Dave Dawson with the Commandos

  CHAPTER SIX

  _Nazi Wrath_

  Like so many huge birds of prey coming home to roost, the twenty-oneferry bombers slid down to a landing on the R.A.F. field at Land's Endat the southwest tip of England, and went trundling over to the tarmacline and the waiting mechanics. When the last had touched earth, Daveand Freddy cut their throttles and slid down also. They landed togetherand taxied that way up to the line. When he reached it Dave cut hisignition, climbed out and hurried stiff-legged over to Freddy's plane.

  "What was the big idea of giving me such a case of heart failure?" hedemanded of his pal. "Holy smoke! That little business took fifteenyears off my life, if it took a day. In future, don't do that to me,see?"

  Freddy legged down and pulled off his helmet and goggles.

  "You think I was just having sport?" he snorted. "Far from it, my lad.I missed my man completely. A blasted good pilot he was, too. Next thingI knew two of them had me all wrapped up and were ready to send me someplace I had no fancy to go to. Much, much too close for comfort, so theonly thing I could do was fake being hit and spin the bus downward. Thatat least threw off their aim a bit. And when I pulled out and up in thelast second, they were--"

  Freddy paused and grinned broadly.

  "Well, the remaining blighter was too surprised to do anything aboutstopping me," he said. "But thanks for taking care of that other beggar.I might not have surprised both of them. Fact is, I fancy you saved mylife again, old thing. I'm grateful."

  "You should get tossed in the duck pond for giving me such a scare!"Dave growled, but softened it with a grin. "Well, here's England. Aren'tyou going to drop down and kiss the ground, or something? _This_ isEngland, Freddy!"

  The English youth smiled, and there were stars in his eyes.

  "Yes, England again," he whispered softly. "How wonderful to return toit from uncivilized lands where they eat raw things and call them hotdogs, and talk through their teeth, and drive ninety miles an hour evento funerals! Yes, blessed England! It's like being reborn. Like--like--"

  "Like waking up from a beautiful dream!" Dave snapped, and waved a handat the sky that was now overcast. "See? No sun over here! And justthirty minutes off shore we had plenty of it. What have the weather godsgot against you English guys, anyway?"

  Freddy didn't have time to think up a kidding come-back for that one.They both turned at the sound of footsteps behind them, and saw MajorBarber hurrying over toward them. The Commando Chief was grinning fromear to ear, and he looked as if he wanted to hug and kiss them both. Hedidn't, however. Instead, he grabbed each in turn by the hand and nearlyshook his arm off at the shoulder socket.

  "I hope some day it will be my chance to return that little favor oflife saving!" he cried. "And that goes for everybody aboard the ferrybombers. I had a front seat, and what you two did sure was something tosee. You seemed to have a little trouble, Farmer. Hey! You didn't getwounded, did you?"

  "Him?" Dave snorted before Freddy could even shake his head. "The Nazishaven't made that bullet yet. No, sir. He just wanted to show you howfancy he could get when there're Messerschmitts around. I've just beentelling him that if he pulls that on me again, I'll probably shoot himdown myself. But it was pretty cute, wasn't it, Major? He should begiven his wings any day now, I say. Practically a fighter pilot."

  "Don't mind Dawson, sir," Freddy spoke up. "He's always that way. Prettycool in a fight, but when it's all over he simply goes to pieces andsays the craziest things. No, I wasn't hit, fortunately. I had a closecall, though, and had to do a little something extra to get out of it.We're all here, though. And that's that!"

  "And it's plenty!" Major Barber said with a grim nod. "It proves thissort of thing can be done on a large scale. That is--"

  The Major paused and grinned.

  "That is, if we have fellows like you two along," he added. "Well, stickaround for a bit, will you? I've got things to do, but I want to talk toyou again. There's the mess shack over there. I guess it won't makeeither of you mad to take aboard some breakfast, huh?"

  "Oh, quite, quite!" Dave mimicked at Freddy. "And, of course, a pot oftea, what, old tin of fruit?"

  Freddy Farmer groaned and shook his head, and looked helplessly at MajorBarber.

  "It's so utterly useless and futile, sir!" he sighed. "I mean the wayDawson murders the King's English. Something really should be done aboutit. Would you suggest gagging him, sir?"

  If the Major replied, nobody heard it. At that moment the air raid sirenmounted atop the Operations Office let forth with its blood-curdlingwail. Without thinking, both Dave and Freddy spun around and dived fortheir planes. In nothing flat they were in the pits and rocketing theirships across the field. As Dave pulled his clear and went twistingaround and upward, he snapped out of his action trance long enough tolook at the fuel gauge. A sigh of relief spilled from his lips when hesaw that he still had enough high octane for thirty-five minutes offlying.

  "And lots of things can happen in thirty-five minutes!" he shoutedaloud.

  "Quite!" came the sudden and startling voice of Freddy Farmer over theradio. "And there are the blighters! Off there to the southeast. Fancythey got annoyed when they learned the bombers got through, and decidedto have a go at a ground strafe. Tally-ho, Dave! And there's the R.A.F.chaps coming up to join in the fun. But we'll get first cracks at thebeggars."

  "Sure, but remember about last time!" Dave shouted back at him. "Nofunny business. Get your man this time, and no fooling around. Okay,kid! Up and at 'em!"

  As Dave snouted the last he lifted the nose to a steeper angle, and wentwing-screaming up toward a group of ten Nazi long range fighters thatwere bearing down on the Land's End field. Twisting in the seat, heglanced down back at the swarm of R.A.F. Spitfires and Hurricanes thatwere racing up off the field. A pleasant warmth surged through his body,and there was a glad song in his heart.

  "Just like the old days!" he cried happily. "Flying with the dear oldR.A.F. again. Yeah, good! Plenty good!"

  As though to echo his words, he heard Freddy Farmer's guns blast away.The leading Nazi plane swerved, then dropped by the nose and starteddown with one engine smoking badly. Dave grunted and ruddered hisP-Thirty-Eight a little to bring his sights to bear on another Naziplane.

  "Okay, first blood for you, Freddy!" he sang out. "But it's my turn,now, and how!"

  His words were no crazy boast. They were simply a statement of coldfact. And as his guns started hammering out made-in-America doom, hisstatement was proved. A second Nazi would-be ground strafer seemed tojump straight up in the air. That is, the fuselage went upward. Thewings remained at the lower level for a moment, then went slip-slidingaway. The fuselage fell over by the nose and went down like a bomb astwo objects popped out of it and soon became a pair of Germans goingdown by parachute.

  The swift double kill obviously took some of the lust for battle awayfrom the other Nazi pilots. The formation swerved this way and that, andthen broke up into pairs that made half-hearted passes at the ferrybomber-covered field below. But they all should have stayed home. Bythen the pilots of the locally based R.A.F. squadrons were in the scrap,and their arrival just about settled things for the Germans. A couple ofthem did linger around a little longer, but that was very stupid ofthem. They went down like nailed clay pigeons, while their pals wentstreaking back across the Channel to their temporary homes in OccupiedFrance.

  When Dave and Freddy came down out of the air and landed, an orderly waswaiting for them.

  "Group Captain Farnsworth wishes to see you two officers at once," hetold them.

  "Guess breakfast waits, pal." Dave grinned at Freddy. "Let's go. I guessMajor Barber is with the Group Captain. I don't see him around anyplace. So maybe this is it."

  "Maybe, but I wouldn't be too sure," Freddy murmured.

  Dave looked at him sharply.

  "What do you mean by that?" he demanded.

  "Nothing, I hope," the English youth grunted. "But I believe I've heardof Group Captain Farnsworth. Very much of a stick
ler for rules andregulations. And--well, after all, this is an R.A.F. field, you know."

  "So what?" Dave demanded as he stared, puzzle-eyed. "What's that got todo with it? Hey! What's eating you, anyway?"

  Freddy shrugged and started walking toward the Field Commandant'soffice.

  "Let's go and find out," he said. "I could be wrong, of course."

  "You could be nuts!" Dave growled, still mystified. "And I think youare!"

  The English youth let that one slide. He simply hunched his shouldersonce and walked with Dave over toward the office. They reached it intime, knocked, and went inside when a rasping voice told them to do so.Seated at the desk inside was a heavy-browed, red-headed man in anR.A.F. Group Captain's uniform. The decoration ribbons under his R.A.F.wings showed that this was not the first war he had fought in. And theyalso showed that he had not exactly kept his feet on solid earth all thetime in either war. But his eyes were his outstanding feature. They werelike frosted cubes of ice that seemed to melt everything that came intotheir range of vision. Dave looked into those eyes and gulped a little.

  "Captains Dawson and Farmer reporting, sir," he heard his own voice say."You wished to see us, sir?"

  "Blasted right I do!" the words came smashing at him. "Just who theruddy blue blazes do you think you two are? A little special air forceall your own?"