Dave Dawson at Dunkirk

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  _Orders From Headquarters_

  It was a kindly face, and the smile was warm and friendly, yet somehowDave Dawson couldn't keep it in focus. It would be close to him onemoment and seem very real. Then a cloud would pass across in front of itand the face would fade out completely. He felt as though he had beentrying to hold that face in his vision for years and years. He knew thatthe mouth was talking to him, too, but he couldn't hear a word.

  Everything was so still and quiet about him, and so white. Everythingthat his eyes could see was white ... except that kind looking face.He'd stare at it hard, trying to bold it in focus, and then his eyeswould become so heavy, and his brain would become so sleepy. He guessedthat was the trouble; why he couldn't keep seeing that face for verylong at a time. He'd fall off to sleep.

  Or was he actually asleep all the time and was this a dream? But why washe sleeping? He shouldn't be sleeping. He remembered, now! He andFreddy were following those two Belgian dispatch riders toward GeneralBoulard's headquarters. Something funny, though, had happened. Whatcould it have been? Surely he hadn't just fallen off to sleep whileFreddy stuck to the wheel. _No_, of course not! More of it was comingback! There had been a terrific explosion in the road ahead, and the twodispatch riders had disappeared right into it. Yes, he remembered nowwhat had happened. But, where was he? Why was everything white? Why wasthat kind looking, smiling face fading away from him so often? And whycouldn't he hear those words the moving lips were saying? Was he dead?Was this what it was like when you died? And Freddy! Where was his pal,Freddy Farmer? He tried to find suitable answers in his brain, but hishead ached so, and looking at that fading face made him so sleepy ... sosleepy....

  And then after a long time the face suddenly stopped fading away intothe depths of foggy mist. It stayed right where it was, and when thelips moved he actually heard what they said.

  "How do you feel, my lad?" they said. "Does your head hurt very much?"

  His head? Why should those lips ask if his head hurt? His head didn'thurt at all! As a matter, of fact, nothing about him hurt. He feltfine. He felt swell. What was going on, anyway? Holy smokes! He was in abed. Under sheets and blankets, and everything. He pushed himself up onhis elbow as easy as pie, and looked around. He saw that he was in ahospital. There was a long line of beds down each side of the huge roompainted so white it almost hurt your eyes. And there was a man, asoldier in every bed because he could see the uniforms hanging on thehooks on the wall. And that face! It belonged to a captain in theBritish Army. The medical corps! The insignia was on the lapels of histunic.

  "Steady, my lad!" the officer cautioned in a soothing voice. "Tell me,how's the head feel? The pain gone, sonny?"

  Dave blinked and was somehow a little startled to realize that he couldtalk. He vaguely remembered something about trying to talk a littlewhile ago but being unable to utter a word.

  "My head's okay, sir," he said. "I feel great. Where am I, anyway? Andwhat's it all about? This is a hospital, isn't it?"

  The medical officer let out a great sigh as though he had been holdinghis breath for a long time.

  "Good, splendid!" he finally said. "You're out of it at last. You'll beall right, now, my lad. But you jolly well had a close one, I can tellyou! Might have remained in a coma for weeks, and months. A ticklishthing, concussion shock. Want something to eat?"

  "Sure, sure," Dave replied absently. "But, hey, I remember, now. Where'smy pal? Where's Freddy Farmer? He was with me when that road exploded!"

  "Road exploded, eh?" the medical officer said and raised an eyebrow. "Aland mine, probably. So your friend's name is Freddy Farmer? An Englishlad, isn't he?"

  "And the very best!" Dave said with feeling. "But where is he? Gosh,sir, please tell me! I've got to know. He's ... he's all right?"

  The officer leaned down and patted his shoulder.

  "Your little friend's quite all right," he said and pointed to FreddyFarmer asleep in the next bed. "He came out of it for the last time afew hours ago, but he started raving about a lot of crazy things, so Igave him something to make him sleep some more. He'll be fit as a fiddlewhen he wakes up. Now, what about this land mine ... or the roadexploding, as you say?"

  "I don't know exactly," Dave said. "Freddy was driving the Belgianscouting car, and we were following a couple of dispatch riders toGeneral Boulard's headquarters. We had just turned off the Wavre-Namurroad, I guess it was, when _blamm_! Everything went dark. But how'd weget here? Somebody picked us up last night? Hey, what's so funny aboutthat?"

  The officer wiped a broad smile from his lips.

  "I wasn't laughing at you, my lad," he said. "It's amusing, though, towitness the final effects of concussion shock. My boy, you weren'tpicked up last night. You've been here in this British militaryhospital, at Lille, for eight days!"

  Dave was speechless. His eyes widened in blank amazement. He justcouldn't believe he had heard correctly. Surely his ears must be playinghim tricks. _Eight days?_

  "That's right, my lad," the medical officer said, reading Dave'sbewildered thoughts. "It's exactly eight days this morning, since theybrought you two in here."

  "But eight days?" Dave cried. "But ... but I'm not even hurt! There areno bandages on me, and I don't ache any place. How could I have beenhere for eight days?"

  "I'll not give you the medical explanation, because you wouldn'tunderstand, probably," the officer said with a smile. "But whathappened, was something like this. The concussion shock of thatexplosion, whatever it was, temporarily paralyzed certain nerve centersin your body and in your head. Why you didn't receive physical injuryis just one of those mysterious things that happen often in war. A shellcan blow every strip of clothing off a soldier's back, blow off hisshoes, and toss him fifty yards, but not mark him with a single scratch.That's what must have happened to you and your friend. Perhaps, too,being in the scouting car protected you from things flying around. But,certain nerve centers were paralyzed. There's little we can do for thatoutside of a few injections. It's up to the patient's make-up, hisconstitution, and such. You probably don't remember waking up severaltimes, do you?"

  Dave shook his head.

  "No sir," he said. "But I sort of half remember something about seeing aface that kept fading out, and seeing lips move, but I couldn't hear thewords."

  "Yes, that's the way it is usually," the medical officer said andnodded. "That was just parts of the nerve system returning to normal.You could see a little but you couldn't hear. Or you could feel butstill not have the power to speak. The medical term for that hasthirty-six letters, I believe. I don't even think I could pronounce itcorrectly now, anyway. But, you're fit now, my lad. I'll have the nursebring you in something to eat."

  "Gosh!" Dave gasped as a sudden thought struck him. "Have I gone eightdays without eating?"

  "Hardly," the other said with a laugh. "No, several times you both wokeup enough to take food, though of course you don't remember it. The restof the time we gave you injections. But, my word, the things you tworaved about! You insisted, rather your friend insisted on seeing GeneralCaldwell, Chief of Staff. You claimed you had been prisoners in Germany,and had seen a very important map. Your friend was very annoyed when werefused to summon the General at once, and gave him something to put himto sleep, instead. Really...!"

  "But that's true, that's true!" Dave burst out. "We were prisoners, andwe saw a map of the German plan of invasion. We escaped to the Belgianlines in a plane we stole. Then the sergeant driving us to Namur waskilled. We met some Belgian dispatch riders and they were showing us theway to General Boulard's headquarters when the whole road exploded. It'strue, sir!"

  The medical captain's eyes were now the size of saucers. He stoodstaring down at Dave in confounded amazement.

  "I say, my lad, go a bit easy," he began. "I guess you're not yet out ofthat coma. Now, just lie back, and...."

  "I'm fine, I'm okay!" Dave shouted excitedly. "Honest! It's all true,sir."

  The officer continued
to stare at him in puzzled bewilderment, and thenFreddy's voice from the next bed caused them both to look his way.

  "I say, hello, Dave!" the English youth cried. "They said you were allright, and then I guess I fell asleep again. Good grief, this is ahospital, isn't it? By George, it all comes back to me now! That roadblowing up. But how in the world did we get here?"

  The medical officer didn't bother to answer the question. He hurriedover to Freddy's bedside and took a good look at him. Freddy gave him apuzzled frown, then his face suddenly lighted up.

  "I say, I've seen you before, haven't I, sir?" he asked.

  "This morning," the medical man nodded. "Then you're all ship shape,too? But, listen, my lad, do you two still insist upon seeing GeneralCaldwell, Chief of British Staff?"

  Asking the question was like turning a magic key in Freddy. The Englishyouth became very excited at once, and breathlessly explained everythingin more detail than had Dave.

  "Yes sir," he finished up. "We have some valuable information, I'msure. If you could loan us a car, sir, and tell us where we can find theGeneral, we'll go at once."

  "You two will go nowhere just now!" the officer said sternly. "Bless mysoul, after what you've been through? Certainly not! However, there maybe something to all this. I'll get the General on the wire and tell himabout you two. His headquarters are not far away. He'll send one of hisStaff, or perhaps come himself. This whole thing is almost fantastic!You're sure you're not trying to pull my leg, fool me?"

  "Word of honor, sir," Freddy said solemnly.

  The medical officer scowled and hesitated a moment. Then he shrugged andhurried out of the ward.

  Dave looked at Freddy and grinned happily.

  "Boy, am I glad to see you!" he exclaimed. "According to the Doc weshould be dead, by rights, or something. Instead, we just got our nervecenters knocked haywire. Say, do you know how long we've been here? Didhe tell you when you woke up last time?"

  "I guess he didn't have the chance," the English youth said with a wrygrin. "I started yelling for them to take us to the General, and theythought I was completely off my topper. Stuck a needle in me and Ipopped off like a kitten. We've been here last night or since thismorning, haven't we? And where the dickens are we, anyway?"

  "Hold your hat, Freddy, here it comes," Dave said with a chuckle. "We'vebeen here eight days, he told me."

  Freddy's jaw dropped and his eyes bugged out so far you could haveknocked them off like marbles on sticks. Then he flushed and laughedscornfully.

  "Come off it, Dave!" he protested. "Don't give me any of that kind oftosh. My word! Eight days, my hat!"

  "No kidding, that's what he said," Dave insisted. And then he started togive Freddy the medical officer's description of what had happened tothem, and their unknown, to them, actions during the eight day period.

  He had almost finished when the medical captain came hurrying back intothe ward. At his heels were two male orderlies in hospital white. Davebroke off what he was saying and stared questioningly. The medicalofficer looked very much excited, and also very much impressed.

  "Take them to my receiving office," he said to the orderlies and steppedto the side.

  Neither Dave nor Freddy had the chance to ask the questions that hoveredon their lips. The orderlies took hold of their beds and startedwheeling them down the aisle to the double doors at the end. They passedthrough another ward and then were wheeled into a fair sized room thatwas fitted up more as an office than a hospital room.

  "That's fine," the captain said. "Return to your wards now."

  The orderlies retreated and the captain looked at Dave and Freddy insurprise and admiration.

  "Well, bless me!" he exclaimed. "I certainly didn't know I had two youngheroes under my charge. I had thought you were just two lads caught upin the rush of things. General Caldwell is rushing over here, now, bycar. He has heard about you two."

  "About us?" Dave gasped. "But, heck, how could he have heard about us?"

  "Yes!" Freddy exclaimed in a tone of awed wonder. "How could he haveheard of us?"

  "Through the Belgian High Command, I believe," the captain said. "Itseems that Belgian infantry lieutenant reported your little flyingincident to his commander. Also what you had told him. It was passed onup until it reached General Boulard. General Boulard, it seems,contacted General Caldwell to see if you lads had gotten through to him.The lieutenant, of course, did not know what had happened to you afteryou drove off in the scouting car with the Sergeant. But, I can tellyou, General Caldwell is most anxious to meet you. By jove, he almostbroke my ear drums with his shouting. Yes, I fancy that you two chapsare rather famous, now, you know?"

  "Rot, sir," Freddy said with true British modesty. "I fancy any onecould have done it. And a much better job of it, too. Is it true, sir,that we've been here eight days?"

  "And nights, as well," the medical officer nodded. "But don't lookalarmed, my lad. That sort of thing is not unusual. And you're bothsafely out of it, now. A day or two of rest, and all the food you caneat, and you'll be like new again."

  "I'm okay, right now," Dave said stoutly. "But there's something youdidn't explain, sir, How did we get here? Who found us, and what?"

  "It's a bit sketchy," the medical officer said with a frown. "As far asI could learn a Belgian ambulance driver came across you and saw thatyou both weren't dead, and put you in his bus. His own hospital wasbeing evacuated because of shell fire, and so he continued on westward.He reached a receiving station of ours and dumped his load there. Youtwo, and three Belgian gunners. Anyway, from that point you were broughthere to me. And here you are. It was something like that, anyway.Doubtless you'll never know the real facts. But, I certainly shouldn'tworry about that, if I were you. Simply bless your lucky stars, and letit go at that."

  "Jeepers!" Dave breathed softly. "Lucky stars? I must have a million ofthem, I guess. You, too, Freddy. Right?"

  "Quite!" The English youth nodded. "Dashed if it isn't like some fairytale one of those writer chaps would think up."

  "And how!" Dave grunted and shook his head. "My gosh! A Stuka bomb dropson me and I wake up hours later and miles away. Then a land mine, orsomething, blows up in my face, and I wake up _eight days_ later, andgosh knows _how_ far away. I sure do get around."

  "Well, better not make a habit of it, my lad," the medical officerchuckled. "The third time, you know?"

  "Hey, those eight days!" Dave suddenly exclaimed. "What's beenhappening? Who's winning? Are the Allies beating up the Germans? Gee, Isure hope so!"

  The smile fled from the medical officer's face and he became very grave.He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it abruptly. At that moment theoffice door swung open and a group of five tired eyed British officersentered the room. A big man, with coal black hair and steel grey eyes,led the party. Even without looking at his uniform with its rows ofdecoration ribbons, and high rank insignia, Dave knew at once that theman was General Caldwell, chief of British Staff. The captain swungaround and clicked his heels.

  "Ah, there you are, sir," he greeted the General. "And here, sir, areyour two young lads. This is the American chap, Dave Dawson. And this isone of our own lads. Freddy Farmer. Boys, General Caldwell, chief ofBritish Staff. You'd like me to retire, sir?"

  "No, no, of course not, Captain," General Caldwell said in a brisk tone.Then turning his steel grey eyes on the boys he smiled faintly. "So, youare the two, eh?" he said. "I've heard quite a bit about you. Now, whowants to talk first? I want to hear everything."

  "You tell him about it, Freddy," Dave said promptly. "You rememberedmore things on that map than I did, anyway."

  Freddy flushed and looked embarrassed. The General smiled and perchedhimself on a corner of the bed, while his officers gathered around.

  "All right, Freddy," he said. "Freddy Farmer, isn't it? Oh yes, ofcourse. All right, Freddy, let's have it, eh?"

  "Yes sir," the English youth said, and began talking in a low but clearvoice.