CHAPTER VIII
DESERT BATTLES
Oddly enough, as Mary set the big plane climbing she recalled Sparky’swords, “You are with me to the journey’s end.” Was this to be thejourney’s end? One thing was sure. During their moments of excitementover the captured spy, they had allowed the enemy to come dangerouslyclose. Six fighting planes were coming roaring toward them at top speed.
Breathless with suspense, Mary watched their altitude increase. Tenthousand feet, eleven, twelve, fifteen thousand. It was not as fast asthis; instead, to her excited mind the figures appeared to creep upwardlike a man with a crutch going upstairs.
One plane was ahead of the others. “He’ll get us! I am sure of that!”she groaned. “Oh! If Sparky were only here!”
Then the on-rushing enemy did a strange thing. Instead of coming righton, like a catbird after a hawk, he circled wide, going completelyaround the big plane.
“Afraid.” There was contempt in her voice.
“He’d better be!” It was Sparky who spoke. He was standing in thecenter of the cabin. In his hands he gripped a heavy machine gun.
As the enemy circled closer, he opened a window a crack to send forth aburst of fire.
The plane veered off, swinging around before them, then coming up onthe other side.
Sparky had donned his mask. So, too, had Mary. They were getting intothin air. “If only we can hold them off,” Mary thought.
Once again Sparky’s gun spoke, then again and yet again. Like acowardly wolf-pack the fighters were closing in slowly. There werethree of them now.
There came the rat-tat-tat of machine gun fire from the distance. Nobullets found their mark.
In desperation Mary set her motors going at a dangerous rate.
“If that burned motor fails me now—” Her heart paused, then raced on.
“Good girl!” Sparky encouraged her. “We’re leaving them behind. Theycan’t go much farther, not at this altitude. You, you’re looking whitearound the lips. Here! I’ll take the controls.”
She staggered from her place, leaned for a space of seconds then,looking down, watched the fighter planes still battling their wayupward. With shaking hands she reached for the machine gun. “This can’tbe the journey’s end,” she murmured.
And then something strange happened. The foremost plane that had beenstraining to reach them, faltered in midair, seemed to hang there for amoment, then, dropping one wing, went into a spiral dive that increasedin speed until it seemed a boy’s top, spinning in the sky.
Dragging her eyes from this fascinating and terrible sight, she lookedfor the other planes. They, too, were going down, but under control.They had given up the task assigned to them.
“It—it’s all over! Finished!” She sank down in her place besideSparky. “That first plane,” she said after a time, “it went down in aspin. The pilot didn’t bale out. It just went down, down.”
“I’ve done a lot of duck hunting in my day,” Sparky replied quietly.“Sometimes I’d shoot at a flock of ducks in midair. They’d sail righton, but a mile away, one of them would drop behind, go into a spin andcome plunging down.”
“You mean your bullets reached that plane?” Mary asked.
“They might have. Then again the fellow may have climbed too high.”
“Something on his plane froze up?”
“Yes, or he did. Whichever way it was, there’s one less of them for ourboys over here to take care of. We won a bloodless battle.”
After that, maintaining their altitude, they flew on for a hundredmiles in silence.
Then, after a good look at the empty sky, Sparky tilted the plane’snose downward. Soon they were dragging off their masks and drinking inthe crisp desert air of the upper reaches.
“Have to get back and see how my prisoner is getting on.”
“You—your—oh, yes, that Jap spy.” She took the controls.
There was a strange look on his face when he returned.
“Well?” she asked.
“I didn’t mean to tell you,” he replied, soberly. “You asked for it, sohere it is. He’s gone to join his ancestors.”
“You mean—”
“Seems his mask didn’t suit him, so he knocked it off.”
“Oh! I see.”
“In other words he committed hari-kari in a rather strange way.
“I gave him a desert burial,” he explained after a while. “Just openedthe trap door to the wing, and let him down.”
She nodded. It had been a long, hard journey that day. She hoped therewould be sunshine, laughter and song at that day’s journey’s end. And,for once, she was not to be disappointed.
A short time later something big loomed up before them on the horizon.“Is it a mountain?” Mary asked herself. It seemed a little strange thatit should be there. Then, too, it was so perfect in form, no bumps onthis side or that.
“Recognize it?” Sparky asked.
“No, could it be—”
“Yes. That’s exactly what it is,” he laughed. “A pyramid. And this isEgypt.”
“Egypt!” She was impressed.
“Yup! Better get out your lipstick. We’ll be landing in about fifteenminutes. I’ve never been here but the other boys say it’s quite a spot,not so far from Cairo.”
“You need scrubbing up more than I do, and a bit of first aid.”
“Don’t bother about me.”
She did, for all that. With a damp cloth she washed the blood andengine grease from his face, then applied antiseptic.
After that she gave herself a hurried make-up. And then there theywere, circling for one more landing among the date palms.
She found herself a trifle shaky about the knees when, at last, shestepped down to the good earth.
A few steps away a strongly built man was standing talking to another.
“He looks familiar,” she told herself.
Just then the man turned. “Dad!” she cried. After three long strides,she was in his arms.
“Mary! It’s good to see you!” he boomed. “I knew you were coming, but Icouldn’t let you know where I was. Why did you volunteer for sodangerous an assignment?”
“Because I am your daughter,” she replied proudly. “You wouldn’t wantme to stand back, now, would you?”
“No, Mary, I wouldn’t. You’ve made it safely this far. Here’s wishingyou luck and safety to the journey’s end.”
“The journey’s end,” she thought. “If he but knew how close we came tothat end this very day.”
“Mary,” her father was saying, “I want you to meet the finest Americanflier in Egypt, Captain Burt Ramsey. Captain Ramsey, this is mydaughter.”
“Charmed to meet her, sir,” was the quick response.
“I am pleased to meet you.” She gave the young man her best smile. Andwhy not? He stood six-feet-three and looked every inch thesoldier—dark hair, brown eyes, and that far-away look that fliers,especially over the desert, acquire.
“I am surprised at that introduction, Colonel Mason.” The Captaingrinned broadly. “From all you’ve been telling me, this young lady mustbe the best flier in Egypt.”
“Oh, that’s purely a family matter, paternal pride,” said the Colonel.
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_“Captain Ramsey, This Is My Daughter, Mary.”_]
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“Mary,” he said, “you must be starved, dead for sleep, and—”
“And visibly shaken,” she added. “Yes, all of that and more. You’dnever believe it, but we did away with two desert rats on this trip.”
“That’s right,” Sparky, who had just come up, agreed. “One yellow ratand one that was a doubtful white.”
“Tell us,” Ramsey demanded.
“Not now,” Mary pleaded. “Perhaps not ever.”
“I just wanted to say,” Spark
y broke in, “that we’ll be here untilthree tomorrow morning. Our next hop is a long one and that burnedengine needs a going over.”
“Oh! Hours of rest!” Mary nearly collapsed in her father’s arms.“You’ll never know what that means.”
“I’ll leave you now,” Burt Ramsey saluted. “Shall I see you at WaltzTime tonight?”
“Waltz Time on the radio?” Mary stared.
“No, indeed. Waltz Time on a very good floor and with an orchestra thatlifts its hat to none.”
“Oh!” she breathed, “That will be too much.”
“Just the change you need,” her father encouraged. “You can do a man’swork, but no woman can be a man all the time.”
“All right, then, it’s a date.” She put out a hand. “Father and I willbe there.”
Once again the Captain saluted, then, turning about, he marched away.
After taking her overnight bag from the plane, Mary climbed into a bigcar beside her father and went rolling away.
“This is like old times,” she sighed.
“I wish you were staying a week.” He drew a long breath. “That, ofcourse, is out. That big flight of four-motored bombers went throughhere yesterday.”
“Our flight.”
“Yes, I suppose so. Thirty-eight planes. And they were burning up theair. Looks as if something big were in the making over the air ofChina.”
“Or Tokio.”
“That’s what everyone is hoping, but no one really knows.”
“Did you see our flight leader?” she asked.
“Yes, indeed. They took on gas here. He was very much concerned aboutyour plane, and—” his voice dropped, “about your cargo. Made mepromise you fighter protection across the Arabian Desert.”
“Fighter protection. Hmm—we could have used some today.”
“You’ll have the very best tomorrow. Captain Ramsey is going as fighterflight commander. He’ll have three men with him.”
“Oh! That will be wonderful,” she enthused. “Even if we don’t run intotrouble.”
“Well, here we are. This is where I live.” He brought the car to a stopbefore a beautiful little chateau.
“Some class!” she exclaimed. “How about my staying on as your cook?”
“The cooking is taken care of. I’ll give you a job as hostess afteryour journey’s end.”
“Nope. Not interested. I’m in for the duration.”
“Good girl.” He took her bag. “We’ll find you a cool, dark room tosleep in and call you in time for dinner. How’s that?”
“Nothing could be sweeter.”
* * * * *
She was awake and dressed for dinner before he called her and, in spiteof the ordeals of the day, felt quite refreshed and ready for anything.
“Here’s a party dress I managed to pick up for you,” her father said,holding out a creation of thin, dark blue trimmed with some strangeSyrian lace. “Bought it from a Syrian peddler. It’s the real McCoy.”
“Oh! Dad! It’s lovely! But for just one night! It must have cost afortune!”
“Not so great a fortune,” was his smiling reply. “Besides, in timeslike these, when we live so fast, one night of perfect happiness can betreasured for days on end.”
“One night of happiness,” she repeated softly. “That sounds wonderful!”
“I’m hoping it may be wonderful. The dance is to be held at theOfficers’ Club, quite a splendid place. It’s really a British affair,but we’re all in on it, just as we are in the big fight. Once a weekofficers motor from long distances and bring the ladies. The Colonel’slady,” he laughed. “I tried to get your partner Sparky in on thedance,” he added. “He turned me down, said he needed the time forgetting the plane in shape, but he did promise to have dinner with us.”
“Dad, he’s wonderful, Sparky is,” Mary enthused. “The only trouble withhim is,” a wistful note stole into her voice, “he’s just a machine,like those engines he watches so carefully.”
“You’re lucky to have a partner like that. There’s only one in ahundred like him. You could fly all the way around the world with him.”
“Looks as if we might do just that.”
“Your destination is China?”
“Yes.”
“What route do you take on your return to America?”
“I—I’m afraid we never gave it a thought. Our journey’s end comesfirst.”
“Yes, of course. You’ll return by way of Australia or Alaska perhaps.”
“Either will be thrilling.”
“And dangerous. Well, now,” his voice changed, “get on your party dressand we’ll be on our way.”
A maid appeared from nowhere. She had, in truth, been borrowed from abeauty parlor. When she looked at herself in the glass after the maidhad done her work, Mary gasped, then experienced a sinking feelingabout her knees.
“Sparky,” she thought. “He’ll put on his everyday coat and comestrolling over to the club for dinner. It’s a shame. I wish I couldwear my uniform with a few spots on it!”
But then, perhaps she did not know Sparky. Or was it young CaptainRamsey who had engineered the transformation? Be that as it may, as sheentered the club, she looked Sparky up and down for a full ten secondsbefore she knew him.
“Sparky! You old rogue!” she exclaimed. “Why! You’re actually handsome!I’d like to—” She advanced toward him with shining eyes.
Blushing, Sparky backed away. “It says in the Bible,” he drawled, “thatyou should let your moderation appear before all men. You’re notlooking so bad yourself,” he added in a low tone, “but, pardner, thisis no sort of armor for a fightin’ fool. When do we eat?”
Colonel Mason led them to a table in the corner where the lights weresubdued, and there they took their places, Mary, Sparky, Ramsey, andthe Colonel.
The food, Mary discovered, was wonderful. “Lend-Lease?” she whisperedto her father.
“Something like that,” he smiled. “However it gets here, it’s deserved.All the men you see here, British, French, or American, are on activeduty. Most of them are fliers. Some have just returned from Tunisiawhere they have been on duty for long weeks. Half their squadron wasshot down. Some are guarding the airways, as Captain Ramsey will bedoing tomorrow. Almost every day some fine fellow fails to return—”
“But they seem so happy and cheerful.” Her eyes swept the large roomfilled with laughing, chattering men and their ladies.
“Certainly. What do you ask?” was the quick reply. “You just mustbelieve in your luck and keep your sense of humor. You, who have come along way, should know that.”
“Yes—” she agreed. “Yes, of course, I know it.”
Just then young Captain Ramsey claimed her attention. For the next halfhour he held it. While the Colonel and Sparky were busy comparing noteson the performance of various types of airplanes, she and Ramsey talkedand laughed as they compared notes on the lives they had lived beforethe war descended upon them.
“It will never be the same,” she sighed at last.
“Of course it won’t,” he agreed. “But do you really wish it?”
“I—I don’t know,” she hesitated.
“Of course you don’t. None of us does. We’ve been whirled completelyout of that world. When we get back, if we do—” his voice fell,“then’s the only time we’ll really know what we want. That’s why I say,‘forget the post-war problems. Let’s get on with the war.’ We—”
“Look!” She gripped his arm. “There’s an Arab. The head-waiter isbringing him this way. Oh, I’m scared.”
“Arabs are harmless enough.” He gave her a questioning look.
“Not all who pass as Arabs are harmless,” she insisted. There was notime for explaining. The Arab, with the head-waiter at his elbow, hadarrived at their table.
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