CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
_The Dead Return_
A nice warm comfy bed. And a soothing silence all about. Rest, beautifulrest in a world of fluffy white silence. It ...
Like a half drowned man groping his way up through fathoms of silentwaters to the surface, Dave Dawson rose up from the depths ofunconsciousness. And as a man saved from drowning remembers things thatpassed through his mind while down in the depths, so were Dawson's firstconscious thoughts a continuance of what he had been thinking in anotherworld. A nice, warm comfy bed, and ...
And though it was still dark all about, the sense of touch returned tohim, and his finger tips telegraphed to his brain the fact that he wasactually in a warm, comfy bed. He could feel smooth sheets, and a softmattress underneath him. And then little by little he became consciousof sound. Not individual sounds, but a merging of all different kindsof sound into a sort of faintly pulsating murmur. And with that faintlypulsating murmur there came to him a sense of motion, too. A gentlevibration that traveled throughout his entire body.
It had all the effect of lulling him into deep and untroubled slumber.But in that it did not quite succeed. It didn't because at that momenthis eyes opened slowly and there was the image of Freddy Farmer's facecentered in a vast expanse of white. But it was more than an image ofFreddy, for the lips moved back in a smile, the eyes glistened with joy,and then came the spoken words.
"That's better, my lad. How do you feel, Dave?"
Dawson stared for a moment, and then closed his eyes tight, but when heopened them again Freddy Farmer's smiling face was still there.
"You dead, too, Freddy?" he heard his own voice speak. "How did ithappen, fellow?"
The smiling lips broke into a chuckle, and Freddy Farmer shook his headin positive negation.
"Not a bit of it, old thing," he said. "I'm not dead, and neither areyou. Though by rights you should be. How do the arm and leg feel?"
"Not dead?" Dawson mumbled, as he strived to get his brain functioningfaster. "And what arm, and what leg?"
"Yours," Freddy Farmer said. "The left one. Your arm you broke, and yourleg you wrenched pretty badly. And you smashed up your face a bit. But,as usual, you'll pull through. You must have protected the rest of yourbody with your head when you crashed into that blighter. If you'd onlywaited, though. I wouldn't have let the beggar get away. Your guns wentout, eh?"
Dawson didn't say anything for a moment. Instead he used that moment totake stock of himself as best he could. It was rather difficult, becausethe lower half of his face was bandaged, and the bandages prevented himfrom looking down his body. It was easy enough to tell, though, thatsomething was wrong with his left leg and left arm. He couldn't moveeither of them, and to attempt it started little pains shooting around.
"Yeah, my guns went haywire for some unknown reason," he saideventually. "So I had to down the rat the only way I could. But what doyou mean _you_ wouldn't have let him get away?"
"Well, I don't think so," Freddy Farmer said. "True, I was still quite abit away when you barged into him, but I think I would have caught upwith him. I screamed blue murder at you over the radio, but I guess yourset was balmy, too."
"Didn't hook it up," Dave said. "At the start, I mean. Decided to keepradio silence. I ... Hey! Then you got the same idea as me, huh? Youlost him in that fog, and then decided to light out for the Truk area?"
"Quite," young Farmer said. "I lost you both. My radio was on and Iheard all our planes recalled. I ignored the order, knowing blasted wellthat that Nazi beggar wouldn't go back. I didn't think you would,either. I fancied it would be a three-plane race to the Truk area. Andthat's the way it turned out. Not bad flying for any of us, what, to getthere almost at the same time. But, do you know something, Dave? Knowwhy we didn't spot that blighter sooner?"
"Because we were blind, I guess," Dawson grunted. "Or maybe he spottedus and hid behind something every time we came along."
"No, it wasn't that at all," Freddy said. "It was because he wasn'taboard any of the carriers until the middle of the afternoon of the daywe spotted him."
"He what?" Dawson gasped. "But how come...?"
"One of those crazy bits of luck that people have without asking," youngFarmer said. "Or perhaps the beggar did have some kind of a premonitionthat we were coming after him. Anyway, when the force was one day outfrom Pearl Harbor one of the scouting pilots aboard one of the cruiserscame down sick. Word was sent to the Trenton for a replacement pilot tobe sent over. And our friend was the one sent. The flight officer on theTrenton handled the business, and Vice-Admiral Macon didn't know a thingabout it. That was natural, because he had bigger things to worry about.The officers under him took charge of minor details. Anyway, the sickpilot got fit for duty again, and our friend came back aboard theTrenton. In the cruiser's motor launch, of course. I sort of halfremember seeing a motor launch pull alongside us that day. But maybeit's simply my imagination, now that I know there was one. Anyway, hisname on the Trenton was Brown. Yes, Brown. A nice old American name,with never a Nazi hint about it, the blighter!"
"Well, for cat's sake!" Dawson exploded. "Why didn't somebody tell usthat one fighter pilot had been sent to a cruiser to double for a sickguy? What were we supposed to be, mind readers, or crystal ball gazers,or something? If...!"
"Easy, old thing!" Freddy Farmer said in alarm. "You're in bad enoughshape as you are without blowing your top. It was just one of thosethings. The press of shipboard duties made them forget about Brown'stransference, and the vice-admiral didn't know. Perhaps the ones whocould have told us didn't take the spy scare very seriously. I'mthankful enough that he was from the Trenton and not from one of theother carriers. Otherwise he would have returned to it that day and we'dnever have spotted him. But if I'm getting you all riled up, Dave, I'dbetter get out of here and have the surgeon pop in and give yousomething to put you back to sleep."
"No, don't go, Freddy, I ..." Dave stopped short, gasped, and stared athis pal wide-eyed. "Hey! Wait a minute!" he cried. "Where am I, and howthe heck did I get here?"
"You're in the Trenton's sick bay," Freddy Farmer said. "And a cruiserseaplane brought you back the day before yesterday. Brought us bothback, as a matter of fact."
"_Both?_" Dawson echoed in amazement. "You, too? But ... Oh! You ran outof gas and dropped into the drink, huh? And a scouting sea plane foundus both? Practically within spitting distance of Truk?"
"Well, it wasn't exactly like that, Dave," Freddy Farmer said, and afaint flush seeped into his cheeks. "The truth of the matter is thatwhen I saw you parachute down to the water and float around in your MaeWest ... and you can thank it for keeping your face out of water ... Idecided that it was only fair for me to share what I had with you. So Ilanded as close to you as I dared, got out my rubber life raft andpaddled over and pulled you aboard. The next morning the carrier forceplanes all came over, and a cruiser seaplane was good enough to land andcarry us both back here. Sturdy planes those seaplanes to carry twoextra passengers. The observer and I had quite a job holding onto you,but we made it, as you can see."
"Old Freddy, the Dawson lifesaver!" Dave breathed as a warm glow stolethrough him. "How many times has it been, Freddy? Twenty-nine orsixty-nine times that you've cheated death for me?"
"Rot!" young Farmer snorted. "After all, I didn't have the gas to getback. I had to sit down. I'd have shared my life raft with any poordevil the same as I did with you. I ... Oh, blast it! I'd feelfrightfully lost without you around, old thing, you know."
"Yeah, I can guess," Dawson grinned. Then the grin faded as he saidsoberly, "I wonder if that Nazi rat went down with his plane, or if hebailed out, too, and maybe got picked up by some Japs."
"No, the Japs didn't pick him up," Freddy Farmer said evenly. "I wasclose enough to see that you were the only one who fell clear of thatwreckage, and opened your parachute. And even if he had got clear andgone down by 'chute, the Japs at Truk were too busy the next day tobother picking him up."
"So I did pull my rip co
rd ring," Dawson breathed, as memory of thoseweird crazy moments between life and death came back to him. "Yanked thering, and didn't even realize I was doing it. It sure is funny how ...Hey! What did you say, Freddy? The Japs at Truk were too busy next day?"
"Certainly," Freddy Farmer said. "This carrier force. Remember? They hitagainst Truk that next day, and the next. That's how a scouting seaplanehappened to spot us and take us aboard. Why, I understand that one pilotwas shot down right inside the Truk coral reef and picked up by acruiser seaplane. Stout fellows, those cruiser seaplane pilots andobservers. A lot of the dirty work, and no credit to speak of. But theTruk show was wonderful, Dave. I got in one flight there, myself, as agunner on a torpedo plane. Think I even got me a Jap plane, but I'm notsure. But it was a marvelous victory. We sank nineteen of their ships,is the report. And the number of Jap planes shot down has been placed,at two hundred and one for the two-day show. Imagine! And all the raidcost us was seventeen planes. Not one of our ships was damaged. The Navychaps certainly gave Hirohito and Tojo a lot to cry about this time!"
"And while all that was going on I've been here out cold and trussed uplike a roasted pig!" Dawson groaned. "Now, I ask you! Is that crummyluck, or is that crummy luck?"
Freddy Farmer stared at him and shook his head in mock sadness.
"Yes, yes, quite true," he said with a sigh. "A beastly shame. A blasteddirty trick played on you. As I said to Vice-Admiral Macon, I said, 'Seehere, Vice-Admiral! My friend Dawson is slightly under the weather, andyou have no business sending all these ships and planes and men againstthe Japs at Truk until Dawson is better. After all, you know,Vice-Admiral, Dawson is the ...'"
"Okay, okay, don't say it!" Dawson laughed. "I'm a selfish guy. I admitit. Just the same, I sure hate to miss things."
"No doubt," Freddy Farmer said with a grin. "But don't forget, in thefuture, also to concentrate on things missing _you_! And you know whatthings I mean!"
"So help me, Daddy, I'll never fly into another plane," Dawson said witha faint yawn. "But thank you for everything, kind sir, and now go awayand let me sleep."
"Consider me gone, old thing," Freddy Farmer said softly, and smileddown at his pal's closed eyes.
THE END
* * * * *
_A Page from_
DAVE DAWSON OVER BERLIN
The last came out of his throat in a strangled cry of grief as a pointin the sky ahead suddenly was splashed with flame and white light.German flak gunners had scored a direct hit on one of the R.A.F.raiders. Right smack in the bomb compartment from the looks of theexplosion.
"Happy landings, fellows," Dawson said softly with a catch in his voice."You went clean, and quick, anyway. The way I hope I go, when it comesmy turn."
"Amen, chaps!" Freddy Farmer whispered, and then fell silent.
The flashes from the exploding bombers seemed to reach out to the fourhorizons. Then they diminished into a ball that traced a fiery pathstraight down to the earth. Although they had seen death strikecountless times, neither Dawson nor Farmer had ever gotten used to it.They always experienced the same feeling of horror, the same helplessrage, and the same emptiness in the stomach that they were experiencingnow. Seven men had just died before their eyes. Seven brave men who buta short hour ago had lived, and laughed, and felt sure, as all airmenfeel sure, that the Grim Reaper would pass them by this time, too. Butthe Grim Reaper had not passed them by. He had snatched up their livesin one blinding flash of thundering flame. They probably didn't evenknow what hit them. They just died, and now their comrades were carryingon without them. Carrying on because there was a job to be done; a jobthat couldn't wait. A job that had to be done tonight, and tomorrownight, and the next, and the next, and on and on until all Nazis hadbeen smashed into the dust, and there was peace again. But seven morewould not see that peace, save from their seats of honor in the airmen'sValhalla.
* * * * *
_Books by R. SIDNEY BOWEN_
DAVE DAWSON AT DUNKIRK
DAVE DAWSON WITH THE R. A. F.
DAVE DAWSON IN LIBYA
DAVE DAWSON ON CONVOY PATROL
DAVE DAWSON FLIGHT LIEUTENANT
DAVE DAWSON AT SINGAPORE
DAVE DAWSON WITH THE PACIFIC FLEET
DAVE DAWSON WITH THE AIR CORPS
DAVE DAWSON WITH THE COMMANDOS
DAVE DAWSON AT THE RUSSIAN FRONT
DAVE DAWSON WITH THE FLYING TIGERS
DAVE DAWSON ON GUADALCANAL
DAVE DAWSON AT CASABLANCA
DAVE DAWSON WITH THE EIGHTH AIR FORCE
DAVE DAWSON AT TRUK
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