed at his eyeballs and blinded him.</p> + +<p>The Mustang rolled over and over, her sturdy fuselage refusing to +crumple. Stan's one thought was of fire. He pawed aside what was left of +his hatch cover and heaved himself upward and out. Staggering free of +the wreckage, he found himself enveloped in a choking pall of smoke. Off +to his left, a heavy explosion shook the ground. Dirt and sticks and +bits of metal peppered him and the smoke surged away before the +concussion of the explosion. Stan staggered back and as he did so, four +soldiers leaped at him out of the smoke.</p> + +<p>One of the men lunged at Stan from the side and two from the rear. He +felt a solid impact on the back of his head and felt himself slumping +forward, then everything went black.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<h3>PRISONER</h3> + + +<p>Stan opened his eyes and found himself in a big room with stone walls +and high windows. Sun was streaming in through two of the windows and +gleamed upon piles of straw littering the floor. A dozen Yank airmen and +several R.A.F. men sat on the straw. Stan lifted his hand to the back of +his head and groaned. An R.A.F. man near him said:</p> + +<p>"A bit of a tough rap? Can I get you some water? It's all we've seen so +far in the way of refreshments."</p> + +<p>"Thanks," Stan said. "But where am I?"</p> + +<p>"A Jerry prison. I take it you were one of the boys who bombed the +fighter fields. I'm Captain Prentiss." The Britisher smiled.</p> + +<p>"I'm Stan Wilson. I'm not sure I bombed anything. Is there an Irishman +here by the name of O'Malley?"</p> + +<p>"Right-o. He was dragged in with you." Prentiss got to his feet. "I'll +go tell him you're awake."</p> + +<p>"Thanks." Stan heaved himself to a sitting position and looked around. +Several of the boys nodded to him but none of them got up. All of them +were strangers to Stan, men from flights he had not worked with.</p> + +<p>O'Malley came in from a narrow hallway and hurried across the room. When +he saw that Stan was sitting up, a dark scowl on his face turned into a +grin.</p> + +<p>"Sure, an' I've been yellin' at them Krauts, tryin' to get them to send +a Doc in to fix you up. They jest laughed at me."</p> + +<p>"I don't need a doctor. How did the raid go?"</p> + +<p>"The boys say we blew 'em off the map. I talked with a couple of Lib +boys just brought in. We cleared the path to Berlin." O'Malley grinned +eagerly. "I'm glad ye're feelin' foine now. We have to get out o' this +hole."</p> + +<p>Stan looked up at the high, barred windows. "Yes, we do," he said, more +to encourage O'Malley than because he had any hopes. They were deep in +the heart of Germany and soon would be in a closely guarded prison camp.</p> + +<p>"They're takin' us to another prison in a few minutes. The guard says we +get to eat before we're locked up again. We have to be questioned by the +Gestapo." O'Malley leered angrily.</p> + +<p>"You mean German Intelligence," Stan corrected.</p> + +<p>"All the same. Himmler runs 'em both," O'Malley answered.</p> + +<p>They were interrupted by a shout from the hallway. A burly German +officer stamped into the room and stood looking at the men.</p> + +<p>"Get to your feet!" he yelled.</p> + +<p>The men slowly rose and stared at the officer. He glared at them, his +eyes moving over them slowly.</p> + +<p>"You should be treated as swine, you bomb cities and kill +non-combatants. Der Fuehrer does not like this," he snarled.</p> + +<p>"We are only following the example you set at Warsaw and Rotterdam," a +British major said as he stepped over and faced the German. "We are +prisoners of war and you'll treat us as such, my fine fellow."</p> + +<p>Stan moved forward quickly. The R.A.F. major stood with his feet planted +well apart, facing the German. The German lashed out suddenly with a +knotted fist. The major swayed a bit and ducked the blow. He started a +right cross for the German's jaw but Stan dived in and pinned his arms.</p> + +<p>"Swine! Dog!" the German bellowed. "You will pay for this."</p> + +<p>"Take it easy. Knocking his block off won't help you any," Stan said as +he released the major's arms. "There ought to be better ways."</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry," the major said stiffly.</p> + +<p>The German glared around him. He puffed out his chest and struck a stiff +pose.</p> + +<p>"You are to be moved to other quarters. Anyone trying any sneaking +business will be shot. Is dot clear?"</p> + +<p>"It's clear. Get on with the moving," Stan said crisply.</p> + +<p>"You better be after feedin' us," O'Malley broke in.</p> + +<p>The officer blew a whistle and a squad of soldiers filed in. The men +lined up and the officer began splitting the prisoners up into small +groups. He sent six men away with the guards and whistled for another +squad.</p> + +<p>"They must think we're tough," Stan said and grinned.</p> + +<p>Before Stan and O'Malley were sent out, a young lieutenant entered and +spoke to the officer in charge. He faced the remaining men.</p> + +<p>"Lieutenants Wilson and O'Malley are wanted at once for questioning." He +glared about him.</p> + +<p>Stan and O'Malley stepped forward.</p> + +<p>"Come with me," the young lieutenant snapped.</p> + +<p>"What? No squad with fixed bayonets?" Stan asked and grinned.</p> + +<p>The lieutenant smiled. "Where we are going there will be no need for an +armed guard." He walked away with Stan and O'Malley beside him. O'Malley +kept a sharp eye open for a chance to escape. Stan was afraid if they +passed an open door O'Malley would bolt through it.</p> + +<p>They entered a long hallway and were marched to its far end where they +entered a small room. There was a table and a few chairs.</p> + +<p>"You may as well sit down," the lieutenant said.</p> + +<p>"You almost talk United States," Stan observed.</p> + +<p>"I should. I spent ten years in Pittsburgh," the lieutenant explained.</p> + +<p>"How did you come to get over here in Germany?" Stan asked.</p> + +<p>"During those years I was working for the greater Germany," the officer +answered stiffly. "Heil Hitler." He did an about-face as precisely as +though he had been on parade before Hitler and marched out of the room.</p> + +<p>"Don't tell them anything," Stan said.</p> + +<p>"Sure, an' the Gestapo has my life history written down anyway," +O'Malley said. "I think we're in Berlin and I'd be after likin' it if I +could get loose."</p> + +<p>"We'll be watched very close at first. We'll have to wait," Stan warned.</p> + +<p>Two officers, a major and a colonel, accompanied by the young +lieutenant, entered. The ranking officers seated themselves at the +table; the lieutenant stood before Stan and O'Malley.</p> + +<p>"You are a part of the Eighth Air Force?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes," Stan answered.</p> + +<p>"Do you know how many fighters and bombers your force has?"</p> + +<p>"No," Stan answered.</p> + +<p>"How many of the new type of fighters do you have? The sort you were +flying when shot down."</p> + +<p>"I've heard some of the boys say a couple of thousand," Stan answered. +He was merely reporting a bit of mess rumor he had heard the day before.</p> + +<p>The lieutenant scowled and spoke in German to his superiors. After that +the questions came fast, but neither O'Malley nor Stan offered any +further comment. They answered simply yes or no or refused to answer at +all. Finally the senior officer got up in disgust and stamped out.</p> + +<p>"You are fools," the lieutenant snapped.</p> + +<p>"Would you talk if we caught you?" Stan asked pleasantly.</p> + +<p>"Of course not, but we are a superior race. Now you will be given +comfortable quarters and food. We observe the rules of war." He turned +about and motioned for them to follow.</p> + +<p>The boys were fed soup and fish with a slice of bread and a brown liquid +which passed as coffee. O'Malley grumbled a lot, but he ate everything +set before him.</p> + +<p>"If this is what the Geneva treaty said captured officers were to eat, +I'm a spalpeen," O'Malley muttered as he marched away with Stan to their +quarters.</p> + +<p>They found themselves quartered in an old stone house which had at one +time been a residence. There was a high wall around it with many guards +pacing back and forth and two searchlights located on platforms which +were also occupied by a machine gun and its crew. But there was a yard +and a few trees and shrubs.</p> + +<p>"Not as bad as a prison camp," Stan said.</p> + +<p>"Not very good," O'Malley said as he stood looking up at one of the +machine-gun nests.</p> + +<p>The boys were taken to a room on the ground floor where they met several +other fellows from the Eighth. They had been located at the camp for +several months and were eager to hear news from England.</p> + +<p>Stan and O'Malley talked with them for a while, answering their +questions. One of the boys, a bombardier from a Fort, explained the +workings of the camp.</p> + +<p>"They change us around quite a bit. New men come and some of the old +heads go. I figure they do that to nip any escape attempts in the bud." +He laughed sourly. "I never heard of anybody getting away from one of +these camps."</p> + +<p>Another chap drifted in and seated himself. He was a lank Britisher with +a mop of black hair.</p> + +<p>"I hear you hail from the fighter strip near Diss."</p> + +<p>"That was our outfit," Stan said.</p> + +<p>"I just got a new roommate who says he's a Yank who was stationed at +Diss," the Britisher grinned. "He got shot down a while back. He just +came out of a hospital. Got a bad rap on the head."</p> + +<p>"We'd like to meet him. He must be one of the boys we lost on our first +bombing coverage." Stan got to his feet.</p> + +<p>He and O'Malley went upstairs and into the little room. Two men were +seated on a bed playing cards. Stan halted in the doorway. Over his +shoulder, O'Malley said:</p> + +<p>"Sim!"</p> + +<p>At first Stan was not sure. The man looked like Sim Jones. He was +thinner and he had a freshly healed scar on his cheek. His face was +sallow and he looked much older.</p> + +<p>O'Malley barged past Stan and caught the man's hand. "Glad ye're alive," +he said eagerly.</p> + +<p>"O'Malley?" Sim stared at O'Malley as he said it. He looked up at Stan. +"Wilson, you here, too."</p> + +<p>Stan grinned. "Yes, I'm here. We cracked up on a fighter strip while +bombing with Mustangs. I'm glad you made it safely. When I last saw +you, your P-51 had buried its nose in the ground."</p> + +<p>Sim's eyes narrowed sharply. "That crack-up knocked me silly," he said +grimly. "I don't remember much." He put his hand to his head. "I was +nuts for quite a while, I guess. Even now I forget things. Sometimes I +forget what's happened."</p> + +<p>"You'll come around," O'Malley said cheerfully.</p> + +<p>"They might let us three have this room together," Sim said. "I'd like +to have you fellows around."</p> + +<p>"It could be fixed," the Britisher said. "They let us line up about as +we wish. I'll help you fix it. I've been here a couple of months."</p> + +<p>Stan went with the R.A.F. man. They located a non-com who told them to +shift around as they pleased. He seemed to know who Stan was and all +about him and O'Malley.</p> + +<p>"Ve treat you goot," he said.</p> + +<p>As they went back the Britisher said, "Some of these Nazis are beginning +to try to make friends with us. I guess they figure they may need some +friends among the Allies one of these days."</p> + +<p>"They certainly will," Stan agreed.</p> + +<p>The two boys with Sim gladly moved out and Stan and O'Malley moved in. +They found Sim silent and moody, as though he was brooding over his +capture and captivity. Stan spoke to O'Malley about it out in the hall.</p> + +<p>"Sim is in bad shape. He ought to be in the hospital. We'll have to +watch out for him."</p> + +<p>"He'll be after comin' around," O'Malley said confidently.</p> + +<p>They entered the room and found Sim staring out of a window. Again Stan +was struck by the change in the boy. He seemed to have aged at least ten +years. He turned toward them, then got up and closed the door. He walked +over to a picture on the wall and moved it. Behind it he revealed a +small hole in the paper. He placed his hands to his lips and shook his +head.</p> + +<p>Stan moved over and looked closely, then he pressed on the paper. There +was a small cylinder under the paper. He grinned at Sim and O'Malley. +Deftly he slit the paper with his fingernail and removed a strip of it, +revealing a listening device. Taking out his pocketknife he neatly +snipped one of the small wires.</p> + +<p>"That will take care of that. Later we'll hook it up again so they won't +be suspicious."</p> + +<p>"They listen to all new men everywhere," Sim said. Suddenly he began to +laugh. "But I have fooled them. I have worked out a way for us to +escape."</p> + +<p>Stan stared at him. He was not sure Sim was not still insane.</p> + +<p>O'Malley said eagerly, "Spill it. Escape is what I'm lookin' for."</p> + +<p>Sim went to the door and opened it. He looked up and down the hall, then +closed the door.</p> + +<p>"I was going to try it alone, but I may be able to take you fellows +along." He spoke slowly.</p> + +<p>"Sure, three can make a getaway easier than one," O'Malley said. Stan +said nothing.</p> + +<p>"Germany is cracking up fast," Sim went on. "Rotten inside with half of +the guards scared they'll be stood up against a wall and shot when the +invasion comes."</p> + +<p>"They didn't seem to be slipping much where we landed," Stan said.</p> + +<p>"But they are," Sim insisted. "I have a man fixed to take me out of here +and across Germany. I'm to get him out of the country and guarantee +he'll be safely kept over in England."</p> + +<p>"Swell," O'Malley put in. "When do we get going?"</p> + +<p>"It will take a day or so. He's no small fry either, he's a +non-commissioned officer with some authority. He thinks the Gestapo is +about to pick him off for not being tough enough."</p> + +<p>"It sounds a bit too easy to me," Stan said. "But I'd take any sort of +chance to get back into action."</p> + +<p>"Tomorrow I'll let you know if you can go along," Sim promised. "Now you +better hook that listening gadget up again."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<h3>ESCAPE</h3> + + +<p>When Stan awoke the next morning Sim was gone from his bunk. He sat up +quickly, then lay back and let his stiff, sore muscles relax. There was +no hurry. He was not going any place that day, perhaps not for a long +time. Lying there he listened to O'Malley's deep snores and thought back +over the events of the past few hours.</p> + +<p>Those events had happened so swiftly and so explosively that they seemed +like the shadowy memory of a nightmare. He recalled that he had not +asked O'Malley how he had been captured. He had just taken it for +granted his pal had been through an experience the same as his own. It +was odd, too, the way things fitted together. The oddest of all was +finding Sim Jones billeted in the same prison.</p> + +<p>A knock sounded upon the door. "Come in," Stan called.</p> + +<p>O'Malley sat up in bed suddenly, pawing the blankets away from his +shoulders. He stared around the room, then scowled. The door opened and +a Nazi corporal entered.</p> + +<p>"Heil Hitler!" he said very loudly and clicked his heels together.</p> + +<p>"Good morning," Stan greeted.</p> + +<p>O'Malley just glared at the corporal.</p> + +<p>"I am Hans." The Nazi looked behind him, sticking his head out so that +he could see up and down the hall. He closed the door. "It is orders of +Herr General that prisoners be up and taking exercises by seven each +morning. I have let you sleep because you were very tired."</p> + +<p>"That was nice of you," Stan said.</p> + +<p>"I am goot to prisoners," Hans said.</p> + +<p>Stan swung his feet to the floor. He got out of bed and walked across +the room. Flipping a picture of Hitler aside, he exposed the microphone +in the wall. Hans rolled his eyes and clicked his heels.</p> + +<p>"Heil Hitler!" he almost shouted. "Tomorrow you will get out of bed and +be down in the yard by seven."</p> + +<p>Stan grinned. He reached up and disconnected the wire leading to the +instrument.</p> + +<p>"They listen all the time," Hans said. "They watch everyone. There is +more Gestapo than guards."</p> + +<p>"Nice country to live in," Stan remarked.</p> + +<p>O'Malley laughed and pulled the blankets up around his chin.</p> + +<p>"Sure, an' it needs a bit o' cleaning up," he said.</p> + +<p>Hans looked at him nervously. "You think the British and Americans come +soon?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"If they're later than next week, I'll be after speakin' to a few +generals harsh-like," O'Malley answered.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps not next week but soon," Stan said.</p> + +<p>"I am not a party member. I will go back to my little farm near Pilsen," +Hans said, "if it is permitted."</p> + +<p>"It could be fixed that way," Stan said and smiled. "Silence is golden, +but too much of it might make the Gestapo boys suspicious." He walked +to the picture of Hitler and connected the microphone again.</p> + +<p>"You will report at once for mess. Heil Hitler!" Hans clicked his heels +and did an about-face. He moved out of the room almost goose-stepping. +Stan grinned after him.</p> + +<p>"Get up, you bum," he called to O'Malley.</p> + +<p>O'Malley got out of bed and began dressing. Within ten minutes they were +in the hall. As they walked down it they passed no less than three +pictures of Hitler hanging on the walls. O'Malley moved every one of +them and peered behind it.</p> + +<p>"I don't like the scenery here," he grumbled.</p> + +<p>The mess was a large room which once had been a living room and dining +room combined. There were twenty prisoners, mostly R.A.F. men, all of +officer's rank. They looked bored and listless, but they greeted the new +arrivals with friendly interest. Sim was seated at the table. He looked +up and nodded.</p> + +<p>Breakfast was not bad and the boys ate everything set before them. After +breakfast the men went out into the yard. The sun was shining and the +air was warm, but there was a feel of winter in the wind which blew over +the high wall.</p> + +<p>Stan and O'Malley sat down on a bench with Sim. The other men busied +themselves with handball and quoits. Sim bent down and traced a line +with a stick in the dirt.</p> + +<p>"I have everything lined up. We get away tonight. A British colonel is +giving a lecture in the big room at nine tonight. I have fixed the +checker. We'll get away while that is on." Sim did not look up.</p> + +<p>"Hans is the checker?" O'Malley asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Sure this isn't a trap? Things have been working too good around here," +Stan said.</p> + +<p>"This will not be easy," Sim answered in a low voice. "The chances are +about even we'll be shot before we get clear of the wire and the guard +lines. These guards do not shout at you, they shoot and then yell." Sim +laughed shortly. "But I'd rather be shot than rot here."</p> + +<p>"Sure, an' that's me, too," O'Malley agreed.</p> + +<p>"We'll be ready," Stan answered.</p> + +<p>"You cannot take anything with you," Sim warned. "Now we have to break +up. The guards are watching us." He got to his feet and walked away.</p> + +<p>"I think he's acting nuts for the benefit of the guards," O'Malley said.</p> + +<p>"If it turns out he really is nuts, we may find ourselves messed up with +lead," Stan answered. He got up and walked over to where the R.A.F. boys +were pitching quoits.</p> + +<p>"Care to get in?" a captain asked him.</p> + +<p>"Thanks, I'll have a try," Stan answered.</p> + +<p>O'Malley stretched out on the bench and went to sleep. He slept through +until lunch call was sounded. Stan mixed with the British officers and +learned what he could about conditions. He got their names so he could +report regarding them if he did get away.</p> + +<p>The afternoon dragged away and mess call sounded after one of the R.A.F. +officers had put the men through a stiff drill and a series of +sitting-up exercises. After mess Stan and O'Malley went to their room. +Sim was not there.</p> + +<p>"I didn't see Sim around the mess when we left, wonder where he went?" +Stan whispered.</p> + +<p>"You worry too much about him," O'Malley answered. "I bet he's snoopin' +around gettin' set to get us away."</p> + +<p>Stan stretched out on his bunk. They waited for Sim to show up, but he +did not come to the room. At eight o'clock Stan began to squirm.</p> + +<p>"They've probably nabbed him," he said sourly.</p> + +<p>"Sure, an' I'll start working on Hans if they have."</p> + +<p>They had been speaking in very low tones. Now Stan spoke louder. "Better +be getting ready to go to that lecture."</p> + +<p>"Sure," O'Malley agreed.</p> + +<p>The boys settled down to wait. O'Malley kept looking at his wrist watch. +Stan lay with his eyes closed. He was checking every angle of the +strange business. As near as he could gather, things were going badly in +Germany. The big crack-up might be near at hand.</p> + +<p>At five minutes to nine they heard steps in the hall. They passed down +the stairs. Boys from the rooms along the hallway were going to the +lecture. Stan got up and disconnected the microphone. O'Malley was +pacing about like a caged lion. They heard single footsteps and there +was a rap on the door. It opened and Hans stood there.</p> + +<p>"I am glad you have not yet gone to the lecture," he said. "Herr General +wishes to speak to you. You will come with me."</p> + +<p>Stan looked at O'Malley and O'Malley looked at Stan. Stan spoke +smoothly.</p> + +<p>"Couldn't we see the general after the lecture? We'd like very much to +hear the colonel."</p> + +<p>"It will not wait. Herr General is a very impatient man."</p> + +<p>There was nothing to do but go with Hans. Stan and O'Malley walked along +the hallway with the corporal, keeping a sharp watch for Sim. They did +not see him in the hallway or downstairs. Hans took them past the guards +at the outer garden gate and across the street to another house. In a +small hall room he nodded toward chairs.</p> + +<p>"You will be called," he said, then turned and hurried away.</p> + +<p>The outer door was open and the boys could see two sentries standing on +the front porch.</p> + +<p>"We have to get out o' here," O'Malley said.</p> + +<p>"Not a chance. There's no window and those two guards would see us +before we got within ten feet of them," Stan answered. "It's just a case +of sitting tight and hoping Sim waits for us."</p> + +<p>Near where they were sitting a door opened into another room. Stan +leaned over and looked at the door. It was not latched firmly and was +open about a half inch. He could hear men talking in the other room. +They were speaking in German.</p> + +<p>"You understand German. Listen to what they are saying," Stan whispered.</p> + +<p>O'Malley moved closer and listened. The men seemed to be arguing hotly. +Every once in a while one voice would be raised in anger. There were +three men in the room. O'Malley edged the door open a bit more and +peeped into the room.</p> + +<p>After a bit he straightened and grinned at Stan. "Sure, an' the general +is eatin' the tails off his staff. Some of 'em seem to think the war is +lost. They been tellin' him the German people are demandin' peace at any +price. I figure he's goin' to have one o' them shot."</p> + +<p>At that moment an orderly came rushing out of the office. He charged +past the boys without seeming to see them, and rushed out of the +building.</p> + +<p>"The general says if this leaks out, the Allies will invade at once. +He's sure mad." O'Malley laughed softly.</p> + +<p>A few minutes passed and the orderly returned with a squad of armed +soldiers led by a lieutenant. They stomped past the boys and into the +office. When they came out they were marching a captain and a major +before them.</p> + +<p>Five more minutes passed and the orderly came out. He seemed much +agitated.</p> + +<p>"You will come now," he said in husky English.</p> + +<p>The boys followed him into the office. Herr General was a burly fellow +with a bald head and a narrow chest. He had a monocle screwed into one +eye which made him look fierce and tough. He glared at the boys, then +snapped an order to the orderly. The man scurried away.</p> + +<p>"Come up to my desk, you," the general snarled.</p> + +<p>The boys moved up and stood waiting.</p> + +<p>"I have checked the answers you gave to questions asked you when you +were captured. You said an invasion will come at once. Why did you say +that?"</p> + +<p>Stan stared at the officer. "We didn't say any such thing," he answered +evenly. He decided that the general had heard some of their conversation +over the listening device.</p> + +<p>"Sure, an' you got big ears, General," O'Malley said.</p> + +<p>Stan kicked him on the shin. The general jumped and puffed out his +chest. He fixed O'Malley with a cold glare.</p> + +<p>"Pig! Fool! Keep a civil tongue in your head or you will regret it +much."</p> + +<p>"If you brought us here to get information, you will be disappointed, +General," Stan said. "We will not talk."</p> + +<p>"I brought you here to tell you that we intend to make you talk," the +general barked. "I merely wished to warn you and then to let you have a +little time to think it over."</p> + +<p>"We are prisoners of war," Stan reminded him.</p> + +<p>"The code provides for disciplining prisoners of war. We have some very +effective methods. You will talk and be glad to. Now get out."</p> + +<p>Stan and O'Malley turned toward the door. Two armed men stood waiting +for them. They marched out with the guards close behind them.</p> + +<p>"Sure, an' this is a nice mess," O'Malley grumbled.</p> + +<p>"Could be worse," Stan said.</p> + +<p>The guards left them after passing them into the yard of their house. +They headed for their room. Passing through the outer hall, they saw +that the lecture was still going on in the living room. They went up the +stairs.</p> + +<p>Stan opened the door and O'Malley shoved into the room close behind him. +They stood looking at Sim's bunk. The straw ticking of the mattress had +been slit open and some of the straw was scattered on the floor. Sim was +not in the room. Stan walked over to a little table. One small light +bulb was flooding the room with light.</p> + +<p>"He was here and left in a hurry. He didn't turn off the light."</p> + +<p>"I'm gettin' out o' here," O'Malley growled.</p> + +<p>"Sit down. We're staying," Stan said sharply. He pulled off his coat and +tossed it across his bunk, then he seated himself on the foot of his +bed.</p> + +<p>"We're going to get it in the neck, anyway," O'Malley scowled.</p> + +<p>"Do you know where we are, in what part of Germany?"</p> + +<p>"Somewhere near Berlin," O'Malley said.</p> + +<p>"Sure, but where? We need more dope on the grounds and on the country +around us. We wouldn't get a mile from this prison farm if we did break +out."</p> + +<p>O'Malley sat down on his bed. "Sure, you're right. We should have had +Sim tell us something about this deal."</p> + +<p>"Now that you mention it, Sim never told us anything," Stan said.</p> + +<p>"Probably didn't know anything," O'Malley growled.</p> + +<p>They sat looking at each other, waiting, trying to discover some lead +that might help them. Finally Stan said:</p> + +<p>"We'll have to clean up that straw and fix Sim's bed before anyone comes +in here snooping around."</p> + +<p>"Yeah," O'Malley said but he did not move.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<h3>FLIGHT</h3> + + +<p>Stan began cleaning up their room so that the guards checking rooms that +night would not notice Sim had gone. He wanted to give Sim as much of a +start as possible. While he was brushing the straw under Sim's bunk the +door opened. Both boys turned quickly. In the doorway stood Sim. His +lips were parted in a thin smile.</p> + +<p>"Sim!" Stan took a step toward the door. "We thought you had gone."</p> + +<p>"Quiet," Sim whispered. "Come with me."</p> + +<p>He turned and moved out into the hall with Stan and O'Malley at his +heels. They walked down the hall and into a corner room. Sim crossed the +room and opened a window. They saw a rope dangling over the sill.</p> + +<p>Stan peered into the darkness below but could see nothing. "There +should be a guard right under this window," he whispered.</p> + +<p>"He has been taken care of," Sim hissed. "You go down. We will follow."</p> + +<p>"Didn't you get any guns or grenades?" O'Malley asked.</p> + +<p>"No," Sim answered sharply. "Hurry."</p> + +<p>Stan climbed through the window and slid down the rope. When his feet +hit the ground he wiggled the rope. A minute later O'Malley was at his +side. Sim arrived within another minute. He caught the boys' arms and +began moving away from the house.</p> + +<p>Sim led them to the wall and along it until they came to a gate. It was +open; Sim paused and Stan and O'Malley peered out. A small light burned +above the gate. The light revealed a truck filled with cans. Stan +grinned in the darkness. The truck was a garbage lorry. The night breeze +carried that information to him. The truck smelled very strong.</p> + +<p>"We hide among the cans," Sim whispered.</p> + +<p>At that moment two men appeared carrying a can. They heaved it into the +truck. One of them fastened a chain across the back opening, then they +moved toward the cab of the truck.</p> + +<p>"When the light is snapped off!" Sim whispered.</p> + +<p>From the kitchen of the house a voice shouted something in German. The +truck driver answered. The light snapped off and Sim started forward +with the boys beside him. The truck was sputtering and backfiring, +pouring out rank smoke as they reached it. They went into it as it +lurched forward. All of the cans came clanging back against the chain, +almost shoving the boys out.</p> + +<p>Quickly the three moved cans until they were up in the front of the +truck next to the cab. There they crouched down with their knees pulled +up. The cans made so much noise there was no danger of the boys being +heard.</p> + +<p>"'Tis a sweet smellin' cab ye called," O'Malley observed.</p> + +<p>"The smell will keep the Germans from examining it very closely," Sim +answered and Stan heard him chuckle. "When we come to a lighted town +we'll each have to get into a can."</p> + +<p>"They're full o' garbage," O'Malley protested.</p> + +<p>"We'll empty three cans," Sim said. "Might as well do it while we're on +this rough country road."</p> + +<p>The truck was bouncing and the cans were banging. The noise was terrific +and the darkness total. Stan got hold of a can. It was heavy, but with +O'Malley's help he was able to lift it up and tip it over the edge. The +contents poured out on the side of the road. Two more cans were dumped.</p> + +<p>"There goes a lot of meals for the prisoners in the ghetto," Sim said +and laughed.</p> + +<p>"You mean to say the skunks feed prisoners garbage?" Stan asked.</p> + +<p>"I've been told they let the prisoners of the lowest class pick over the +garbage," Sim answered.</p> + +<p>Stan felt his stomach begin to turn over. O'Malley said nothing. For +once he was stumped for words. They moved the cans to the center and +well forward and crouched beside them.</p> + +<p>The truck rattled on through the night. Presently they saw lights ahead.</p> + +<p>"According to my map," Sim said, "that should be a well-lighted +inspection post. We better get into the cans."</p> + +<p>The boys got into the cans. Stan kept his head well up out of the can. +He meant to keep it up in the wind until it was absolutely necessary to +duck down.</p> + +<p>The truck swung in under a row of lights. Stan ducked down and held his +nose. There was much guttural shouting. Several men moved around the +truck. They poked bayonets among the cans and against them. Stan felt a +blade strike the can he was in. The can gave out a dull clinking sound, +indicating it was full. Stan grinned. Someone shouted an order and the +truck rolled on.</p> + +<p>As soon as darkness closed over them the boys popped out of the cans. +O'Malley was talking to himself in very rich Irish.</p> + +<p>"If I'd known this was goin' to happen to me I'd have brought along a +blanket to wrap meself in," he growled. "We'll smell so bad we won't be +able to hide any place."</p> + +<p>Stan laughed. "They won't need blood-hounds to track us," he admitted.</p> + +<p>"We will get other clothing," Sim said.</p> + +<p>The truck rolled on, crossing a hill and dropping down toward a town. +Lights winked ahead of them and the road became smoother.</p> + +<p>"We unload pretty soon," Sim said. "There will be a small farmhouse on +the right with tall trees. We get off there. The farmer is a member of +the underground."</p> + +<p>"Underground in Germany?" Stan asked in surprise.</p> + +<p>"They told me it was well established and doing a big business. People +are paying well to get out of Germany before it collapses." Sim was +swinging a leg over the side as he spoke.</p> + +<p>The boys got out of the truck and clung to the outside. They saw dark +forms of trees and a light in a window.</p> + +<p>"Now," Sim whispered as he swung away from the truck.</p> + +<p>Stan heard him land with a thud. Stan jumped and landed in a hedge +beside the road and rolled on into tall grass. O'Malley hit close beside +him, and they crouched behind the hedge watching the truck. It went +rattling on into the night. Sim called to them.</p> + +<p>"Come on. We have to hurry."</p> + +<p>They moved over beside him and he headed across an open field toward the +lighted window. As they neared the house, a dog began barking. Sim +halted and they stood waiting. A door opened and a man shouted at the +dog. Sim moved forward.</p> + +<p>"Hello," he called.</p> + +<p>The door closed suddenly and Stan heard the man walking over gravel +toward them. They advanced to meet him. Sim spoke as soon as he was +close.</p> + +<p>"We were sent by Hans."</p> + +<p>"Goot. Come, I show you," the man answered.</p> + +<p>They walked with him to the house and he opened the door. "Quick," he +mumbled. He began pushing them through the door.</p> + +<p>There was no need to shove. The boys dived inside and the German closed +the door. He moved to a window and pulled down the blind, then he faced +them. He was a short man with a beefy face. His stomach rolled out over +a wide leather belt.</p> + +<p>"I get you clothes," he said gruffly.</p> + +<p>Disappearing into another room he returned after a time with an armload +of clothing which he tossed on a table. The boys changed into rough +shirts and dungarees. The clothing was coarse, but it was clean. The +German gathered up their uniforms.</p> + +<p>"These I burn," he said and left with them.</p> + +<p>"We have to move on at once," Sim said. "This place will be searched +before morning. The Germans are very thorough."</p> + +<p>The boys seated themselves and waited. Their host was gone for a long +time. Finally Sim got up.</p> + +<p>"I'll go hurry him along," he said. "You stay right here." He left the +room hurriedly.</p> + +<p>"Sim is no nut. He has this all worked out," O'Malley said.</p> + +<p>"He certainly has," Stan agreed. He got up and moved to the door Sim had +just closed. Opening it gently he went into a dark room. Feeling his way +he moved to another door. He could see a shaft of light under the door. +Halting with his hand on the knob, he listened. Sim was talking with +their underground agent in German. Stan opened the door quickly. The +two men whirled about and faced him.</p> + +<p>"I didn't know you spoke German," Stan said.</p> + +<p>"You should not be sneaking around," the German said sharply.</p> + +<p>"I have always spoken German," Sim answered. "I learned it in school +back home. How did you think I managed to line things up so well if I +didn't know German?"</p> + +<p>"We got worried," Stan said. "Thought something might have happened to +you."</p> + +<p>"I just wanted to make sure these uniforms were burned," Sim said and +laughed. "German farmers are thrifty people. They hate to burn good wool +cloth, which can't be bought for any price here. These people have only +ersatz cloth."</p> + +<p>"We go now," the German said and scowled at Stan.</p> + +<p>"Did he burn them?" Stan asked.</p> + +<p>"He buried them in his orchard. We don't have time to waste having him +dig them up," Sim answered.</p> + +<p>O'Malley had heard the talking and joined them in the kitchen.</p> + +<p>"Everybody's here, so let's go," Stan said. He was trying to remember +if Sim Jones had ever talked to him about his past. He could not +remember the flier ever having said much about himself.</p> + +<p>The German took the lead and they followed him out through a back door. +They walked down a path and came to a small barn. Stan heard a horse +snort. The German spoke softly to Sim in German.</p> + +<p>O'Malley answered the man in German. The fellow jumped and O'Malley +laughed. Too late Stan kicked O'Malley warningly upon the shin. Stan +frowned. He should have warned O'Malley. Now the man knew he could speak +and understand German. Sim looked at O'Malley and laughed.</p> + +<p>"It seems we will be able to get on very well with two of us speaking +the native tongue," he said.</p> + +<p>"You talk Kraut?" O'Malley asked.</p> + +<p>"Come, we waste time," the German said. He moved into the barn with the +boys at his heels.</p> + +<p>The guide untied a horse and led it out through a back door. There, by +the light of the stars, the boys saw a two-wheeled cart loaded with +hay. The German hitched the horse to the cart.</p> + +<p>"Hide in the hay," he said.</p> + +<p>The boys climbed into the cart and burrowed under the hay. Stan worked +his way well forward with O'Malley and Sim close beside him. They were +forced to lie very close together because the cart was narrow. They +worked an opening for air and lay on the hard boards. The German spoke +to the horse and the cart moved off.</p> + +<p>The cart joggled over rutty roads for hours. Daylight began to show +through the straw opening. Stan wiggled over against the slats on the +side of the cart and poked a hole to look through. They were moving +along a country lane. The cart turned out and a wagon passed. It was +loaded with farm workers. Behind the wagon came a motorcycle and +sidecar. A German soldier sat in the sidecar, while another, with a +rifle slung across his back, drove the motorcycle. The driver shouted at +the German on the seat of the cart, but he did not stop him.</p> + +<p>O'Malley began squirming. He was in the middle and could see nothing at +all.</p> + +<p>"Be still!" Sim snapped. "You'll shake hay loose and someone may become +suspicious."</p> + +<p>O'Malley lay still but he made Stan tell him what he saw. They passed +other wagons loaded with slave labor going to the fields, as well as +many farmers, both men and women, on the way to work.</p> + +<p>The German kept on driving and no one stopped him. Noon came and he +still kept on. The boys were getting hungry and thirsty, but the driver +did not halt. He pulled out a bag from under the seat and munched a +sausage sandwich, washing the food down with draughts from a brown jug. +O'Malley was able to see this.</p> + +<p>"Sure, an' I've a mind to reach up there an' grab that sandwich," he +said hungrily.</p> + +<p>"Better not," Stan warned.</p> + +<p>O'Malley held his appetite in check, but he kept on grumbling.</p> + +<p>"Stop watching him eat," Stan advised in a whisper.</p> + +<p>"Sure, an' I can't take me eyes off that sausage sandwich. 'Tis the most +appetizin' thing I iver seen," O'Malley said mournfully.</p> + +<p>The cart rattled through a village and moved on down another narrow +lane. Presently they came to a gate and the driver pulled up. Stan +ducked back.</p> + +<p>"German soldiers," he whispered warningly.</p> + +<p>The soldiers were shouting at the driver. He got down and began talking +to them excitedly.</p> + +<p>"They're looking for escaped prisoners," O'Malley whispered in Stan's +ear.</p> + +<p>Three burly soldiers walked over to the cart and began thrusting their +bayonets into the hay. Stan stiffened. If he was stabbed he meant to +make no outcry. He felt the cold steel move across his body a few inches +from his chest. It slipped back, then stabbed again. Stan was glad the +bed of the cart had a ten-inch high board around it.</p> + +<p>After more shouting and poking the driver got back on his seat and the +cart moved forward.</p> + +<p>"Boy," Stan muttered. "That was a close shave."</p> + +<p>"I got a small cut," Sim said.</p> + +<p>"And you didn't yell?" O'Malley spoke admiringly.</p> + +<p>"It would have been the end for us if I had yelled," Sim answered.</p> + +<p>The cart continued to jog along slowly. Long shadows fell across the +road and the cart passed many farmers returning from the fields.</p> + +<p>"I could eat a boiled dog," O'Malley grumbled.</p> + +<p>"We'll eat later," Sim assured him.</p> + +<p>Darkness settled slowly. The driver turned off the road into a narrower +lane as soon as it was dark.</p> + +<p>"No traveling is allowed after dark," Sim explained. "We must be near +our second station."</p> + +<p>The cart halted and the driver called to them.</p> + +<p>"Come out now."</p> + +<p>They climbed out and flexed stiff muscles. O'Malley faced the driver.</p> + +<p>"I'm hungry. Got any food?"</p> + +<p>"Come with me," the man said.</p> + +<p>They entered a grove of trees and walked up to a tiny house. The house +was dark but, with the aid of a flashlight, the guide located a trap +door under some loose straw. He pulled it upward, revealing a stairs. +The boys went down into a cellar where their guide lighted an oil lamp.</p> + +<p>The cellar smelled stale but it had boxes to sit on and a table. There +was a box on the table.</p> + +<p>"Your food," the German said, nodding toward the box.</p> + +<p>He turned away and went upstairs again. They heard him close the door +and rake straw over it. O'Malley opened the box at once. It contained a +loaf of heavy bread, a few pieces of cold sausage and three boiled +potatoes. Also there was a jug which contained milk.</p> + +<p>Sim produced a heavy clasp knife and cut the bread. The boys made +sandwiches and munched them. The jug was passed around and they drank +out of it.</p> + +<p>"Sure, an' this is not a bad dinner," O'Malley said. "It compares +favorably with the last roast duck dinner I had in London." He grinned +at Stan.</p> + +<p>After finishing their meal the boys sat waiting for their guide.</p> + +<p>"He has to care for his horse and dispose of the hay," Sim explained.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2> + +<h3>TRAPPED</h3> + + +<p>The boys left the cellar very soon after finishing their meal. Their +guide led them down a country lane. They hiked along steadily for +several hours, then detoured through a field, making a wide circle.</p> + +<p>"We have to go around the patrol stations on the road," Sim explained.</p> + +<p>"It's nice to have a guide who knows the way," Stan said.</p> + +<p>"I understand the patrol posts are cleverly hidden. Without a guide a +man walking down the lane would trip an alarm wire and be caught in no +time at all." Sim seemed to know all about the methods used by the Nazis +to trap anyone fleeing the country.</p> + +<p>They kept walking until midnight. Then they rested for a half-hour, +lying in a hedge beside the road. After midnight they moved more +slowly. Several times they dived into the fields along the road to avoid +patrols moving swiftly along the lane on motorcycles. Once they almost +ran into a bicycle patrol. The cyclists did not make any noise and were +upon the boys before they had time to duck. A leafy hedge saved them +from being sighted.</p> + +<p>"We will have to cross the Dutch border soon," Sim said after talking +with their guide.</p> + +<p>"There won't be much of a guard there, will there?" Stan asked. "The +Germans have made Holland a part of Germany."</p> + +<p>"There is a strict border control," the guide answered. "The Dutch are +just pigs and are kept in their pen."</p> + +<p>"That's what the Nazis say," Sim added.</p> + +<p>"Sure," the guide agreed. "The Nazis say that."</p> + +<p>"How are we to get through?" Stan asked. "You must have a method which +works."</p> + +<p>"Sure," the guide said. "But it has always been risky. We may be +separated. If we are separated, you will ask a Dutchman to take you to +76 Mamur in Arnhem. Do not speak to a Dutchman wearing a swastika. Ask +only of a farmer or other working person."</p> + +<p>"We all will meet there," Sim said. "After that, we will have no more +trouble. The Dutch will take care of us."</p> + +<p>"Now we go," the guide said.</p> + +<p>"At any rate, we know where we are," Stan said to O'Malley. "Arnhem +isn't so far from Rotterdam."</p> + +<p>"Sure, an' that just means nothin' to me. I'm stickin' with this here +guide," O'Malley answered.</p> + +<p>They moved along at a fast pace for some time. Finally the German called +a halt. There seemed to be quite a bit of activity ahead; besides, dawn +was not far away. They had spent most of the last hour ducking patrols +roaring up and down the lane.</p> + +<p>"We must move very carefully now. We will leave the road. Keep close to +me," the guide said in a low voice.</p> + +<p>The party moved off the road and through a hedge. Beyond the hedge they +found themselves in a plowed field. The ground was soft and damp. +Moving slowly now, because they sunk in to their boot tops, the boys +crossed the field and came to a canal. Stan could see murky water in the +ditch. He judged the canal was about fifteen feet wide.</p> + +<p>They followed the canal for some distance. Lights ahead caused the guide +to halt. Stan could see men on both sides of the canal. They were +silhouetted against the sky and were moving back and forth.</p> + +<p>"We must pass through the guard lines here," the guide whispered. "There +will be soldiers with rifles on each side of the canal. There is much +barbed wire and many electrical alarms along the border. We must take to +the canal."</p> + +<p>"Sure, and it looks cold, that water," O'Malley muttered.</p> + +<p>"We will keep close to the bank, two on each side. When we pass the +guards above we must crouch down in the water and stay against the bank. +We must go very slow. Waves or movement of the water will be noticed."</p> + +<p>"Lead on," Stan said grimly. "Let's get it over with."</p> + +<p>"Those on the far bank will wade across after we pass the border. We +will then go to Arnhem and hide there during the day." The German was +sliding down the bank into the water as he spoke.</p> + +<p>"O'Malley and I will cross over," Stan said. He wanted to keep O'Malley +with him.</p> + +<p>The water was icy and numbed their bodies almost at once. Stan and +O'Malley waded across the canal. The bottom was muddy and the water came +up to their necks. With chattering teeth they reached the far bank and +began moving along in the black shadows next to overhanging grass.</p> + +<p>Slowly the boys inched forward, being careful not to send ripples out +across the water. As they neared the sentry post the water was well +lighted from electric floodlights set on each bank. Stan halted and +flattened himself against the grass.</p> + +<p>A sentry was standing on each bank, his rifle butt resting on the +ground. Both were looking down at the canal intently. Stan pulled +O'Malley close to him.</p> + +<p>"We'll have to get down until just our heads stick out, then inch +forward," he whispered.</p> + +<p>"Inch away," O'Malley whispered back. His teeth rattled louder than his +words.</p> + +<p>Stan sank down into the water and they began moving slowly ahead. Inch +by inch they entered the lighted area and moved on. A water rat swam +past them in the middle of the canal. It left a wide ripple behind it, +and the sentries jerked up their guns. One of them laughed and picked up +a rock. He tossed it at the rat. The rat dived with a loud splash. Both +soldiers laughed loudly and one of them lighted a cigarette.</p> + +<p>Stan shoved ahead a bit faster. They moved directly under the sentries +and kept on going. Slowly they edged away down the stream. The light on +the water became dimmer and finally faded out.</p> + +<p>"How about crossin' over? I'm frozen stiff," O'Malley hissed between +chattering teeth.</p> + +<p>"O.K.," Stan answered. They moved out into the canal and waded across. +Climbing out on the bank, they sat shaking and shuddering.</p> + +<p>"Wonder where Sim is?" O'Malley asked.</p> + +<p>"We better wait here. They may not have moved as fast as we did." Stan +began rubbing his legs to warm them.</p> + +<p>They heard no sounds except those coming from the post on the bank of +the canal. Finally Stan moved.</p> + +<p>"We stayed in the canal quite a long distance. They may be up or down +the canal. But no matter which way, they are sure to be waiting for us. +We can't stay here because daylight will be breaking very soon. I'll +work my way back toward the border; you move the other way. When we find +them, we'll turn back and meet."</p> + +<p>"Good idea," O'Malley agreed. He moved off at once.</p> + +<p>Stan headed back along the bank of the canal. He kept as close to the +edge as he dared, because he figured Sim and the German would be sitting +on the bank. After going a few yards he got down on his hands and knees +and crawled. He would be able to go only a few yards more because the +floodlights were growing strong. In a few more minutes he could turn +back and be sure Sim was downstream.</p> + +<p>He was moving along, crawling slowly, when he felt the bank under him +begin to sag and slip. With a swift effort he tried to pull himself away +from the canal. The cave-in took a big slice of earth with it. Stan's +grasping hands found only torn roots and wet mud. He went over the edge +and into the canal along with a half ton of earth. He and the dirt hit +the water with a terrific splash.</p> + +<p>Instantly a floodlight snapped on and swung around to sweep the canal. +Stan went down in a mass of mud and water. He came up pawing and +struggling. Men began shouting on the shore. Stan ducked under the icy +water and plunged toward the bank. He came up against the grassy bank +and shook the water out of his eyes. Both banks were swarming with +soldiers.</p> + +<p>Stan thought fast. He wanted the others to escape. They had to get away. +He was getting set for another dive when the searchlight found him and +pinned him to the bank like a trapped animal. Guards with machine guns +covered him threateningly. He didn't have a chance. An officer was +shouting at him in German.</p> + +<p>"Hold your fire, I'll get out," Stan shouted. He wanted to hold the +attention of the men until his friends got away.</p> + +<p>"A Britisher," the officer shouted. "Get out on the bank!" His English +was a bit thick but understandable.</p> + +<p>Stan climbed out and was surrounded by armed men in an instant. He was +marched up the bank and halted under the floodlight. The officer stood +glaring at him.</p> + +<p>"Where do you come from?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"I came out of that canal, and it was a bit chilly," Stan answered. "I'd +appreciate some dry clothing."</p> + +<p>"American!" the officer exclaimed. "A spy dressed in the clothes of a +farmer."</p> + +<p>"I just borrowed these. I'm not a spy. You can check up on that." Then +Stan clamped his lips shut. If he revealed his identity now, the Germans +would know where to look for O'Malley and Sim.</p> + +<p>"A spy, no less," the officer snapped. "Come with me."</p> + +<p>"Gladly," Stan said.</p> + +<p>He was taken to a small shack a few yards back from the canal. There was +a stove in the shack and Stan edged close to it. The officer stepped to +a wall phone and put through, a call. He talked quite a while and +finally began to laugh loudly. After he hung up he turned to Stan.</p> + +<p>"The colonel agrees you are a spy and a very dumb one. You will be sent +to him and he will have you shot at once. It is easy to see why you +Americans cannot fight the Germans. You are careless fools, all of you."</p> + +<p>Stan grinned. He figured the officer was the dumb one. He had not even +asked Stan if there were any other men with him.</p> + +<p>"I guess you're right, Captain," he said. "But if I'm to be shot I +should be made comfortable. How about some dry clothes? I may contract +pneumonia and die before you get to question me."</p> + +<p>"I will deliver you to the colonel. What he does with you is no affair +of mine." The captain opened the door and called to his men outside.</p> + +<p>Stan walked out and a squad of four men marched him to an open car. He +was shoved into the back seat and the guards climbed in, three with him +and one in front. Stan was grateful for the packed condition in the +rear seat, because chill air began to swirl back on him as they roared +away. He got a little warmth from the soldiers crowded in with him.</p> + +<p>Day was breaking as they moved into a city. Stan figured it was Arnhem. +The car pulled up in front of a long stone building and Stan was hustled +inside. He was taken into a bare room and left there alone. There was +some heat in the room and he ceased shaking.</p> + +<p>An hour passed and a tall soldier came into the room. He beckoned Stan +to follow him. They walked down a hall and entered another room. Here +Stan was served a bowl of potato soup. It was watery thin, but it was +hot. His jailer sat watching him as he ate. When he had finished, the +man nodded and got to his feet. Stan followed him down the hall again +and into a room furnished as an office. A fat German colonel sat at a +desk. His bloated cheeks puffed out and he burst into a hearty laugh +when he saw Stan. His fat stomach heaved as he laughed, and his +bristling mustache made Stan think of a walrus he once had seen in a +zoo.</p> + +<p>Stan stood waiting. For the life of him he could see nothing so funny +about his personal appearance. He looked the colonel over with a +critical eye. The colonel ceased laughing and regarded Stan closely.</p> + +<p>"Lieutenant Stan Wilson, Eighth Air Force, U.S.A.," he said softly. "But +for my purposes a spy, caught creeping up on one of our outposts dressed +as a German farmer."</p> + +<p>Stan jumped in spite of himself. The colonel knew his name. That was +bad. He said nothing, knowing the colonel would explain more in detail.</p> + +<p>"You American swine are such fools, so easy for the German mastermind to +handle. But you are the prize <i>dummer</i> of all. We gave you a chance to +escape along with your friend Lieutenant O'Malley, and you had to get +caught in spite of us." He leaned back and laughed loudly.</p> + +<p>"Sim Jones was a spy?" Stan shot the question at the colonel.</p> + +<p>"Sim Jones is no spy, but Herr Egbert Minter is a spy and a very clever +one. He fooled you men into thinking he was Jones. You were trapped by +a very clever actor, Lieutenant." The colonel patted his stomach and +smiled broadly. "I have been given a complete file upon the case along +with orders to put you out of the way."</p> + +<p>"Why should you let us escape?" Stan asked.</p> + +<p>"As you will not live to tell about it, I may as well enlighten you." +The colonel fairly beamed. "When Herr Minter and the redheaded +lieutenant reach England, as they will, Minter will send us information +as to a big raid we are sure you are planning. After Lieutenant O'Malley +and Herr Minter tell your High Command how near collapse Germany is, +they will make the raid with everything they have to knock us out of the +war." The colonel bent forward. "We were careful to stage many little +scenes for your benefit. I am sorry only that this O'Malley person is to +get through to tell how weakened Germany is within her own borders. You +would have served much better."</p> + +<p>Stan stared at the German and his teeth clamped shut hard. "A very +clever set of tricks, Colonel," he said coldly. "But they won't get you +any place. Minter won't be able to get a message out in time."</p> + +<p>"We already have the radio equipment where he can use it. We have made a +careful study of the habits of Lieutenant Jones. You see he was knocked +a bit out of his head and talked a great deal about his home and about +his career in the service while he was in the hospital." The colonel +leaned back. "I, Colonel Glotz, had no small part in this and will earn +an advancement. Heil Hitler!" He snapped the words out sharply.</p> + +<p>"And you intend to shoot me?" Stan said.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps, unless you can give us some information regarding this new +fighter craft you were flying."</p> + +<p>Stan's eyes narrowed. He was sure Colonel Glotz's orders did not call +for shooting him on the spot. He would have a little time to plan an +escape. His chances would be desperately slim, he knew that, but he had +faced death many times before and had always cheated the final pay-off.</p> + +<p>"Well?" Glotz asked.</p> + +<p>"I don't know what I could tell you," Stan said, pretending to be +debating with himself.</p> + +<p>"We'll give you a few hours to think it over. I have some important +messages to dictate." Glotz rang a bell and two guards appeared. They +stepped up beside Stan and nodded toward the door.</p> + +<p>Stan was marched out into the hall and down a few doors to a small room. +He was shoved inside and the door was locked. There was a cot and a +table in the room. A small light bulb dangled from a cord. Its feeble +light was necessary because the room was an inside one without windows. +Except for a barred transom over the door, there was no means of +ventilation.</p> + +<p>Stan sat down on the cot to think. He had to get away and warn the +Eighth Air Force of the trap being baited for them. That matter was more +important than saving his own neck.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h2> + +<h3>SPY</h3> + + +<p>Stan lay on the cot for several hours, looking up at the dangling light +bulb. He had been able to think of no plan of escape that seemed likely +to succeed. But after careful thought he was convinced Colonel Glotz had +been merely showing off. Stan felt certain Glotz would have to wait for +orders from his superiors before he did anything. Those orders, however, +could come through very quickly.</p> + +<p>His thoughts were disturbed by the rattling of the iron bar across the +outside of his door. The door creaked open and a man in civilian clothes +entered. Stan heard the shuffle of feet outside in the hall and knew +armed guards were waiting. The civilian was a slender man with a big +nose and a very small chin. He looked at Stan out of little eyes set +close together.</p> + +<p>"Sorry to disturb your rest, Lieutenant Wilson." The man bowed stiffly. +"I am Domber." He said it as though Stan ought to know him once he had +mentioned his name.</p> + +<p>Stan nodded and remained seated on his cot. Domber rubbed his hands +together and smiled.</p> + +<p>"You will go with me," he said. "We will have a nice long talk."</p> + +<p>Stan got to his feet. Domber stepped to the door. He frowned at the two +armed guards waiting for them.</p> + +<p>"The military have odd ways. They always have guards about."</p> + +<p>"They are funny that way," Stan agreed dryly.</p> + +<p>They walked down the long hall and entered a small office. Its one wide +window looked out upon a tree-lined street. There were no bars on the +window and one of its side wings stood open. Stan saw people walking up +and down the street. An expanse of smooth turf lay between the window +and the sidewalk. Stan turned back to Domber, who had seated himself at +a desk.</p> + +<p>The office had nothing military about it. There were no war maps on the +wall. The only picture was one of Hitler, hung back of the desk. There +was an adding machine, two sets of files, several large cabinets with +steel doors, and a desk with a typewriter on it. Stan smiled at the +little blonde seated before the typewriter. She returned his smile with +a severe and steady look out of her gray eyes. No help there, Stan +thought.</p> + +<p>"Be seated," Domber said, pointing to a chair beside the desk. He fished +out a box of cigars, flipped the lid open, and extended the box toward +Stan. "Smoke?"</p> + +<p>"No, thanks," Stan said.</p> + +<p>Domber selected a cigar after turning several over. "Such poor cigars. +I'll be glad when the war is over and I can again import some of my +favorite Tampa Perfectos." He snipped the end off the cigar with a gold +clipper, then jabbed a full inch of the end into his mouth and rolled +the cigar around as though tasting its flavor. "Now," he said, "we will +get down to business."</p> + +<p>Stan leaned back and waited.</p> + +<p>"I went to considerable trouble to get this chance to talk with you. The +colonel is a bloody old coot. All he thinks of is shooting people. I +have other interests besides killing men. My hobby is planes." Domber +bent forward.</p> + +<p>Stan was instantly on the alert. He noticed the stenographer had placed +a sheet of notes on a rack and was clicking away on her typewriter, but +he did not think she was copying from her notes. He was sure she was +going to record what he said.</p> + +<p>"You have had a chance to work with many new ideas. You'll be with us +until after the war, so I see no reason why we shouldn't have a chat +about new wrinkles." He smiled and rolled his cigar.</p> + +<p>"I understood I was to be shot as a spy," Stan said.</p> + +<p>"The military is bent upon it, but I have much influence. I could have +you designated a prisoner of war. Tomorrow I will see the Fuerher +himself."</p> + +<p>"What do you want to know?" Stan realized this was a chance to stay +alive for a time. If he could interest Domber without giving away any +secrets, he might be given a chance to escape.</p> + +<p>"You were flying a P-51, a Mustang, the British call it."</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"This ship has some very interesting equipment on it, some typically +American improvements."</p> + +<p>"Just what features do you mean?" Stan asked.</p> + +<p>"I operate a plane factory. We have been experimenting with a +supercharger. The one on the P-51 is something new. If you can recall +some of the details...." Domber leaned forward.</p> + +<p>"You haven't captured one intact yet?" Stan asked.</p> + +<p>"No, and the possibility seems quite remote. You Yanks have been very +clever in fixing it so that that particular piece of mechanism is always +smashed when a ship lands."</p> + +<p>"I'm not an instrument man. I just fly planes," Stan said. "But I have +had general instructions on the new dual supercharger." Stan spoke +slowly.</p> + +<p>"You might, perhaps, be able to suggest repairs for one that is partly +destroyed?" Domber asked eagerly.</p> + +<p>"I have patched together some badly hashed ships," Stan answered.</p> + +<p>Domber rubbed his hands together. "I think we shall have a very pleasant +time working upon a P-51," he said.</p> + +<p>"Don't get your hopes too high, I'm no expert," Stan said.</p> + +<p>"When one is sure to be turned over to Colonel Glotz as a spy, one is +apt to be quite successful as a mechanic, what?" Domber beamed.</p> + +<p>"If I don't make good on this I'm to be shot?" Stan looked Domber +squarely in the eye.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid so. It would be very painful to me, I can assure you. I do +not like to see men shot. But we won't think of that. We'll have lunch +and then we'll get at the job." He turned and spoke to his secretary in +German, then shot a glance at Stan.</p> + +<p>"He wants to see if I understand German," Stan thought. He did not show +any interest and Domber smiled broadly.</p> + +<p>"We will go out to lunch now," he said.</p> + +<p>Outside the door the two guards fell in behind them. Stan smiled as he +thought of the appearance they made. Domber was dressed in a natty suit. +He wore spats and carried a small cane, which his secretary handed him +as he walked out. There was a red feather in the bow on his snap brim +felt hat. Stan was dressed in a wrinkled and soiled outfit that was +streaked with mud.</p> + +<p>They walked out of the building and entered a big car. The guards got in +with the driver and the car pulled away. Stan noted looks of hate and +fear on the faces of the Dutch people in the street as they watched the +car slide past. He had a hunch Domber was known to these people; he also +had a hunch the plane maker was hated and feared by them. They stopped +outside a big house where four guards stood watch over the entrance. The +guards saluted as Domber got out. He puffed up like a pouter pigeon and +shouted:</p> + +<p>"Heil Hitler!"</p> + +<p>They walked up the steps and entered the house. A man met them in the +vestibule. He took Domber's hat and cane and stared at Stan.</p> + +<p>"See that Lieutenant Wilson is furnished a complete outfit of clothing. +Show him to the east room." Domber spoke in English.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Herr Domber," the man said and bowed.</p> + +<p>"Run along with Herman," Domber said. "I'll be having a brandy in the +library." He turned away at once.</p> + +<p>Stan followed Herman up a wide stairway and into a large room. It was +furnished in a luxurious manner. Herman bowed at the door.</p> + +<p>"You will wish me to draw hot water for a bath?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Herman, I will take a hot bath. See that there's plenty of +soap." Stan grinned.</p> + +<p>Herman drew water in the bathroom and laid out snowy towels. Coming out +of the bathroom, he said:</p> + +<p>"I will lay out clothing for you."</p> + +<p>Stan lost no time in getting into the tub. He splashed and built up a +mountain of suds, then wallowed in them. As he lay there he suddenly +began to laugh. This was the oddest experience he had ever had. Yet +there was something sinister about it. Domber had a fishy coldness about +him that was chilling. Stan decided it was the way he looked out of his +little eyes. There seemed to be a smoldering hate back of the light in +those eyes.</p> + +<p>Herman had laid out clothing, a business suit which was very close to +Stan's size, fresh linen, a shirt, a tie and a pair of dress shoes. +Herman was nowhere in sight.</p> + +<p>Stan dressed slowly. The shoes fit well and so did the shirt. Herman was +an expert man's man. He had sized Stan up correctly. As he knotted the +tie, Stan walked to a wide window overlooking a garden. There were no +bars on the window and the garden was deserted. No guards paced back and +forth. Stan began to wonder if he was not supposed to escape again.</p> + +<p>Walking to the door he opened it. The hallway was empty. Stan walked +toward the back of the house and found a balcony with a flight of steps +leading to the garden below. He wondered what would happen if he walked +down those steps and into the garden. With a grin on his lips he did +just that.</p> + +<p>Stepping off the last step he strolled into the garden. No one +challenged him, so he walked around the house. He was standing looking +out into an alley lined with trees. Suddenly a man stepped out from +behind a wall and bowed to Stan.</p> + +<p>"Luncheon is ready," the man said in perfect English.</p> + +<p>Stan noticed, as the wind whipped open the man's coat, that he was +wearing a heavy shoulder holster. He smiled. The man reminded him of a +Chicago gangster he once had seen captured.</p> + +<p>"I was just going in," he said. Turning about he entered the house. +Herman appeared at once and bowed. Stan followed him into Domber's +library. A table had been set before an open fire. Domber was seated in +an easy chair, puffing on a cigar.</p> + +<p>"Have a pleasant stroll in the garden?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"You certainly requisitioned a nice place for yourself," Stan remarked.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I have owned this for years," Domber said. "This is my home."</p> + +<p>That accounted for the hated looks the people on the street had given +Domber as he passed. He was a Dutch Quisling, a traitor to his own +country. Domber seemed to read Stan's thoughts.</p> + +<p>"I always have been credited with having brains enough to take care of +my business and my own comforts," he said dryly. Then he smiled. "But +sit down. We will see what we have for luncheon."</p> + +<p>The common people of Germany might be eating poorly and tightening their +belts, but Herr Domber's table gave no hint of lack of supplies. There +was real coffee, strong and black, fruit, fish, fresh vegetables and a +roast squab for each diner. Stan put aside all unpleasant thoughts and +ate heartily.</p> + +<p>While they ate, Herr Domber kept up a steady conversation. He talked +about fighter planes. Stan was surprised at the things Domber revealed +in a casual way. He gave a very good description of the new secret +rocket which was doing so much damage to the Forts and Libs, even +telling Stan how it was handled. Once in a while he would ask a +question. Each time Stan matched wits against the traitor to keep from +telling him anything important.</p> + +<p>After a while Stan was convinced Domber was so sure he would never live +to repeat what he had heard that he felt no need to be careful about +what he told the Yank.</p> + +<p>"I have had many guests, Dutch, Norwegian, British and now an American." +Domber beamed. "I have enjoyed each of them, and I am sure they never +complained of my hospitality."</p> + +<p>Back of the genial manner Stan felt the cold threat of death lurking in +the way the traitor looked at him. Domber was very sure of himself and +of his power. Stan resolved that he was going to be one guest who fooled +the Dutch Quisling.</p> + +<p>After dinner Domber showed Stan his collection of war trophies and his +laboratory and workshop. The laboratory was far more elaborate than the +workshop. Stan was fascinated by the plants and animals Domber kept +there. Domber laughed softly.</p> + +<p>"I experiment much," he said. Then he added, "I have done much with +poison gas as well as with rare drugs."</p> + +<p>"You plan to use poison gas?" Stan asked.</p> + +<p>"If our plans work out well, yes," Domber said frankly. "If Minter's +work is well done and we are able to smash a large part of the British +and American air power, we will launch gas attacks upon the principal +English cities and later make an invasion." He smiled slightly.</p> + +<p>"You have the planes?" Stan asked.</p> + +<p>"For one big blow. First we smash the air power, then we attack. We have +endured much bombing to save air power for this." Domber had ceased +smiling and for the first time his hate came to the surface. He shrugged +his shoulders suddenly. "But we waste time. We will have a look at the +P-51."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2> + +<h3>MUSTANG</h3> + + +<p>Herr Domber led the way from his shop and laboratory to the street +entrance where a car was waiting. He scowled at the guards outside his +door and shouted, "Heil Hitler!" Then he marched down the walk to the +car. This time no uniformed guards went along. There was just the +driver, Domber, and Stan.</p> + +<p>Stan was beginning to get the idea that the Dutch Quisling disliked the +military. But he was not fooled into thinking Domber did not have his +own henchmen. The driver of the car was a powerful fellow with beetled +brows and scowling face. As soon as they pulled away from the curb, +another car slipped in behind them and never left them until they parked +outside a walled enclosure.</p> + +<p>They were getting out of the car when a German military machine roared +up and stopped. Two officers got out and moved stiffly toward the spot +where Stan and Domber stood.</p> + +<p>"Heil Hitler," Domber said. Then he opened up with an angry flow of +German.</p> + +<p>The officers snapped back at him and a heated argument raged. Stan +gathered the officers were angry because Domber had taken Stan out +without a proper armed guard. Apparently Domber won the argument. The +officers saluted and made off.</p> + +<p>"Such fools. They fear you would escape," Domber explained. "I have told +them you would not get a hundred yards before you would be killed. No +one has ever escaped from the Bloodhound."</p> + +<p>"Bloodhound?"</p> + +<p>"That is a pet name my Dutch friends have given me." He smiled at Stan. +"But come, we are being delayed."</p> + +<p>A gate opened and a man in coveralls came up to meet them. Domber spoke +to him and the man walked with them to a locked door in a second wall. +Producing a key, he opened the door and let them through.</p> + +<p>Stan was startled by what he saw. There was a sunken runway leading into +an underground hangar. Domber beamed.</p> + +<p>"Not a bomb ever falls here. Above our shops there is a church and a +schoolhouse. We do much valuable research here and cannot afford to be +disturbed."</p> + +<p>Stan looked along the runway. It ended abruptly at a steel fence, but a +roadway went on in a twisting course, making detection of the runway +difficult.</p> + +<p>"Very clever," Stan said.</p> + +<p>"I was sure you'd appreciate it," Domber said. "Now we'll have a look at +the P-51."</p> + +<p>They entered the underground hangar by going down a shaft in an +elevator. Stepping out of the elevator Stan saw a well-lighted and +spacious hangar. Various planes stood along one high wall. There was a +Fort, a Wellington, two Spitfires, a Lockheed Lightning, and at the far +end in a wide shop space stood a new P-51. Her nose was pointed out +toward the runway and she looked ready to glide out from underground and +take off. Domber laughed.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry, but it can't be done," he said as though Stan had spoken +his thoughts out loud.</p> + +<p>"Can't blame me for thinking about it, can you?" Stan asked.</p> + +<p>They walked over to the fighter. She had been patched up and looked +airworthy enough.</p> + +<p>"Mind if I go up?" Stan asked.</p> + +<p>A dozen men working in the shop stood watching. "No, go ahead," Domber +said.</p> + +<p>Stan climbed up and into the cockpit. A glance showed him that there had +been considerable instrument damage which the German mechanics had not +been able to repair. He noticed at once that the engine was hooked up to +a small portable gasoline tank. That meant she had no fuel in her except +just enough to make test runs of the engine. It probably was a fire +hazard measure, but it also was one reason why Domber was so willing to +let Stan get into the cockpit.</p> + +<p>The other reason Stan soon discovered. Looking out, he saw on each side +of the opening to the runway, batteries of aircraft cannon. Those guns +could lay a concentrated cross fire over the runway so deadly that any +plane would be blown to bits in a minute.</p> + +<p>Stan climbed down out of the cockpit. He faced Herr Domber. "Just what +was it you wanted me to do?" He had to stall for time, more time.</p> + +<p>"You will assemble and repair the supercharger on that plane. Every tool +you need will be at hand, and if you need an assistant I will furnish +you one who speaks English." Herr Domber was smiling as he spoke.</p> + +<p>"That's a big order," Stan said.</p> + +<p>"My experts could do this, but it might take several weeks and we do not +have that much time. We have such a ship as this one. All we need is a +supercharger to make it the best ship in the world. Naturally I am +anxious and do not wish to lose any time."</p> + +<p>"I'll need an English-speaking helper. I may have to have parts made and +I do not run a lathe," Stan said.</p> + +<p>Herr Domber called a man over to him. After listening for a few minutes +the man left. He returned a few minutes later with a youngster not more +than eighteen years of age.</p> + +<p>"Swen, you will be Lieutenant Wilson's assistant. Help him in every way +you can. You are under his orders," Herr Domber said.</p> + +<p>"Heil Hitler," Swen said and saluted. He was a blond, curly-headed kid +with a ready smile. Stan grinned at him and said:</p> + +<p>"We'll get along."</p> + +<p>"You may talk freely to Swen," Domber said. "He is a tested party man, +but he does not like killing, so he is a mechanic. I have to watch him +to keep the generals from stealing him and sending him off to Russia to +fight." Domber laughed, but Stan saw fear come into the boy's eyes.</p> + +<p>"Anyone else speak English in the shop?" he asked. "I might want another +man."</p> + +<p>"No others," Domber said. "Now we must get to work."</p> + +<p>Stan was supplied with a locker and a pair of coveralls. He was taken to +a special room in the shop. There he found parts from P-51's recently +shot down. The smaller shop was completely equipped. Three other men +worked at benches before a window. Stan was assigned to a vacant bench. +Before him lay part of the new dual turbo-supercharger. Other parts were +stacked on a table.</p> + +<p>"Know anything about one of these gadgets?" Stan asked Swen.</p> + +<p>"Gadget?" Swen repeated in a British accent.</p> + +<p>"Yank word for machine," Stan explained.</p> + +<p>"No, I have never seen one before," Swen replied.</p> + +<p>Herr Domber stood around for a little while, then made off. Stan grinned +at Swen. He had decided to work upon the kid. There might be a chance to +do something. Swen, like most young Germans, was deadly afraid of being +sent to the Russian front. It might be that he secretly hated the men +who bossed him.</p> + +<p>At the next bench a tall mechanic was working with a part from a +Spitfire. Stan moved over to the edge of his bench.</p> + +<p>"Hand me that wrench," he said to the tall German.</p> + +<p>The German reached over and handed Stan the wrench. Suddenly his face +became very red and he spoke angrily in German.</p> + +<p>"Thanks, buddy," Stan said. "I'm glad you speak American."</p> + +<p>The German shrugged his shoulders and went on working. Swen looked at +Stan and said:</p> + +<p>"I am your helper. I could have handed you that wrench."</p> + +<p>"I just wanted to be sure Heinie, here, could understand everything we +say. I noticed that he was just playing with that oil gauge. It's an old +type that's been out of use for four years."</p> + +<p>The tall German's face got redder. He growled something and moved away. +Stan figured he was going to report he had been spotted.</p> + +<p>"Now, Swen," Stan said, "we're going to be friends, you and I."</p> + +<p>Swen looked scared. "Heil Hitler," he said. "I am not to be your +friend."</p> + +<p>"You won't get hurt," Stan said softly. "Just tell them everything I +tell you when they question you tonight."</p> + +<p>"They will kill you," Swen said in a low voice. "Herr Domber poisoned +the other one. He will do the same to you."</p> + +<p>"Tell me about it quickly. They won't be leaving us alone without a +spotter very long," Stan said.</p> + +<p>"I do not know how it was done. I heard the Gestapo men laughing about +it. The British flier thought he was going to get away. He fixed up his +plane and had gasoline enough for much testing. But after he had it +running and they learned what they wanted to know about it, he just fell +over dead."</p> + +<p>"That is quicker than working it out by themselves. Not much, but a few +days," Stan said grimly.</p> + +<p>At that moment the tall German who had been working at the next bench +came running up. He was out of breath when he halted before Stan.</p> + +<p>"I am to be your helper." He turned upon Swen. "Get out into the shop."</p> + +<p>"Sorry to lose you, Swen," Stan called after the boy. He turned to the +new helper. "They sure sent you back on the run. Did you get a good +skinning?"</p> + +<p>The German scowled at Stan. "I am to take orders," he muttered.</p> + +<p>Stan laughed. The softhearted Swen had been planted on him. They were +supposed to get chummy while the tall mechanic listened and picked up +anything of value which might be said.</p> + +<p>"What am I supposed to call you?" Stan asked.</p> + +<p>"Hans," the mechanic said shortly.</p> + +<p>"Well, Hans, we'll have a try at assembling this thing," Stan said.</p> + +<p>Stan worked on the supercharger all that afternoon and convinced himself +that he could fit it together and make it work. Toward evening Herr +Domber came back. He halted beside the bench and looked at the machinery +there.</p> + +<p>"You have had some success?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," Stan said innocently. "I'll have to try it out on the +ship."</p> + +<p>"Certainly," Domber agreed. "Of course. When will you wish to try it +out?"</p> + +<p>"Tomorrow afternoon," Stan said.</p> + +<p>"If you worked tonight you could try it out in the morning?" Domber +suggested with a leer.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I guess so," Stan said.</p> + +<p>"Fine. I know you won't mind working tonight."</p> + +<p>"Of course not," Stan said and felt an itch to lay his fist against Herr +Domber's receding chin.</p> + +<p>"You will honor me by having dinner with me tonight?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly," Stan said and laughed. He might as well live high while he +could live.</p> + +<p>As they went out to enter Domber's car, Stan asked, "Why do you go to +all of this fuss? I can't understand you Germans. There was a lot of +fuss in planning to let us escape. Now you are putting on a big show for +me. You could get results without it."</p> + +<p>"We have much humor," Domber said. "I have my own little jokes and enjoy +them." He smiled at Stan.</p> + +<p>Stan thought about the R.A.F. flier who had been poisoned after he +revealed what Domber wanted to know. He decided Herr Domber was a bit of +a maniac as well as an enemy and a traitor to Holland.</p> + +<p>After an excellent dinner Stan was taken back to the job. Herr Domber +was in high spirits. Hans was waiting at the bench. Stan saw at once +that the mechanic had been trying to fit the machinery together. With a +grin he fished several parts out of his coverall pocket and set to work.</p> + +<p>As he worked he began to plan. If he was to be poisoned, it likely would +be done shortly before the tryout. He would have to watch closely. He +would drink nothing and he would eat nothing. And he would keep two +vitally important parts hidden until he had to put them into place. He +also would be very careful no one bumped into him and jabbed him with a +hypodermic needle. The last method of poisoning did not seem to fit in +with the character of Herr Domber. His method would be cunning and +crafty, and it would be done with a lot of showmanship.</p> + +<p>Nobody but Herr Domber, Stan decided, would have thought up such a crazy +method of saving a few days time, and of making away with a prisoner of +war. If he was called to face charges after the war, he could claim Stan +Wilson had turned traitor to his country and disclosed secrets before +meeting an accidental death.</p> + +<p>Stan looked at the machine on the bench. He was taking chances with +valuable secrets, but if he escaped he would be able to stop a mass +slaughter of British and American planes and men, perhaps even a gas +attack upon England. He decided it was worth the risk.</p> + +<p>"You work very slow," Hans complained.</p> + +<p>"You're here to take orders," Stan snapped.</p> + +<p>Hans jumped and scowled at Stan. He was so used to being snapped at that +he reacted without thought. Stan laughed.</p> + +<p>"You jump like monkeys when they yell at you, don't you?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Pig," Hans muttered under his breath.</p> + +<p>Stan went to work again. At twelve o'clock he took off his coveralls and +slipped several parts into his coat pocket.</p> + +<p>"Tell the boss I'm ready to go to bed," he said.</p> + +<p>Hans made off and while he was gone Stan did a few things to the +supercharger. Hans came back quickly.</p> + +<p>"Herr Domber will call for you," he said, then seated himself and +lighted a cigarette.</p> + +<p>Domber appeared a half-hour later, dressed in evening clothes. He was +beaming.</p> + +<p>"You have everything ready for a tryout in the morning?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Everything," Stan assured him.</p> + +<p>"I must have a look at the machine," Domber said. He walked to the bench +and spent a half-hour studying the supercharger. Finally he turned to +Stan. "How much testing will be required to adjust it?"</p> + +<p>"It can only be adjusted by running the motor," Stan said and did not +smile. "I should say the plane could be ready for flight by afternoon."</p> + +<p>"You will run it that long?"</p> + +<p>"It may take even longer," Stan said. "This is a delicate bit of +machinery and I am not too familiar with it. I have only had a general +course in its construction."</p> + +<p>"In that case we will have the tanks connected and filled with +gasoline." Domber smiled broadly.</p> + +<p>"That will save time, and I understand that's what you are interested +in," Stan said.</p> + +<p>"Time, yes, we have to work fast."</p> + +<p>Stan grinned. He knew that Herman Goering's Air Ministry was wild with +fear and grasping at every straw of help they could get for their +fighter planes. They had to have something that would stop the +Fortresses and Liberators, or their cities would be destroyed, and they +had to have it quick.</p> + +<p>"Haven't you ever thought that I might sabotage this job?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"I think not," Domber said. "I am a student of the human mind. When I +have studied a man I know just about what he will do. I know you do not +wish to be turned over to the Gestapo and given the treatment they use +to get information."</p> + +<p>"No, I guess I'm not that much of a hero," Stan said.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2> + +<h3>ZERO HOUR</h3> + + +<p>As Stan worked on the supercharger he went over his plans carefully. +With everything about ready to make tests, he was beginning to wonder if +the story Swen had told him was not just the wild fancy of a scared kid. +He even thought of the possibility that Swen had been planted to get him +off on the wrong track. There had been so many crazy things happening +that he could not afford to overlook any angle.</p> + +<p>He had three mechanics helping him, with Hans giving his orders to the +two who spoke no English. As he worked he began to wonder if he had not +been neatly tricked. He was sure that at least one of the men hanging +around watching him was a Luftwaffe pilot. No one interfered with his +work or tried to tell him what to do. He was having as free a hand as +though he had been working in a shop of the Eighth Air Force. Some of +the men scowled at him, but most of them just watched with interest and +with something else. Stan guessed they were eagerly waiting for the trap +to spring. Then they could have a big laugh on the dumb Yank.</p> + +<p>The supercharger parts were about installed in the ship. Stan checked +the gasoline supply. There was just enough to fly him out over the +channel if he took off before he used too much. Once out over the +channel he might be able to water-crash the P-51 near a British patrol +or pick-up boat. The trouble was that the instant the engine began to +work the trap would be sprung on him. He had to figure that one out +fast.</p> + +<p>Swen showed up and hung around watching along with the other mechanics. +He grinned at Stan once and shook his head. Stan winked at him. Herr +Domber showed up in a sports outfit. His white spats gleamed and his +yellow tie shone. Domber was in a very genial mood.</p> + +<p>"You are progressing?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"I'm getting the thing together, but I don't know whether it will +work," Stan said.</p> + +<p>"We will have lunch at a café downtown today," Herr Domber said without +the flicker of an eye. "I have a special café in mind where the sea food +is excellent and the wine very choice."</p> + +<p>"That will be fine," Stan said and grinned as he hoisted himself up into +the ship.</p> + +<p>He lay inside the fuselage and looked at the supercharger. There was one +valve which he had not fitted. He was afraid that if he fitted that +valve into place the Mustang would purr like a cat. He was now convinced +that the Germans had had all of their trouble with the air mixture and +the pressure intake. His instructions on the new machine had been very +detailed on these points. They were the secrets of the new supercharger.</p> + +<p>Stan plugged the valve opening with a wad of cotton waste and tucked the +valve into his pocket. Of one thing he was sure, the Mustang's engine +had to be hot if he expected to snap her out of that hangar. And in +getting her hot he did not dare let her show signs of running smoothly. +Climbing out of the fuselage, he called to Hans:</p> + +<p>"We'll turn her up." He wiped sweat from his forehead. The air in the +hangar was hot, kept that way to make engine starting easy.</p> + +<p>Hans and his men wound up the Mustang. Stan climbed into the cockpit and +got set. From where he sat he could see, through a plate he had removed +from the panel, the adjustment valve he had seated with waste. He could +reach it by bending over.</p> + +<p>The Mustang's engine turned over and she sputtered once or twice but +refused to start. The wad of waste was no good. He had to seat the +valve. Looking out he shook his head to Hans. Then he noticed that +Domber was talking to an artillery captain over by the gate. He was +shaking his head and making violent gestures.</p> + +<p>Stan watched him carefully. It might be that Domber was telling the gun +captain not to blast the P-51 if it made a run. In that case Domber had +plans even if Stan got the ship away. Domber came back to the P-51 and +Stan looked the other way as he bent forward and seated the valve.</p> + +<p>The tough part was that if he hit the mixture just right in seating that +valve the engine would hit it off at once. Stan knew how those Allisons +worked. Given a hot room they might flip right over and go off with a +bang. He climbed out of the cockpit and made a few last checks on the +outside.</p> + +<p>A water boy came up and the men crowded around for drinks. Stan watched +the water boy carefully. He was again thinking about the poison +business. The water was in a pail and the men were dipping it out in a +tin cup. That did not look dangerous and Stan was very thirsty. He +turned his back and climbed into the cockpit again. He was down inside, +working on a repaired cable. Close to his face was the hole where the +shell had ripped through and severed the cable.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Stan heard someone whispering. It was the voice of Herr Domber.</p> + +<p>"Get set, fool, and when the boy offers him a drink you are to shake +your head. In that way he will think he has escaped being poisoned. He +is just stalling now. I want this ship tuned up. If you fail, it is the +Russian front for you."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. Heil Hitler," Swen's voice answered.</p> + +<p>Stan grinned broadly. He finished with the cable. One thing was sure. +The poison story had been a gag to make him think he had outwitted +Domber. He climbed out of the cockpit and walked over to Hans.</p> + +<p>"We'll hit her again," he said.</p> + +<p>Turning back he noted that several of the mechanics had moved in close. +A quick glance showed bulges under their coveralls which looked a lot +like army pistols or automatics. The water boy moved toward Stan. +Looking past the boy Stan saw Swen. Swen began shaking his head as Stan +looked at the water pail. Stan pretended not to see him, though Swen was +squarely in front of him.</p> + +<p>Reaching down he took the tin cup, filled it, and drank deeply. He had a +second drink, then tossed the cup to the boy. As he did so, he shot a +side glance at Herr Domber and almost burst out laughing. Domber's face +was red and his mouth was screwed into a snarl. Suddenly Stan felt sorry +for Swen. He nodded to Hans as he climbed up.</p> + +<p>Looking down he saw the mechanics with their bulging coveralls crowding +in close. Several of them had ripped their suits open and had their +hands inside. Stan eased back against the shock pad. The left brake was +the one to kick down hard. He had shoved the chock out from under the +right wheel. He had a momentary feeling that the builders of the Mustang +should have extended the armor plate further forward. The men on the +ground would have a clean shot at him. They were well forward now and +watching him like cats at a rat hole.</p> + +<p>Hans kicked the engine over to prime her. Stan got set and eased on the +switch. She turned over slowly, fired twice, idled, then fired again. +Sweat broke out over Stan's forehead. Below him the faces of Domber and +his men blurred. The engine kept on rumbling and sputtering. Stan +relaxed as he pretended to be working on the gas adjustment.</p> + +<p>He gave the valve a turn and the Allison smoothed considerably. Leaving +it that way he looked down at Hans, a deep frown on his face. He shook +his head and motioned to the mechanic. Hans did not know what he +wanted, but he moved around to the side of the ship. Stan was sorry to +have to use Hans as a shield but he knew, now, that a quarter turn more +on the valve would set the Allison roaring. What he needed was a bit +more heat on his temperature gauge, and he wanted to keep Hans in line.</p> + +<p>Bending over he bellowed at Hans, making his words jumble together. Hans +looked blank and shook his head. Stan scowled at him. Then he got a +bright idea. He looked over at Domber and beckoned to him. Domber came +over. He was shorter than Hans. Stan reached down and bellowed:</p> + +<p>"Get up and I'll show you how to adjust this type of supercharger!"</p> + +<p>He even gave Herr Domber a hand up on the step. Domber leaned into the +cockpit. Stan pointed to the valve. His fingers closed over it and began +to turn it. Then his right arm shot out. His fingers gripped Domber's +yellow tie. The Dutch Quisling's eyes bulged and he pulled back.</p> + +<p>In that instant the Allison surged into full, smooth power. Stan kicked +down on one brake and snapped her around. Like a falcon launching out +from a limb, the Mustang shot toward the opening ahead. Stan held Domber +over the edge of the open hatch until the ship was out in the sunshine, +then he gave the little Quisling a shove.</p> + +<p>Hoiking the tail of the Mustang, he hopped her suddenly. It was a trick +he had depended upon to save him from the guns. As she shot upward he +saw flame and fire rip the runway. The blast was so close to his belly +that it sheared away most of the landing gear. Stan banked and dropped +back down toward the roofs of the city. As he laid over he saw the +withering fire on the runway lift. Amid the ripped up slabs of cement he +saw a man lying sprawled on his face. He was half covered by a slab of +concrete.</p> + +<p>"One for the Dutch patriots," Stan said grimly.</p> + +<p>As he roared over the rooftops, Stan leaned back and laughed. He would +have to fly low because the high-level dual supercharger was not +working. All he had done was adjust the regular carburization system. +He had not taken chances on his work on the high-altitude machinery.</p> + +<p>There were no Nazi planes in the air. There had been no alert. Stan was +sure there would be no attack until he reached Rotterdam. Using the +tactics of the Rhubarb Raiders he flew low over the tile roofs and the +windmills.</p> + +<p>In a surprisingly short time, the Mustang broke out over Rotterdam and +Stan straightened his course. His compass was out, the gyro-horizon had +been removed and both clocks were stopped. The radio had been stripped +out of the ship along with every other instrument not absolutely +necessary to test flight. Domber had only wanted to learn about the +supercharger. His egotism in believing everyone else was dull-witted +compared to himself had saved Stan.</p> + +<p>Over the estuary of the Rhine River Stan met his first flak. A startled +battery opened up as he flipped over so low down he could see the +buttons on the artillery men's uniforms. The firing was wild, but it +roused gunners out on the Hook of Holland. There the Jerries did some +closer shooting. But Stan was dusting the concrete emplacements and the +gunners did not get their hearts into the job. Stan flipped up over blue +water with a grin on his face.</p> + +<p>Checking his gasoline supply, he judged he could get to the middle of +the channel. He had no parachute and no life belt or Mae West suit to +float him. The chill water of the channel would soon drag him down. He +had to locate a patrol boat or a British ship of some other class. And +he had to watch for Messerschmitts and Focke-Wulf fighters.</p> + +<p>High above him he spotted three fighter craft. He saw them wheel and +bank into the sun. They would be coming downstairs to have a look. +Possibly they had been warned by radio to look for him. A minute later +he spotted five more planes and these he was able to check. They were FW +190 fighters and they were coming up from the direction of Ostende on +the Belgium coast. Then he saw two Me 109 Stingers slipping in from the +other side. Stan kicked the Mustang wide open. No use trying to save gas +by holding cruising speed. He had to get away from that coast.</p> + +<p>The Mustang knifed ahead and Stan bent forward as the air-speed +indicator rolled up to just under four hundred miles per hour. There was +no more boost and he longed for the dual supercharger. The FW's dropped +in behind, unable to head him off, but the Me's came on like falcons +trapping a homing pigeon. Stan felt a good deal like a pigeon. He was +unarmed and he was carrying a vital message that had to get through. He +dived down close to the water and roared ahead.</p> + +<p>One Me dived in on him and zoomed over him. Stan felt lead spattering +all over his ship and saw cannon shells hit the sea close below his +wings. The second Me came in and Stan slipped a bit, kicking the top of +a wave with his port wing.</p> + +<p>The Jerry was coming down at a terrific rate. He did not think any sane +flier would be zooming along on the crests of the waves. When Stan +dipped, the Jerry missed him and shot past. Stan pulled up sharply just +as a great cloud of water and smoke lifted above the sea. The Jerry had +hit nose-on. Stan saw the tail of his ship and one square-tipped wing +rise above the green water, then slip from sight.</p> + +<p>In coming up Stan went over the third Me. It managed to flatten out but +went skidding along the tops of the waves for a half mile before it got +into the air again.</p> + +<p>That gave Stan his chance to get away. He could outrun the Me's once he +got them down on his level, where they could not use their diving speed. +But the three fighter craft he had first spotted were coming down now. +They were dangerous ships. All three of them were FW 190's, and diving +on an enemy from above is a job the FW does best.</p> + +<p>Stan settled down close to the channel again and kept racing on. The +FW's were sloping in at a screaming pace. Stan felt their first lead as +it hailed around him. He stayed in the fire a split second, then bounced +up and over. He saw the three FW's far below him. They were coming +around for another climb.</p> + +<p>"Sorry, fellows, but I just can't wait," Stan muttered.</p> + +<p>He nosed down again and used the slope to build up speed. Suddenly he +glanced at his gasoline indicator. It was getting wobbly. Stan went up +again to have a look around. Far ahead he spotted two black specks with +smoke pluming up over them. That meant larger ships than patrol boats. +They might be German light destroyers on patrol, but they were the only +craft in sight. He had to make a try for them.</p> + +<p>Sloping off again, he roared away toward the ships. Slowly their hulls +became larger and Stan saw that they were destroyers, small, sleek, and +fast. They were plowing along at top speed, which was not a good sign. +German craft in those waters would be making knots because Allied planes +kept a sharp watch over the channel.</p> + +<p>Stan went in at top speed. He was still a long way from the two ships +when his engine quit. It went out without any sputtering at all, and it +refused to rev up a single blast.</p> + +<p>Flying so low, Stan knew he would not stay up over any great distance. +He felt the Mustang begin to settle. The ships were closer now, but he +still had not identified them. That no longer mattered. If they were +German he would just sink with the Mustang. Considerable haze and smoke +enveloped the ships. They were putting about and swinging away from him +so that the smoke kept them covered. Stan had a wild notion they thought +he was trying to torpedo them and were taking evasive measures.</p> + +<p>"Germans," he said between his gritted teeth.</p> + +<p>Then the Mustang shot through the smoke, grazed the prow of one of the +destroyers, and settled into the channel with a terrific splash. Stan +heard anti-aircraft guns blasting away and saw flame and smoke belching +from dozens of gun muzzles above him. "They aim to finish me off right," +he thought wryly.</p> + +<p>He promptly forgot his resolve to go down with the Mustang. Pawing the +hatch cover open he heaved himself out of the cockpit and tumbled into +the water. A big wave rolled over him and the suction from the sinking +Mustang dragged him down. Savagely he battled his way to the surface. He +was pawing and sputtering but able to swim strongly.</p> + +<p>Looking up he saw that he was close beside the destroyer or her sister +ship, he did not know which. Something white came sailing down toward +him and he heard a voice shout to him:</p> + +<p>"Blimey, old man! Grab the preserver!"</p> + +<p>Then Stan saw that two other life preservers had been tossed to him. He +swam to the nearest one and grabbed it. He was shaking from the cold +water but he laughed. The destroyer was flying the ensign of His +Majesty's Royal Navy.</p> + +<p>A few minutes later a boat picked him up and he was rowed to the +destroyer. Climbing aboard he was met by the commander. Stan saluted the +officer.</p> + +<p>"Lieutenant Stan Wilson, Eighth Air Force, reporting, sir," he said.</p> + +<p>The commander looked at Stan's clothes, then smiled. "Where were you +going with that Mustang, Lieutenant?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"I was headed for home, sir. You mistook me for a Jerry and started +shooting."</p> + +<p>"No, we knew what you were. We just bagged two Focke-Wulf fighters off +your tail. But you can report in detail after we get you into some dry +clothing."</p> + +<p>Stan followed the commander to the officer's quarters. After climbing +into a navy blanket and swallowing hot tea, Stan told the commander his +story. He did not keep anything back. When he had finished, the +commander said:</p> + +<p>"We could radio in a warning, but I think High Command might appreciate +it if we took no chances. We'll put in and rush you right to Eighth Air +Force headquarters. That way the Germans won't be able to learn +anything."</p> + +<p>"The FW that got away will report I was blasted into the sea. Anyway, I +have a personal score to settle with a Nazi who is passing himself off +as a pal of mine."</p> + +<p>"Better get in touch with the big boys first," the commander advised.</p> + +<p>"I'll take care of both jobs," Stan promised.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2> + +<h3>SPY HUNT</h3> + + +<p>The commander of the destroyer placed Stan in the hands of a British +Intelligence Officer. Having had some experience with British methods of +sending all reports through regulation channels before acting upon them, +Stan merely requested that he be rushed to his headquarters at once.</p> + +<p>"Certainly, old fellow," the officer said. "But that will be a bit +awkward, you know. Everything is upset and everybody is very busy. +There's a big show in the making. I'll do my best. Should be able to +deliver you there by morning."</p> + +<p>"Don't bother, if that is as fast as you can get me there," Stan said. +"I'll find a way out to my outfit."</p> + +<p>"No trouble at all, glad to help you. I'll get you a room and you can +get a nice sleep. Bright and early I'll be around with a car." The +officer made it clear he was in a big hurry to be off.</p> + +<p>"Thanks a lot," Stan said. "I'll see you later."</p> + +<p>The officer stared at him as Stan turned and barged out of the little +office where the Navy had left him. News of a big air push made it +necessary for him to get into action at once. He had to report his +information in time to halt the operations, or catch Egbert Minter +before he reported to Berlin. Getting a report to his own flight +commander seemed the quickest way.</p> + +<p>Without his Yank officer's uniform Stan was at a disadvantage. The +destroyer commander had had his civilian suit cleaned and pressed for +him and he was wearing it, having discarded the coveralls he had worn in +the German shop. Standing on a street corner in the coast village, Stan +realized that he was dressed as a German civilian. Getting a ride would +not be so easy. Then he began to understand why the Intelligence Officer +had wanted to hold him overnight. Intelligence had not been so sure the +destroyer commander knew all about Stan.</p> + +<p>Grinning broadly he hurried down the street. A few people stared at him +and one man pointed him out to another. A bobby turned and stood +watching him. Stan halted abruptly. The policeman was walking toward +him. Suddenly Stan realized that he did not have a scrap of evidence on +him to prove he was a Yank officer. The Germans had taken all +identification away from him.</p> + +<p>A man came up the street and halted the bobby. He showed the policeman +something. The bobby looked at Stan, then turned back to his beat. The +man sauntered on a few steps and paused to look into a shop window. At +once Stan knew he was being trailed by British Intelligence. He had a +hunch he would be picked up soon.</p> + +<p>Entering a shop he smiled at a girl leaning on a counter. "May I use +your telephone?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Over there." The girl pointed to a small booth.</p> + +<p>Stan went into the little room. He got a connection and asked for Eighth +Air Force headquarters after convincing the operator that he was a +stranded flier. A voice at the other end of the line said in a very +irritated manner:</p> + +<p>"We are accepting nothing but accredited calls until tomorrow."</p> + +<p>"This is vitally important. I must speak to General Gilmer. This is +Lieutenant Stan Wilson speaking. I've just escaped from Germany. A +British destroyer put me ashore."</p> + +<p>"Where are you calling from?"</p> + +<p>"Ramsgate."</p> + +<p>"Get in touch with British Intelligence there. We can't put you through +to the general."</p> + +<p>"Then get me Colonel Holt."</p> + +<p>"He is in conference. Now clear the wire."</p> + +<p>"Don't hang up or I'll have your stripes!" Stan shouted.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," the voice said quickly.</p> + +<p>That meant the operator was a non-com which would make it a little +easier.</p> + +<p>"Get me Lieutenant Allison at Mess 187. Make it quick."</p> + +<p>The operator did some plugging and after a bit came back with a report.</p> + +<p>"Lieutenant Allison has shifted to fighter group. He is at 155, +Interceptor Base."</p> + +<p>"Get him!" Stan snapped.</p> + +<p>The operator began plugging again and Stan waited. He saw the man +shadowing him standing out at the counter drinking a cup of tea. After a +long wait he heard Allison's voice.</p> + +<p>"Hello there?"</p> + +<p>"This is Stan. Hold it! Listen! I'm at Ramsgate and have to get to +headquarters at once. Can't tell you how I got here, but I'm about to be +grabbed by British Intelligence. I'm dressed like a German business +man."</p> + +<p>"I say, old man, this is topping." Stan heard him shout to O'Malley.</p> + +<p>"Is Sim Jones there?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, he was here. I don't see him, but I'm sure he's around. Want to +talk to him?"</p> + +<p>"No, but either you or O'Malley keep an eye on him. Don't let him get +out of your sight. If he leaves the mess, follow him!"</p> + +<p>"I say, what's up?" Allison was clearly startled.</p> + +<p>"Do as I say, and get Colonel Holt. Tell him to pick me up here at +once. Even if he has to come himself. I'm about to be grabbed by a +plain-clothes man. But I'll be at British Intelligence here at +Ramsgate."</p> + +<p>The Intelligence man was in the door of the booth. "That will be enough +talk," he said gruffly. "Any other messages you have I'll send for you." +He reached over and hung up the phone before Stan could say another +word.</p> + +<p>"Listen, Officer. Take me back to the Intelligence Office," Stan said. +"My commander will call for me there."</p> + +<p>"You are acting very strangely, my man. Why didn't you make this call +from the office? It could have been checked there." The officer laid a +big hand on Stan's arm.</p> + +<p>"I'll make one from there," Stan said. "I'll admit I should have put +this one through from your office, but I did not know I was to be +followed and I didn't stop to think how I would look in these clothes."</p> + +<p>"I have orders to handle this myself in case you showed any suspicious +actions. I think you have acted plenty suspicious. I'm taking you to +the London office. We'll have to check this call you just made and get +you identified."</p> + +<p>"I can't waste all that time," Stan protested. "I have to get out to my +outfit."</p> + +<p>The officer smiled. "I think I've landed one of the boys we're after. We +have had a tip that the Germans have planted a group of the smoothest +men they have over here. So far we haven't been able to put a hand on a +single man of them. But you fit the picture neatly."</p> + +<p>"Why?" Stan asked.</p> + +<p>"Well, you are an escaped pilot. That's the way they have been coming +in. They are always able to slip through because they know all about the +outfit they were supposed to have been with. They're even supposed to +look exactly like the officers lost over Germany." The officer laughed. +"The more I look at you, the more convinced I am that we've landed one +of them at last. Come along."</p> + +<p>Stan walked beside the officer. He felt like kicking himself for +bungling. If the time were not so short everything could be +straightened out. But he was sure the first waves of the giant air +attack were about due to start, possibly before midnight. Allison had +said Minter was not around. He and O'Malley might not be able to locate +the spy.</p> + +<p>"Here's my car," the secret-service man said.</p> + +<p>Stan paused beside the sleek roadster. The officer opened the door. Stan +stepped inside. The officer walked around the car. Stan leaned over the +side.</p> + +<p>"Aren't you going to do anything about this flat tire?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Another flat?" the officer said in disgust. "That's the third one this +week. It's about time I had some new tires." He got out and started +around the car.</p> + +<p>Stan reached over and flipped on the switch. He slid under the wheel and +stepped on the starter. The engine hit at once and Stan slammed the +gears into mesh. The roadster leaped ahead, then stalled. Stan opened +the choke and the car leaped again, its tires showering the agent with +gravel.</p> + +<p>"Stop or I'll fire!" the officer shouted.</p> + +<p>Stan bent down and hit a near-by corner. He did not want to have a real +blowout. He wanted to get as near headquarters as he could before the +British police headed him off. The car careened around the corner and +headed down a tree-lined street. Dusk was beginning to settle and Stan +switched on the lights. He was disgusted to see that the lights were +hooded for blackout driving.</p> + +<p>Stan knew exactly how to get where he was going, but he avoided the main +road and went careening down lanes and along narrow trails hemmed in by +hedges. The car attracted little attention since it was an official +vehicle and clearly marked.</p> + +<p>Just when he figured he was going to make it in spite of the dim +headlights and the fact that darkness had settled, he burst out of a +lane into a village. He recognized the place at once. He was just two +miles from his objective, but two military cars blocked the road ahead. +Stan was sure they were waiting for him. He did not drive on to find +out. Cutting the switch he slid out of the car and ducked over a hedge.</p> + +<p>The car rolled on in the darkness while Stan sprinted along the hedge. +He passed through a back yard two jumps ahead of a shaggy dog and headed +up an alley. A few minutes later he was hurrying down the blacked-out +street.</p> + +<p>Reaching a tavern Stan saw two bicycles shoved into a rack beside the +door. One of them was locked but the other was loose. Stan slipped it +out and headed up the street again. He was mounting the cycle when he +heard shouts down the street and men running. Dimmed car headlights +gleamed. The officers were on his trail again. Stan ducked into a narrow +path and pedaled away as hard as he could.</p> + +<p>The officers chasing him drove along the road, which ran parallel to the +lane. They had a spotlight on one of the cars which they kept moving in +wide circles. Finally the light passed over Stan and the men began +shouting for him to halt. The light came back and held on him.</p> + +<p>Stan sent the bike into a cross path and was out of the beam and headed +away from the road. He pedaled furiously. The men were out of the cars +and running after him. At the first left-hand turn Stan headed back in +the direction he wanted to go and kept pumping away.</p> + +<p>The shouting behind him died down and he began to think he had evaded +his pursuers. Suddenly the lane broke out into the main road. Stan +headed down the road. He could see the looming bulk of a hangar against +the sky and knew that he was nearing headquarters. Suddenly he heard a +car behind him. Looking back he saw that one of the cars was close upon +him. He kept on pedaling but the car rapidly gained on him. It was very +close when he saw a gate ahead.</p> + +<p>With five British officers on his heels, Stan ditched the bike and +sprinted for the gate. Under shaded lights he saw two Yank soldiers. He +reached them ten yards ahead of the Britishers, having outrun the +secret-service men. The guards barred the way.</p> + +<p>"Get a guard and take me to headquarters," Stan snapped.</p> + +<p>"We turn all civilians over to the local police," one of the guards +said. He grinned at Stan. "Looks like they were right on the job, too."</p> + +<p>"They think I'm a spy, but I'm an Eighth Air Force officer and I have +important information for Colonel Holt, my commander." Stan spoke +sternly.</p> + +<p>The British officers closed in. Their leader said:</p> + +<p>"Come now. You led us a hot chase but you won't get away again."</p> + +<p>"Colonel Holt will vouch for me," Stan said.</p> + +<p>"What was the last password we used here?" the guard asked. "The one in +use when you left."</p> + +<p>Stan grinned and stepped forward. "Port wing," he said.</p> + +<p>The two guards stared hard at him. "He has it," one of them said. The +other turned to the British officials. "We'll take him to Colonel Holt. +You can come along. If he's a phony you can have him."</p> + +<p>"Now you're talking sense," Stan said.</p> + +<p>The guard made a call and two soldiers appeared. One of the British +officials went along, but it was clear they had begun to believe Stan. +The guards took Stan straight to the administration building. Stan and +the secret-service man were led to a small room off the operations room. +Within five minutes Colonel Holt appeared.</p> + +<p>"Wilson!" he almost shouted. "Where in heck did you come from?"</p> + +<p>"I came in just one jump ahead of Scotland Yard," Stan answered and +grinned at the Britisher.</p> + +<p>"Guess I'll be running along. Sorry we took you for a Jerry," the man +said.</p> + +<p>"You did a fine job. Stick around. We may be able to grab one of the men +you are looking for," Stan said.</p> + +<p>"You got out of Germany?" Colonel Holt asked. "The Germans seem to be +getting slack about prisoners lately. O'Malley and Jones got back a few +days ago."</p> + +<p>"O'Malley got back but not Jones. The Jones who got here is a spy. I'll +give you the story briefly."</p> + +<p>Stan outlined the whole scheme. When he had finished, Colonel Holt +rushed him in to the officers meeting where the final touches were +being made on plans for the big raid. Stan had an audience composed of +generals and other high-ranking officials for the next fifteen minutes. +Then phones began to buzz. The R.A.F. was notified to hold up. Stan soon +found himself out of the meeting. He headed for his barracks. Officers +had been sent to round up Egbert Minter, but Stan had a hunch he might +be able to locate the phony Sim Jones before the officers found him.</p> + +<p>Stan found Splinters Wright in the Nissen hut. Splinters leaped to his +feet when Stan opened the door. He had a service automatic in his hand +and the light of battle in his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's you," he said and seemed disappointed.</p> + +<p>"Who were you expecting?" Stan asked.</p> + +<p>"O'Malley left me here to grab Sim Jones when he comes in," Splinters +explained. He grinned broadly. "You sure started a little war around +this hut."</p> + +<p>"Where's Allison and O'Malley?" Stan asked as he began getting out of +his civilian clothes and into a uniform.</p> + +<p>"They tore out of here like wild men. I'd hate to be Sim Jones if +O'Malley locates him. We've all been wondering about that bird. He has +acted half cracked since he got back."</p> + +<p>"He isn't Sim Jones, he's Egbert Minter, a German spy," Stan explained. +"And we have to grab him."</p> + +<p>"O'Malley seemed to have a clue," Splinters said. "Bugs Monahan went +with him and Allison."</p> + +<p>"That Sim's locker?" Stan asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>Stan walked over to the locker and opened it. Inside hung one of Sim +Jones' uniforms and a few other things. Stan examined the uniform, then +turned to the toilet kit. There was nothing there. He opened the +first-aid kit. It contained sulfa pills, powder for dusting, and other +medicines. Stan picked a roll of bandage out of the kit and looked at it +intently. The bandage was packaged to keep it sterile. Suddenly Stan +ripped open the package and unrolled a strip of the bandage. It came +away freely because there were only a couple of yards of it. Under the +bandage was a roll of adding machine tape. Stan whistled softly and +Splinters crowded close to look.</p> + +<p>The tape was covered with figures and fine, even German writing.</p> + +<p>"Can you read Kraut?" Splinters asked.</p> + +<p>"No," Stan said softly. "But our Intelligence Department can."</p> + +<p>At that moment the door banged open. The boys turned and found +themselves staring into the muzzle of a service revolver. Above the +barrel glinted the eyes of Egbert Minter.</p> + +<p>"Toss that gun on the floor," he snarled.</p> + +<p>"Toss it," Stan said sharply as he saw Splinters' arm muscles begin to +tighten. "This bird will shoot."</p> + +<p>"You are right, Lieutenant Wilson. Now give me that roll of tape. It +contains valuable data regarding the Eighth Air Force." He stepped +closer and Stan passed over the roll.</p> + +<p>"You'll never get out of camp with it," Stan said softly. "I have tipped +the boys off to your little game."</p> + +<p>"I will take it back to Germany," Minter said. "But before I go I will +see that you do not make more trouble for us. You are a very capable +man, Lieutenant Wilson."</p> + +<p>"You flatter me," Stan said smoothly. "But how are you going to get back +to Germany?"</p> + +<p>"Don't try to stall for time. I have killed your pals, Allison and +O'Malley, the idiotic Irishman. Now it is your turn. I shall break a +container of Herr Domber's gas in this room before I lock you in."</p> + +<p>"Is that the way you killed Allison and O'Malley?" Stan asked. A +dangerous light had begun to flicker in his eyes.</p> + +<p>"It is and I will go back to the hut where I left them. I have a radio +there and will send a message. Two hours later I will be crossing the +channel on a British patrol boat. You know we have captured a few." +Minter smiled. He could not help gloating over his victims.</p> + +<p>"You Nazis have very nice habits," Stan remarked.</p> + +<p>"Yes, we are efficient." Minter laughed. "This hut is made of corrugated +iron, the floor is cement, the windows are steel with such small panes. +You will die like rats!"</p> + +<p>"Interesting, but I prefer to be shot!" As he spoke Stan dived in a +lightning-like leap, straight at Minter. The Nazi's gun flamed and Stan +felt a blow like the smashing of a big fist against his chest. The gun +flamed again, its fire searing Stan's neck, then he had closed with the +German and had forced his gun arm down. Splinters had dived in and hit +the Nazi around the knees. They went down in a twisting, writhing mass +with Stan's blood spattering over all three.</p> + +<p>Splinters got the gun and brought its butt down on Minter's head. He +slumped down and rolled free of Stan. Splinters stood up.</p> + +<p>"You're hit bad," he said.</p> + +<p>"I'm all right. Get some water and bring him around. We have to locate +his hut and the radio. He must have others helping him." Stan steadied +himself with an effort. He was beginning to feel sick to his stomach.</p> + +<p>Splinters got water and doused the Nazi, while Stan tore open his shirt +and began plugging an ugly wound in his shoulder. He had to sink down on +a bunk to do it. But he refused to give in. He had to get to the death +hut and rescue O'Malley and Allison. The medics might be able to save +them.</p> + +<p>Minter opened his eyes slowly. He groaned and pulled himself to a +sitting posture.</p> + +<p>"Take that container away from him," Stan ordered. Minter had pulled a +square glass container from under his coat. It was attached there by a +leather strap with a snap on it. Splinters grabbed the container and +unsnapped it.</p> + +<p>"No, you don't," he growled.</p> + +<p>"We have to make him talk," Stan said thickly. His head was beginning to +feel light and his tongue thick. The corrugated dome of the Nissen hut +was wavering and swaying.</p> + +<p>At that moment the door burst open. "Sure, an' I told you the rat would +come back here!" That was O'Malley's bellow. "And there the spalpeen +is!"</p> + +<p>"I say, old man, are you hit bad?" Allison's voice came to Stan through +the dizzy haze closing in around him.</p> + +<p>"Just nicked," Stan muttered and grinned. By some twist Allison and +O'Malley had escaped. He felt much better, so much better that he +laughed, or thought he did.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Stan lay on his bunk with a medic giving him treatment before the +ambulance boys packed him off. He opened his eyes and found the haze had +gone. He could feel the morphine working and knew he would drift away +again in a few seconds. O'Malley was looking down at him, his homely +face twisted into a scowl. There were two suspicious-looking beads which +were not sweat on each side of his nose. When Stan looked up at him, +O'Malley grinned broadly. Beside him, Allison was smiling too.</p> + +<p>"We'll have him fixed up as good as ever in no time," the doctor said.</p> + +<p>"How did you keep from getting gassed?" Stan asked.</p> + +<p>"Aisy," O'Malley answered. "The rat was so scared we'd rush him that he +jest eased out through the door an' tossed a glass jug into the room. +It was fixed to break aisy if it hit anything hard. Allison caught it as +neat as iver he caught a Rugby football." O'Malley laughed.</p> + +<p>"But the blighter had locked us in and that slowed us down some. Then +two of his henchman came along to use the radio and when they unlocked +the doors to air the gas out of the hut, we grabbed them." Allison +looked at the doctor to see if it was all right to talk. The doctor +nodded.</p> + +<p>"Your phone call came in the nick o' time," O'Malley put in. "We located +Sim and trailed him from the mess to his hideout. It was one of our own +Nissen huts the boys had been using to store bedding in. The rats had +moved the piles of bedding away from the back end and made a place +there."</p> + +<p>"Why wasn't their radio located?" Stan asked.</p> + +<p>The doctor turned to Allison and Stan. "Better let the rest of the plot +wait," he said.</p> + +<p>Splinters and Bugs edged forward. "Be savin' a cot for you, Wilson," +they said.</p> + +<p>Stan grinned happily. The morphine had claimed him, and it brought a +pleasant dream. He was again with his pals and another German plot had +been upset.</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A YANKEE FLIER OVER BERLIN***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 29774-h.txt or 29774-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/9/7/7/29774">http://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/7/7/29774</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: A Yankee Flier Over Berlin + + +Author: Al Avery + + + +Release Date: August 23, 2009 [eBook #29774] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A YANKEE FLIER OVER BERLIN*** + + +E-text prepared by Mark C. Orton, Mary Meehan, and the Project Gutenberg +Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 29774-h.htm or 29774-h.zip: + (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/29774/29774-h/29774-h.htm) + or + (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/29774/29774-h.zip) + + + + + +A YANKEE FLIER OVER BERLIN + +by + +AL AVERY + +Illustrated by Paul Laune + + + + + + + +Grosset & Dunlap +Publishers : : New York + +Copyright, 1944, by +Grosset & Dunlap, Inc. +All Rights Reserved + +Printed in the United States of America + + + + + +_For_ +LARRY SOUTHWICKE + + + +[Illustration: BOOKS ARE WEAPONS IN THE WAR OF IDEAS] + +A WARTIME BOOK + +THIS COMPLETE EDITION IS PRODUCED IN FULL COMPLIANCE WITH THE +GOVERNMENT'S REGULATIONS FOR CONSERVING PAPER AND OTHER ESSENTIAL +MATERIALS. + + +[Illustration: THE SPITFIRE STAYED WITH STAN UNTIL THE SPEEDBOAT PULLED +ALONGSIDE.] + + + + +CONTENTS + + I RUGGED GOING + II ACTION + III HULS + IV SCOUTING MISSION + V HIDDEN DROMES + VI PRISONER + VII ESCAPE + VIII FLIGHT + IX TRAPPED + X SPY + XI MUSTANG + XII ZERO HOUR + XIII SPY HUNT + + + + +A YANKEE FLIER OVER BERLIN + + + + +CHAPTER I + +RUGGED GOING + + +The Commanding Colonel stared at the big map with its red ribbons +marking air trails to and from targets. He was spotting the exact point +where his Third Fighter group would have to turn back and leave the big +Fortresses and Liberators to go it alone into the concentrated defenses +of Germany. + +Weather Officer Miller looked glumly at the map as Colonel Holt placed +his finger on a spot. + +"6/10 cloud over station six." Station six was a Luftwaffe fighter +field. + +The colonel scowled and shook his head. "Are the big boys going out?" + +"Yes, sir. Conditions over target are very good." Weather grinned when +he said it. + +"We won't get much of a whack at the Jerries," the colonel said rather +testily. + +"The Forts and Libs will make it through," Weather said with a lot of +cockiness. He was beginning to act like the rest of the gang around +headquarters who believed that the Forts and the Libs could go it alone +all the way and shoot down any number of fighters the Germans could send +up. Colonel Holt was a strong supporter for fighter cover. He was +battling for a flock of longer-range fighters that could accompany the +big fellows all the way to Berlin. The way things were going he might +not be escorting at all within a few weeks. His Third Fighter Command +might be on scouting duty. + +"We'll see what can be done about it," he said as he turned away. + +The colonel walked out of the high-ceilinged room which was buried under +thirty feet of steel reinforced concrete. He came up out of the building +into a drab night. A raw wind stabbed at him, and sent light clouds +scudding across the face of the moon. Overhead, a night fighter growled +its way through the lonely sky. The country spread around the base was +flat with only a few hills to break the sameness. + +Out on the dispersal area Colonel Holt could see guards watching the +shadowy forms of the Thunderbolts. A jeep came chugging up a muddy +street and turned off toward the mess barracks. At one-five in the +morning the base looked peaceful enough. Sheltered by darkness, its mud +ruts and half-finished buildings were softened by the gloom. Still +scowling, the colonel strode away. + +Several hours later, in a tunnel-shaped hut with a corrugated iron roof +and a cement floor, two fliers sat near a wood stove. Stan Wilson was +poking wood into the stove. + +"I wonder if anyone ever kept one of these gadgets burning all night," +he said sourly. + +"Sure, an' 'tis against the rules," Lieutenant O'Malley said and +grinned. + +"I'm beginning to think Allison showed good sense in running out on us +and joining a bomber outfit," Stan growled. "Here we are sitting up all +night keeping this stove poked full of wood." + +"That big bum," O'Malley snorted. "Only today he said that he's livin' +in a palace with a sure-enough butler to buttle." O'Malley shook his +head sadly. "The spalpeen says that butler can sure bake a foine pie." + +"On top of that we get to fly Thunderbolts for the fun of it." Stan +jabbed a slab of wood into the stove and slammed the door. + +"We've jest been havin' bad luck," O'Malley said. "I can stand a Nissen +hut jest to be flyin' one o' them babies. We'll meet up with plenty o' +Jerries." O'Malley grinned eagerly, his homely face lighting up. +"Remember how we used to mix it with them Jerry bandits tryin' to blitz +London?" + +"That was a long time ago, as wars count time," Stan answered. "We've +been away a long time. The Jerries don't get near London any more, and I +heard a rumor that the Forts and Libs are able to shoot down ten +fighters for every one the Thunderbolts get." + +O'Malley snorted. "Bombers shoot down Me 109's and FW 190's! 'Tis jest +propaganda put out by the brass hats to fool the Germans. I'll have to +see it done, me b'y." + +"From what I hear we'll probably have a reserved seat for the show. We +sit up there and watch." Stan smiled. "But we can always elbow in and +fly a Fortress or a Liberator." + +"Not me," O'Malley declared. "I'm no good at flying a milk wagon. I'll +handle me own guns." + +"Tomorrow will tell the tale. We're to get our first whack at Jerry in +this new job," Stan said. + +"Sure, an' I'd go to bed an' forget it, but the minnit I get me eyes +closed this stove goes out an' I'm freezin'," O'Malley growled. "I don't +think we'll be goin' any place. Them brass hats meet at Operation +Headquarters an' the generals call in Weather. Weather squints out +through a porthole an' says, '6/10 cloud over target.' Then the generals +up an' go back to bed." + +"We sure miss a lot of missions because of bad weather," Stan admitted. +"One of these days some fellow will invent a seeing eye sight that will +look right through the clouds." + +"You been readin' the funny books too much lately," O'Malley said. + +"Missed any of yours?" Stan laughed as he glanced toward a pile of comic +books stacked beside O'Malley's cot. + +"I think our dog robber's been snitchin' a few." O'Malley yawned and +stretched his arms over his head. They were long bony arms with huge +hands attached to them. + +"Weren't you in Berlin before the war?" Stan asked. + +"Sure," O'Malley answered. "Bein' a son of good auld Ireland, I was +itchin' to get into a fight an' it looked like the Jerries were the only +ones preparin' to do anything." + +"Why didn't you stay over there?" Stan grinned broadly as he spoke. "I +hear there are pretty girls in Berlin and that their mammas can bake +swell pies." + +O'Malley sighed deeply at the mention of pie. His big Adam's apple +bobbed up and down, then his wide mouth clamped shut. + +"Sure, an' I don't like bein' pushed around, an' I don't like to see +other folks kicked an' slugged by a lot of spalpeens dressed up in brown +shirts." + +"You may get to wave to that girl when we fly over Berlin," Stan said. + +"I could go straight to her house, only she lives a ways out of Berlin. +We used to go ridin' in the country on our bikes. Ivery lane we'd ride +down some guy in a storm trooper uniform would stop us. I kept pawin' +out me Luftwaffe card all o' the time." O'Malley grinned. + +"So you got out and joined up with the British and then with us." Stan +poked another stick of wood into the stove. + +O'Malley yawned again and eyed his cot. "If you insist on keepin' the +fire goin', I'll catch me a couple o' winks o' sleep." + +"I'll keep the joint warm," Stan agreed. + +O'Malley went over to his cot. He kicked off his shoes and crawled under +the blankets fully dressed. + +The minutes dragged away and Stan nodded beside the stove. An hour +passed and he roused himself to poke in more wood. He dozed off again +and was roused by an orderly making the rounds calling the crews. The +stove was cold and he fumbled with stiff fingers as he lighted it again. +When it was cherry red in spots, O'Malley poked his tousled head out +from under a blanket. Stan knew he had been lying there waiting for the +stove to get hot. + +They dashed water over their faces and hurried out into the raw morning. +Stan glanced at his watch. It was four o'clock. They walked to the +briefing room where they joined a crowd of pilots who were seated on +benches staring at a square of transparent talc pinned over a wall map. +Red lines showed the route of the Forts and Libs. Soon a sleepy buzz of +conversation filled the air. As the pilots talked, they watched the +little group of officers gathered before the map. + +Suddenly the Old Man, Colonel Holt, turned and faced them. There was an +immediate hush. + +"A lot of people think we just go along with the bombers to catch a bit +of fresh air and to keep from going stale. This mission promised to be +our chance to crack the enemy, but unfortunately, Weather reports clouds +up to our return point." The Old Man stared unwinkingly at his men. He +read the disappointment in their faces. "We are hoping that for once +Weather will be wrong." + +This brought a few grins and a snort or two from the pilots. The Old Man +went on talking. + +"You are to fly formation as planned. This will be strictly a team job. +There will be no free-lance hunting. Understand?" + +Everyone looked glum. O'Malley scowled. It was not his nature to like +strict rules. He had learned what he knew in the days of the Battle of +Britain and later in the South Pacific and then over Africa and Italy. +O'Malley always had been a rip-roaring fighter who accepted battle +against any odds. If trouble did not come his way, he went looking for +it. + +Stan wondered if that last warning was not aimed at O'Malley and +himself. All of the other fliers were trained to this sort of fighting. +Stan and O'Malley were the only old heads in the flight. + +O'Malley and Stan marched out with the others and climbed into heavy +flying suits. The Thunderbolts were high fliers and worked best at +twenty-three thousand feet or more. That meant heavy equipment with +oxygen and all of the other trappings, including heated undergarments. + +The pilots waddled out to their planes and climbed up. Ground crews +moved back. They had serviced and checked the fighters and now their +Pratt and Whitney twin bank radial engines were turning over smoothly. +Exhausts flared blue flames which sent wavering shadows across the wet +cement of the apron. Flight Officer Mickle was running about like an old +hen with a scattered brood of chicks. + +Stan glanced down the wet and gleaming runway. An Aldis lamp winked down +toward the shadow bar. Stan eased himself back against the shock pad. He +glanced at his temperature gauge and across his instrument board. The +throb of his Pratt and Whitney engine hinted at power, though it was +rolling over smoothly and effortlessly. Stan remembered other nights +many months past when he had sat in a Hurricane waiting for the flash of +the lamp and the order from the tower to go up through the blind alley +between the barrage balloon cables to wage unequal war against invading +Germans. Things had changed a lot since then. Now he was a part of the +Eighth Air Force of the United States Army and was fighting for his own +country as well as Britain. + +"Red Flight, check your temperatures." That was the voice of Flight +Leader Sim Jones. + +The boys checked in one at a time. + +"Up to fifteen thousand. Stay in close," Sim ordered. + +Suddenly a motor burst into full-throated roar. A dark form hurtled down +the runway and lifted like a flash. Another ship darted away, and then +another. Stan slammed his hatch cover shut and opened up his throttle. +He jammed down hard on one brake and the Thunderbolt swept around. She +poised an instant, then knifed down the slippery runway. Stan hoiked her +tail with a blast of prop pressure and hopped her off. He went roaring +out over a mobile floodlight and up into the dark sky for the rendezvous +with Red Flight. + +High above the channel, the ships of his flight tucked in and circled. +Soon they picked up the flight of Liberators and Fortresses. At +twenty-five thousand feet the big bombers left broad vapor trails behind +them. Stan looked down upon the killers from his perch in the sky. Dawn +was breaking and the scene was no longer drab. + +Red Flight was covering the flank of Second High Squadron. Stan could +clearly see Third Low Squadron and First Lead Squadron. Each squadron +was composed of a first flight of three bombers and a second flight of +three bombers. Stan grinned. He knew exactly where his pal March Allison +was flying. He was in left-hand slot, second flight, Second High +Squadron, the hottest spot in a bomber formation. + +Stan eased over a bit and shook O'Malley off his wing. Sim was waggling +his wings, ordering the boys to spread out and get set for interception. +Red Flight spread out but stayed in position like a football team moving +into formation for a screen pass. The bombers roared on toward Germany, +keeping tight formation so as to be able to lay out a deadly cross fire +from their fifty-caliber guns. Each Fort and each Lib was a bristling +pillbox with nose guns, waist guns, belly guns, and ball turret guns. +Stan wondered if he would not be flying one of the big fellows very +soon. + +Everything went off smoothly and according to plan, except that for once +Weather had missed a bet. As the flight neared the point over Germany +where the Thunderbolts were to turn back, a cold wind washed the sky +clear of clouds and a cold sun shone upon the raiders. + +"In the good auld summertime." Stan heard O'Malley humming. + +"Shut up, O'Malley," Sim grated. + +Suddenly flak began to blossom out from the countryside below. It +blossomed in the sky over the bombers and in the middle of Red Flight. +Thunderbolts ducked and dipped but went roaring on. + +Down below, the bomber boys were scanning the skies. + +In his Fort, Allison drawled over the intercom, "Pilot to navigator." + +"Go ahead, pilot." + +"Everybody set?" + +"Navigator to pilot, hot stuff coming up." + +"Right waist gunner to pilot, sir. 190's at eleven o'clock. They're +after the flight ahead." + +"Rear gunner Roger, sir. Flock of Focke-Wulfs at six o'clock. Coming in +on our tail." + +"I say, old man, don't get itchy fingers. No ammo to waste." Allison's +voice was calm and unruffled. + +O'Malley's voice broke in over Stan's headset. "Hey, sure an' we ought +to go down an' bust that up." + +"Stay where you are, O'Malley," Sim snapped. "We have plenty of Me's +coming in at twelve o'clock." + +Stan had been so busy watching the bombers he had not checked his own +part of the sky. A glance showed him Sim was correct. A flight of some +twenty Me fighters were diving and circling above. + +"Keep them up there," Sim ordered. "But stay in your slot. You happen to +be outnumbered and you also happen to have the job of seeing that those +Me's stay up there away from the bombers." + +Red Flight knifed along through the thin air, ready to smash any Me +daring to go down the chute upon the bombers. + +"Come on down and fight, ye spalpeens!" O'Malley was yelling. + +Stan saw that the Forts and Libs were slamming lead at the Focke-Wulfs +in a blaze that rivaled a Fourth of July celebration. He kept an eye on +Allison's Fort and saw an FW go down flaming after a thrust at the +bomber. Stan chuckled softly. + +"Allison got one!" O'Malley yelled. "'Tis a sad day, this, for Mrs. +O'Malley's son." + +Allison's Fort got another FW and O'Malley's flow of abuse against the +Me's increased. He was in a towering Irish rage. But it did no good. The +Me's hung on, waiting for the Thunderbolts to turn back. It was a case +of who ran short of gas first. Now "lace-panty" flak was blossoming all +over the sky. It exploded in pretty pink bursts and that was why the +boys gave it such a fancy name. + +"We have to go in," Sim ordered grimly. + +"Go in!" O'Malley bellowed. "Why not give them birds a scare anyway?" + +"We'll zoom up and scatter them," Sim said. "But any man who stays to +put on a show will have to walk back." + +Stan eased over and kicked on a bit more power. The Germans had the +attack route well charted. They knew just how far the Thunderbolts would +be able to penetrate. With a burst of speed Stan went up and over. Every +Thunderbolt did the same, but O'Malley beat them all to it. He roared +over Stan's head, almost ripping away his hatch cover. + +The Me's ducked gracefully and scattered. They looped and dived for it. +Stan saw at once the chase was hopeless. The Jerries meant to tease the +Thunderbolts deeper into Germany so that they would be sure to run out +of gas. It was infuriating, but there just was nothing that could be +done about it. Stan watched O'Malley as he roared after a Jerry. + +"Come back, Irisher. They're just tricking you out of gas," he called. + +"The spalpeens!" O'Malley roared, but he zoomed up and over, then tailed +in after Red Flight which was heading for home. + +Stan saw the Me's dive down to overtake and attack the Forts and Libs. +He had a cold, sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He still was not +convinced that the big fellows could take care of themselves. They had a +hundred miles more to cover before reaching their targets, and then +another hundred to return before fighters could meet them. + +Red Flight slid in on its home field, a sleek flight group in fine trim, +except for one slight wound. Sim's ship had picked up a small piece of +flak, but it had done no damage. Sim had it in his hand when he climbed +down and joined his men. + +"A foine battle!" O'Malley fumed. + +"I was hit," Sim said, grinning. + +"'Tis the fillin' out o' one o' yer teeth," O'Malley answered. + +"I counted eight fighters shot down by the big boys," a pilot remarked. + +"Check in all kills you observed," Sim said. "It will help the bomber +boys get credit." + +O'Malley stared gloomily up into the sky. Stan nudged him. "How about +some breakfast?" he asked. + +O'Malley brightened a bit. "I ordered a pie for breakfast," he said. "If +that cook forgot my pie, he'll be no more than a grease spot when I get +through with him." + +O'Malley got his pie, a thick apple pie dripping with juice. He cut it +into quarters, slid one slab out on his fist and began munching, paying +no attention to the dripping juice. Stan stared into his coffee cup. He +was thinking. + +O'Malley finished his second quarter of pie. He looked at Stan. + +"What you dreamin' up now?" he asked. + +Stan smiled faintly. "You know, I have a hunch we might fool those +Jerries. They have this all down to a science. A flight is reported to +their head man and he figures out just how far we can fly. If we could +do say a hundred miles more, we'd have some fun." + +"So you're goin' to order planes with a hundred more miles gas supply." +O'Malley grunted and attacked his third piece of pie. + +"We could take along emergency tanks and drop them," Stan said. + +O'Malley halted the movement of his hand. His mouth was open like a +cavern. He closed it. + +"Sure, an' 'tis a brilliant idea. We'll see the general about it as soon +as I've finished me pie." + +"No, we'll see Holt. He's our superior officer. Let him have the +credit." Stan leaned back. + +"If we tell a lot o' brass hats, the Jerries will sure hear about it," +O'Malley said sourly. + +"I think not. We have to get permission to install the tanks, you know. +This isn't the South Pacific where you just go to your ground crew and +ask them to rig up something for you." Stan laughed as O'Malley screwed +his face into a frown. + +"I'll say it's not the South Pacific," he agreed. "We got so many rules +here a fellow gets tangled up before he takes off." + +"We have lots of time on our hands. We'll barge over and have Allison +tell us what happened. He'll be back after a bit." + +O'Malley gave Stan a suspicious look. "You're not thinkin' o' askin' fer +one o' them crates full o' guns?" + +"No," Stan answered. "If I did, I doubt that they'd take me. I've been a +fighter pilot too long." + +"They took Allison," O'Malley said. + +"Allison is a natural for bombers, he has no nerves and he can handle a +crew." Stan got to his feet. "Finish your pie and we'll be on our way." + + + + +CHAPTER II + +ACTION + + +Stan and O'Malley found Allison in his comfortable quarters, an old +English mansion set on a little hill. It stood in the middle of +well-kept grounds. As they drove up in their borrowed jeep, O'Malley +scowled at the house. + +"A blinking castle," he said in mock cockney British. + +They parked the jeep and went inside. The boys were gathered around an +open fire lounging in easy chairs. Allison moved out of a huddle and +crossed the room. + +"Welcome, you wallflowers," he said with a big smile. + +"Sure, an' yer a disgrace to the both of us, lollin' in the lap o' +luxury," O'Malley answered with a big grin. + +"How was it?" Stan asked. + +"Very rugged," Allison admitted. "Sit down while I order a pie for +O'Malley." + +The boys seated themselves and Allison described the mission. He loaded +his pipe and sat staring into the fire. + +"Not much like pushing a Spitfire or a Thunderbolt. You just plow along +through the muck and hope the boys will bat down all of the fighters +coming at you from every angle." + +"How many did you get?" O'Malley asked. + +"Six for sure," Allison answered. "The real fun started when we headed +for home. We had been plowing through flak as thick as a swarm of bees +but we had been lucky. Two of our flight went down flaming and we saw +the boys bail out. I thought we were slipping through pretty nicely when +an Me winged us with an explosive cannon shell. After that we got hit +plenty. We picked up a shell which went off inside our outboard engine. +It started rolling smoke but no flames. Then a shell smashed the +intercom system and communications went dead." Allison bit down hard on +his pipe. + +"Must have been tough," Stan said. + +"We couldn't hold our altitude. We lost about a thousand feet a minute +and nothing the copilot and I could do would hold her up." + +"Sure, an' you did a good job of it gettin' in," O'Malley praised. + +"When I couldn't talk to the crew I turned the controls over to the +copilot and went aft. I got to the top turret man and told him to get +the gunners together in the radio compartment. I figured we'd smack +right down into the channel." Allison fingered his pipe and stared into +the fire. + +"I went back to the copilot and we fought her head. She sagged in over +the coast and came right on home, smoking like a torch. As we came in, +we found we had a belly landing on our hands, so we skidded her in. Poor +Old Sal is a mess right now." + +"Anybody hurt?" Stan asked. + +"Bombardier got a piece of flak in his leg. The tail gunner had his +greenhouse blown into his face and is in the hospital. I forgot to say +we dumped our guns and everything else we could pry loose. I guess that +saved us." Allison leaned back. "When you fellows going to shift over? +This is the real thing." + +"Sitting duck stuff," O'Malley snorted. "You jest sit there an' take it. +You never fired a gun on the whole trip." + +"No," Allison admitted. "But we bagged six Jerries and there was plenty +of shooting. You should see my boys work those 50's." + +"We aim to stir up a bit of excitement," Stan said. + +Allison frowned at him. "You birds better remember this is modern +warfare, not the Battle of Britain or the Pacific. They'll bounce you +high and quick for breaking rules. This Eighth Air Force is big stuff +now." + +"Thanks for the warning," Stan answered. "But we plan to go through +proper channels." + +"And it's a deep secret," O'Malley added. + +O'Malley's pie arrived and he dropped out of the talk for a time. Stan +and Allison chatted about the changes and the amazing way the Eighth had +grown up until it took a large section of British farmland to house it. + +Stan and O'Malley left early and hurried back to their own mess. They +wanted to corner Colonel Holt. They found him in the mess looking very +dour and gloomy. He was alone. None of the other men seemed to care +about trying to cheer him up. Stan and O'Malley barged over to his +table. + +"May we sit down, sir?" Stan asked. + +"Sure." Holt motioned to two chairs. + +The boys sat down. Stan ordered coffee and O'Malley ordered pie. + +"I need just a bite to get me in shape for supper," he said when Stan +glared at him as he gave his order. + +"Lousy show today," Holt grumbled. "I don't mean the way you fellows +flew it, but the way the Germans have everything figured out so neatly. +We lost eleven bombers." + +"We might fool Jerry," Stan suggested. + +"How?" + +"Suppose we just toted along some extra tanks of gas and cut them loose +about the time the show should start. We know their tactics and pattern. +We'd have a lot of fun." Stan leaned forward. + +"Can't do that," Holt said. "You fellows might have to get busy as soon +as you hit the coast. Kicking off a tank can't be done with an FW +dropping out of a cloud on your tail." + +"Just half of us will go with extra loads. The others can cover for us. +We'd sure surprise Jerry." Stan spoke eagerly. + +"Foine idea an' one I'd have been proud to have thought up," O'Malley +broke in. + +Colonel Holt began to smile. "I believe you have something there. The +element of surprise and all that sort of thing. We'll take a crack at +it." + +"Elegant," O'Malley said. "I'm speaking for extra gas." + +"You and O'Malley get extra tanks. You're both old heads at lone wolf +tactics. I'm beginning to think we have too much handling out of the +control room." He bent forward and his smile faded. "But, remember this, +I'm under a general who's a stickler for the book, so be careful." + +"We won't let you down, sir," Stan promised. + +O'Malley just grinned wolfishly. "I got a date with that Jerry with the +red beard." + +"You boys tend to the installing yourselves. Oversee it yourselves. I'll +put through an order clearing everything for you." + +"Thanks, Colonel," Stan said. "Now we'll run along and get busy." + +"First you come with me and we'll figure out how much tank capacity +you'll need and how many men will go along." The colonel got to his +feet. + +"If you don't mind, sir, we'd like to have you sponsor the idea. We +intended to take it up with Lieutenant Sim Jones first. Wouldn't want to +be going over his head." Stan spoke quickly. + +Holt looked at him and nodded. "That's fine of you boys. Mind if I claim +the idea for the present?" + +"Not in the least," Stan answered. + +"In that case you'll hear from me later through regular channels. I see +you men know your way around in this army." + +Stan and O'Malley saluted and moved off. O'Malley grinned. "Slick work, +Stan," he said. "Now we won't get blamed for anything." + +"And we won't get a medal, either," Stan remarked as he matched +O'Malley's grin. + +Returning to their Nissen hut the boys policed their living quarters and +got things in order. The hut was such a primitive affair that little +could be done to keep it in order. The round wood stove leaked ashes on +the floor which was always tracked deep with mud. There was a little +wash bowl and a table which O'Malley used to stack his laundry upon. The +cots were GI with GI mattresses. + +After they had cleaned up, the boys went over to the huge sheds where +the mechanics worked over the planes. They learned from the chief +mechanic that Colonel Holt's order had come through. + +"I have the boys on your ships," the sergeant said. He did not seem to +approve of the idea. + +"I'll be after lookin' out fer me own ship," O'Malley said and hurried +away. + +"You don't seem to like the colonel's idea," Stan said. + +"We've tried it before, sir," the sergeant replied. + +"What happened?" + +"The boys got jumped out of cloud cover and were sitting ducks for the +Jerries," the sergeant said sourly. "Too much cloud cover and too many +Jerries for that stuff." + +Stan grinned. "I'll drop around and let you know how it works this +time." + +Walking back to his ship he watched the boys working on her. He was soon +satisfied that they knew just what should be done and made off. O'Malley +did not show up at mess and Stan began to wonder where he had gone. He +finally sauntered into the rest room where he found O'Malley shooting +the breeze with a group of fliers. + +"You missed a steak dinner," Stan greeted him. + +O'Malley grinned, "That's what you think," he said. "I had me a steak +dinner with the corporal that fixed up me ship. You know that feller +hadn't had a steak for a month. He sure went for it." O'Malley seated +himself and elevated his feet to the top of the radio. In this position +he promptly went to sleep. + +Stan talked with the boys until time to turn in. He wakened O'Malley and +they sloshed through the mud to their hut. During their absence, two +other boys, replacement men, had been quartered in the hut. They greeted +the two old heads eagerly. + +They were Bugs Monahan and Splinters Wright, both from Toledo, Ohio. +They had just finished flight combat school and were eager for action. +Someone had given them the records of Stan and O'Malley. They were both +eager to talk to the veterans. Splinters was a tall, thin youth with a +little mustache. Bugs was short and fat with a round beaming face and a +quick smile. + +"We've heard a lot about you fellows," Bugs said. + +"Never believe anything you hear in the army," Stan advised with a grin. + +"Sure, an' ye've been taken in by me auld pal Goebbels," O'Malley added. + +"I'm turning in. We'll get a call along about four in the morning," +Stan said. "See you boys over at the rest room. That's where we shoot +the breeze." + +"See you at midnight when we get up to poke wood into that stove," +O'Malley contradicted. + +"We'll keep the fire going. We're not sleepy," Splinters said. They were +both disappointed that the old heads did not want to go into a gabfest. + +Stan and O'Malley turned in. They had learned to get as much sleep as +possible. The two replacements kept the fire going as they had promised, +and the boys did not waken until they were called at three-fifty the +next morning. Bugs and Splinters had gotten a little sleep. They were up +instantly and eager to trail along and see what was going to happen. + +"Ye'll soon learn to sleep when ye get a chance," O'Malley said. + +They sloshed across to the operations room and joined their flight. Maps +were ready and Colonel Holt was standing with his fellow officers. The +room was filled with a buzz of talk. Something was up and the boys knew +it. Stan and O'Malley sat in the second row with Bugs and Splinters +beside them. Stan turned to the boys. + +"When you leave here you are not to talk to anyone about the operations +planned, not even to other officers," he warned. + +"There must be something up," Bugs said. "We'll keep mum." + +"When we get back we'll give you the story," Stan promised. + +Colonel Holt began speaking, and the talking stopped. "Men, we are going +to try a different approach. Weather says we'll have clear going." His +pointer moved along a red ribbon. "The bomber objective is a fighter +station and a plant near Huls. Ordinarily we'd turn back just beyond +Antwerp. Today we'll have a flight along which will carry enough extra +gasoline to add two-hundred-twenty miles in range. I'll spot those ships +for you and it will be the job of those carrying the regulation +one-hundred-ninety gallons to protect the specials until they drop their +extra tanks." + +The pilots who were to be long-range fighters grinned happily; the +others looked their disappointment. The colonel went on giving the +details. + +"The long-range ships will deploy and go in under the leadership of +Lieutenant Wilson. He will have detailed evasion orders." + +The boys listened to the rest of the briefing impatiently. Stan stayed +after the others left. Colonel Holt went over the plan with him, then +Stan hurried out to get his group together. Sim Jones met him as he +entered the flight room. He gave Stan a cold look. + +"Did you engineer this, Wilson?" he asked. + +"I did not ask to be put in command, if that's what you mean," Stan +answered. + +"You act like you thought you had to take over here," Sim said and his +eyes blazed. + +"Wilson has forgotten more about flyin' than you'll ever know," O'Malley +cut in. "And ye better remember that." + +"Easy, now. This is a teamwork job," Stan said. "Your orders are to +cover our long-range ships. They'll be heavy and gas logged. My planes +have to get to use all of that extra gas, Sim. What we're doing is +trying to break the jinx on the fighters." + +"Yeah? It smells bad to me. I think you're trying to get yourself an +extra bar on your shoulder." + +Stan's lips pulled into a straight line. "I don't care what you think of +me, personally, but you better cover my flight, and cover it right." + +The other fliers were staring at the two officers. They had worked under +Sim Jones a long time. Stan was a newcomer the same as Colonel Holt; +both had seen much service in other theaters of war. Stan sensed that +they were siding with Sim. He turned away and began getting into his +outfit. O'Malley was beside him. + +"That bird may try something," O'Malley said out of the side of his +mouth. + +"We sure slipped up when we didn't let him tell this plan to the +colonel," Stan said sourly. + +The boys sloshed out on the field. Stan looked over the dim outlines of +the planes. He would have six ships in his penetration flight. His boys +had been carefully instructed. They were to break away and appear to +leave with the other fighters, then loop up and over and come in on the +enemy from out of the sun when he dived down after the bombers. + +One by one the Thunderbolts slipped into the raw morning darkness. Stan +eased his ship off the ground and up into the sky. He dropped into place +in Sim's flight along with O'Malley. They were separated by one ship. +The Thunderbolts carrying extra weight were spotted so they could be +covered by the others. + +Soon they picked up the Forts and Libs and were headed across the +channel toward Flushing. Day broke and they could see the bombers below +them. The air was clear and cold but there were many scattered banks of +clouds all around. Stan kept his eyes open. Today he was not watching +the beauty of the bomber formation, he was checking on his own flight of +fighters. Sim was holding his ships in perfect formation. They roared +along with Stan and his boys using gasoline from their reserve tanks so +that they could get rid of them as soon as possible. + +Their first action came near the coast. A flight of Focke-Wulf 190's +broke out of a big cloud and roared in on them. + +"Break for action. Cover specials!" Sim called. + +The formation of Thunderbolts broke up and the fight was on. As usual +the Jerries were not aiming to close with the Yanks. They were willing +to pick off a cripple or a plane cut out from the flight but not to make +it a real battle. Their job was to delay and to pull the fighters away +from the bombers. + +Sim handled the situation well. The Thunderbolts did not break away, nor +were they delayed. They met each thrust and stab, but they refused to be +pulled into side shows. For once O'Malley was ignoring a Jerry fighter. +He was well up in front heading straight for Germany. Stan was in the +rear where he had been spotted. Sim was flying his cover, having dropped +back for that purpose. + +"I guess he's all right," Stan muttered. "He's making it his personal +business to see that I get through." + +At that moment two FW's dived down at the tail ships. Stan did not shift +course. + +All Sim had to do was to make a pass at the Jerries, loop over and shoo +them away. Suddenly Stan realized Sim was not making a pass. He had +stabbed at a Jerry coming in far to the side. + +Kicking his rudder, Stan went into action. The Jerries, seeing their +chance, had cut him off and now he would be sucked into a fight. The +Thunderbolt responded awkwardly. Stan reached for the tank release, then +his hand froze. If he kicked loose his tanks, the Jerries would be wise +to the trick. They would radio the information to base. Grimly Stan +dived and then zoomed. + +The two Focke-Wulfs gleefully tore in upon him. Stan gave one of them a +burst but missed. He was caught like a clumsy float plane and knew it. +Up he went and over, using every evasive trick he knew. Out of the +corner of his eye he saw that Sim had banked sharply and was coming back +to help him. He also spotted the cloud the Jerries had used to ambush +the flight. As he laid over and made for it, one of the FW's knifed in +and splattered him with lead. He felt the bullets pinging against his +armor plate and ripping through his wings. Ducking, he went down under +the cloud, just what the Jerry wanted. + +Sim had cut out one of the FW's but two others had joined the hunt, bent +on finishing the Thunderbolt they had cut off. Stan laid over and +wobbled around just as though he was hit bad. The Jerry banked and went +up a bit to get a better dive. He figured he had plenty of time because +the Yank was crippled. That was what Stan wanted. He kicked the +Thunderbolt wide open and zoomed for the cloud. Too late the Jerry saw +what was up. He roared down through the misty edge of the cloud and +barely missed a head-on crash with Stan. + +The instant the cloud closed around him Stan kicked off his extra tanks, +then he dived up and over the cloud. The Jerries were waiting for him. +Sim was chasing one FW, but three waited for the cripple. When Stan came +zooming out of the top of the cloud, they were a bit startled and showed +it by their hesitation. Stan grinned as he snapped his ship over and +dived on the nearest Jerry. + +Before the German could get going Stan had him in his sights and his +thumb had squeezed the gun button. His six 50's flamed and the recoil +set the Thunderbolt back on her flaps. The Jerry shuddered an instant, +then broke in two and burst into roaring flames. Stan went over the +wreckage and cut in between the other two Jerries. They were alive now +and in action. Around the three went, up and over, painting the chill +sky with streaks and loops of vapor. Stan did not hold on long. The +instant he had a chance to dive and run for it he did. And the Jerries +did not chase him. They were convinced he was no cripple. + +As Stan roared after his formation he saw Sim closing in from far to his +left. He was red-hot and wanted to tell Sim a few things, but he knew +the setup was such that he had to keep his mouth closed. Sim had made an +error of judgment in going after the lone Jerry and letting the other +two cut him out. Stan was sure it was intentional, but he could never +prove it. + +Another thing that worried him was that he did not know how much +gasoline he had used out of his reserve before he kicked his tanks +loose. He was flight leader of the group headed for Huls. If he went on +with his flight and there was much dogfighting, going and coming, he +might not get home. Sim's voice came in. + +"Wilson, sorry I couldn't handle all three Jerries. You'll have to go +back with our flight." + +Stan scowled. Sim appeared well pleased with the idea. "I'll use my own +judgment," Stan snapped back. + +"Name a leader and go back," Sim barked. "That is an order." + +"Sorry," Stan answered. "I'm taking the boys on through." + + + + +CHAPTER III + +HULS + + +Stan overtook his formation and dropped into place. The flight was +deployed with the Jerries perched up above and around waiting for the +Yanks to go home. Below lay the fields of Holland. + +"Are you clear, specials?" Stan called. + +"All clear," the boys called back. That meant they had zoomed down and +ditched their tanks in a way the Germans would not notice. + +Flak was coming up and a flight of FWs were worrying the Fortresses and +Liberators below. One big fellow was out of formation and having a tough +time. Fifteen FW's were after it. + +"We'll go down and have a crack at those FW's on that Fort," Stan +called. "So long, Sim, see you at mess!" + +One after another the six special Thunderbolts zoomed down upon the +FW's. They came down in a screaming dive and their first burst sent five +FW's smoking to earth. Instantly the whole battle changed. The flocks of +Jerries up above were taken by surprise because this was not according +to the book. The Yanks should be keeping altitude, holding them pinned +to the sky, and they were due any moment to start running for home. + +Stan and his crew covered the limping bomber and she began to pull up +into place where her flight had slowed to help her. Up above, the +Jerries cut loose and the Yanks got a crack at them as they tried to +filter through. For five minutes the sky was a battlefield, then the +Thunderbolts up above had to leave. They broke off and headed for home. +Behind them they left the wreckage of eleven Messerschmitts and +Focke-Wulfs. + +With the bombers, O'Malley was putting on a show which reminded Stan of +the old days. He was stunting so wildly and slamming lead so fast the +Jerries began giving him a wide berth. Stan began to realize that their +mission was not to be any picnic. One Thunderbolt went down, slashed +open by a cannon shell. No chute blossomed out beneath it as it twisted +and rolled toward earth. + +There were too many Me's and Focke-Wulf fighters. They were everywhere, +stabbing and diving, slashing at the bombers and ganging up on the +fighters. Stan realized that his flight should have had at least thirty +planes in it, and he began to suspect someone back at headquarters had +marked this down as an experiment, figuring upon losing only six planes. + +Another Thunderbolt went down and then another. O'Malley was still +taking care of himself and Stan was doing all right, but his gasoline +gauge was leering at him and its needle was rolling steadily around. +When the fourth Thunderbolt broke into flames, Stan knew it was time to +go home. He probably would not make it, but there was a chance. + +"O'Malley! Stan calling. Head for home!" + +Looking through the smoke and the bursts of flak, Stan saw nothing of +O'Malley. The Irishman had been in the midst of a fight a few minutes +before, but now he was nowhere to be seen. He checked the bomber flight. +It was going in for its bombing run and the batteries on the ground knew +just where the automatic pilots would take over for the run. They were +putting up a box barrage at that point. + +The Forts and the Libs rode into that blazing inferno of fire without +wavering or shifting formation. Stan saw bombs dropping, sticks of big +fellows. A Fort directly below him was plowing ahead when a puff of +smoke enveloped its tail. The smoke swirled away and there was the Fort +without any tail at all, only gaping holes where the rudder and the high +tail had been. The Fort sagged over and went into a terrible dive. One +after another chutes blossomed out until Stan had counted six. That was +the number alive in the Fort, the others were dead. + +Stan laid over and made a sweep, ducking in and out of the flak. The +Jerries had pulled away and gone back to their fields for more +ammunition and more gasoline for the interception of the Forts and Libs +on their return trip. + +Looking about, Stan saw nothing of O'Malley's ship. He headed for home +with a grim frown on his face. Everything went well until he reached the +channel. He met no German fighters and had a fair tail wind. But his +gasoline supply was very low. The needle kept bouncing off the empty +peg, riding clear, then dropping back. The English coast was a long way +off. + +Stan was flying at twelve thousand feet and that gave him a chance to +drift a long way, but not far enough if his gas ran out. Steadily he +drove toward the friendly shore. Below him the channel looked cold and +choppy. + +Thinking of O'Malley added to his gloom. When you work with a man in the +air, you expect the day when he does not return with you. But when the +time comes it is a stabbing shock. Stan and O'Malley had seen so much +action and had tackled so many tough jobs, they had come to feel they +always would pull through. + +Glancing at the gas gauge Stan saw that it registered empty, and the +needle was not showing any signs of movement. He glanced down at the +gray expanse below him and frowned. His ears strained for the first +break in the steady throbbing of the Pratt and Whitney radial. + +The engine kept hammering away for a long time. Stan checked his Mae +West suit and made other small preparations for a bath in the channel. +Then the engine sputtered, smoothed out, then sputtered again. With a +wheezing blast it went dead. + +Stan eased the nose down to hold his speed and began sagging down a long +slope toward the channel. He scanned the choppy sea for signs of a +British patrol boat. Several of the fast rescue boats should be +patrolling the flight line, ready to fish Yank pilots and crewmen out of +the water. He saw no sign of a boat. + +Slowly the Thunderbolt settled down. Floating a fourteen-thousand-pound +fighter in over a long distance is not like slipping along in a glider. +If there were any up-drafts, the Thunderbolt paid no attention to them. +She sliced on through and Stan had to nose her down to keep her from +falling like a rock. + +The sea came up to meet him and he began judging the spot where he would +take his bath in the icy water. Suddenly he heard the roar of plane +motors and looked up and back. A Fort was nosing down toward him. Stan +squinted to see if he could catch the markings. He could not make them +out, but he knew the ship was a bomber returning from Huls. + +There was no time for further looking. The Thunderbolt hit and hit hard, +as though she had slammed into a stone wall. She slewed around, jerked +and bobbed, slamming Stan back against his shock pad. He palmed the +hatch cover open and kicked loose from his belt and chute harness. In a +moment he was leaping into the water and the Thunderbolt was swirling +down into the sea. She lifted one wing as she slid from sight, as though +saluting him. + +"Tough luck, old girl," Stan said. He got a mouthful of salt water and +began sputtering. + +The Fort was low over the sea now and Stan saw that it was shot up a +bit. Then he saw the name painted on its fuselage. It was The Monkey's +Paw, the Fort Allison had taken over for the raid. He waved, and the +Fort dipped her wings. She went roaring on toward the thin black line +which was the coast. + +That meant rescue unless the high waves battered him and pulled him +under before a boat located him. He was struggling to stay afloat on the +rough sea when a Spitfire began circling overhead. The Spit dropped down +lower and lower. It wove back and forth and finally it dived toward him. +Stan waved some more. + +The Spit stayed with Stan until an orange-snouted speedboat appeared +over the foam-rimmed horizon. The boat came roaring toward him, guided +by the Spit. Stan grinned eagerly. Nice teamwork. Allison had radioed, +the Spitfire pilot had picked up the message, and he had been rescued. + +The speedboat pulled alongside and strong hands caught hold of Stan. + +"Up you come, me hearty," a seaman shouted. + +Stan was so chilled he had to hang on to the arm of the sailor to keep +his knees from buckling. + +"A bit chilly, eh?" a young officer asked. "Come along. We'll wrap you +in a newfangled blanket your Uncle Sam just furnished us." + +"It wasn't exactly a Turkish bath," Stan admitted. + +"I'll radio in for an ambulance," the officer said as he helped Stan +wiggle out of his soggy clothes and into the electrically heated +blanket. + +"No ambulance," Stan said. "I'll catch a ride over to my base with +someone." + +"The ambulance is the fastest way," the officer said. + +"They'd take me to a hospital, and that's the last place I want to see. +Just dry my outfit if you can." + +"Glad to, old fellow, and we'll have a spot of hot tea ready for you in +a jiffy." The officer turned away. + +Stan drank hot tea and toasted himself inside the blanket until they +were near the port where they were to put in. By that time his clothing +had been dried by one of the machinist mate's men in the engine room. + +Getting dressed Stan went on deck. They were edging in beside a pier. +Stan was the first over the side. He shook hands with the British +officer and waved to the crew, then he headed for a row of cars parked +along the street near the wharf. Picking out a car with a uniformed girl +at the wheel he walked over to it. + +"Hi, Yank," the girl greeted him. "You look a bit wrinkled." + +"I just had my daily bath in the channel." Stan grinned at the girl. "My +butler forgot to pack my bathing suit so I went in as is. How about a +lift?" + +"This is Sir Eaton Pelham's car. I'm afraid it isn't available." She +smiled sweetly when she said it. + +Stan glanced at the other cars. There were no other drivers about. He +looked back at the girl. + +"Sir Eaton a kindhearted man?" he asked. + +"Very," she assured him. "He carries a pocketful of cracker crumbs for +the pigeons." + +At that moment Sir Eaton Pelham appeared. He was a burly Englishman, +wrapped snugly in the folds of a greatcoat. His ruddy face beamed and he +nodded to Stan. + +"Jolly nice weather for one day," he said as he opened the door of the +car. + +"Very," Stan answered. "How about a lift?" + +Sir Eaton looked at Stan closely for the first time. "I say, a Yank +flier. What could you be doing here?" + +"I was just fished out of the channel by one of His Majesty's patrol +boats and want to get back to base." + +"Hop in, old man. Where is base?" + +"Take me to Diss," Stan said as he climbed in. + +"Right-o." Sir Eaton did not ask any more questions. He spoke about the +country they whirled through, but never mentioned the war at all. When +Stan got down at Diss, Sir Eaton waved his thanks aside. "Good hunting, +my boy," he said. Turning to his driver he said, "Whitehall, London. +We'll have to hit it a bit fast to be on time for my meeting." + +Stan stood staring at the car as it whirled away. "Whitehall," he +muttered. "Pelham." Suddenly he began to laugh. He had hitched a ride +with one of Winston Churchill's right-hand men. And he had taken the +honorable assistant secretary many miles out of his way. + +Hailing a jeep Stan hooked a ride to the camp. He walked into operations +and up to the desk. A major looked up and then started. + +"Wilson!" he exclaimed. "We had you marked down as lost. Sim Jones +reported you short of gas." + +"I hitchhiked back. Caught a ride with one of Churchill's secretaries," +Stan said dryly. + +The major looked at him sharply, then shoved a pad across the desk. +"Just put that in writing," he said. + +Stan made his report, then headed for his hut to change into an +unwrinkled uniform. There was no one in the hut, but his things and the +belongings of O'Malley had been neatly stacked. Stan scowled. + +"They gather a man's stuff up in a hurry around here," he muttered. + +He put his own things back and did the same with O'Malley's. There would +be no rush about making O'Malley out a dead man. Getting into his +uniform he headed for the mess. He was suddenly very hungry. + +Walking into the little dining room he halted and his mouth dropped +open. At a table, with four youngsters listening open-mouthed to his +talk, sat O'Malley. He looked up and for a moment held a big piece of +steak poised on his fork. Then he shoved the steak into his mouth and +waved a big hand. + +Stan crossed the room and seated himself. There was no warm greeting. +O'Malley swallowed his steak and grinned at his pal. + +"Ye're a bit late, but in time for the pie course." + +"I took a bath on the way back," Stan said. + +"That spalpeen--" + +"Now, now," Stan cut in. "No names named." + +"I said a spalpeen let you down," O'Malley growled. + +"And what happened to you?" + +O'Malley grinned. "Me? Oh, I had the boys tuck an extra sixty gallons o' +gas aboard. The colonel said we was to handle fixing the tanks, so I +fixed mine like that." + +"You dropped out of sight at Huls in a hurry," Stan said. + +"I ran out of ammunition, and havin' a spot of extra gas, I did a bit o' +sight-seein'," O'Malley explained. "An' did I get an eyeful!" + +The four youngsters sighed and got to their feet. It was time for them +to shove off. + +"See you when I got time to tell you how I chased a Nazi birdman right +down on a British landing strip," O'Malley called after them. + +"You've been stringing the kids along," Stan said. + +"I gave them only a bird's-eye view o' the life o' the great O'Malley." +The Irishman leaned back and surveyed the platter where the steak had +been. "Now jest a wee bit of apple pie an' I'll have the edge taken off +me hunger." + +He ordered a whole pie. Stan ordered a steak and coffee. As soon as the +orders were placed before them, O'Malley leaned forward. + +"Sure, an' I saw the strangest sight today," he began. "I wouldn't have +believed it if I hadn't seen it." + +"What was it?" + +"I was flittin' along over the tops o' trees an' the spires o' kirks +when I zoom out over a wooded slope with a big cleared field in the +middle o' the woods. There on that field was at least seventy Jerry +fighter planes." O'Malley paused to cram a large bite of pie into his +mouth. + +"Fighter field. Did you get its location?" + +"Sure. An' I thought I'd give those fellers a grand scare. There wasn't +a plane in the air, so I was safe. I zoomed up an' over an' came down in +a dive." O'Malley paused and shook his head. "You'd never believe it. I +could hardly believe me own eyes. When I came back down to scare the +daylights out o' them Krauts, there wasn't a plane on that field. They +just vanished." O'Malley looked hard at his pie and kept on shaking his +head. + +"It's all right to tell that yarn to me, but don't ever tell it to a +general," Stan said. "Did they all take to the air?" + +"Nary a plane in the air. It's some black magic them Krauts have +conjured up, if ye ask me." + +It was clear that O'Malley was in dead earnest. Stan believed O'Malley +had seen the planes. He also believed there was some trick the Germans +had worked out to hide their fighter fields and to protect them. + +"We'll have another look," O'Malley said. "I have the place spotted." + +"Being able to get fighters out of sight so quickly would account for +our not being able to knock out their fighter fields," Stan said. "We'll +have to give this some thought." + +"It ought to get us special duty," O'Malley said. + +"I'll bet you slipped inside their warning system and caught them +flat-footed. But there must be some way they get parked planes moved so +fast." + +"We'll be the b'ys to find that out," O'Malley answered. + +"I doubt if we ever make anybody swallow your story," Stan said. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +SCOUTING MISSION + + +Stan and O'Malley had a visitor that night. Allison drove over to see +them. Looking around the Nissen hut, he grinned broadly. + +"Sure, an' I'll call the butler," O'Malley said. "He just stepped into +the drawin' room." + +"Sit down, pal." Stan motioned toward one of the cots. + +"Homey spot you have here," Allison observed. + +"How did it go today?" Stan asked. + +"You fellows did a swell job, but why only six fighters?" Allison's +smile had faded. + +"The brass hats knew I was goin' along," O'Malley replied. + +"One of those little experiments," Stan explained grimly. + +"Pretty expensive try, I'd say," Allison answered. + +"O'Malley spotted a big fighter base all equipped with vanishing +planes." Stan got to the point he wanted to discuss at once. + +"There must be dozens of them, but we have never been able to spot any +of them to knock them out. Those Me's and FW's just sprout out of the +ground as we go along." Allison frowned and shook his head. "If we could +spot the fields, we could send out separate missions ahead of a raid and +knock off those fields." + +"O'Malley says they snap the planes out of sight in less than a minute. +He slipped in over one of them, circled, and when he came back there +wasn't a plane in sight." + +"I figure there were at least seventy planes parked when I popped in +over the field. When I came back over they were gone." O'Malley shook +his head. + +"Think anyone would believe such a yarn?" Stan asked. + +"Every bomber pilot and crew member would believe it," Allison said +grimly. "Why don't you report it and ask for a chance to check up?" + +"I've already gone over the head of Sim Jones once and got socked for +it," Stan said. "But O'Malley ought to report it." + +"Sure, an' I'll be after seein' Colonel Holt meself." O'Malley ran his +fingers through his mop of red hair. "I'd as soon have this Jones bird +after me as not." + +After that the talk got around to the raid on Huls. Allison's ship had +come through with only a few bullet holes. His bombardier had laid their +eggs squarely on a factory building. It had been a good show for the +Forts and Libs. + +"What I'm worried about," Allison said as he got ready to leave, "is +that the Wellingtons and Lancasters will blow Berlin off the map before +we are able to penetrate that far." + +"Them nighthawks?" O'Malley showed his scorn by frowning savagely. +"Flyin' boxcars!" + +"They haul a lot of TNT and they get through, to their targets, but +there'll be a lot of stuff for the precision sights of the Forts and +Libs," Stan said. "You notice when they want important targets like +locks or sub pens or carefully placed factories they send you boys to +get them." + +"I know, old man," Allison said with a grin. "But I'd like to make the +Berlin run." + +"With those hidden fighter fields out of the way you could go in and out +alone," Stan pointed out. "The way it is now, they keep sending up +fighters all along the route." + +"I have to run for it," Allison said. "Pilots meeting." + +After he had gone Stan and O'Malley headed for Colonel Holt's office. +Bugs and Splinters came in just as they were leaving. They were both +highly excited. They had been assigned to active duty. Stan smiled at +them but he was thinking that they were taking the places of the men who +had been in his flight. + +The boys were waiting for the colonel when Sim Jones came out of a side +door. He paused for a moment. Stan eyed him coldly; O'Malley walked on +into the colonel's office without speaking. + +"I suppose you think I deliberately tricked you, Wilson. You're headed +for the Old Man." His lips pulled tight. "I don't blame you, but I +didn't pull that stunt to get you cut out. It was a boner on my part." + +"It was," Stan agreed dryly. "And I'm not squawking to the colonel." + +Sim looked Stan in the eye; he flushed a deep red. "I figured I was so +good I could cut back and take out all three Jerries." + +"Forget it," Stan said and grinned. "We all pull 'em." + +Sim turned and hurried away without another word. Stan was still smiling +as he entered the colonel's office. O'Malley scowled up at him. + +"Did you bop him one?" he asked. + +The colonel was seated at his desk. He looked from Stan to O'Malley and +lifted his eyebrows. + +"No," Stan said. "I made a date to have lunch with him." + +O'Malley's eyes opened wide. The colonel leaned back. "Go ahead with +your story, Lieutenant," he said. + +O'Malley finished his story and the colonel considered the matter for a +few minutes. + +"It sounds fantastic," he finally said. "But it fits in very neatly with +what we have been able to learn about German fighter tactics. I think we +should look into it. I'll let you men know what I plan to do." + +"Could we have any special assignment growing out of this?" Stan asked. + +"You will get the special assignment," the colonel promised. + +"Thank you, sir," Stan answered as he got to his feet. + +They saluted and left the office. O'Malley was still in a sour mood. + +"You made up with that Jones bird?" + +"I did," Stan said. "Now let's head for the mess." + +When they entered the mess, the boys greeted them warmly and crowded +around. There was no trace of resentment or jealousy. The fellows were +eager to know what had happened over Huls. Stan and O'Malley were the +only two pilots to get back. Sim sat at a table alone. + +Stan talked with the boys a while, then walked over to where Sim was +seated. He pulled out a chair and sat down. + +"Mind if I join you?" he asked. + +"Glad to have you," Sim said and meant it. + +After a bit O'Malley came over. He had noticed that Stan and Sim were +laughing over something and he did not know what to make of it. + +"Sit down," Stan greeted him. "Have a pie on me." + +"Sure, an' I'll do that," O'Malley said. He sat down and waited to hear +what he could. + +Stan and Sim laughed and talked and finally O'Malley joined in. It was +clear that the boys had buried the hatchet, so he saw no reason for +being grumpy. Besides, the cook had just made some blueberry pies and +they were extra tasty. + +After mess Stan got a call from Colonel Holt and hurried off, leaving +O'Malley and Sim together. The colonel had two officers with him when +Stan went in to see him. + +"General Ward and Major Kulp," the colonel said. "This is Lieutenant +Wilson." + +The men shook hands and all sat down. The colonel passed several papers +across to Stan. + +"You are on special detail. You'll be equipped with P-51 ships and have +a flight of three. General Ward suggests you do a bit of rhubarb +raiding." + +"Thank you, sir. These 51's are the new long-range fighters?" + +"They have the same range as the Libs and Forts." The colonel smiled. +"But we have only a few of them. Later, perhaps, we'll have a great +many." + +"Check carefully on location and construction of fields. Each ship has a +camera to record the details of any fields you locate." General Ward +spoke in a Texas drawl. + +"Don't trust the cameras entirely. Get down low and see all you can," +the major added. + +"The third pilot, who is he?" Stan asked. + +"Did you have a man in mind?" Colonel Holt asked. + +"Yes, sir." + +"I should have consulted you, but I already have promised a man the +job." + +"Who is he?" Stan asked, trying not to show his disappointment. + +"Lieutenant Jones." + +Stan began to grin. "The same man I had in mind," he said. + +"Good. Now take over." + +Stan hurried away. He found the boys listening to the radio in the rest +room. At his nod O'Malley and Sim joined him at a reading table. + +"We get special rhubarb detail," he said. + +"Foine," O'Malley said eagerly. "Only we'll never be able to fly far +enough into Kraut territory to see anything." + +"I get to go along?" Sim asked. + +"Colonel's orders," Stan said and grinned. "And we get P-51 ships with +the same range as the Forts." + +"Sure, an' we'll fly to Berlin," O'Malley said. + +"You better be thinking about locating that airfield," Stan answered. +"There was a general at the meeting I just left." + +"As long as he won't be askin' to go along, it's all right," O'Malley +said. + +"Now let's get some shut-eye." Stan got to his feet. + +In the operations room the next morning, their papers were ready and +they headed out on the field where three big Mustangs stood ready and +warmed up. They were powerhouses with wicked armament and plenty of +wingspread. In addition to wing guns, they had bomb racks which were +fitted with extra gasoline tanks. + +"Sure, an' they're one-man bombers," O'Malley crowed. + +"They weren't built for hedge-hopping, but the major said they could do +about four hundred miles per hour on the treetop level," Stan explained. + +Sim whistled. "Wait until the Eighth gets a flock of these," he said. + +"You plot the course, O'Malley," Stan said. "We'll stay in close until +we start down over Germany, then we'll keep within striking distance to +cover each other. We're camera equipped but we have to use our eyes, +too." + +The boys climbed up and got settled. Control gave Stan clearance and he +called to his flight. + +"Rhubarb Raid, check temperatures. Sim, take off first. Rendezvous at +twenty thousand." + +Stan leaned back and checked his instruments. He watched Sim slide away +and shoot skyward. The 51's were plenty fast. O'Malley went off next and +was in the air almost at once. Stan kicked his throttle open and roared +after his pals. The Mustang hopped off as though she weighed only a few +pounds instead of three tons or more. + +The three P-51's slipped into close formation and headed out across the +channel. The day was a good one for reconnaissance, because there were +many banks of clouds at high level with a very high ceiling. Stan kept +his eyes open for enemy interceptors. He half hoped a few Me's would +spot them so that they could try out the new ships. No fighters were +seen until they reached the mouth of the Rhine. + +Below them they could see Rotterdam and beyond, Gorinchem. O'Malley was +wagging his wings, signaling to go down. The fighters they spotted, +three in number, did not try to intercept them. + +Stan signaled back and they all peeled off. The P-51 went down smoothly +but with a swift rush that set Stan back against the shock pad. He had +to ease on a bit more power to stay with O'Malley who was trying his +ship out. + +At five thousand feet they flattened out a quarter mile apart and +stalled in toward a line of trees and a windmill. O'Malley brushed the +sails of the mill as he swept over it. They were close to the ground +now, flipping along like cotton dusters on a Texas plantation. O'Malley +was hugging the ground, popping over trees and sliding between +buildings. Stan saw the white faces of people as they looked up. Most of +them waved to the ship with the United States insignia. They were Dutch +farmers. + +The three ships hedge-hopped on over the low country. O'Malley held a +speed that made the ground blur and waver. It also made dodging power +lines and missing church steeples exciting business. Stan raked a +pennant off the top of a building without seeing the building at all. +After that he called to O'Malley. + +"Hey, you. Get up a bit!" + +"Sure, an' the scenery is foine down here," O'Malley called back. But he +did take a little more altitude. + +They roared in over Germany and headed for Huls. Twice they were blasted +by machine guns, but they were flying so low the German detector system +had not spotted them. They were put down as Mosquito bombers out hunting +locomotives and trains: + +"We're coming in now," O'Malley called. + +He had swung wide of Huls and was headed for some low hills. Knifing +over the the nearest hill, with their bellies scraping the tops of a row +of trees, the three P-51's nosed into a little valley. + +Suddenly Stan saw the airfield O'Malley had spotted. In a snap guess he +placed the number of planes lined up at one hundred. They were in a +long row at the base of a hill. Runways led out to a wide flight strip. + +"Strafe them!" he shouted. + +The order was not necessary. O'Malley and Sim were going straight down +the line of planes, their guns blasting flame and lead. The target was +so narrow that Stan had to stall and slip a bit to drop behind in order +to get a shot at the line. + +The Mustangs went over so fast the Germans did not have time to fire a +shot at them. Not a plane moved, except those which blew up or burst +into flames under the withering fire from the Yank guns. Up the P-51's +went and over the ridge. They were roaring along at such a pace that it +took a long zoom and bank to get lined up for a return trip. + +When they came back over, the Germans were ready for them. Smoke makers +were billowing thick haze over the scene and every imaginable sort of +gun was slamming lead and steel into the sky. The air above the field +was thick with flaming muck. O'Malley was out in front with Sim close +off his port wing. He went into the muck low down. Stan came in a bit +behind his pals. + +Looking down into the flaming muzzles of the guns Stan stared hard. +There wasn't a plane in sight! Not even the burning ships or those +blasted to bits could be seen. There was nothing but the green slope of +the hill and the smooth runways leading to the flight strip. + +"Well, what do you know!" he muttered. + +At that instant the muck enveloped him along with the pall of smoke from +the edges of the field. Just ahead of him he saw something that looked +like a huge rocket lift toward Sim's ship. It exploded with a blinding +flash directly under the P-51. Sim's ship shot upward and a wing swirled +away like a dark strip of paper torn from a wall. Then the P-51 nosed +into the ground and exploded. Cold sweat broke out all over Stan's body +as he pulled his ship over and up. + +At five thousand feet up and well away from the hot spot, Stan took +stock. He tried to call O'Malley and found his radio was shot out. +Looking through his spattered hatch cover, he saw that his port wing +had three gaping holes in it. But the engine was singing sweetly. His +first thought was to locate O'Malley, but he had another when he spotted +three Focke-Wulf fighters roaring in on his tail. + +"We'll see what you have to offer, sister," he said softly as he kicked +the Mustang wide open and laid her over. + +The big ship responded with a surge of power that yanked her into the +sky and over in a perfect roll before Stan could decide what was going +on. Leveling off, Stan looked for the FW's. They had missed him by a +wide margin. Stan grinned. + +"You don't need a pilot, lady," he said. + +Coming over he tried a burst on one of the FW's. It was a long shot, but +the Jerry was lined up neatly in his sight. The heavy guns of the P-51 +roared and bucked. Up ahead the FW wobbled and dived. The other two went +up for altitude. Stan went up, too. The P-51 was a high-altitude lady +and would do better up where she had rare air and plenty of space. + +Stan eased away from the FW's and did not challenge them. They circled, +taking a good look at this new type of fighter. They had learned from +sad experience that any new Yank ship might prove to be deadly. The +Forts had taught them that. + +Stan was well up now where he could look down on the flight strip below. +He saw nothing of O'Malley but he did see two wrecked planes at the far +edge of the field away from the hill. Nosing down Stan dived toward the +field. The two FW's dived after him, but he soon eased away from them. + +Sweeping in a few yards above the runway, Stan laid over just a little. +He checked the wrecks and saw that one of them was Sim's ship. The other +was an FW fighter minus one wing. The Germans behind their hidden +batteries opened up with a savage burst of fire. Stan went straight +toward the hill, flying low to keep out of the flak. As he shot up off +the runway he stared hard at the hillside ahead, then blinked his eyes. + +"So," he said softly. "So that's the way it is." + +He went up and over the hill, spiraling into the sky in a climb steeper +than any ship had ever carried him. The FW's had been joined by five Me +110's, but the Jerries did not close with him. Stan headed for home as +fast as the P-51 could travel, which topped four hundred miles per hour +by a wide margin. + +He was roaring along with no opposition in sight and a clear sky around +him when he suddenly spotted a plane in his mirror. It was overhauling +him rapidly. Suddenly Stan grinned. He eased back on the throttle and +waggled his wings as O'Malley roared over him. Picking up speed, he +dropped in beside his pal and signaled that his radio was dead. They +roared on home, wing to wing. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +HIDDEN DROMES + + +Stan sat at Colonel Holt's desk along with O'Malley. It had taken them +just twenty minutes to get from the operations room to the colonel's +office. Holt had called in Major Kulp of the photography wing and +General Ward from the command staff. + +"When I came in to check the wrecked planes," Stan said, "I was able to +see how they do it. They have a screen on tracks. It is covered over +with brush and leaves and looks from any angle, except squarely in +front, like the side of the hill. They just roll it out and it covers +the planes." + +"You wrecked quite a few of them on the ground?" the general asked. + +"We must have smashed at least half of them," Stan answered. "But the +part that interested me most was the underground hangars. The screen is +only a temporary camouflage. The planes are snapped back into the +underground hangar. I say we got about half of them, because the wrecked +ones were still out under the screen. The others had been pulled back." + +"We can bomb those hangars out," the colonel said. + +"I don't think so," Stan said. "I judge there's a full forty feet of +earth over them as a roof, and I suppose there's at least ten feet of +concrete under that." + +"That would make them safe. Have any any ideas for handling them?" +General Ward bent forward eagerly. + +"Yes," Stan replied. "We could skip-bomb them." + +"Skip-bomb?" Major Kulp asked. + +"Bounce our bombs right into the open end of the hangar," Stan said, +grinning. + +"It might work," Colonel Holt said. + +"The P-51's carry bombs, and I'm sure the boys could rig them so that we +could fly at the right angle to bounce them into the hangars. If we went +across once, they'd have the ships pulled back in and we'd get most of +them." + +"We'll try it," the general said. "Wilson, you will have charge of the +flight." + +"It will be tough going. We lost Jones today and O'Malley and I were +just lucky. We both had our ships shot up badly." + +"Chances we have to take," Colonel Holt said gravely. "Are you sure +Jones was killed?" + +"I saw his ship hit by what looked like a rocket shell," Stan said. "I +went into the smoke and did not see it until I flew over it on the +ground." + +Silence followed this remark. Finally the colonel spoke. "We'll report +him missing in action and hope for the best." + +"Sure, an' I'm thinkin' the Jerries were plenty mad," O'Malley said +grimly. + +"The thing to do is to check with bomber operations and locate the spots +where they run into the most fighters. Then scout those areas with +low-level flights. When we locate a set of runways near a hill, we'll +check. After the data is in we'll try Lieutenant Wilson's skip-bombing +tactics. But we want to make a clean-up, for once we let them know how +we do it they'll rig up a defense." The general rose to his feet. "I'll +let you know, Colonel, what plans my office makes." + +"You have pictures of the hangars?" the major asked eagerly. + +"I'm afraid I forgot all about your cameras when I came in over the +runway," Stan replied. "I was really looking for Sim and O'Malley." + +"You fighter pilots always forget the cameras," the major said sourly. +"Well, we'll check what you did get." + +"'Tis about time to be eatin'," O'Malley put in anxiously. + +"In that case, Colonel, we'll run along," Stan said with a grin. + +Colonel Holt looked at O'Malley sternly. "Food is a secondary matter +right now, but you may go." + +"Thank you, sor," O'Malley said. "It's very important to me." + +The colonel looked at O'Malley's lank and bony frame and smiled. He +turned back to his desk, and Stan and O'Malley hurried away. + +"I thought you had to have water to do this here skip-bombing," +O'Malley said when they were outside. + +"It can be done on land, too. Our boys can rig a delayed fuse and we can +roll the eggs right back into the nests," Stan explained. + +"We'll have fun," O'Malley chuckled. "In no time at all we'll be over +Berlin." + +During the next week, scouting flights from the Eighth Air Force field +and from other fields near by were made on a pattern. Long-range P-51's +and swift Mosquito bombers went out. They searched a wide band of enemy +territory and made many photographs. Every landing strip, even though it +appeared to be only an emergency runway, was checked and photographed. +Then the boys were called in. The fields had been spotted and their +underground hangars located. It was time to strike. + +Stan and O'Malley sat in the operations room looking at a big map. +Colonel Holt stood before the map with his staff. The men leaned forward +eagerly. For several days they had been practicing a new type of +bombing with fighters, a skip method. The colonel pointed to the map. + +"There are many flights going out at daylight. Ours is just one of them, +but we have been assigned to destroy the largest of the fighter bases +near Berlin. You all know the tactics. There will be thirty planes in +your flight. This is a teamwork job." He paused and looked over the +eager faces before him. + +The men began to breathe easier as the colonel went on. They knew what +they were up against. There would be a long flight during which they +would avoid fights in the air. Then there would be a sudden attack to be +staged just at dawn. That attack would be rugged going and a lot of them +would never come back. + +When the briefing was over, they crowded out of the room and into the +mess for hot coffee and sandwiches. There was little talking. This was +the hour of tension. Weather still had to come through with reports and +the men had learned that Weather often let them down. Being let down +after getting keyed up for a dangerous mission was worse than going +out. + +But Weather did not let them down. They got their clearance without +delay and headed for the ready room. Eagerly they scrambled into their +outfits, then barged out into the night. Stan and O'Malley walked side +by side. + +"We fly the tail slot," Stan said. "That means some hot going." + +"'Tis as good as any," O'Malley answered as he headed for his plane. +"See you at breakfast." + +Like huge night birds the P-51's took off and headed east. Stan watched +the flare of their exhausts as they flamed down the runways and lifted +into the dark sky. + +"O'Malley ready, Wilson stand by." + +Stan adjusted himself and checked his instruments. He eased down against +the shock pad and waited. O'Malley went knifing away and he wheeled in +behind. Hoiking the P-51's tail he sent her off and up. + +Quickly the big fighters, each with a bomb load tucked in where +ordinarily extra tanks would nestle, closed into formation. The flight +leader, Colonel Wellman held them in tight formation. + +As they roared along Stan thought back over the past few days. He had +been offered the flight leader's job but had turned it down. When +Wellman got back he would be ranked up a notch and shoved into a job +where he could fly only occasionally. Already his record and his rating +kept him at base most of the time. Stan grinned. He did not want +anything out of the war but a chance to fly in action. + +They moved across the channel, high up in the cold sky. Roaring toward +Berlin in arrow-straight flight, they slid over the Netherlands. There +were to be no roundabout evasive tactics tonight, not with bombs in the +place of extra gasoline. + +Stan checked his instrument panel and his clocks. They must be over +Germany now. The country below was blacked-out entirely. There was no +flak and no lights below. Darkness still filled the world, but dawn was +not far away. + +A buzzer signal in his headset told Stan it was time to settle down for +low flying. Light had begun to show in the east. Down went the Mustangs, +and as the dawn began to lighten the low country below, they roared +across the German countryside. Now they were greeted by a few bursts of +fire, but no heavy flak came at them. Because they were hedge-hopping at +a terrific speed, the German warning systems were not spotting them in +time to allow gunners to get set. + +"Tactical formation, Red Flight." Colonel Wellman broke the silence with +that crisp order. + +The Mustangs spread out and made a circling sweep. They had been headed +straight for Berlin and would be spotted as a nuisance raid group of +Mosquito bombers. No fighters would try to intercept them. The Berlin +defenders would depend upon flak, as fighters were useless against the +fast Mosquitoes. By swinging sharply east the Mustangs would hit the +fighter hangars. + +The light was good as the boys roared along at treetop level and spotted +the landmarks they had been briefed to expect. They flew in perfect +formation. Stan was flying the tail slot along with O'Malley. They were +in a mopping-up position. + +Stan saw the runways flash into sight, then he saw the lead Mustangs go +in with their wheels almost touching the runways. A second later there +were many flashes of flame and rolling clouds of dust. At the same +moment the earth began to erupt fire and smoke and steel. The second +wave of Mustangs disappeared into the inferno. Stan saw two of them blow +up, then go bouncing and tumbling along the ground. That was all he had +time to see. With his hand on the bomb release he went in. + +The smoke and the firing was so intense Stan could make out little. He +judged his distance and released his bombs when he caught a glimpse of a +yawning tunnel ahead. He saw O'Malley cut his load loose. O'Malley was +wing to wing with him. Then the Irishman's Mustang stuck her nose into +the ground and went end over end down the field like a wrecked kite. +Stan pulled up hard and as his P-51 lifted, he felt something hit her. +It was as though he had slammed into a stone wall. She staggered, let +down one wing, then nosed over. Stan felt the ground slap her and heard +the ripping and tearing of metal as something exploded almost in his +face. A blinding flash of light stabbed at his eyeballs and blinded him. + +The Mustang rolled over and over, her sturdy fuselage refusing to +crumple. Stan's one thought was of fire. He pawed aside what was left of +his hatch cover and heaved himself upward and out. Staggering free of +the wreckage, he found himself enveloped in a choking pall of smoke. Off +to his left, a heavy explosion shook the ground. Dirt and sticks and +bits of metal peppered him and the smoke surged away before the +concussion of the explosion. Stan staggered back and as he did so, four +soldiers leaped at him out of the smoke. + +One of the men lunged at Stan from the side and two from the rear. He +felt a solid impact on the back of his head and felt himself slumping +forward, then everything went black. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +PRISONER + + +Stan opened his eyes and found himself in a big room with stone walls +and high windows. Sun was streaming in through two of the windows and +gleamed upon piles of straw littering the floor. A dozen Yank airmen and +several R.A.F. men sat on the straw. Stan lifted his hand to the back of +his head and groaned. An R.A.F. man near him said: + +"A bit of a tough rap? Can I get you some water? It's all we've seen so +far in the way of refreshments." + +"Thanks," Stan said. "But where am I?" + +"A Jerry prison. I take it you were one of the boys who bombed the +fighter fields. I'm Captain Prentiss." The Britisher smiled. + +"I'm Stan Wilson. I'm not sure I bombed anything. Is there an Irishman +here by the name of O'Malley?" + +"Right-o. He was dragged in with you." Prentiss got to his feet. "I'll +go tell him you're awake." + +"Thanks." Stan heaved himself to a sitting position and looked around. +Several of the boys nodded to him but none of them got up. All of them +were strangers to Stan, men from flights he had not worked with. + +O'Malley came in from a narrow hallway and hurried across the room. When +he saw that Stan was sitting up, a dark scowl on his face turned into a +grin. + +"Sure, an' I've been yellin' at them Krauts, tryin' to get them to send +a Doc in to fix you up. They jest laughed at me." + +"I don't need a doctor. How did the raid go?" + +"The boys say we blew 'em off the map. I talked with a couple of Lib +boys just brought in. We cleared the path to Berlin." O'Malley grinned +eagerly. "I'm glad ye're feelin' foine now. We have to get out o' this +hole." + +Stan looked up at the high, barred windows. "Yes, we do," he said, more +to encourage O'Malley than because he had any hopes. They were deep in +the heart of Germany and soon would be in a closely guarded prison camp. + +"They're takin' us to another prison in a few minutes. The guard says we +get to eat before we're locked up again. We have to be questioned by the +Gestapo." O'Malley leered angrily. + +"You mean German Intelligence," Stan corrected. + +"All the same. Himmler runs 'em both," O'Malley answered. + +They were interrupted by a shout from the hallway. A burly German +officer stamped into the room and stood looking at the men. + +"Get to your feet!" he yelled. + +The men slowly rose and stared at the officer. He glared at them, his +eyes moving over them slowly. + +"You should be treated as swine, you bomb cities and kill +non-combatants. Der Fuehrer does not like this," he snarled. + +"We are only following the example you set at Warsaw and Rotterdam," a +British major said as he stepped over and faced the German. "We are +prisoners of war and you'll treat us as such, my fine fellow." + +Stan moved forward quickly. The R.A.F. major stood with his feet planted +well apart, facing the German. The German lashed out suddenly with a +knotted fist. The major swayed a bit and ducked the blow. He started a +right cross for the German's jaw but Stan dived in and pinned his arms. + +"Swine! Dog!" the German bellowed. "You will pay for this." + +"Take it easy. Knocking his block off won't help you any," Stan said as +he released the major's arms. "There ought to be better ways." + +"I'm sorry," the major said stiffly. + +The German glared around him. He puffed out his chest and struck a stiff +pose. + +"You are to be moved to other quarters. Anyone trying any sneaking +business will be shot. Is dot clear?" + +"It's clear. Get on with the moving," Stan said crisply. + +"You better be after feedin' us," O'Malley broke in. + +The officer blew a whistle and a squad of soldiers filed in. The men +lined up and the officer began splitting the prisoners up into small +groups. He sent six men away with the guards and whistled for another +squad. + +"They must think we're tough," Stan said and grinned. + +Before Stan and O'Malley were sent out, a young lieutenant entered and +spoke to the officer in charge. He faced the remaining men. + +"Lieutenants Wilson and O'Malley are wanted at once for questioning." He +glared about him. + +Stan and O'Malley stepped forward. + +"Come with me," the young lieutenant snapped. + +"What? No squad with fixed bayonets?" Stan asked and grinned. + +The lieutenant smiled. "Where we are going there will be no need for an +armed guard." He walked away with Stan and O'Malley beside him. O'Malley +kept a sharp eye open for a chance to escape. Stan was afraid if they +passed an open door O'Malley would bolt through it. + +They entered a long hallway and were marched to its far end where they +entered a small room. There was a table and a few chairs. + +"You may as well sit down," the lieutenant said. + +"You almost talk United States," Stan observed. + +"I should. I spent ten years in Pittsburgh," the lieutenant explained. + +"How did you come to get over here in Germany?" Stan asked. + +"During those years I was working for the greater Germany," the officer +answered stiffly. "Heil Hitler." He did an about-face as precisely as +though he had been on parade before Hitler and marched out of the room. + +"Don't tell them anything," Stan said. + +"Sure, an' the Gestapo has my life history written down anyway," +O'Malley said. "I think we're in Berlin and I'd be after likin' it if I +could get loose." + +"We'll be watched very close at first. We'll have to wait," Stan warned. + +Two officers, a major and a colonel, accompanied by the young +lieutenant, entered. The ranking officers seated themselves at the +table; the lieutenant stood before Stan and O'Malley. + +"You are a part of the Eighth Air Force?" he asked. + +"Yes," Stan answered. + +"Do you know how many fighters and bombers your force has?" + +"No," Stan answered. + +"How many of the new type of fighters do you have? The sort you were +flying when shot down." + +"I've heard some of the boys say a couple of thousand," Stan answered. +He was merely reporting a bit of mess rumor he had heard the day before. + +The lieutenant scowled and spoke in German to his superiors. After that +the questions came fast, but neither O'Malley nor Stan offered any +further comment. They answered simply yes or no or refused to answer at +all. Finally the senior officer got up in disgust and stamped out. + +"You are fools," the lieutenant snapped. + +"Would you talk if we caught you?" Stan asked pleasantly. + +"Of course not, but we are a superior race. Now you will be given +comfortable quarters and food. We observe the rules of war." He turned +about and motioned for them to follow. + +The boys were fed soup and fish with a slice of bread and a brown liquid +which passed as coffee. O'Malley grumbled a lot, but he ate everything +set before him. + +"If this is what the Geneva treaty said captured officers were to eat, +I'm a spalpeen," O'Malley muttered as he marched away with Stan to their +quarters. + +They found themselves quartered in an old stone house which had at one +time been a residence. There was a high wall around it with many guards +pacing back and forth and two searchlights located on platforms which +were also occupied by a machine gun and its crew. But there was a yard +and a few trees and shrubs. + +"Not as bad as a prison camp," Stan said. + +"Not very good," O'Malley said as he stood looking up at one of the +machine-gun nests. + +The boys were taken to a room on the ground floor where they met several +other fellows from the Eighth. They had been located at the camp for +several months and were eager to hear news from England. + +Stan and O'Malley talked with them for a while, answering their +questions. One of the boys, a bombardier from a Fort, explained the +workings of the camp. + +"They change us around quite a bit. New men come and some of the old +heads go. I figure they do that to nip any escape attempts in the bud." +He laughed sourly. "I never heard of anybody getting away from one of +these camps." + +Another chap drifted in and seated himself. He was a lank Britisher with +a mop of black hair. + +"I hear you hail from the fighter strip near Diss." + +"That was our outfit," Stan said. + +"I just got a new roommate who says he's a Yank who was stationed at +Diss," the Britisher grinned. "He got shot down a while back. He just +came out of a hospital. Got a bad rap on the head." + +"We'd like to meet him. He must be one of the boys we lost on our first +bombing coverage." Stan got to his feet. + +He and O'Malley went upstairs and into the little room. Two men were +seated on a bed playing cards. Stan halted in the doorway. Over his +shoulder, O'Malley said: + +"Sim!" + +At first Stan was not sure. The man looked like Sim Jones. He was +thinner and he had a freshly healed scar on his cheek. His face was +sallow and he looked much older. + +O'Malley barged past Stan and caught the man's hand. "Glad ye're alive," +he said eagerly. + +"O'Malley?" Sim stared at O'Malley as he said it. He looked up at Stan. +"Wilson, you here, too." + +Stan grinned. "Yes, I'm here. We cracked up on a fighter strip while +bombing with Mustangs. I'm glad you made it safely. When I last saw +you, your P-51 had buried its nose in the ground." + +Sim's eyes narrowed sharply. "That crack-up knocked me silly," he said +grimly. "I don't remember much." He put his hand to his head. "I was +nuts for quite a while, I guess. Even now I forget things. Sometimes I +forget what's happened." + +"You'll come around," O'Malley said cheerfully. + +"They might let us three have this room together," Sim said. "I'd like +to have you fellows around." + +"It could be fixed," the Britisher said. "They let us line up about as +we wish. I'll help you fix it. I've been here a couple of months." + +Stan went with the R.A.F. man. They located a non-com who told them to +shift around as they pleased. He seemed to know who Stan was and all +about him and O'Malley. + +"Ve treat you goot," he said. + +As they went back the Britisher said, "Some of these Nazis are beginning +to try to make friends with us. I guess they figure they may need some +friends among the Allies one of these days." + +"They certainly will," Stan agreed. + +The two boys with Sim gladly moved out and Stan and O'Malley moved in. +They found Sim silent and moody, as though he was brooding over his +capture and captivity. Stan spoke to O'Malley about it out in the hall. + +"Sim is in bad shape. He ought to be in the hospital. We'll have to +watch out for him." + +"He'll be after comin' around," O'Malley said confidently. + +They entered the room and found Sim staring out of a window. Again Stan +was struck by the change in the boy. He seemed to have aged at least ten +years. He turned toward them, then got up and closed the door. He walked +over to a picture on the wall and moved it. Behind it he revealed a +small hole in the paper. He placed his hands to his lips and shook his +head. + +Stan moved over and looked closely, then he pressed on the paper. There +was a small cylinder under the paper. He grinned at Sim and O'Malley. +Deftly he slit the paper with his fingernail and removed a strip of it, +revealing a listening device. Taking out his pocketknife he neatly +snipped one of the small wires. + +"That will take care of that. Later we'll hook it up again so they won't +be suspicious." + +"They listen to all new men everywhere," Sim said. Suddenly he began to +laugh. "But I have fooled them. I have worked out a way for us to +escape." + +Stan stared at him. He was not sure Sim was not still insane. + +O'Malley said eagerly, "Spill it. Escape is what I'm lookin' for." + +Sim went to the door and opened it. He looked up and down the hall, then +closed the door. + +"I was going to try it alone, but I may be able to take you fellows +along." He spoke slowly. + +"Sure, three can make a getaway easier than one," O'Malley said. Stan +said nothing. + +"Germany is cracking up fast," Sim went on. "Rotten inside with half of +the guards scared they'll be stood up against a wall and shot when the +invasion comes." + +"They didn't seem to be slipping much where we landed," Stan said. + +"But they are," Sim insisted. "I have a man fixed to take me out of here +and across Germany. I'm to get him out of the country and guarantee +he'll be safely kept over in England." + +"Swell," O'Malley put in. "When do we get going?" + +"It will take a day or so. He's no small fry either, he's a +non-commissioned officer with some authority. He thinks the Gestapo is +about to pick him off for not being tough enough." + +"It sounds a bit too easy to me," Stan said. "But I'd take any sort of +chance to get back into action." + +"Tomorrow I'll let you know if you can go along," Sim promised. "Now you +better hook that listening gadget up again." + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +ESCAPE + + +When Stan awoke the next morning Sim was gone from his bunk. He sat up +quickly, then lay back and let his stiff, sore muscles relax. There was +no hurry. He was not going any place that day, perhaps not for a long +time. Lying there he listened to O'Malley's deep snores and thought back +over the events of the past few hours. + +Those events had happened so swiftly and so explosively that they seemed +like the shadowy memory of a nightmare. He recalled that he had not +asked O'Malley how he had been captured. He had just taken it for +granted his pal had been through an experience the same as his own. It +was odd, too, the way things fitted together. The oddest of all was +finding Sim Jones billeted in the same prison. + +A knock sounded upon the door. "Come in," Stan called. + +O'Malley sat up in bed suddenly, pawing the blankets away from his +shoulders. He stared around the room, then scowled. The door opened and +a Nazi corporal entered. + +"Heil Hitler!" he said very loudly and clicked his heels together. + +"Good morning," Stan greeted. + +O'Malley just glared at the corporal. + +"I am Hans." The Nazi looked behind him, sticking his head out so that +he could see up and down the hall. He closed the door. "It is orders of +Herr General that prisoners be up and taking exercises by seven each +morning. I have let you sleep because you were very tired." + +"That was nice of you," Stan said. + +"I am goot to prisoners," Hans said. + +Stan swung his feet to the floor. He got out of bed and walked across +the room. Flipping a picture of Hitler aside, he exposed the microphone +in the wall. Hans rolled his eyes and clicked his heels. + +"Heil Hitler!" he almost shouted. "Tomorrow you will get out of bed and +be down in the yard by seven." + +Stan grinned. He reached up and disconnected the wire leading to the +instrument. + +"They listen all the time," Hans said. "They watch everyone. There is +more Gestapo than guards." + +"Nice country to live in," Stan remarked. + +O'Malley laughed and pulled the blankets up around his chin. + +"Sure, an' it needs a bit o' cleaning up," he said. + +Hans looked at him nervously. "You think the British and Americans come +soon?" he asked. + +"If they're later than next week, I'll be after speakin' to a few +generals harsh-like," O'Malley answered. + +"Perhaps not next week but soon," Stan said. + +"I am not a party member. I will go back to my little farm near Pilsen," +Hans said, "if it is permitted." + +"It could be fixed that way," Stan said and smiled. "Silence is golden, +but too much of it might make the Gestapo boys suspicious." He walked +to the picture of Hitler and connected the microphone again. + +"You will report at once for mess. Heil Hitler!" Hans clicked his heels +and did an about-face. He moved out of the room almost goose-stepping. +Stan grinned after him. + +"Get up, you bum," he called to O'Malley. + +O'Malley got out of bed and began dressing. Within ten minutes they were +in the hall. As they walked down it they passed no less than three +pictures of Hitler hanging on the walls. O'Malley moved every one of +them and peered behind it. + +"I don't like the scenery here," he grumbled. + +The mess was a large room which once had been a living room and dining +room combined. There were twenty prisoners, mostly R.A.F. men, all of +officer's rank. They looked bored and listless, but they greeted the new +arrivals with friendly interest. Sim was seated at the table. He looked +up and nodded. + +Breakfast was not bad and the boys ate everything set before them. After +breakfast the men went out into the yard. The sun was shining and the +air was warm, but there was a feel of winter in the wind which blew over +the high wall. + +Stan and O'Malley sat down on a bench with Sim. The other men busied +themselves with handball and quoits. Sim bent down and traced a line +with a stick in the dirt. + +"I have everything lined up. We get away tonight. A British colonel is +giving a lecture in the big room at nine tonight. I have fixed the +checker. We'll get away while that is on." Sim did not look up. + +"Hans is the checker?" O'Malley asked. + +"Yes." + +"Sure this isn't a trap? Things have been working too good around here," +Stan said. + +"This will not be easy," Sim answered in a low voice. "The chances are +about even we'll be shot before we get clear of the wire and the guard +lines. These guards do not shout at you, they shoot and then yell." Sim +laughed shortly. "But I'd rather be shot than rot here." + +"Sure, an' that's me, too," O'Malley agreed. + +"We'll be ready," Stan answered. + +"You cannot take anything with you," Sim warned. "Now we have to break +up. The guards are watching us." He got to his feet and walked away. + +"I think he's acting nuts for the benefit of the guards," O'Malley said. + +"If it turns out he really is nuts, we may find ourselves messed up with +lead," Stan answered. He got up and walked over to where the R.A.F. boys +were pitching quoits. + +"Care to get in?" a captain asked him. + +"Thanks, I'll have a try," Stan answered. + +O'Malley stretched out on the bench and went to sleep. He slept through +until lunch call was sounded. Stan mixed with the British officers and +learned what he could about conditions. He got their names so he could +report regarding them if he did get away. + +The afternoon dragged away and mess call sounded after one of the R.A.F. +officers had put the men through a stiff drill and a series of +sitting-up exercises. After mess Stan and O'Malley went to their room. +Sim was not there. + +"I didn't see Sim around the mess when we left, wonder where he went?" +Stan whispered. + +"You worry too much about him," O'Malley answered. "I bet he's snoopin' +around gettin' set to get us away." + +Stan stretched out on his bunk. They waited for Sim to show up, but he +did not come to the room. At eight o'clock Stan began to squirm. + +"They've probably nabbed him," he said sourly. + +"Sure, an' I'll start working on Hans if they have." + +They had been speaking in very low tones. Now Stan spoke louder. "Better +be getting ready to go to that lecture." + +"Sure," O'Malley agreed. + +The boys settled down to wait. O'Malley kept looking at his wrist watch. +Stan lay with his eyes closed. He was checking every angle of the +strange business. As near as he could gather, things were going badly in +Germany. The big crack-up might be near at hand. + +At five minutes to nine they heard steps in the hall. They passed down +the stairs. Boys from the rooms along the hallway were going to the +lecture. Stan got up and disconnected the microphone. O'Malley was +pacing about like a caged lion. They heard single footsteps and there +was a rap on the door. It opened and Hans stood there. + +"I am glad you have not yet gone to the lecture," he said. "Herr General +wishes to speak to you. You will come with me." + +Stan looked at O'Malley and O'Malley looked at Stan. Stan spoke +smoothly. + +"Couldn't we see the general after the lecture? We'd like very much to +hear the colonel." + +"It will not wait. Herr General is a very impatient man." + +There was nothing to do but go with Hans. Stan and O'Malley walked along +the hallway with the corporal, keeping a sharp watch for Sim. They did +not see him in the hallway or downstairs. Hans took them past the guards +at the outer garden gate and across the street to another house. In a +small hall room he nodded toward chairs. + +"You will be called," he said, then turned and hurried away. + +The outer door was open and the boys could see two sentries standing on +the front porch. + +"We have to get out o' here," O'Malley said. + +"Not a chance. There's no window and those two guards would see us +before we got within ten feet of them," Stan answered. "It's just a case +of sitting tight and hoping Sim waits for us." + +Near where they were sitting a door opened into another room. Stan +leaned over and looked at the door. It was not latched firmly and was +open about a half inch. He could hear men talking in the other room. +They were speaking in German. + +"You understand German. Listen to what they are saying," Stan whispered. + +O'Malley moved closer and listened. The men seemed to be arguing hotly. +Every once in a while one voice would be raised in anger. There were +three men in the room. O'Malley edged the door open a bit more and +peeped into the room. + +After a bit he straightened and grinned at Stan. "Sure, an' the general +is eatin' the tails off his staff. Some of 'em seem to think the war is +lost. They been tellin' him the German people are demandin' peace at any +price. I figure he's goin' to have one o' them shot." + +At that moment an orderly came rushing out of the office. He charged +past the boys without seeming to see them, and rushed out of the +building. + +"The general says if this leaks out, the Allies will invade at once. +He's sure mad." O'Malley laughed softly. + +A few minutes passed and the orderly returned with a squad of armed +soldiers led by a lieutenant. They stomped past the boys and into the +office. When they came out they were marching a captain and a major +before them. + +Five more minutes passed and the orderly came out. He seemed much +agitated. + +"You will come now," he said in husky English. + +The boys followed him into the office. Herr General was a burly fellow +with a bald head and a narrow chest. He had a monocle screwed into one +eye which made him look fierce and tough. He glared at the boys, then +snapped an order to the orderly. The man scurried away. + +"Come up to my desk, you," the general snarled. + +The boys moved up and stood waiting. + +"I have checked the answers you gave to questions asked you when you +were captured. You said an invasion will come at once. Why did you say +that?" + +Stan stared at the officer. "We didn't say any such thing," he answered +evenly. He decided that the general had heard some of their conversation +over the listening device. + +"Sure, an' you got big ears, General," O'Malley said. + +Stan kicked him on the shin. The general jumped and puffed out his +chest. He fixed O'Malley with a cold glare. + +"Pig! Fool! Keep a civil tongue in your head or you will regret it +much." + +"If you brought us here to get information, you will be disappointed, +General," Stan said. "We will not talk." + +"I brought you here to tell you that we intend to make you talk," the +general barked. "I merely wished to warn you and then to let you have a +little time to think it over." + +"We are prisoners of war," Stan reminded him. + +"The code provides for disciplining prisoners of war. We have some very +effective methods. You will talk and be glad to. Now get out." + +Stan and O'Malley turned toward the door. Two armed men stood waiting +for them. They marched out with the guards close behind them. + +"Sure, an' this is a nice mess," O'Malley grumbled. + +"Could be worse," Stan said. + +The guards left them after passing them into the yard of their house. +They headed for their room. Passing through the outer hall, they saw +that the lecture was still going on in the living room. They went up the +stairs. + +Stan opened the door and O'Malley shoved into the room close behind him. +They stood looking at Sim's bunk. The straw ticking of the mattress had +been slit open and some of the straw was scattered on the floor. Sim was +not in the room. Stan walked over to a little table. One small light +bulb was flooding the room with light. + +"He was here and left in a hurry. He didn't turn off the light." + +"I'm gettin' out o' here," O'Malley growled. + +"Sit down. We're staying," Stan said sharply. He pulled off his coat and +tossed it across his bunk, then he seated himself on the foot of his +bed. + +"We're going to get it in the neck, anyway," O'Malley scowled. + +"Do you know where we are, in what part of Germany?" + +"Somewhere near Berlin," O'Malley said. + +"Sure, but where? We need more dope on the grounds and on the country +around us. We wouldn't get a mile from this prison farm if we did break +out." + +O'Malley sat down on his bed. "Sure, you're right. We should have had +Sim tell us something about this deal." + +"Now that you mention it, Sim never told us anything," Stan said. + +"Probably didn't know anything," O'Malley growled. + +They sat looking at each other, waiting, trying to discover some lead +that might help them. Finally Stan said: + +"We'll have to clean up that straw and fix Sim's bed before anyone comes +in here snooping around." + +"Yeah," O'Malley said but he did not move. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +FLIGHT + + +Stan began cleaning up their room so that the guards checking rooms that +night would not notice Sim had gone. He wanted to give Sim as much of a +start as possible. While he was brushing the straw under Sim's bunk the +door opened. Both boys turned quickly. In the doorway stood Sim. His +lips were parted in a thin smile. + +"Sim!" Stan took a step toward the door. "We thought you had gone." + +"Quiet," Sim whispered. "Come with me." + +He turned and moved out into the hall with Stan and O'Malley at his +heels. They walked down the hall and into a corner room. Sim crossed the +room and opened a window. They saw a rope dangling over the sill. + +Stan peered into the darkness below but could see nothing. "There +should be a guard right under this window," he whispered. + +"He has been taken care of," Sim hissed. "You go down. We will follow." + +"Didn't you get any guns or grenades?" O'Malley asked. + +"No," Sim answered sharply. "Hurry." + +Stan climbed through the window and slid down the rope. When his feet +hit the ground he wiggled the rope. A minute later O'Malley was at his +side. Sim arrived within another minute. He caught the boys' arms and +began moving away from the house. + +Sim led them to the wall and along it until they came to a gate. It was +open; Sim paused and Stan and O'Malley peered out. A small light burned +above the gate. The light revealed a truck filled with cans. Stan +grinned in the darkness. The truck was a garbage lorry. The night breeze +carried that information to him. The truck smelled very strong. + +"We hide among the cans," Sim whispered. + +At that moment two men appeared carrying a can. They heaved it into the +truck. One of them fastened a chain across the back opening, then they +moved toward the cab of the truck. + +"When the light is snapped off!" Sim whispered. + +From the kitchen of the house a voice shouted something in German. The +truck driver answered. The light snapped off and Sim started forward +with the boys beside him. The truck was sputtering and backfiring, +pouring out rank smoke as they reached it. They went into it as it +lurched forward. All of the cans came clanging back against the chain, +almost shoving the boys out. + +Quickly the three moved cans until they were up in the front of the +truck next to the cab. There they crouched down with their knees pulled +up. The cans made so much noise there was no danger of the boys being +heard. + +"'Tis a sweet smellin' cab ye called," O'Malley observed. + +"The smell will keep the Germans from examining it very closely," Sim +answered and Stan heard him chuckle. "When we come to a lighted town +we'll each have to get into a can." + +"They're full o' garbage," O'Malley protested. + +"We'll empty three cans," Sim said. "Might as well do it while we're on +this rough country road." + +The truck was bouncing and the cans were banging. The noise was terrific +and the darkness total. Stan got hold of a can. It was heavy, but with +O'Malley's help he was able to lift it up and tip it over the edge. The +contents poured out on the side of the road. Two more cans were dumped. + +"There goes a lot of meals for the prisoners in the ghetto," Sim said +and laughed. + +"You mean to say the skunks feed prisoners garbage?" Stan asked. + +"I've been told they let the prisoners of the lowest class pick over the +garbage," Sim answered. + +Stan felt his stomach begin to turn over. O'Malley said nothing. For +once he was stumped for words. They moved the cans to the center and +well forward and crouched beside them. + +The truck rattled on through the night. Presently they saw lights ahead. + +"According to my map," Sim said, "that should be a well-lighted +inspection post. We better get into the cans." + +The boys got into the cans. Stan kept his head well up out of the can. +He meant to keep it up in the wind until it was absolutely necessary to +duck down. + +The truck swung in under a row of lights. Stan ducked down and held his +nose. There was much guttural shouting. Several men moved around the +truck. They poked bayonets among the cans and against them. Stan felt a +blade strike the can he was in. The can gave out a dull clinking sound, +indicating it was full. Stan grinned. Someone shouted an order and the +truck rolled on. + +As soon as darkness closed over them the boys popped out of the cans. +O'Malley was talking to himself in very rich Irish. + +"If I'd known this was goin' to happen to me I'd have brought along a +blanket to wrap meself in," he growled. "We'll smell so bad we won't be +able to hide any place." + +Stan laughed. "They won't need blood-hounds to track us," he admitted. + +"We will get other clothing," Sim said. + +The truck rolled on, crossing a hill and dropping down toward a town. +Lights winked ahead of them and the road became smoother. + +"We unload pretty soon," Sim said. "There will be a small farmhouse on +the right with tall trees. We get off there. The farmer is a member of +the underground." + +"Underground in Germany?" Stan asked in surprise. + +"They told me it was well established and doing a big business. People +are paying well to get out of Germany before it collapses." Sim was +swinging a leg over the side as he spoke. + +The boys got out of the truck and clung to the outside. They saw dark +forms of trees and a light in a window. + +"Now," Sim whispered as he swung away from the truck. + +Stan heard him land with a thud. Stan jumped and landed in a hedge +beside the road and rolled on into tall grass. O'Malley hit close beside +him, and they crouched behind the hedge watching the truck. It went +rattling on into the night. Sim called to them. + +"Come on. We have to hurry." + +They moved over beside him and he headed across an open field toward the +lighted window. As they neared the house, a dog began barking. Sim +halted and they stood waiting. A door opened and a man shouted at the +dog. Sim moved forward. + +"Hello," he called. + +The door closed suddenly and Stan heard the man walking over gravel +toward them. They advanced to meet him. Sim spoke as soon as he was +close. + +"We were sent by Hans." + +"Goot. Come, I show you," the man answered. + +They walked with him to the house and he opened the door. "Quick," he +mumbled. He began pushing them through the door. + +There was no need to shove. The boys dived inside and the German closed +the door. He moved to a window and pulled down the blind, then he faced +them. He was a short man with a beefy face. His stomach rolled out over +a wide leather belt. + +"I get you clothes," he said gruffly. + +Disappearing into another room he returned after a time with an armload +of clothing which he tossed on a table. The boys changed into rough +shirts and dungarees. The clothing was coarse, but it was clean. The +German gathered up their uniforms. + +"These I burn," he said and left with them. + +"We have to move on at once," Sim said. "This place will be searched +before morning. The Germans are very thorough." + +The boys seated themselves and waited. Their host was gone for a long +time. Finally Sim got up. + +"I'll go hurry him along," he said. "You stay right here." He left the +room hurriedly. + +"Sim is no nut. He has this all worked out," O'Malley said. + +"He certainly has," Stan agreed. He got up and moved to the door Sim had +just closed. Opening it gently he went into a dark room. Feeling his way +he moved to another door. He could see a shaft of light under the door. +Halting with his hand on the knob, he listened. Sim was talking with +their underground agent in German. Stan opened the door quickly. The +two men whirled about and faced him. + +"I didn't know you spoke German," Stan said. + +"You should not be sneaking around," the German said sharply. + +"I have always spoken German," Sim answered. "I learned it in school +back home. How did you think I managed to line things up so well if I +didn't know German?" + +"We got worried," Stan said. "Thought something might have happened to +you." + +"I just wanted to make sure these uniforms were burned," Sim said and +laughed. "German farmers are thrifty people. They hate to burn good wool +cloth, which can't be bought for any price here. These people have only +ersatz cloth." + +"We go now," the German said and scowled at Stan. + +"Did he burn them?" Stan asked. + +"He buried them in his orchard. We don't have time to waste having him +dig them up," Sim answered. + +O'Malley had heard the talking and joined them in the kitchen. + +"Everybody's here, so let's go," Stan said. He was trying to remember +if Sim Jones had ever talked to him about his past. He could not +remember the flier ever having said much about himself. + +The German took the lead and they followed him out through a back door. +They walked down a path and came to a small barn. Stan heard a horse +snort. The German spoke softly to Sim in German. + +O'Malley answered the man in German. The fellow jumped and O'Malley +laughed. Too late Stan kicked O'Malley warningly upon the shin. Stan +frowned. He should have warned O'Malley. Now the man knew he could speak +and understand German. Sim looked at O'Malley and laughed. + +"It seems we will be able to get on very well with two of us speaking +the native tongue," he said. + +"You talk Kraut?" O'Malley asked. + +"Come, we waste time," the German said. He moved into the barn with the +boys at his heels. + +The guide untied a horse and led it out through a back door. There, by +the light of the stars, the boys saw a two-wheeled cart loaded with +hay. The German hitched the horse to the cart. + +"Hide in the hay," he said. + +The boys climbed into the cart and burrowed under the hay. Stan worked +his way well forward with O'Malley and Sim close beside him. They were +forced to lie very close together because the cart was narrow. They +worked an opening for air and lay on the hard boards. The German spoke +to the horse and the cart moved off. + +The cart joggled over rutty roads for hours. Daylight began to show +through the straw opening. Stan wiggled over against the slats on the +side of the cart and poked a hole to look through. They were moving +along a country lane. The cart turned out and a wagon passed. It was +loaded with farm workers. Behind the wagon came a motorcycle and +sidecar. A German soldier sat in the sidecar, while another, with a +rifle slung across his back, drove the motorcycle. The driver shouted at +the German on the seat of the cart, but he did not stop him. + +O'Malley began squirming. He was in the middle and could see nothing at +all. + +"Be still!" Sim snapped. "You'll shake hay loose and someone may become +suspicious." + +O'Malley lay still but he made Stan tell him what he saw. They passed +other wagons loaded with slave labor going to the fields, as well as +many farmers, both men and women, on the way to work. + +The German kept on driving and no one stopped him. Noon came and he +still kept on. The boys were getting hungry and thirsty, but the driver +did not halt. He pulled out a bag from under the seat and munched a +sausage sandwich, washing the food down with draughts from a brown jug. +O'Malley was able to see this. + +"Sure, an' I've a mind to reach up there an' grab that sandwich," he +said hungrily. + +"Better not," Stan warned. + +O'Malley held his appetite in check, but he kept on grumbling. + +"Stop watching him eat," Stan advised in a whisper. + +"Sure, an' I can't take me eyes off that sausage sandwich. 'Tis the most +appetizin' thing I iver seen," O'Malley said mournfully. + +The cart rattled through a village and moved on down another narrow +lane. Presently they came to a gate and the driver pulled up. Stan +ducked back. + +"German soldiers," he whispered warningly. + +The soldiers were shouting at the driver. He got down and began talking +to them excitedly. + +"They're looking for escaped prisoners," O'Malley whispered in Stan's +ear. + +Three burly soldiers walked over to the cart and began thrusting their +bayonets into the hay. Stan stiffened. If he was stabbed he meant to +make no outcry. He felt the cold steel move across his body a few inches +from his chest. It slipped back, then stabbed again. Stan was glad the +bed of the cart had a ten-inch high board around it. + +After more shouting and poking the driver got back on his seat and the +cart moved forward. + +"Boy," Stan muttered. "That was a close shave." + +"I got a small cut," Sim said. + +"And you didn't yell?" O'Malley spoke admiringly. + +"It would have been the end for us if I had yelled," Sim answered. + +The cart continued to jog along slowly. Long shadows fell across the +road and the cart passed many farmers returning from the fields. + +"I could eat a boiled dog," O'Malley grumbled. + +"We'll eat later," Sim assured him. + +Darkness settled slowly. The driver turned off the road into a narrower +lane as soon as it was dark. + +"No traveling is allowed after dark," Sim explained. "We must be near +our second station." + +The cart halted and the driver called to them. + +"Come out now." + +They climbed out and flexed stiff muscles. O'Malley faced the driver. + +"I'm hungry. Got any food?" + +"Come with me," the man said. + +They entered a grove of trees and walked up to a tiny house. The house +was dark but, with the aid of a flashlight, the guide located a trap +door under some loose straw. He pulled it upward, revealing a stairs. +The boys went down into a cellar where their guide lighted an oil lamp. + +The cellar smelled stale but it had boxes to sit on and a table. There +was a box on the table. + +"Your food," the German said, nodding toward the box. + +He turned away and went upstairs again. They heard him close the door +and rake straw over it. O'Malley opened the box at once. It contained a +loaf of heavy bread, a few pieces of cold sausage and three boiled +potatoes. Also there was a jug which contained milk. + +Sim produced a heavy clasp knife and cut the bread. The boys made +sandwiches and munched them. The jug was passed around and they drank +out of it. + +"Sure, an' this is not a bad dinner," O'Malley said. "It compares +favorably with the last roast duck dinner I had in London." He grinned +at Stan. + +After finishing their meal the boys sat waiting for their guide. + +"He has to care for his horse and dispose of the hay," Sim explained. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +TRAPPED + + +The boys left the cellar very soon after finishing their meal. Their +guide led them down a country lane. They hiked along steadily for +several hours, then detoured through a field, making a wide circle. + +"We have to go around the patrol stations on the road," Sim explained. + +"It's nice to have a guide who knows the way," Stan said. + +"I understand the patrol posts are cleverly hidden. Without a guide a +man walking down the lane would trip an alarm wire and be caught in no +time at all." Sim seemed to know all about the methods used by the Nazis +to trap anyone fleeing the country. + +They kept walking until midnight. Then they rested for a half-hour, +lying in a hedge beside the road. After midnight they moved more +slowly. Several times they dived into the fields along the road to avoid +patrols moving swiftly along the lane on motorcycles. Once they almost +ran into a bicycle patrol. The cyclists did not make any noise and were +upon the boys before they had time to duck. A leafy hedge saved them +from being sighted. + +"We will have to cross the Dutch border soon," Sim said after talking +with their guide. + +"There won't be much of a guard there, will there?" Stan asked. "The +Germans have made Holland a part of Germany." + +"There is a strict border control," the guide answered. "The Dutch are +just pigs and are kept in their pen." + +"That's what the Nazis say," Sim added. + +"Sure," the guide agreed. "The Nazis say that." + +"How are we to get through?" Stan asked. "You must have a method which +works." + +"Sure," the guide said. "But it has always been risky. We may be +separated. If we are separated, you will ask a Dutchman to take you to +76 Mamur in Arnhem. Do not speak to a Dutchman wearing a swastika. Ask +only of a farmer or other working person." + +"We all will meet there," Sim said. "After that, we will have no more +trouble. The Dutch will take care of us." + +"Now we go," the guide said. + +"At any rate, we know where we are," Stan said to O'Malley. "Arnhem +isn't so far from Rotterdam." + +"Sure, an' that just means nothin' to me. I'm stickin' with this here +guide," O'Malley answered. + +They moved along at a fast pace for some time. Finally the German called +a halt. There seemed to be quite a bit of activity ahead; besides, dawn +was not far away. They had spent most of the last hour ducking patrols +roaring up and down the lane. + +"We must move very carefully now. We will leave the road. Keep close to +me," the guide said in a low voice. + +The party moved off the road and through a hedge. Beyond the hedge they +found themselves in a plowed field. The ground was soft and damp. +Moving slowly now, because they sunk in to their boot tops, the boys +crossed the field and came to a canal. Stan could see murky water in the +ditch. He judged the canal was about fifteen feet wide. + +They followed the canal for some distance. Lights ahead caused the guide +to halt. Stan could see men on both sides of the canal. They were +silhouetted against the sky and were moving back and forth. + +"We must pass through the guard lines here," the guide whispered. "There +will be soldiers with rifles on each side of the canal. There is much +barbed wire and many electrical alarms along the border. We must take to +the canal." + +"Sure, and it looks cold, that water," O'Malley muttered. + +"We will keep close to the bank, two on each side. When we pass the +guards above we must crouch down in the water and stay against the bank. +We must go very slow. Waves or movement of the water will be noticed." + +"Lead on," Stan said grimly. "Let's get it over with." + +"Those on the far bank will wade across after we pass the border. We +will then go to Arnhem and hide there during the day." The German was +sliding down the bank into the water as he spoke. + +"O'Malley and I will cross over," Stan said. He wanted to keep O'Malley +with him. + +The water was icy and numbed their bodies almost at once. Stan and +O'Malley waded across the canal. The bottom was muddy and the water came +up to their necks. With chattering teeth they reached the far bank and +began moving along in the black shadows next to overhanging grass. + +Slowly the boys inched forward, being careful not to send ripples out +across the water. As they neared the sentry post the water was well +lighted from electric floodlights set on each bank. Stan halted and +flattened himself against the grass. + +A sentry was standing on each bank, his rifle butt resting on the +ground. Both were looking down at the canal intently. Stan pulled +O'Malley close to him. + +"We'll have to get down until just our heads stick out, then inch +forward," he whispered. + +"Inch away," O'Malley whispered back. His teeth rattled louder than his +words. + +Stan sank down into the water and they began moving slowly ahead. Inch +by inch they entered the lighted area and moved on. A water rat swam +past them in the middle of the canal. It left a wide ripple behind it, +and the sentries jerked up their guns. One of them laughed and picked up +a rock. He tossed it at the rat. The rat dived with a loud splash. Both +soldiers laughed loudly and one of them lighted a cigarette. + +Stan shoved ahead a bit faster. They moved directly under the sentries +and kept on going. Slowly they edged away down the stream. The light on +the water became dimmer and finally faded out. + +"How about crossin' over? I'm frozen stiff," O'Malley hissed between +chattering teeth. + +"O.K.," Stan answered. They moved out into the canal and waded across. +Climbing out on the bank, they sat shaking and shuddering. + +"Wonder where Sim is?" O'Malley asked. + +"We better wait here. They may not have moved as fast as we did." Stan +began rubbing his legs to warm them. + +They heard no sounds except those coming from the post on the bank of +the canal. Finally Stan moved. + +"We stayed in the canal quite a long distance. They may be up or down +the canal. But no matter which way, they are sure to be waiting for us. +We can't stay here because daylight will be breaking very soon. I'll +work my way back toward the border; you move the other way. When we find +them, we'll turn back and meet." + +"Good idea," O'Malley agreed. He moved off at once. + +Stan headed back along the bank of the canal. He kept as close to the +edge as he dared, because he figured Sim and the German would be sitting +on the bank. After going a few yards he got down on his hands and knees +and crawled. He would be able to go only a few yards more because the +floodlights were growing strong. In a few more minutes he could turn +back and be sure Sim was downstream. + +He was moving along, crawling slowly, when he felt the bank under him +begin to sag and slip. With a swift effort he tried to pull himself away +from the canal. The cave-in took a big slice of earth with it. Stan's +grasping hands found only torn roots and wet mud. He went over the edge +and into the canal along with a half ton of earth. He and the dirt hit +the water with a terrific splash. + +Instantly a floodlight snapped on and swung around to sweep the canal. +Stan went down in a mass of mud and water. He came up pawing and +struggling. Men began shouting on the shore. Stan ducked under the icy +water and plunged toward the bank. He came up against the grassy bank +and shook the water out of his eyes. Both banks were swarming with +soldiers. + +Stan thought fast. He wanted the others to escape. They had to get away. +He was getting set for another dive when the searchlight found him and +pinned him to the bank like a trapped animal. Guards with machine guns +covered him threateningly. He didn't have a chance. An officer was +shouting at him in German. + +"Hold your fire, I'll get out," Stan shouted. He wanted to hold the +attention of the men until his friends got away. + +"A Britisher," the officer shouted. "Get out on the bank!" His English +was a bit thick but understandable. + +Stan climbed out and was surrounded by armed men in an instant. He was +marched up the bank and halted under the floodlight. The officer stood +glaring at him. + +"Where do you come from?" he demanded. + +"I came out of that canal, and it was a bit chilly," Stan answered. "I'd +appreciate some dry clothing." + +"American!" the officer exclaimed. "A spy dressed in the clothes of a +farmer." + +"I just borrowed these. I'm not a spy. You can check up on that." Then +Stan clamped his lips shut. If he revealed his identity now, the Germans +would know where to look for O'Malley and Sim. + +"A spy, no less," the officer snapped. "Come with me." + +"Gladly," Stan said. + +He was taken to a small shack a few yards back from the canal. There was +a stove in the shack and Stan edged close to it. The officer stepped to +a wall phone and put through, a call. He talked quite a while and +finally began to laugh loudly. After he hung up he turned to Stan. + +"The colonel agrees you are a spy and a very dumb one. You will be sent +to him and he will have you shot at once. It is easy to see why you +Americans cannot fight the Germans. You are careless fools, all of you." + +Stan grinned. He figured the officer was the dumb one. He had not even +asked Stan if there were any other men with him. + +"I guess you're right, Captain," he said. "But if I'm to be shot I +should be made comfortable. How about some dry clothes? I may contract +pneumonia and die before you get to question me." + +"I will deliver you to the colonel. What he does with you is no affair +of mine." The captain opened the door and called to his men outside. + +Stan walked out and a squad of four men marched him to an open car. He +was shoved into the back seat and the guards climbed in, three with him +and one in front. Stan was grateful for the packed condition in the +rear seat, because chill air began to swirl back on him as they roared +away. He got a little warmth from the soldiers crowded in with him. + +Day was breaking as they moved into a city. Stan figured it was Arnhem. +The car pulled up in front of a long stone building and Stan was hustled +inside. He was taken into a bare room and left there alone. There was +some heat in the room and he ceased shaking. + +An hour passed and a tall soldier came into the room. He beckoned Stan +to follow him. They walked down a hall and entered another room. Here +Stan was served a bowl of potato soup. It was watery thin, but it was +hot. His jailer sat watching him as he ate. When he had finished, the +man nodded and got to his feet. Stan followed him down the hall again +and into a room furnished as an office. A fat German colonel sat at a +desk. His bloated cheeks puffed out and he burst into a hearty laugh +when he saw Stan. His fat stomach heaved as he laughed, and his +bristling mustache made Stan think of a walrus he once had seen in a +zoo. + +Stan stood waiting. For the life of him he could see nothing so funny +about his personal appearance. He looked the colonel over with a +critical eye. The colonel ceased laughing and regarded Stan closely. + +"Lieutenant Stan Wilson, Eighth Air Force, U.S.A.," he said softly. "But +for my purposes a spy, caught creeping up on one of our outposts dressed +as a German farmer." + +Stan jumped in spite of himself. The colonel knew his name. That was +bad. He said nothing, knowing the colonel would explain more in detail. + +"You American swine are such fools, so easy for the German mastermind to +handle. But you are the prize _dummer_ of all. We gave you a chance to +escape along with your friend Lieutenant O'Malley, and you had to get +caught in spite of us." He leaned back and laughed loudly. + +"Sim Jones was a spy?" Stan shot the question at the colonel. + +"Sim Jones is no spy, but Herr Egbert Minter is a spy and a very clever +one. He fooled you men into thinking he was Jones. You were trapped by +a very clever actor, Lieutenant." The colonel patted his stomach and +smiled broadly. "I have been given a complete file upon the case along +with orders to put you out of the way." + +"Why should you let us escape?" Stan asked. + +"As you will not live to tell about it, I may as well enlighten you." +The colonel fairly beamed. "When Herr Minter and the redheaded +lieutenant reach England, as they will, Minter will send us information +as to a big raid we are sure you are planning. After Lieutenant O'Malley +and Herr Minter tell your High Command how near collapse Germany is, +they will make the raid with everything they have to knock us out of the +war." The colonel bent forward. "We were careful to stage many little +scenes for your benefit. I am sorry only that this O'Malley person is to +get through to tell how weakened Germany is within her own borders. You +would have served much better." + +Stan stared at the German and his teeth clamped shut hard. "A very +clever set of tricks, Colonel," he said coldly. "But they won't get you +any place. Minter won't be able to get a message out in time." + +"We already have the radio equipment where he can use it. We have made a +careful study of the habits of Lieutenant Jones. You see he was knocked +a bit out of his head and talked a great deal about his home and about +his career in the service while he was in the hospital." The colonel +leaned back. "I, Colonel Glotz, had no small part in this and will earn +an advancement. Heil Hitler!" He snapped the words out sharply. + +"And you intend to shoot me?" Stan said. + +"Perhaps, unless you can give us some information regarding this new +fighter craft you were flying." + +Stan's eyes narrowed. He was sure Colonel Glotz's orders did not call +for shooting him on the spot. He would have a little time to plan an +escape. His chances would be desperately slim, he knew that, but he had +faced death many times before and had always cheated the final pay-off. + +"Well?" Glotz asked. + +"I don't know what I could tell you," Stan said, pretending to be +debating with himself. + +"We'll give you a few hours to think it over. I have some important +messages to dictate." Glotz rang a bell and two guards appeared. They +stepped up beside Stan and nodded toward the door. + +Stan was marched out into the hall and down a few doors to a small room. +He was shoved inside and the door was locked. There was a cot and a +table in the room. A small light bulb dangled from a cord. Its feeble +light was necessary because the room was an inside one without windows. +Except for a barred transom over the door, there was no means of +ventilation. + +Stan sat down on the cot to think. He had to get away and warn the +Eighth Air Force of the trap being baited for them. That matter was more +important than saving his own neck. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +SPY + + +Stan lay on the cot for several hours, looking up at the dangling light +bulb. He had been able to think of no plan of escape that seemed likely +to succeed. But after careful thought he was convinced Colonel Glotz had +been merely showing off. Stan felt certain Glotz would have to wait for +orders from his superiors before he did anything. Those orders, however, +could come through very quickly. + +His thoughts were disturbed by the rattling of the iron bar across the +outside of his door. The door creaked open and a man in civilian clothes +entered. Stan heard the shuffle of feet outside in the hall and knew +armed guards were waiting. The civilian was a slender man with a big +nose and a very small chin. He looked at Stan out of little eyes set +close together. + +"Sorry to disturb your rest, Lieutenant Wilson." The man bowed stiffly. +"I am Domber." He said it as though Stan ought to know him once he had +mentioned his name. + +Stan nodded and remained seated on his cot. Domber rubbed his hands +together and smiled. + +"You will go with me," he said. "We will have a nice long talk." + +Stan got to his feet. Domber stepped to the door. He frowned at the two +armed guards waiting for them. + +"The military have odd ways. They always have guards about." + +"They are funny that way," Stan agreed dryly. + +They walked down the long hall and entered a small office. Its one wide +window looked out upon a tree-lined street. There were no bars on the +window and one of its side wings stood open. Stan saw people walking up +and down the street. An expanse of smooth turf lay between the window +and the sidewalk. Stan turned back to Domber, who had seated himself at +a desk. + +The office had nothing military about it. There were no war maps on the +wall. The only picture was one of Hitler, hung back of the desk. There +was an adding machine, two sets of files, several large cabinets with +steel doors, and a desk with a typewriter on it. Stan smiled at the +little blonde seated before the typewriter. She returned his smile with +a severe and steady look out of her gray eyes. No help there, Stan +thought. + +"Be seated," Domber said, pointing to a chair beside the desk. He fished +out a box of cigars, flipped the lid open, and extended the box toward +Stan. "Smoke?" + +"No, thanks," Stan said. + +Domber selected a cigar after turning several over. "Such poor cigars. +I'll be glad when the war is over and I can again import some of my +favorite Tampa Perfectos." He snipped the end off the cigar with a gold +clipper, then jabbed a full inch of the end into his mouth and rolled +the cigar around as though tasting its flavor. "Now," he said, "we will +get down to business." + +Stan leaned back and waited. + +"I went to considerable trouble to get this chance to talk with you. The +colonel is a bloody old coot. All he thinks of is shooting people. I +have other interests besides killing men. My hobby is planes." Domber +bent forward. + +Stan was instantly on the alert. He noticed the stenographer had placed +a sheet of notes on a rack and was clicking away on her typewriter, but +he did not think she was copying from her notes. He was sure she was +going to record what he said. + +"You have had a chance to work with many new ideas. You'll be with us +until after the war, so I see no reason why we shouldn't have a chat +about new wrinkles." He smiled and rolled his cigar. + +"I understood I was to be shot as a spy," Stan said. + +"The military is bent upon it, but I have much influence. I could have +you designated a prisoner of war. Tomorrow I will see the Fuerher +himself." + +"What do you want to know?" Stan realized this was a chance to stay +alive for a time. If he could interest Domber without giving away any +secrets, he might be given a chance to escape. + +"You were flying a P-51, a Mustang, the British call it." + +"Yes." + +"This ship has some very interesting equipment on it, some typically +American improvements." + +"Just what features do you mean?" Stan asked. + +"I operate a plane factory. We have been experimenting with a +supercharger. The one on the P-51 is something new. If you can recall +some of the details...." Domber leaned forward. + +"You haven't captured one intact yet?" Stan asked. + +"No, and the possibility seems quite remote. You Yanks have been very +clever in fixing it so that that particular piece of mechanism is always +smashed when a ship lands." + +"I'm not an instrument man. I just fly planes," Stan said. "But I have +had general instructions on the new dual supercharger." Stan spoke +slowly. + +"You might, perhaps, be able to suggest repairs for one that is partly +destroyed?" Domber asked eagerly. + +"I have patched together some badly hashed ships," Stan answered. + +Domber rubbed his hands together. "I think we shall have a very pleasant +time working upon a P-51," he said. + +"Don't get your hopes too high, I'm no expert," Stan said. + +"When one is sure to be turned over to Colonel Glotz as a spy, one is +apt to be quite successful as a mechanic, what?" Domber beamed. + +"If I don't make good on this I'm to be shot?" Stan looked Domber +squarely in the eye. + +"I'm afraid so. It would be very painful to me, I can assure you. I do +not like to see men shot. But we won't think of that. We'll have lunch +and then we'll get at the job." He turned and spoke to his secretary in +German, then shot a glance at Stan. + +"He wants to see if I understand German," Stan thought. He did not show +any interest and Domber smiled broadly. + +"We will go out to lunch now," he said. + +Outside the door the two guards fell in behind them. Stan smiled as he +thought of the appearance they made. Domber was dressed in a natty suit. +He wore spats and carried a small cane, which his secretary handed him +as he walked out. There was a red feather in the bow on his snap brim +felt hat. Stan was dressed in a wrinkled and soiled outfit that was +streaked with mud. + +They walked out of the building and entered a big car. The guards got in +with the driver and the car pulled away. Stan noted looks of hate and +fear on the faces of the Dutch people in the street as they watched the +car slide past. He had a hunch Domber was known to these people; he also +had a hunch the plane maker was hated and feared by them. They stopped +outside a big house where four guards stood watch over the entrance. The +guards saluted as Domber got out. He puffed up like a pouter pigeon and +shouted: + +"Heil Hitler!" + +They walked up the steps and entered the house. A man met them in the +vestibule. He took Domber's hat and cane and stared at Stan. + +"See that Lieutenant Wilson is furnished a complete outfit of clothing. +Show him to the east room." Domber spoke in English. + +"Yes, Herr Domber," the man said and bowed. + +"Run along with Herman," Domber said. "I'll be having a brandy in the +library." He turned away at once. + +Stan followed Herman up a wide stairway and into a large room. It was +furnished in a luxurious manner. Herman bowed at the door. + +"You will wish me to draw hot water for a bath?" he asked. + +"Thank you, Herman, I will take a hot bath. See that there's plenty of +soap." Stan grinned. + +Herman drew water in the bathroom and laid out snowy towels. Coming out +of the bathroom, he said: + +"I will lay out clothing for you." + +Stan lost no time in getting into the tub. He splashed and built up a +mountain of suds, then wallowed in them. As he lay there he suddenly +began to laugh. This was the oddest experience he had ever had. Yet +there was something sinister about it. Domber had a fishy coldness about +him that was chilling. Stan decided it was the way he looked out of his +little eyes. There seemed to be a smoldering hate back of the light in +those eyes. + +Herman had laid out clothing, a business suit which was very close to +Stan's size, fresh linen, a shirt, a tie and a pair of dress shoes. +Herman was nowhere in sight. + +Stan dressed slowly. The shoes fit well and so did the shirt. Herman was +an expert man's man. He had sized Stan up correctly. As he knotted the +tie, Stan walked to a wide window overlooking a garden. There were no +bars on the window and the garden was deserted. No guards paced back and +forth. Stan began to wonder if he was not supposed to escape again. + +Walking to the door he opened it. The hallway was empty. Stan walked +toward the back of the house and found a balcony with a flight of steps +leading to the garden below. He wondered what would happen if he walked +down those steps and into the garden. With a grin on his lips he did +just that. + +Stepping off the last step he strolled into the garden. No one +challenged him, so he walked around the house. He was standing looking +out into an alley lined with trees. Suddenly a man stepped out from +behind a wall and bowed to Stan. + +"Luncheon is ready," the man said in perfect English. + +Stan noticed, as the wind whipped open the man's coat, that he was +wearing a heavy shoulder holster. He smiled. The man reminded him of a +Chicago gangster he once had seen captured. + +"I was just going in," he said. Turning about he entered the house. +Herman appeared at once and bowed. Stan followed him into Domber's +library. A table had been set before an open fire. Domber was seated in +an easy chair, puffing on a cigar. + +"Have a pleasant stroll in the garden?" he asked. + +"You certainly requisitioned a nice place for yourself," Stan remarked. + +"Oh, I have owned this for years," Domber said. "This is my home." + +That accounted for the hated looks the people on the street had given +Domber as he passed. He was a Dutch Quisling, a traitor to his own +country. Domber seemed to read Stan's thoughts. + +"I always have been credited with having brains enough to take care of +my business and my own comforts," he said dryly. Then he smiled. "But +sit down. We will see what we have for luncheon." + +The common people of Germany might be eating poorly and tightening their +belts, but Herr Domber's table gave no hint of lack of supplies. There +was real coffee, strong and black, fruit, fish, fresh vegetables and a +roast squab for each diner. Stan put aside all unpleasant thoughts and +ate heartily. + +While they ate, Herr Domber kept up a steady conversation. He talked +about fighter planes. Stan was surprised at the things Domber revealed +in a casual way. He gave a very good description of the new secret +rocket which was doing so much damage to the Forts and Libs, even +telling Stan how it was handled. Once in a while he would ask a +question. Each time Stan matched wits against the traitor to keep from +telling him anything important. + +After a while Stan was convinced Domber was so sure he would never live +to repeat what he had heard that he felt no need to be careful about +what he told the Yank. + +"I have had many guests, Dutch, Norwegian, British and now an American." +Domber beamed. "I have enjoyed each of them, and I am sure they never +complained of my hospitality." + +Back of the genial manner Stan felt the cold threat of death lurking in +the way the traitor looked at him. Domber was very sure of himself and +of his power. Stan resolved that he was going to be one guest who fooled +the Dutch Quisling. + +After dinner Domber showed Stan his collection of war trophies and his +laboratory and workshop. The laboratory was far more elaborate than the +workshop. Stan was fascinated by the plants and animals Domber kept +there. Domber laughed softly. + +"I experiment much," he said. Then he added, "I have done much with +poison gas as well as with rare drugs." + +"You plan to use poison gas?" Stan asked. + +"If our plans work out well, yes," Domber said frankly. "If Minter's +work is well done and we are able to smash a large part of the British +and American air power, we will launch gas attacks upon the principal +English cities and later make an invasion." He smiled slightly. + +"You have the planes?" Stan asked. + +"For one big blow. First we smash the air power, then we attack. We have +endured much bombing to save air power for this." Domber had ceased +smiling and for the first time his hate came to the surface. He shrugged +his shoulders suddenly. "But we waste time. We will have a look at the +P-51." + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +MUSTANG + + +Herr Domber led the way from his shop and laboratory to the street +entrance where a car was waiting. He scowled at the guards outside his +door and shouted, "Heil Hitler!" Then he marched down the walk to the +car. This time no uniformed guards went along. There was just the +driver, Domber, and Stan. + +Stan was beginning to get the idea that the Dutch Quisling disliked the +military. But he was not fooled into thinking Domber did not have his +own henchmen. The driver of the car was a powerful fellow with beetled +brows and scowling face. As soon as they pulled away from the curb, +another car slipped in behind them and never left them until they parked +outside a walled enclosure. + +They were getting out of the car when a German military machine roared +up and stopped. Two officers got out and moved stiffly toward the spot +where Stan and Domber stood. + +"Heil Hitler," Domber said. Then he opened up with an angry flow of +German. + +The officers snapped back at him and a heated argument raged. Stan +gathered the officers were angry because Domber had taken Stan out +without a proper armed guard. Apparently Domber won the argument. The +officers saluted and made off. + +"Such fools. They fear you would escape," Domber explained. "I have told +them you would not get a hundred yards before you would be killed. No +one has ever escaped from the Bloodhound." + +"Bloodhound?" + +"That is a pet name my Dutch friends have given me." He smiled at Stan. +"But come, we are being delayed." + +A gate opened and a man in coveralls came up to meet them. Domber spoke +to him and the man walked with them to a locked door in a second wall. +Producing a key, he opened the door and let them through. + +Stan was startled by what he saw. There was a sunken runway leading into +an underground hangar. Domber beamed. + +"Not a bomb ever falls here. Above our shops there is a church and a +schoolhouse. We do much valuable research here and cannot afford to be +disturbed." + +Stan looked along the runway. It ended abruptly at a steel fence, but a +roadway went on in a twisting course, making detection of the runway +difficult. + +"Very clever," Stan said. + +"I was sure you'd appreciate it," Domber said. "Now we'll have a look at +the P-51." + +They entered the underground hangar by going down a shaft in an +elevator. Stepping out of the elevator Stan saw a well-lighted and +spacious hangar. Various planes stood along one high wall. There was a +Fort, a Wellington, two Spitfires, a Lockheed Lightning, and at the far +end in a wide shop space stood a new P-51. Her nose was pointed out +toward the runway and she looked ready to glide out from underground and +take off. Domber laughed. + +"I'm sorry, but it can't be done," he said as though Stan had spoken +his thoughts out loud. + +"Can't blame me for thinking about it, can you?" Stan asked. + +They walked over to the fighter. She had been patched up and looked +airworthy enough. + +"Mind if I go up?" Stan asked. + +A dozen men working in the shop stood watching. "No, go ahead," Domber +said. + +Stan climbed up and into the cockpit. A glance showed him that there had +been considerable instrument damage which the German mechanics had not +been able to repair. He noticed at once that the engine was hooked up to +a small portable gasoline tank. That meant she had no fuel in her except +just enough to make test runs of the engine. It probably was a fire +hazard measure, but it also was one reason why Domber was so willing to +let Stan get into the cockpit. + +The other reason Stan soon discovered. Looking out, he saw on each side +of the opening to the runway, batteries of aircraft cannon. Those guns +could lay a concentrated cross fire over the runway so deadly that any +plane would be blown to bits in a minute. + +Stan climbed down out of the cockpit. He faced Herr Domber. "Just what +was it you wanted me to do?" He had to stall for time, more time. + +"You will assemble and repair the supercharger on that plane. Every tool +you need will be at hand, and if you need an assistant I will furnish +you one who speaks English." Herr Domber was smiling as he spoke. + +"That's a big order," Stan said. + +"My experts could do this, but it might take several weeks and we do not +have that much time. We have such a ship as this one. All we need is a +supercharger to make it the best ship in the world. Naturally I am +anxious and do not wish to lose any time." + +"I'll need an English-speaking helper. I may have to have parts made and +I do not run a lathe," Stan said. + +Herr Domber called a man over to him. After listening for a few minutes +the man left. He returned a few minutes later with a youngster not more +than eighteen years of age. + +"Swen, you will be Lieutenant Wilson's assistant. Help him in every way +you can. You are under his orders," Herr Domber said. + +"Heil Hitler," Swen said and saluted. He was a blond, curly-headed kid +with a ready smile. Stan grinned at him and said: + +"We'll get along." + +"You may talk freely to Swen," Domber said. "He is a tested party man, +but he does not like killing, so he is a mechanic. I have to watch him +to keep the generals from stealing him and sending him off to Russia to +fight." Domber laughed, but Stan saw fear come into the boy's eyes. + +"Anyone else speak English in the shop?" he asked. "I might want another +man." + +"No others," Domber said. "Now we must get to work." + +Stan was supplied with a locker and a pair of coveralls. He was taken to +a special room in the shop. There he found parts from P-51's recently +shot down. The smaller shop was completely equipped. Three other men +worked at benches before a window. Stan was assigned to a vacant bench. +Before him lay part of the new dual turbo-supercharger. Other parts were +stacked on a table. + +"Know anything about one of these gadgets?" Stan asked Swen. + +"Gadget?" Swen repeated in a British accent. + +"Yank word for machine," Stan explained. + +"No, I have never seen one before," Swen replied. + +Herr Domber stood around for a little while, then made off. Stan grinned +at Swen. He had decided to work upon the kid. There might be a chance to +do something. Swen, like most young Germans, was deadly afraid of being +sent to the Russian front. It might be that he secretly hated the men +who bossed him. + +At the next bench a tall mechanic was working with a part from a +Spitfire. Stan moved over to the edge of his bench. + +"Hand me that wrench," he said to the tall German. + +The German reached over and handed Stan the wrench. Suddenly his face +became very red and he spoke angrily in German. + +"Thanks, buddy," Stan said. "I'm glad you speak American." + +The German shrugged his shoulders and went on working. Swen looked at +Stan and said: + +"I am your helper. I could have handed you that wrench." + +"I just wanted to be sure Heinie, here, could understand everything we +say. I noticed that he was just playing with that oil gauge. It's an old +type that's been out of use for four years." + +The tall German's face got redder. He growled something and moved away. +Stan figured he was going to report he had been spotted. + +"Now, Swen," Stan said, "we're going to be friends, you and I." + +Swen looked scared. "Heil Hitler," he said. "I am not to be your +friend." + +"You won't get hurt," Stan said softly. "Just tell them everything I +tell you when they question you tonight." + +"They will kill you," Swen said in a low voice. "Herr Domber poisoned +the other one. He will do the same to you." + +"Tell me about it quickly. They won't be leaving us alone without a +spotter very long," Stan said. + +"I do not know how it was done. I heard the Gestapo men laughing about +it. The British flier thought he was going to get away. He fixed up his +plane and had gasoline enough for much testing. But after he had it +running and they learned what they wanted to know about it, he just fell +over dead." + +"That is quicker than working it out by themselves. Not much, but a few +days," Stan said grimly. + +At that moment the tall German who had been working at the next bench +came running up. He was out of breath when he halted before Stan. + +"I am to be your helper." He turned upon Swen. "Get out into the shop." + +"Sorry to lose you, Swen," Stan called after the boy. He turned to the +new helper. "They sure sent you back on the run. Did you get a good +skinning?" + +The German scowled at Stan. "I am to take orders," he muttered. + +Stan laughed. The softhearted Swen had been planted on him. They were +supposed to get chummy while the tall mechanic listened and picked up +anything of value which might be said. + +"What am I supposed to call you?" Stan asked. + +"Hans," the mechanic said shortly. + +"Well, Hans, we'll have a try at assembling this thing," Stan said. + +Stan worked on the supercharger all that afternoon and convinced himself +that he could fit it together and make it work. Toward evening Herr +Domber came back. He halted beside the bench and looked at the machinery +there. + +"You have had some success?" + +"I don't know," Stan said innocently. "I'll have to try it out on the +ship." + +"Certainly," Domber agreed. "Of course. When will you wish to try it +out?" + +"Tomorrow afternoon," Stan said. + +"If you worked tonight you could try it out in the morning?" Domber +suggested with a leer. + +"Yes, I guess so," Stan said. + +"Fine. I know you won't mind working tonight." + +"Of course not," Stan said and felt an itch to lay his fist against Herr +Domber's receding chin. + +"You will honor me by having dinner with me tonight?" + +"Certainly," Stan said and laughed. He might as well live high while he +could live. + +As they went out to enter Domber's car, Stan asked, "Why do you go to +all of this fuss? I can't understand you Germans. There was a lot of +fuss in planning to let us escape. Now you are putting on a big show for +me. You could get results without it." + +"We have much humor," Domber said. "I have my own little jokes and enjoy +them." He smiled at Stan. + +Stan thought about the R.A.F. flier who had been poisoned after he +revealed what Domber wanted to know. He decided Herr Domber was a bit of +a maniac as well as an enemy and a traitor to Holland. + +After an excellent dinner Stan was taken back to the job. Herr Domber +was in high spirits. Hans was waiting at the bench. Stan saw at once +that the mechanic had been trying to fit the machinery together. With a +grin he fished several parts out of his coverall pocket and set to work. + +As he worked he began to plan. If he was to be poisoned, it likely would +be done shortly before the tryout. He would have to watch closely. He +would drink nothing and he would eat nothing. And he would keep two +vitally important parts hidden until he had to put them into place. He +also would be very careful no one bumped into him and jabbed him with a +hypodermic needle. The last method of poisoning did not seem to fit in +with the character of Herr Domber. His method would be cunning and +crafty, and it would be done with a lot of showmanship. + +Nobody but Herr Domber, Stan decided, would have thought up such a crazy +method of saving a few days time, and of making away with a prisoner of +war. If he was called to face charges after the war, he could claim Stan +Wilson had turned traitor to his country and disclosed secrets before +meeting an accidental death. + +Stan looked at the machine on the bench. He was taking chances with +valuable secrets, but if he escaped he would be able to stop a mass +slaughter of British and American planes and men, perhaps even a gas +attack upon England. He decided it was worth the risk. + +"You work very slow," Hans complained. + +"You're here to take orders," Stan snapped. + +Hans jumped and scowled at Stan. He was so used to being snapped at that +he reacted without thought. Stan laughed. + +"You jump like monkeys when they yell at you, don't you?" he said. + +"Pig," Hans muttered under his breath. + +Stan went to work again. At twelve o'clock he took off his coveralls and +slipped several parts into his coat pocket. + +"Tell the boss I'm ready to go to bed," he said. + +Hans made off and while he was gone Stan did a few things to the +supercharger. Hans came back quickly. + +"Herr Domber will call for you," he said, then seated himself and +lighted a cigarette. + +Domber appeared a half-hour later, dressed in evening clothes. He was +beaming. + +"You have everything ready for a tryout in the morning?" he asked. + +"Everything," Stan assured him. + +"I must have a look at the machine," Domber said. He walked to the bench +and spent a half-hour studying the supercharger. Finally he turned to +Stan. "How much testing will be required to adjust it?" + +"It can only be adjusted by running the motor," Stan said and did not +smile. "I should say the plane could be ready for flight by afternoon." + +"You will run it that long?" + +"It may take even longer," Stan said. "This is a delicate bit of +machinery and I am not too familiar with it. I have only had a general +course in its construction." + +"In that case we will have the tanks connected and filled with +gasoline." Domber smiled broadly. + +"That will save time, and I understand that's what you are interested +in," Stan said. + +"Time, yes, we have to work fast." + +Stan grinned. He knew that Herman Goering's Air Ministry was wild with +fear and grasping at every straw of help they could get for their +fighter planes. They had to have something that would stop the +Fortresses and Liberators, or their cities would be destroyed, and they +had to have it quick. + +"Haven't you ever thought that I might sabotage this job?" he asked. + +"I think not," Domber said. "I am a student of the human mind. When I +have studied a man I know just about what he will do. I know you do not +wish to be turned over to the Gestapo and given the treatment they use +to get information." + +"No, I guess I'm not that much of a hero," Stan said. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +ZERO HOUR + + +As Stan worked on the supercharger he went over his plans carefully. +With everything about ready to make tests, he was beginning to wonder if +the story Swen had told him was not just the wild fancy of a scared kid. +He even thought of the possibility that Swen had been planted to get him +off on the wrong track. There had been so many crazy things happening +that he could not afford to overlook any angle. + +He had three mechanics helping him, with Hans giving his orders to the +two who spoke no English. As he worked he began to wonder if he had not +been neatly tricked. He was sure that at least one of the men hanging +around watching him was a Luftwaffe pilot. No one interfered with his +work or tried to tell him what to do. He was having as free a hand as +though he had been working in a shop of the Eighth Air Force. Some of +the men scowled at him, but most of them just watched with interest and +with something else. Stan guessed they were eagerly waiting for the trap +to spring. Then they could have a big laugh on the dumb Yank. + +The supercharger parts were about installed in the ship. Stan checked +the gasoline supply. There was just enough to fly him out over the +channel if he took off before he used too much. Once out over the +channel he might be able to water-crash the P-51 near a British patrol +or pick-up boat. The trouble was that the instant the engine began to +work the trap would be sprung on him. He had to figure that one out +fast. + +Swen showed up and hung around watching along with the other mechanics. +He grinned at Stan once and shook his head. Stan winked at him. Herr +Domber showed up in a sports outfit. His white spats gleamed and his +yellow tie shone. Domber was in a very genial mood. + +"You are progressing?" he asked. + +"I'm getting the thing together, but I don't know whether it will +work," Stan said. + +"We will have lunch at a cafe downtown today," Herr Domber said without +the flicker of an eye. "I have a special cafe in mind where the sea food +is excellent and the wine very choice." + +"That will be fine," Stan said and grinned as he hoisted himself up into +the ship. + +He lay inside the fuselage and looked at the supercharger. There was one +valve which he had not fitted. He was afraid that if he fitted that +valve into place the Mustang would purr like a cat. He was now convinced +that the Germans had had all of their trouble with the air mixture and +the pressure intake. His instructions on the new machine had been very +detailed on these points. They were the secrets of the new supercharger. + +Stan plugged the valve opening with a wad of cotton waste and tucked the +valve into his pocket. Of one thing he was sure, the Mustang's engine +had to be hot if he expected to snap her out of that hangar. And in +getting her hot he did not dare let her show signs of running smoothly. +Climbing out of the fuselage, he called to Hans: + +"We'll turn her up." He wiped sweat from his forehead. The air in the +hangar was hot, kept that way to make engine starting easy. + +Hans and his men wound up the Mustang. Stan climbed into the cockpit and +got set. From where he sat he could see, through a plate he had removed +from the panel, the adjustment valve he had seated with waste. He could +reach it by bending over. + +The Mustang's engine turned over and she sputtered once or twice but +refused to start. The wad of waste was no good. He had to seat the +valve. Looking out he shook his head to Hans. Then he noticed that +Domber was talking to an artillery captain over by the gate. He was +shaking his head and making violent gestures. + +Stan watched him carefully. It might be that Domber was telling the gun +captain not to blast the P-51 if it made a run. In that case Domber had +plans even if Stan got the ship away. Domber came back to the P-51 and +Stan looked the other way as he bent forward and seated the valve. + +The tough part was that if he hit the mixture just right in seating that +valve the engine would hit it off at once. Stan knew how those Allisons +worked. Given a hot room they might flip right over and go off with a +bang. He climbed out of the cockpit and made a few last checks on the +outside. + +A water boy came up and the men crowded around for drinks. Stan watched +the water boy carefully. He was again thinking about the poison +business. The water was in a pail and the men were dipping it out in a +tin cup. That did not look dangerous and Stan was very thirsty. He +turned his back and climbed into the cockpit again. He was down inside, +working on a repaired cable. Close to his face was the hole where the +shell had ripped through and severed the cable. + +Suddenly Stan heard someone whispering. It was the voice of Herr Domber. + +"Get set, fool, and when the boy offers him a drink you are to shake +your head. In that way he will think he has escaped being poisoned. He +is just stalling now. I want this ship tuned up. If you fail, it is the +Russian front for you." + +"Yes, sir. Heil Hitler," Swen's voice answered. + +Stan grinned broadly. He finished with the cable. One thing was sure. +The poison story had been a gag to make him think he had outwitted +Domber. He climbed out of the cockpit and walked over to Hans. + +"We'll hit her again," he said. + +Turning back he noted that several of the mechanics had moved in close. +A quick glance showed bulges under their coveralls which looked a lot +like army pistols or automatics. The water boy moved toward Stan. +Looking past the boy Stan saw Swen. Swen began shaking his head as Stan +looked at the water pail. Stan pretended not to see him, though Swen was +squarely in front of him. + +Reaching down he took the tin cup, filled it, and drank deeply. He had a +second drink, then tossed the cup to the boy. As he did so, he shot a +side glance at Herr Domber and almost burst out laughing. Domber's face +was red and his mouth was screwed into a snarl. Suddenly Stan felt sorry +for Swen. He nodded to Hans as he climbed up. + +Looking down he saw the mechanics with their bulging coveralls crowding +in close. Several of them had ripped their suits open and had their +hands inside. Stan eased back against the shock pad. The left brake was +the one to kick down hard. He had shoved the chock out from under the +right wheel. He had a momentary feeling that the builders of the Mustang +should have extended the armor plate further forward. The men on the +ground would have a clean shot at him. They were well forward now and +watching him like cats at a rat hole. + +Hans kicked the engine over to prime her. Stan got set and eased on the +switch. She turned over slowly, fired twice, idled, then fired again. +Sweat broke out over Stan's forehead. Below him the faces of Domber and +his men blurred. The engine kept on rumbling and sputtering. Stan +relaxed as he pretended to be working on the gas adjustment. + +He gave the valve a turn and the Allison smoothed considerably. Leaving +it that way he looked down at Hans, a deep frown on his face. He shook +his head and motioned to the mechanic. Hans did not know what he +wanted, but he moved around to the side of the ship. Stan was sorry to +have to use Hans as a shield but he knew, now, that a quarter turn more +on the valve would set the Allison roaring. What he needed was a bit +more heat on his temperature gauge, and he wanted to keep Hans in line. + +Bending over he bellowed at Hans, making his words jumble together. Hans +looked blank and shook his head. Stan scowled at him. Then he got a +bright idea. He looked over at Domber and beckoned to him. Domber came +over. He was shorter than Hans. Stan reached down and bellowed: + +"Get up and I'll show you how to adjust this type of supercharger!" + +He even gave Herr Domber a hand up on the step. Domber leaned into the +cockpit. Stan pointed to the valve. His fingers closed over it and began +to turn it. Then his right arm shot out. His fingers gripped Domber's +yellow tie. The Dutch Quisling's eyes bulged and he pulled back. + +In that instant the Allison surged into full, smooth power. Stan kicked +down on one brake and snapped her around. Like a falcon launching out +from a limb, the Mustang shot toward the opening ahead. Stan held Domber +over the edge of the open hatch until the ship was out in the sunshine, +then he gave the little Quisling a shove. + +Hoiking the tail of the Mustang, he hopped her suddenly. It was a trick +he had depended upon to save him from the guns. As she shot upward he +saw flame and fire rip the runway. The blast was so close to his belly +that it sheared away most of the landing gear. Stan banked and dropped +back down toward the roofs of the city. As he laid over he saw the +withering fire on the runway lift. Amid the ripped up slabs of cement he +saw a man lying sprawled on his face. He was half covered by a slab of +concrete. + +"One for the Dutch patriots," Stan said grimly. + +As he roared over the rooftops, Stan leaned back and laughed. He would +have to fly low because the high-level dual supercharger was not +working. All he had done was adjust the regular carburization system. +He had not taken chances on his work on the high-altitude machinery. + +There were no Nazi planes in the air. There had been no alert. Stan was +sure there would be no attack until he reached Rotterdam. Using the +tactics of the Rhubarb Raiders he flew low over the tile roofs and the +windmills. + +In a surprisingly short time, the Mustang broke out over Rotterdam and +Stan straightened his course. His compass was out, the gyro-horizon had +been removed and both clocks were stopped. The radio had been stripped +out of the ship along with every other instrument not absolutely +necessary to test flight. Domber had only wanted to learn about the +supercharger. His egotism in believing everyone else was dull-witted +compared to himself had saved Stan. + +Over the estuary of the Rhine River Stan met his first flak. A startled +battery opened up as he flipped over so low down he could see the +buttons on the artillery men's uniforms. The firing was wild, but it +roused gunners out on the Hook of Holland. There the Jerries did some +closer shooting. But Stan was dusting the concrete emplacements and the +gunners did not get their hearts into the job. Stan flipped up over blue +water with a grin on his face. + +Checking his gasoline supply, he judged he could get to the middle of +the channel. He had no parachute and no life belt or Mae West suit to +float him. The chill water of the channel would soon drag him down. He +had to locate a patrol boat or a British ship of some other class. And +he had to watch for Messerschmitts and Focke-Wulf fighters. + +High above him he spotted three fighter craft. He saw them wheel and +bank into the sun. They would be coming downstairs to have a look. +Possibly they had been warned by radio to look for him. A minute later +he spotted five more planes and these he was able to check. They were FW +190 fighters and they were coming up from the direction of Ostende on +the Belgium coast. Then he saw two Me 109 Stingers slipping in from the +other side. Stan kicked the Mustang wide open. No use trying to save gas +by holding cruising speed. He had to get away from that coast. + +The Mustang knifed ahead and Stan bent forward as the air-speed +indicator rolled up to just under four hundred miles per hour. There was +no more boost and he longed for the dual supercharger. The FW's dropped +in behind, unable to head him off, but the Me's came on like falcons +trapping a homing pigeon. Stan felt a good deal like a pigeon. He was +unarmed and he was carrying a vital message that had to get through. He +dived down close to the water and roared ahead. + +One Me dived in on him and zoomed over him. Stan felt lead spattering +all over his ship and saw cannon shells hit the sea close below his +wings. The second Me came in and Stan slipped a bit, kicking the top of +a wave with his port wing. + +The Jerry was coming down at a terrific rate. He did not think any sane +flier would be zooming along on the crests of the waves. When Stan +dipped, the Jerry missed him and shot past. Stan pulled up sharply just +as a great cloud of water and smoke lifted above the sea. The Jerry had +hit nose-on. Stan saw the tail of his ship and one square-tipped wing +rise above the green water, then slip from sight. + +In coming up Stan went over the third Me. It managed to flatten out but +went skidding along the tops of the waves for a half mile before it got +into the air again. + +That gave Stan his chance to get away. He could outrun the Me's once he +got them down on his level, where they could not use their diving speed. +But the three fighter craft he had first spotted were coming down now. +They were dangerous ships. All three of them were FW 190's, and diving +on an enemy from above is a job the FW does best. + +Stan settled down close to the channel again and kept racing on. The +FW's were sloping in at a screaming pace. Stan felt their first lead as +it hailed around him. He stayed in the fire a split second, then bounced +up and over. He saw the three FW's far below him. They were coming +around for another climb. + +"Sorry, fellows, but I just can't wait," Stan muttered. + +He nosed down again and used the slope to build up speed. Suddenly he +glanced at his gasoline indicator. It was getting wobbly. Stan went up +again to have a look around. Far ahead he spotted two black specks with +smoke pluming up over them. That meant larger ships than patrol boats. +They might be German light destroyers on patrol, but they were the only +craft in sight. He had to make a try for them. + +Sloping off again, he roared away toward the ships. Slowly their hulls +became larger and Stan saw that they were destroyers, small, sleek, and +fast. They were plowing along at top speed, which was not a good sign. +German craft in those waters would be making knots because Allied planes +kept a sharp watch over the channel. + +Stan went in at top speed. He was still a long way from the two ships +when his engine quit. It went out without any sputtering at all, and it +refused to rev up a single blast. + +Flying so low, Stan knew he would not stay up over any great distance. +He felt the Mustang begin to settle. The ships were closer now, but he +still had not identified them. That no longer mattered. If they were +German he would just sink with the Mustang. Considerable haze and smoke +enveloped the ships. They were putting about and swinging away from him +so that the smoke kept them covered. Stan had a wild notion they thought +he was trying to torpedo them and were taking evasive measures. + +"Germans," he said between his gritted teeth. + +Then the Mustang shot through the smoke, grazed the prow of one of the +destroyers, and settled into the channel with a terrific splash. Stan +heard anti-aircraft guns blasting away and saw flame and smoke belching +from dozens of gun muzzles above him. "They aim to finish me off right," +he thought wryly. + +He promptly forgot his resolve to go down with the Mustang. Pawing the +hatch cover open he heaved himself out of the cockpit and tumbled into +the water. A big wave rolled over him and the suction from the sinking +Mustang dragged him down. Savagely he battled his way to the surface. He +was pawing and sputtering but able to swim strongly. + +Looking up he saw that he was close beside the destroyer or her sister +ship, he did not know which. Something white came sailing down toward +him and he heard a voice shout to him: + +"Blimey, old man! Grab the preserver!" + +Then Stan saw that two other life preservers had been tossed to him. He +swam to the nearest one and grabbed it. He was shaking from the cold +water but he laughed. The destroyer was flying the ensign of His +Majesty's Royal Navy. + +A few minutes later a boat picked him up and he was rowed to the +destroyer. Climbing aboard he was met by the commander. Stan saluted the +officer. + +"Lieutenant Stan Wilson, Eighth Air Force, reporting, sir," he said. + +The commander looked at Stan's clothes, then smiled. "Where were you +going with that Mustang, Lieutenant?" he asked. + +"I was headed for home, sir. You mistook me for a Jerry and started +shooting." + +"No, we knew what you were. We just bagged two Focke-Wulf fighters off +your tail. But you can report in detail after we get you into some dry +clothing." + +Stan followed the commander to the officer's quarters. After climbing +into a navy blanket and swallowing hot tea, Stan told the commander his +story. He did not keep anything back. When he had finished, the +commander said: + +"We could radio in a warning, but I think High Command might appreciate +it if we took no chances. We'll put in and rush you right to Eighth Air +Force headquarters. That way the Germans won't be able to learn +anything." + +"The FW that got away will report I was blasted into the sea. Anyway, I +have a personal score to settle with a Nazi who is passing himself off +as a pal of mine." + +"Better get in touch with the big boys first," the commander advised. + +"I'll take care of both jobs," Stan promised. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +SPY HUNT + + +The commander of the destroyer placed Stan in the hands of a British +Intelligence Officer. Having had some experience with British methods of +sending all reports through regulation channels before acting upon them, +Stan merely requested that he be rushed to his headquarters at once. + +"Certainly, old fellow," the officer said. "But that will be a bit +awkward, you know. Everything is upset and everybody is very busy. +There's a big show in the making. I'll do my best. Should be able to +deliver you there by morning." + +"Don't bother, if that is as fast as you can get me there," Stan said. +"I'll find a way out to my outfit." + +"No trouble at all, glad to help you. I'll get you a room and you can +get a nice sleep. Bright and early I'll be around with a car." The +officer made it clear he was in a big hurry to be off. + +"Thanks a lot," Stan said. "I'll see you later." + +The officer stared at him as Stan turned and barged out of the little +office where the Navy had left him. News of a big air push made it +necessary for him to get into action at once. He had to report his +information in time to halt the operations, or catch Egbert Minter +before he reported to Berlin. Getting a report to his own flight +commander seemed the quickest way. + +Without his Yank officer's uniform Stan was at a disadvantage. The +destroyer commander had had his civilian suit cleaned and pressed for +him and he was wearing it, having discarded the coveralls he had worn in +the German shop. Standing on a street corner in the coast village, Stan +realized that he was dressed as a German civilian. Getting a ride would +not be so easy. Then he began to understand why the Intelligence Officer +had wanted to hold him overnight. Intelligence had not been so sure the +destroyer commander knew all about Stan. + +Grinning broadly he hurried down the street. A few people stared at him +and one man pointed him out to another. A bobby turned and stood +watching him. Stan halted abruptly. The policeman was walking toward +him. Suddenly Stan realized that he did not have a scrap of evidence on +him to prove he was a Yank officer. The Germans had taken all +identification away from him. + +A man came up the street and halted the bobby. He showed the policeman +something. The bobby looked at Stan, then turned back to his beat. The +man sauntered on a few steps and paused to look into a shop window. At +once Stan knew he was being trailed by British Intelligence. He had a +hunch he would be picked up soon. + +Entering a shop he smiled at a girl leaning on a counter. "May I use +your telephone?" he asked. + +"Over there." The girl pointed to a small booth. + +Stan went into the little room. He got a connection and asked for Eighth +Air Force headquarters after convincing the operator that he was a +stranded flier. A voice at the other end of the line said in a very +irritated manner: + +"We are accepting nothing but accredited calls until tomorrow." + +"This is vitally important. I must speak to General Gilmer. This is +Lieutenant Stan Wilson speaking. I've just escaped from Germany. A +British destroyer put me ashore." + +"Where are you calling from?" + +"Ramsgate." + +"Get in touch with British Intelligence there. We can't put you through +to the general." + +"Then get me Colonel Holt." + +"He is in conference. Now clear the wire." + +"Don't hang up or I'll have your stripes!" Stan shouted. + +"Yes, sir," the voice said quickly. + +That meant the operator was a non-com which would make it a little +easier. + +"Get me Lieutenant Allison at Mess 187. Make it quick." + +The operator did some plugging and after a bit came back with a report. + +"Lieutenant Allison has shifted to fighter group. He is at 155, +Interceptor Base." + +"Get him!" Stan snapped. + +The operator began plugging again and Stan waited. He saw the man +shadowing him standing out at the counter drinking a cup of tea. After a +long wait he heard Allison's voice. + +"Hello there?" + +"This is Stan. Hold it! Listen! I'm at Ramsgate and have to get to +headquarters at once. Can't tell you how I got here, but I'm about to be +grabbed by British Intelligence. I'm dressed like a German business +man." + +"I say, old man, this is topping." Stan heard him shout to O'Malley. + +"Is Sim Jones there?" + +"Yes, he was here. I don't see him, but I'm sure he's around. Want to +talk to him?" + +"No, but either you or O'Malley keep an eye on him. Don't let him get +out of your sight. If he leaves the mess, follow him!" + +"I say, what's up?" Allison was clearly startled. + +"Do as I say, and get Colonel Holt. Tell him to pick me up here at +once. Even if he has to come himself. I'm about to be grabbed by a +plain-clothes man. But I'll be at British Intelligence here at +Ramsgate." + +The Intelligence man was in the door of the booth. "That will be enough +talk," he said gruffly. "Any other messages you have I'll send for you." +He reached over and hung up the phone before Stan could say another +word. + +"Listen, Officer. Take me back to the Intelligence Office," Stan said. +"My commander will call for me there." + +"You are acting very strangely, my man. Why didn't you make this call +from the office? It could have been checked there." The officer laid a +big hand on Stan's arm. + +"I'll make one from there," Stan said. "I'll admit I should have put +this one through from your office, but I did not know I was to be +followed and I didn't stop to think how I would look in these clothes." + +"I have orders to handle this myself in case you showed any suspicious +actions. I think you have acted plenty suspicious. I'm taking you to +the London office. We'll have to check this call you just made and get +you identified." + +"I can't waste all that time," Stan protested. "I have to get out to my +outfit." + +The officer smiled. "I think I've landed one of the boys we're after. We +have had a tip that the Germans have planted a group of the smoothest +men they have over here. So far we haven't been able to put a hand on a +single man of them. But you fit the picture neatly." + +"Why?" Stan asked. + +"Well, you are an escaped pilot. That's the way they have been coming +in. They are always able to slip through because they know all about the +outfit they were supposed to have been with. They're even supposed to +look exactly like the officers lost over Germany." The officer laughed. +"The more I look at you, the more convinced I am that we've landed one +of them at last. Come along." + +Stan walked beside the officer. He felt like kicking himself for +bungling. If the time were not so short everything could be +straightened out. But he was sure the first waves of the giant air +attack were about due to start, possibly before midnight. Allison had +said Minter was not around. He and O'Malley might not be able to locate +the spy. + +"Here's my car," the secret-service man said. + +Stan paused beside the sleek roadster. The officer opened the door. Stan +stepped inside. The officer walked around the car. Stan leaned over the +side. + +"Aren't you going to do anything about this flat tire?" he asked. + +"Another flat?" the officer said in disgust. "That's the third one this +week. It's about time I had some new tires." He got out and started +around the car. + +Stan reached over and flipped on the switch. He slid under the wheel and +stepped on the starter. The engine hit at once and Stan slammed the +gears into mesh. The roadster leaped ahead, then stalled. Stan opened +the choke and the car leaped again, its tires showering the agent with +gravel. + +"Stop or I'll fire!" the officer shouted. + +Stan bent down and hit a near-by corner. He did not want to have a real +blowout. He wanted to get as near headquarters as he could before the +British police headed him off. The car careened around the corner and +headed down a tree-lined street. Dusk was beginning to settle and Stan +switched on the lights. He was disgusted to see that the lights were +hooded for blackout driving. + +Stan knew exactly how to get where he was going, but he avoided the main +road and went careening down lanes and along narrow trails hemmed in by +hedges. The car attracted little attention since it was an official +vehicle and clearly marked. + +Just when he figured he was going to make it in spite of the dim +headlights and the fact that darkness had settled, he burst out of a +lane into a village. He recognized the place at once. He was just two +miles from his objective, but two military cars blocked the road ahead. +Stan was sure they were waiting for him. He did not drive on to find +out. Cutting the switch he slid out of the car and ducked over a hedge. + +The car rolled on in the darkness while Stan sprinted along the hedge. +He passed through a back yard two jumps ahead of a shaggy dog and headed +up an alley. A few minutes later he was hurrying down the blacked-out +street. + +Reaching a tavern Stan saw two bicycles shoved into a rack beside the +door. One of them was locked but the other was loose. Stan slipped it +out and headed up the street again. He was mounting the cycle when he +heard shouts down the street and men running. Dimmed car headlights +gleamed. The officers were on his trail again. Stan ducked into a narrow +path and pedaled away as hard as he could. + +The officers chasing him drove along the road, which ran parallel to the +lane. They had a spotlight on one of the cars which they kept moving in +wide circles. Finally the light passed over Stan and the men began +shouting for him to halt. The light came back and held on him. + +Stan sent the bike into a cross path and was out of the beam and headed +away from the road. He pedaled furiously. The men were out of the cars +and running after him. At the first left-hand turn Stan headed back in +the direction he wanted to go and kept pumping away. + +The shouting behind him died down and he began to think he had evaded +his pursuers. Suddenly the lane broke out into the main road. Stan +headed down the road. He could see the looming bulk of a hangar against +the sky and knew that he was nearing headquarters. Suddenly he heard a +car behind him. Looking back he saw that one of the cars was close upon +him. He kept on pedaling but the car rapidly gained on him. It was very +close when he saw a gate ahead. + +With five British officers on his heels, Stan ditched the bike and +sprinted for the gate. Under shaded lights he saw two Yank soldiers. He +reached them ten yards ahead of the Britishers, having outrun the +secret-service men. The guards barred the way. + +"Get a guard and take me to headquarters," Stan snapped. + +"We turn all civilians over to the local police," one of the guards +said. He grinned at Stan. "Looks like they were right on the job, too." + +"They think I'm a spy, but I'm an Eighth Air Force officer and I have +important information for Colonel Holt, my commander." Stan spoke +sternly. + +The British officers closed in. Their leader said: + +"Come now. You led us a hot chase but you won't get away again." + +"Colonel Holt will vouch for me," Stan said. + +"What was the last password we used here?" the guard asked. "The one in +use when you left." + +Stan grinned and stepped forward. "Port wing," he said. + +The two guards stared hard at him. "He has it," one of them said. The +other turned to the British officials. "We'll take him to Colonel Holt. +You can come along. If he's a phony you can have him." + +"Now you're talking sense," Stan said. + +The guard made a call and two soldiers appeared. One of the British +officials went along, but it was clear they had begun to believe Stan. +The guards took Stan straight to the administration building. Stan and +the secret-service man were led to a small room off the operations room. +Within five minutes Colonel Holt appeared. + +"Wilson!" he almost shouted. "Where in heck did you come from?" + +"I came in just one jump ahead of Scotland Yard," Stan answered and +grinned at the Britisher. + +"Guess I'll be running along. Sorry we took you for a Jerry," the man +said. + +"You did a fine job. Stick around. We may be able to grab one of the men +you are looking for," Stan said. + +"You got out of Germany?" Colonel Holt asked. "The Germans seem to be +getting slack about prisoners lately. O'Malley and Jones got back a few +days ago." + +"O'Malley got back but not Jones. The Jones who got here is a spy. I'll +give you the story briefly." + +Stan outlined the whole scheme. When he had finished, Colonel Holt +rushed him in to the officers meeting where the final touches were +being made on plans for the big raid. Stan had an audience composed of +generals and other high-ranking officials for the next fifteen minutes. +Then phones began to buzz. The R.A.F. was notified to hold up. Stan soon +found himself out of the meeting. He headed for his barracks. Officers +had been sent to round up Egbert Minter, but Stan had a hunch he might +be able to locate the phony Sim Jones before the officers found him. + +Stan found Splinters Wright in the Nissen hut. Splinters leaped to his +feet when Stan opened the door. He had a service automatic in his hand +and the light of battle in his eyes. + +"Oh, it's you," he said and seemed disappointed. + +"Who were you expecting?" Stan asked. + +"O'Malley left me here to grab Sim Jones when he comes in," Splinters +explained. He grinned broadly. "You sure started a little war around +this hut." + +"Where's Allison and O'Malley?" Stan asked as he began getting out of +his civilian clothes and into a uniform. + +"They tore out of here like wild men. I'd hate to be Sim Jones if +O'Malley locates him. We've all been wondering about that bird. He has +acted half cracked since he got back." + +"He isn't Sim Jones, he's Egbert Minter, a German spy," Stan explained. +"And we have to grab him." + +"O'Malley seemed to have a clue," Splinters said. "Bugs Monahan went +with him and Allison." + +"That Sim's locker?" Stan asked. + +"Yes." + +Stan walked over to the locker and opened it. Inside hung one of Sim +Jones' uniforms and a few other things. Stan examined the uniform, then +turned to the toilet kit. There was nothing there. He opened the +first-aid kit. It contained sulfa pills, powder for dusting, and other +medicines. Stan picked a roll of bandage out of the kit and looked at it +intently. The bandage was packaged to keep it sterile. Suddenly Stan +ripped open the package and unrolled a strip of the bandage. It came +away freely because there were only a couple of yards of it. Under the +bandage was a roll of adding machine tape. Stan whistled softly and +Splinters crowded close to look. + +The tape was covered with figures and fine, even German writing. + +"Can you read Kraut?" Splinters asked. + +"No," Stan said softly. "But our Intelligence Department can." + +At that moment the door banged open. The boys turned and found +themselves staring into the muzzle of a service revolver. Above the +barrel glinted the eyes of Egbert Minter. + +"Toss that gun on the floor," he snarled. + +"Toss it," Stan said sharply as he saw Splinters' arm muscles begin to +tighten. "This bird will shoot." + +"You are right, Lieutenant Wilson. Now give me that roll of tape. It +contains valuable data regarding the Eighth Air Force." He stepped +closer and Stan passed over the roll. + +"You'll never get out of camp with it," Stan said softly. "I have tipped +the boys off to your little game." + +"I will take it back to Germany," Minter said. "But before I go I will +see that you do not make more trouble for us. You are a very capable +man, Lieutenant Wilson." + +"You flatter me," Stan said smoothly. "But how are you going to get back +to Germany?" + +"Don't try to stall for time. I have killed your pals, Allison and +O'Malley, the idiotic Irishman. Now it is your turn. I shall break a +container of Herr Domber's gas in this room before I lock you in." + +"Is that the way you killed Allison and O'Malley?" Stan asked. A +dangerous light had begun to flicker in his eyes. + +"It is and I will go back to the hut where I left them. I have a radio +there and will send a message. Two hours later I will be crossing the +channel on a British patrol boat. You know we have captured a few." +Minter smiled. He could not help gloating over his victims. + +"You Nazis have very nice habits," Stan remarked. + +"Yes, we are efficient." Minter laughed. "This hut is made of corrugated +iron, the floor is cement, the windows are steel with such small panes. +You will die like rats!" + +"Interesting, but I prefer to be shot!" As he spoke Stan dived in a +lightning-like leap, straight at Minter. The Nazi's gun flamed and Stan +felt a blow like the smashing of a big fist against his chest. The gun +flamed again, its fire searing Stan's neck, then he had closed with the +German and had forced his gun arm down. Splinters had dived in and hit +the Nazi around the knees. They went down in a twisting, writhing mass +with Stan's blood spattering over all three. + +Splinters got the gun and brought its butt down on Minter's head. He +slumped down and rolled free of Stan. Splinters stood up. + +"You're hit bad," he said. + +"I'm all right. Get some water and bring him around. We have to locate +his hut and the radio. He must have others helping him." Stan steadied +himself with an effort. He was beginning to feel sick to his stomach. + +Splinters got water and doused the Nazi, while Stan tore open his shirt +and began plugging an ugly wound in his shoulder. He had to sink down on +a bunk to do it. But he refused to give in. He had to get to the death +hut and rescue O'Malley and Allison. The medics might be able to save +them. + +Minter opened his eyes slowly. He groaned and pulled himself to a +sitting posture. + +"Take that container away from him," Stan ordered. Minter had pulled a +square glass container from under his coat. It was attached there by a +leather strap with a snap on it. Splinters grabbed the container and +unsnapped it. + +"No, you don't," he growled. + +"We have to make him talk," Stan said thickly. His head was beginning to +feel light and his tongue thick. The corrugated dome of the Nissen hut +was wavering and swaying. + +At that moment the door burst open. "Sure, an' I told you the rat would +come back here!" That was O'Malley's bellow. "And there the spalpeen +is!" + +"I say, old man, are you hit bad?" Allison's voice came to Stan through +the dizzy haze closing in around him. + +"Just nicked," Stan muttered and grinned. By some twist Allison and +O'Malley had escaped. He felt much better, so much better that he +laughed, or thought he did. + + * * * * * + +Stan lay on his bunk with a medic giving him treatment before the +ambulance boys packed him off. He opened his eyes and found the haze had +gone. He could feel the morphine working and knew he would drift away +again in a few seconds. O'Malley was looking down at him, his homely +face twisted into a scowl. There were two suspicious-looking beads which +were not sweat on each side of his nose. When Stan looked up at him, +O'Malley grinned broadly. Beside him, Allison was smiling too. + +"We'll have him fixed up as good as ever in no time," the doctor said. + +"How did you keep from getting gassed?" Stan asked. + +"Aisy," O'Malley answered. "The rat was so scared we'd rush him that he +jest eased out through the door an' tossed a glass jug into the room. +It was fixed to break aisy if it hit anything hard. Allison caught it as +neat as iver he caught a Rugby football." O'Malley laughed. + +"But the blighter had locked us in and that slowed us down some. Then +two of his henchman came along to use the radio and when they unlocked +the doors to air the gas out of the hut, we grabbed them." Allison +looked at the doctor to see if it was all right to talk. The doctor +nodded. + +"Your phone call came in the nick o' time," O'Malley put in. "We located +Sim and trailed him from the mess to his hideout. It was one of our own +Nissen huts the boys had been using to store bedding in. The rats had +moved the piles of bedding away from the back end and made a place +there." + +"Why wasn't their radio located?" Stan asked. + +The doctor turned to Allison and Stan. "Better let the rest of the plot +wait," he said. + +Splinters and Bugs edged forward. "Be savin' a cot for you, Wilson," +they said. + +Stan grinned happily. The morphine had claimed him, and it brought a +pleasant dream. He was again with his pals and another German plot had +been upset. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A YANKEE FLIER OVER BERLIN*** + + +******* This file should be named 29774.txt or 29774.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/9/7/7/29774 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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