diff options
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 4 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/50309-h.zip | bin | 224159 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/50309-h/50309-h.htm | 6209 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/50309-h/images/cover.jpg | bin | 81999 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/50309-h/images/map.jpg | bin | 28561 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/50309.txt | 6085 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/50309.zip | bin | 112786 -> 0 bytes |
9 files changed, 17 insertions, 12294 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6e75ba5 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #50309 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/50309) diff --git a/old/50309-h.zip b/old/50309-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 4facb37..0000000 --- a/old/50309-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/50309-h/50309-h.htm b/old/50309-h/50309-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 3a12aa7..0000000 --- a/old/50309-h/50309-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,6209 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> - <head> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=us-ascii" /> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> - <title> - The Project Gutenberg eBook of Dave Dawson In Libya, by R. Sidney Bowen. - </title> - - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> - - <style type="text/css"> - -body { - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - - h1,h2 { - text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ - clear: both; -} - -p { - margin-top: .51em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: .49em; -} - -hr { - width: 33%; - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; - margin-left: 33.5%; - margin-right: 33.5%; - clear: both; -} - -hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} -hr.tb {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;} - -table { - margin-left: auto; - margin-right: auto; -} - -.blockquot { - margin-left: 5%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - -.center {text-align: center;} - -.right {text-align: right;} - -.caption {font-weight: bold;} - -/* Images */ -.figcenter { - margin: auto; - text-align: center; -} - -/* Footnotes */ -.footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} - -.footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} - -.footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} - -.fnanchor { - vertical-align: super; - font-size: .8em; - text-decoration: - none; -} - -div.titlepage { - text-align: center; - page-break-before: always; - page-break-after: always; -} - -div.titlepage p { - text-align: center; - text-indent: 0em; - font-weight: bold; - line-height: 1.5; - margin-top: 3em; -} - -.ph1, .ph2, .ph3, .ph4 { text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; font-weight: bold; } -.ph1 { font-size: xx-large; margin: .67em auto; } -.ph2 { font-size: x-large; margin: .75em auto; } -.ph3 { font-size: large; margin: .83em auto; } -.ph4 { font-size: medium; margin: 1.12em auto; } - - - </style> - </head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Dave Dawson in Libya, by Robert Sydney Bowen - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Dave Dawson in Libya - -Author: Robert Sydney Bowen - -Release Date: October 25, 2015 [EBook #50309] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DAVE DAWSON IN LIBYA *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/cover.jpg" width="340" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="titlepage"> - - -<h1>DAVE DAWSON<br /> -IN<br /> -LIBYA</h1> - -<p><i>by</i> -R. SIDNEY BOWEN</p> - -<p><i>Author of</i><br /> -"DAVE DAWSON AT DUNKIRK"<br /> -"DAVE DAWSON WITH THE R.A.F."</p> - -<p>THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING COMPANY</p> - -<p>AKRON, OHIO -<br />NEW YORK</p> - -<p>COPYRIGHT, 1941, BY CROWN PUBLISHERS<br /> -PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA</p> - -<p>[Transcriber's Note: Extensive research did not uncover any<br /> -evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p> - -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2>CONTENTS</h2> - -<div class="center"> -<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents"> -<tr><td align="right">CHAPTER</td><td></td><td align="right">PAGE</td></tr> -<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_ONE">I</a></td><td align="left"> MEDITERRANEAN PATROL</td><td align="right">11</td></tr> -<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_TWO">II</a></td><td align="left"> ORDERS FROM G. H. Q.</td><td align="right">23</td></tr> -<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_THREE">III</a></td><td align="left"> ACTION ALOFT!</td><td align="right">38</td></tr> -<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_FOUR">IV</a></td><td align="left"> PILOT'S LUCK</td><td align="right">56</td></tr> -<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_FIVE">V</a></td><td align="left"> ENEMY MANEUVERS</td><td align="right">67</td></tr> -<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_SIX">VI</a></td><td align="left"> DESERT MYSTERY</td><td align="right">80</td></tr> -<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_SEVEN">VII</a></td><td align="left"> FATE LAUGHS LAST</td><td align="right">96</td></tr> -<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_EIGHT">VIII</a></td><td align="left"> BLAZING SANDS</td><td align="right">111</td></tr> -<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_NINE">IX</a></td><td align="left"> WINGS FROM TRIPOLI</td><td align="right">126</td></tr> -<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_TEN">X</a></td><td align="left"> COURAGE AGAINST FATE</td><td align="right">143</td></tr> -<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_ELEVEN">XI</a></td><td align="left"> PRISONERS BY REQUEST</td><td align="right">157</td></tr> -<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_TWELVE">XII</a></td><td align="left"> THE COLONEL'S TRAP</td><td align="right">176</td></tr> -<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_THIRTEEN">XIII</a></td><td align="left"> DESERT DOOM</td><td align="right">189</td></tr> -<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_FOURTEEN">XIV</a></td><td align="left"> R. A. F. LIGHTNING</td><td align="right">205</td></tr> -<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_FIFTEEN">XV</a></td><td align="left"> VULTURE WINGS</td><td align="right">216</td></tr> -<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_SIXTEEN">XVI</a></td><td align="left"> DESERT WRATH</td><td align="right">230</td></tr> -<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_SEVENTEEN">XVII</a></td><td align="left"> CLAWS OF THE BRITISH LION</td><td align="right">246</td></tr> -</table></div> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_ONE" id="CHAPTER_ONE">CHAPTER ONE</a><br /> -<small><i>Mediterranean Patrol</i></small></h2> - - -<p>It was high noon and the Mediterranean sky was like a vast expanse of -blue silk with a golden ball pasted exactly in the middle. Far below, -the placid waters of the Mediterranean seemed to catch the blue of the -sky, keep some of it and fling the rest up heavenward again. Between -the blue sky and the blue water, at eighteen thousand feet to be exact, -a lone Blackburn "Skua" of the Royal Air Force, Fleet Air Arm, coasted -slowly about in a series of unending circles. At the controls of the -combination fighter and dive bomber, powered with a 830 hp. Bristol -Pegasus XII sleeve valve engine, sat Pilot Officer Dave Dawson, R.A.F. -Behind him, in the gunner-observer's pit, sat his pal and flying -comrade, Pilot Officer Freddy Farmer, R.A.F.</p> - -<p>For the last two hours they had been aloft doing their trick as advance -air scout for the H.M. Aircraft Carrier "Victory" and her four -escorting destroyers, steaming eastward for a rendezvous with the -main unit of the British Mediterranean fleet. Two hours of coasting -around high in the air far out in front of the Victory, and keeping -their eyes constantly peeled for the first sign of approaching enemy -air attackers. Thus far, however, they had seen nothing save the blue -sky, the blue water, and the golden ball that was the sun. At regular -fifteen minute intervals Dave had made his radio check in code with the -flight operations officer aboard the Victory. Each time there had been -nothing to report. And each time there had been no special orders from -the Victory.</p> - -<p>Two solid hours of flying, looking, and reporting nothing. And still -another whole hour to go before another Skua would be sent aloft -to relieve them and they could slide down to a landing on the long -flat deck of the Victory. Dave sighed, shifted to a more comfortable -position and looked back at Freddy Farmer.</p> - -<p>"My legs feel like they'll stay bent at the knees for the rest of my -life," he said, after removing the "flap-mike" from in front of his -lips. "How about you, my little man? How do you like active duty with -the Fleet Air Arm, huh?"</p> - -<p>The English youth shrugged and made a face.</p> - -<p>"Not even a little bit, so far," he replied. "And, by the by, my -lad, let me remind you it was your idea we put in for duty with the -Fleet Air Arm. Frankly, I wish we'd stayed with the Fighter Command in -England. It's been so long since I've had an air scrap I'm wondering if -I still know how to fire my guns."</p> - -<p>"Stop fishing for compliments," Dave said with a chuckle. "Just do what -you always do. Close your eyes, pray, and press the trigger button. If -there are enough Jerry or Muzzy ships about, one of them is bound to -fly into your bullets."</p> - -<p>Freddy Farmer scowled darkly and lifted a warning finger.</p> - -<p>"You seem to have forgotten something, my little American friend," he -said in mock reprimand.</p> - -<p>"Who, me?" Dave echoed. "Impossible! For even suggesting that I'd -forget anything, I think I'll challenge you to a duel with cup-cakes at -ten paces. But what have I forgotten, anyway?"</p> - -<p>Freddy Farmer tapped his own chest and closed one eye.</p> - -<p>"That I happen to be a pilot, too, though I'm serving as your observer -on this show," he said. "In other words, one more insulting remark -about my shooting ability and I shall be forced to dump you overboard, -parachute and all, and finish this patrol alone. You think I can't?"</p> - -<p>Dave shivered and shook in mock alarm.</p> - -<p>"Please, kind sir, spare me such a fate!" he cried. "It's a long way -down. Besides, you wouldn't want me to be court-martialed, would you, -and perhaps be kicked out of the Service?"</p> - -<p>"I fancy it would jolly well be a good thing for the Service," -Freddy came right back at him. "But I'll bite. Why would you be -court-martialed?"</p> - -<p>"For losing one perfectly good Blackburn Skua monoplane fighter," Dave -said gravely.</p> - -<p>"For losing one?" Freddy echoed before he could stop himself.</p> - -<p>"Sure." Dave nodded and widened his grin. "You'd be at the controls. -Same thing, isn't it?"</p> - -<p>Freddy's eyes snapped fire and the blood rushed into his cheeks. He -glared at Dave for a few seconds, and then slowly grinned sheepishly.</p> - -<p>"Okay, okay," he finally said. "To use your terrible American slang, I -walked into that one. But beginning with now, my lad, watch your step. -A Farmer always has the last laugh."</p> - -<p>"You bet, of course!" Dave hooted at him. "After everybody else has got -the point of the joke. Kidding aside, though, Freddy, I feel like you -do. I mean, it's nice to be down here where it's warm, and the sun -shines every day. And a boat ride on an aircraft carrier isn't tough to -take, either. But I sure could do with some more war. I feel—well, I -sort of feel as if I were cheating."</p> - -<p>"Cheating?" Freddy murmured. "What do you mean? Or is this another -wise-crack of yours? You seem full of them today, for some reason. Was -it what you had for breakfast?"</p> - -<p>"No, I'm talking seriously now," Dave replied. "I feel as though I were -cheating the lads we left back in England. You know, sort of running -out on them. The Jerries have been giving London and Liverpool, and -Manchester, and those other places, a pretty good pasting. It makes me -feel pretty punk to think I put in for a transfer to the Fleet Air Arm -down here in the Mediterranean, and—well, nothing's happened. See what -I mean?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, I do," Freddy said, and nodded gravely. "Feel a bit that way, -myself. However, when we put in for transfer, General Wavell's troops -were knocking the Italians forty ways from Sunday in Libya. It's not -really our fault we got down here after the show was all over."</p> - -<p>"No, I suppose not," Dave grunted. Then, frowning slightly, "I've been -wondering about that, Freddy."</p> - -<p>"About what?"</p> - -<p>"Whether the Libya show really is all over," Dave replied. "Heaven -spare me from trying to be a military expert, like those crystal ball -gazers you hear on the radio, but I've got a hunch Hitler will do -something before he lets General Wavell kick the Italians completely -out of Africa. And he sure seems to be doing it."</p> - -<p>"Quite," Freddy nodded. "And once again I agree with you. If you want -my opinion, I think British Middle East Command is jolly well <i>sure</i> -that Hitler <i>is</i> going to do something about it. In fact, he already -has."</p> - -<p>"Yeah?" Dave breathed and widened his eyes in interest. "What? And how -did you know, or do you?"</p> - -<p>"As you would say," Freddy replied with a grin, "I get around, pal. -I was talking with Group Captain Spencer on the Victory yesterday. -He said that there were reports the Germans were flying troops and -supplies from Sicily across to the main Italian base at Tripoli. -He also said he was sure that there would be an Axis drive against -Wavell's troops very shortly."</p> - -<p>"Flying stuff from Sicily to Tripoli?" Dave exclaimed. "Then what are -we doing way over toward the eastern end of the Mediterranean? We -should be off Sicily knocking them down as they start over."</p> - -<p>"That's the way I feel," Freddy said with a shrug. "However, I fancy -Admiral Cunningham, of the Mediterranean Fleet, knows what he's doing. -There's probably a bigger job to do first. Don't worry, if things get -hot in Libya, I fancy the Fleet Air Arm will be called on to do double -duty. The first job, though, is to find the rest of Mussolini's navy -and put it out of action for keeps."</p> - -<p>"There's a guy for you!" Dave snorted disgustedly. "Mussolini! Will he -give our grandchildren a lot of laughs! What a big bag of wind."</p> - -<p>"And I'd rather like to puncture it," Freddy added. "I feel sorry for -the Italian people. I've always liked them. But Mussolini! What a -rotter!"</p> - -<p>"What a dope!" Dave echoed. "He and that Ciano are a couple of first -class—"</p> - -<p>Dave didn't have a chance to say what Mussolini and Count Ciano were, -for at that moment he heard the brisk voice of the operations officer -aboard the Victory in his earphones.</p> - -<p>"Crimson to Patrol! Crimson to Patrol! Over!"</p> - -<p>Crimson was the code word meaning that the Victory was calling the -advance scouting patrol. And "Over" meant for Dave to reply that -he was receiving the signals. He quickly turned front and slid his -flap-mike up into place.</p> - -<p>"Patrol to Crimson!" he called. "Patrol to Crimson! Signals clear. -Over!"</p> - -<p>"Crimson to Patrol!" said the voice in the earphones. "Crimson to -Patrol. Relief patrol is off. Return to your base at once. Crimson to -Patrol! Return to your base at once. Over."</p> - -<p>Dave impulsively glanced at his instrument board clock and saw that it -still lacked forty-two minutes before the patrol trick would ordinarily -be through.</p> - -<p>"Patrol to Crimson!" he spoke into his flap-mike. "Orders received. -Coming in, Crimson. Over."</p> - -<p>"Okay, Patrol!" the earphones said. And then the radio went silent.</p> - -<p>Dave turned to see if Freddy had had his radio switched on. The English -youth had, of course, and he gave Dave a wide-eyed stare of wonder.</p> - -<p>"What's up, do you think, Dave?" he asked.</p> - -<p>"Search me," Dave replied with a shrug. "But orders are orders, and so -down we go. Hang onto your hats, children."</p> - -<p>As Dave spoke the last he eased back the throttle and sent the Skua -seaward in a long three quarter throttle power dive. He had dropped -some five or six thousand feet before he saw the relief patrol climbing -up into the blue. He waved a hand in greeting and continued on down. At -ten thousand feet he leveled off and banked west. A couple of seconds -later he picked up the aircraft carrier Victory. In the golden glare -of the sun it reminded him a little of a long narrow flatiron floating -upside down in the water. He headed straight for it, then suddenly -grinned and turned around to Freddy.</p> - -<p>"Figured it out yet?" he asked.</p> - -<p>"Naturally not," Freddy replied. "Have you?"</p> - -<p>Dave struggled to keep his face straight.</p> - -<p>"Of course I don't know for sure," he said, "but I think I've got a -pretty good hunch. It's Group Captain Spencer. He's a very considerate -officer, you know."</p> - -<p>"Group Captain Spencer?" Freddy echoed unsuspecting. "What has being a -considerate officer got to do with it?"</p> - -<p>"Well, I've got a hunch he likes me," Dave said. "So I suppose he -figured that being aloft with a guy named Farmer for three whole hours -was just too much to take. Ouch! Hey, lay off! Want me to dive us down -into the drink?"</p> - -<p>The last was because Freddy had moved swiftly forward, unsnapped -Dave's helmet strap and tilted the helmet down over his face. He held -it there as Dave struggled with his free hand.</p> - -<p>"Apologize?" Freddy demanded.</p> - -<p>"Okay, okay!" Dave cried. "I take it all back. Boy! Am I glad I didn't -make that crack just as we were sliding in to land."</p> - -<p>"Oh, I'd have waited a bit, I fancy," Freddy said, and grinned at -him. "No sense cracking up a nice airplane just to teach you a bit of -manners. Now, my lad, close that pretty mouth of yours and get us down -safely."</p> - -<p>"For two cents," Dave growled as he adjusted his helmet, "I'd—No, let -it go. Okay, my fine feathered friend. Watch, and learn."</p> - -<p>The Victory was now just ahead and steaming straight into the wind. -Dave roared by on the port side and took a look at the landing officer -(or flag officer) standing in a box-like structure that jutted out to -the right of the bridge. The officer held a yellow flag in each hand, -and as Dave and Freddy thundered by he signaled with the flags that the -deck was clear for a landing.</p> - -<p>After continuing on a certain distance astern of the carrier, Dave then -banked around and headed straight back, one hand on the stick, the -other on the throttle, and his eyes fixed steadfastly on the landing -officer. Landing on a carrier is not the same as landing on a ground -airdrome. When landing on a ground airdrome, the pilot does the whole -job. Not so on a carrier, however. There the landing officer tells the -incoming pilot exactly what to do. He does this with his signal flags. -He signals whether the pilot is too high, or too low; whether he is -too much to the left, or to the right; or if his plane is not trimmed -correctly. The pilot (if he is a wise pilot) does exactly as the -landing officer signals, and does not rely on his own judgment at all. -It has been proved time and time again that the incoming pilot who does -not obey the landing officer's signals implicitly winds up in a whole -lot of trouble, if not in the ship's Sick Bay.</p> - -<p>And so Dave kept his eyes fixed on that officer with the yellow -flags and brought the Blackburn Skua down closer and closer to the -Victory's polished flight deck. Finally he caught the signal to cut his -throttle way back. He did so, and the plane sank down onto the deck. -Almost before the secret arresting gear had pulled it to a full stop, -mechanics were rushing out to take over.</p> - -<p>As Dave and Freddy climbed out and stretched their cramped legs, the -deck duty officer came over.</p> - -<p>"Get out of your duds and get polished up, you two," he said with a -grin. "All pilots are to report in the Ready Room in twenty minutes. So -hop to it."</p> - -<p>The deck duty officer was no more than a couple of years older than -Dave and Freddy, and his flying rank was the same. His name was -Talbert, and he ate at the same mess table as the boys. Dave gave him a -searching look, then spoke in a low voice.</p> - -<p>"You wouldn't know, would you, Tal?" he asked. "I mean, what it's all -about?"</p> - -<p>"Not a blessed thing, Dawson," the other replied with a shake of his -head. "Big doings, though, I shouldn't wonder. Group Captain Spencer -looks quite hot and bothered. I fancy he isn't collecting us to serve -tea. Now off with you. Mustn't clutter up the flight deck, you know."</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_TWO" id="CHAPTER_TWO">CHAPTER TWO</a><br /> -<small><i>Orders from G.H.Q.</i></small></h2> - - -<p>Group Captain Spencer was a big man with iron grey hair and a face that -made you think of chiseled granite. He had served as a fighting pilot -in World War No. 1, and the double row of decoration ribbons under his -wings were proof enough that he had served his country well. A bullet -scar just over his right eye was a constant reminder of a very close -shave with Death. It added to the striking appearance of his broad, -square-jawed face. As a matter of fact, Group Captain Spencer had yet -to see forty-five years of age, but war had left its stamp on him so -that he actually looked well over fifty.</p> - -<p>He stood straddle-legged on the small platform at one end of the Ready -Room while the Victory's fighter pilots, an even thirty-four of them, -filed into the room and found seats. When finally they were all seated -and silent, Group Captain Spencer cleared his throat and took a step -closer to the edge of the platform.</p> - -<p>"No doubt you lads are pretty fed up with patrolling around and not -getting much of a chance to do any shooting," he said, and grinned -faintly. "Well, that's because the fleet has been trying to smoke out -the Italian navy—that is, what's left of it."</p> - -<p>The senior officer paused, and a ripple of laughter spread from lip to -lip.</p> - -<p>"It's now pretty plain that Mussolini's sea chaps don't fancy a fight," -Group Captain Spencer continued. "They've bottled themselves up in -port, and won't come out. In time we'll have to go after them like we -did at the Taranto Naval Base last November Twelfth. That kind of fun -will have to wait a bit, though. More important things to do first. In -short, Hitler is sticking his finger in the African pie—the Libyan -pie, to be exact."</p> - -<p>A murmur of suppressed excitement spread about the room. The pilots sat -up a bit straighter and waited expectantly. Freddy looked at Dave and -winked. Dave winked back and nodded his head.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/map.jpg" width="600" height="372" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>"I'll give you a picture of what has happened," Group Captain Spencer -said abruptly. "Last fall General Wavell, commander in chief of His -Majesty's Middle East Armies, had two jobs to tackle, two rather -tough nuts to crack. One was the job of pushing Marshal Graziani's -Italian forces out of western Egypt and back into Libya. The other -was to drive the Italians out of Eritrea and Ethiopia to the south of -Egypt. I say they were two tough nuts to crack because General Wavell -didn't have the troops, mechanized divisions or the planes he really -needed for the jobs. However, as the world knows now, he did what he -could with what he had, and did a very fine job, too."</p> - -<p>The senior officer paused and made a little gesture with his hand that -said the pilots could smoke if they wished. As a matter of fact, he -lighted up a cigarette himself.</p> - -<p>"On December Ninth, last year," the group captain went on, "General -Wavell started a surprise offensive against Graziani's most advanced -forces at Matruh, in Egypt. He caught the Italians completely off guard -and they started one of the wildest retreats in military history. -By February of this year General Wavell's British, Australian, New -Zealand, and South African troops were in possession of Bengazi, in -Libya, some eight hundred miles from the starting point of the drive. -And what was left of the Italian army was fleeing for its life along -the desert shoreline to Tripoli, the main Italian base in Libya, and -its capital. That offensive by Wavell will go down in war history as -one of the most brilliant ever accomplished.</p> - -<p>"Now, as soon as the Italians had been thrown back, General Wavell took -all the troops, tanks, and planes that he could spare and sent them -against the Italians in Eritrea and Ethiopia. In short, he left but a -skeleton force occupying the captured Italian positions in Libya. He -had to do that because he didn't have enough troops for both jobs. As -we know, he did another fine job down to the south. It won't be long -now before the whole of Eritrea and Ethiopia will be in British hands. -However—"</p> - -<p>Group Captain Spencer paused, and his face became grim and set.</p> - -<p>"However," he began again, "while General Wavell has been busy down -in Eritrea and Ethiopia, Hitler has stepped in to lend a hand to -the Italians in Libya. In short, during the last two weeks or so, -German transport planes have been transporting German troops across -the Mediterranean from Sicily to Tripoli in Libya. Tanks, guns, and -supplies have been sneaked across in Italian ships that race for French -Tunisia and then hug the coast of that French African colony and get -safely to Tripoli. The British Mediterranean Naval Command has known -what was going on, at least to a certain degree. Anyway, steps have now -been taken to put a stop to it. However, the naval job out here is a -big one, and the first job was to knock out the Italian navy."</p> - -<p>The senior officer took time out to clear his throat and have a glass -of water.</p> - -<p>"Well, the Italian navy isn't very much, now," he continued presently, -"so the next job is to do something about this business of Hitler -helping the Italians in Libya. We know that German planes, tanks, and -troops are in Libya. We know, also, that a German-Italian, or Axis, -drive is soon to be launched against Wavell's forces in Libya. But -when, and at what points, and the real strength of the German-Italian -forces are three things we do <i>not</i> know. Those three things must be -found out, and as soon as possible. To put it bluntly, the Fleet Air -Arm is going to try to find the answers for the British Middle East -High Command. And to put it even more bluntly, you chaps are going to -have first crack at the job."</p> - -<p>Group Captain Spencer stopped abruptly and turned to a huge map on the -wall behind him. Picking up a red crayon, he marked an X on a spot in -the Mediterranean. Dave saw that it was a point halfway between the -island of Crete and the Libya-Egyptian frontier line.</p> - -<p>"That is the Victory's position now," the group captain said. "Between -now and sundown we will change course several times. When darkness -settles down, we will change course again and head for this spot, -here—a position about thirty miles off Misurata on the Libyan coast, -and some two hundred miles east of Tripoli. We will arrive there at a -certain time before dawn tomorrow. At that time one plane, with pilot -and observer, will take off and, under the cover of darkness, head -inland. The plane will be fitted with extra gas tanks, allowing for -a good eight hour flight. It will also be fitted with a special fast -action aerial camera.</p> - -<p>"Now, the job of that pilot and observer will be to patrol the areas -east and southeast of Tripoli and make notes, and photos, of everything -of interest. And let me say right here, don't pass up a single thing -just because it interests you only a little. Get a good look at -everything, and a picture of it, if possible. When it is time to return -to the Victory, the pilot will head for a certain point that will be -made known to him just before he takes off. The Victory will be there -to take him aboard. Now, before I carry on, any questions?"</p> - -<p>Nobody moved for a moment; then Dave Dawson slowly stood up.</p> - -<p>"Yes, Dawson?" Group Captain Spencer asked briskly.</p> - -<p>"Why one plane, sir?" Dave asked. "If two planes went out, and there -were trouble, perhaps at least one of them would return?"</p> - -<p>"A good question," Group Captain Spencer said. "And in a way, you're -absolutely right, Dawson. However, I'm sending out just one plane for a -special reason. First, though, let me explain why the Fleet Air Arm is -tackling this job instead of an R.A.F. fighter or reconnaissance unit -already based in occupied Libya. It's for this reason: distance! We can -get in close under the cover of darkness, and save a good two or three -hundred mile flight a plane would have to make from an R.A.F. drome at -Bengazi. Also, by going straight south from the coast, we can be over -our objectives before they realize we're there. Planes, or even one -plane, from the R.A.F. drome at Bengazi would be heard and spotted long -before it reached the area we want to study.</p> - -<p>"We are sending out one plane for this reason. And it's very simple. -The enemy spotters might not pay much attention to a single plane -wandering about high above them. We're hoping they'll think it some -ship that has lost its bearings. There will be no marking at all on -the plane. Two planes, however, would definitely arouse the suspicions -of enemy spotters. They would know at once that two planes were there -for a special reason, and not just lost. Therefore they would open -fire, and send up defending aircraft, and the time would be taken up -with fighting instead of observing. Does that explain it, Dawson?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir," Dave replied. "You're quite right, sir. It's a one plane -job. But it's to be one plane <i>at a time</i>, isn't it, sir?"</p> - -<p>The group captain nodded and looked very grave.</p> - -<p>"I hope it won't be," he said quietly, "but for the present we are -planning it that way. In short, if the first plane does not return, or -if the information it brings back is not of much value, then a second -plane will be sent out, and a third, and a fourth, and a fifth, and so -on, until we find out what we want to know. Frankly, it is a ticklish -job the British Middle East High Command has asked the Fleet Air Arm to -perform. And the Fleet Air Arm Command has turned the job over to us. -Now, any more questions?"</p> - -<p>Dave felt Freddy Farmer stiffen at his side, then saw his flying pal -stand up.</p> - -<p>"Yes, Farmer?" Group Captain Spencer asked.</p> - -<p>Freddy hesitated a brief instant, and then spoke.</p> - -<p>"It is not a question, sir," he said in a low but clear voice.</p> - -<p>"Then what is it?" the group captain demanded gruffly.</p> - -<p>"A request, sir," Freddy replied promptly. "I should like to volunteer -to go in the first plane."</p> - -<p>Freddy's words opened the floodgates of a reservoir of sound. Instantly -every other pilot in the room leaped to his feet and shouted the -request to be selected for that first plane. Group Captain Spencer -grinned happily, then held up both his hands, and shook his head.</p> - -<p>"Just a minute, you chaps!" he roared. Then, when he had obtained -silence, "Just waiting for one of you lads to start it off. And I knew -perfectly well that every one of you would fight for the job. That's -the kind of spirit that has made the Fleet Air Arm the two-fisted, -do-or-die unit that it is. However, we're not going to do it that way. -I'm not going to select anybody. It wouldn't be fair. Besides, I don't -fancy to be dumped overboard some dark night by some lad I didn't -select. I like to wear just trunks when I go swimming, you know, not -full dress service uniform."</p> - -<p>The pilots roared with laughter, and then Group Captain Spencer -continued.</p> - -<p>"No, the way we'll decide that is by drawing lots," he said. "There are -thirty-four of you lads here, and in this cap of mine are thirty-four -folded slips of paper."</p> - -<p>The group captain picked up his service cap that had been resting top -side down on a table on his right.</p> - -<p>"Thirty-four folded slips of paper," he said, and put the cap down on -the table again. "Thirty-three of them are blank. The thirty-fourth -has an X marked on it. Now, you will line up, and each will draw a -folded slip of paper from the cap. The one who draws the paper with the -X on it will be the pilot of the first plane. Now, to make sure the -flight will go off smoothly, so that there'll be no possible chance -of friction, the man who draws the marked slip can choose the chap he -would like to have along as his observer. Of course you are all pilots, -so if anything happens to the lad at the controls the other chap can -take over at once. Naturally, I hope nothing will happen. You never can -tell, though. As I said, this is a ticklish job, and a mighty important -one. It may well prove to be the most important job you've tackled -since entering the service. Now, line up and—"</p> - -<p>Group Captain Spencer cut himself off short and shook his head.</p> - -<p>"No, half a minute," he said. "There's one other thing I'd better say, -though it's probably unnecessary. It is a volunteer job. I mean, the -chap who draws the marked slip can decline if he wishes, and that will -be that. Also, the chum he chooses to go along with him can decline, -too."</p> - -<p>"Not likely, sir, I fancy!" some pilot at the back of the Ready Room -called out.</p> - -<p>"Not likely at all!" the rest shouted in the same breath.</p> - -<p>Group Captain Spencer grinned broadly, and the glow of affection and -admiration was in his dark eyes.</p> - -<p>"So be it," he said, and picked up the service cap filled with folded -slips of paper. "Right-o, lads, line up. And don't fight for places. -Maybe the last chap in line will draw the lucky slip. Anyway, hop to -it."</p> - -<p>The pilots bounded from their seats and hastened to form a line. After -a bit of good-natured pushing and shoving they were all in line. Freddy -and Dave were together about a quarter of the way down the line. Dave -was in front of Freddy, and he turned and grinned at his pal.</p> - -<p>"If I get that slip it will sure be a problem," he said.</p> - -<p>"Why a problem?" Freddy asked. "I'll jolly well be tickled pink, I can -tell you."</p> - -<p>Dave nodded and shrugged.</p> - -<p>"Oh sure, me too," he retorted. "But all these fellows on the Victory -are swell. It will be quite a problem to decide whom to take along with -me. See what I mean?"</p> - -<p>Freddy's jaw dropped in amazement, and a faint hurt look came into -his eyes. Then suddenly, as he saw the grin on Dave's lips, the blood -rushed into his cheeks, and anger took the place of the hurt look in -his eyes.</p> - -<p>"You—you!" he fumed, and stumbled. "You wait, my lad. I'll fix you for -that one later. Look! Parks is drawing the first slip!"</p> - -<p>The two boys snapped their gaze to the front end of the line. So did -everybody else, for that matter. A tall, lean-jawed pilot by the name -of Parks was on the point of dipping his hand into the service cap. -He didn't make it, however. His hand suddenly froze in midair as the -inter-ship communication speaker fitted into the Ready Room wall -started barking out words.</p> - -<p>"All out, Fighter Unit! Enemy aircraft sighted! All out, Fighter Unit. -Snappy, now! All out, Fighter Unit!"</p> - -<p>For one brief instant not a man in the Ready Room moved a muscle. Then -the place was turned into a whirlwind of action. It was a whirlwind of -orderly action, however. Those boys of the Victory's fighter unit were -well trained. This was not the first air alarm they had received, nor -would it be the last. Each pilot knew just what he was supposed to do, -when he was to do it, and where. Group Captain Spencer didn't sing out -one word of command. He didn't have to. He knew his boys well. He just -tossed his cap full of folded slips back on the table and dived out of -the room. The pilots dived out at his heels.</p> - -<p>In less time than it takes to tell about it the whole group was up -on the flight deck and hastening to their planes as they strapped on -helmets and Mae West life jackets, and wiggled into parachute harness -held out by mechanics. Other mechanics had sprung for the planes at -the first word of alarm, and the flight deck shook from the thunder of -whirring engines. Group Captain Spencer had received information of the -position, types and number of enemy aircraft. He started talking the -instant he leaped into his leading ship and plugged in the radio jack -of his head-phones.</p> - -<p>"Twenty thousand feet over Zone CK!" he shouted into all listening -ears. "About thirty of them, advance scout patrol reports. Junkers Ju. -Eighty-Eights, and some Heinkel One-Elevens. Take off by sections of -three and get up there fast. Right-o, lads!"</p> - -<p>Dave's and Freddy's plane was in the fourth section of planes lined up -at the stern end of the flight deck. Faces bright with excitement, they -sat motionless while Group Captain Spencer led the first section off. -As it went ripping along the smooth deck, mechanics guided the second -section into place and sent it off. Then the third. Then Dave's plane -and the two other ships in the section moved forward into position. The -operations officer on the bridge dropped his flag down and away they -went.</p> - -<p>Holding the ship steady in its take-off run, and keeping well clear -of his two companion planes, Dave gave the Blackburn Skua's Bristol -Pegasus engine full throttle. The plane seemed fairly to skip along -the deck for a very short distance, then it was off and prop climbing -toward the clear blue of the Mediterranean sky.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_THREE" id="CHAPTER_THREE">CHAPTER THREE</a><br /> - -<small><i>Action Aloft!</i></small></h2> - - -<p>As the deck of the Victory fell away from him Dave cranked up the -Skua's wheels to add to its perfect streamline design and thus gain -additional climbing speed. Sections One, Two, and Three were well above -him and heading westward and slightly to the north. For a second he -turned his head and glanced down back at the carrier. Every plane was -off and in the air. The escort destroyers were circling the Victory and -laying a thick smoke screen into which the carrier could plunge and -make herself difficult to see in case the approaching enemy aircraft -did break through. As a matter of fact, even as Dave stared downward, -the Victory seemed to merge right in with a thick layer of soot black -smoke.</p> - -<p>"Quick work, eh?" he heard Freddy's shout. "Those destroyer chaps are a -little bit of all right, eh?"</p> - -<p>"They're tops, what I mean!" Dave shouted back. "How're you doing, -Freddy?"</p> - -<p>"Right enough!" the English youth said with a grin. "Get some more -speed out of her, won't you? Wouldn't like to be left behind, you know."</p> - -<p>"You old fire horse!" Dave said with a laugh, and turned front.</p> - -<p>The altimeter now showed fifteen thousand feet of air under the wings, -and the Skua was still going up like a skyrocket, keeping perfect pace -with the two other planes of its section. Dave's blood danced with -excitement, and he hoped hard that the leading sections would not meet -and drive the enemy aircraft away before he could get there. It had -been some time since he and Freddy had tangled with enemy craft. A -little practice in gunnery and combat flying wouldn't do either of them -any harm.</p> - -<p>"Doggone right!" he echoed the thought aloud. "Feel like a bandit -taking this last month's pay for doing practically nothing. And I—"</p> - -<p>He cut himself off short as he suddenly heard Group Captain Spencer's -voice in his earphones.</p> - -<p>"Well, jolly well hurry up, Dawson, and earn some of that pay today!"</p> - -<p>Dave sat up straight, and gasped. Then as he heard the chuckle in the -earphones he blushed to the roots of his hair and grinned sheepishly. -For a second he had clean forgotten that every word he spoke into the -radio mike went into the earphones of every other Victory pilot in -the air, as well as into the earphones of every man at the operations -station aboard the carrier.</p> - -<p>"Sorry, sir," he mumbled. "Just talking rot to myself, and not -thinking."</p> - -<p>"Quite all right, Dawson!" came the cheery reply in his phone. "Get six -or seven of these beggars and I'll forgive you. I'll—There they are, -Crimson pilots! Dead ahead at twenty-one thousand. Well, well! Quite a -mess of them. Spread out and let them go down. Right-o, Crimson pilots. -Tally-ho!"</p> - -<p>Dave gripped the stick tighter and peered hard upward and ahead at the -Mediterranean sky. At first he saw nothing but blue streaked by the -brassy glare of the sun. Then suddenly he saw the swarm of dots—tiny -dots, like a horde of gnats streaking along high up in the heavens. A -moment or so later, however, they ceased to be dots that looked like -gnats. The leading group nosed down and in almost no time they took on -the definite shape and outline of Junker Ju. 88s, the huge long range -Luftwaffe bombers powered by twin Daimler-Benz engines, which since -tryouts during the winter over England had been changed some so that -instead of being confined to level flight bombing they could perform -Stuka or dive bombing work as well. Behind them in the second group -were Heinkel 111 Ks, medium-sized bombers powered by two Junkers Juno -radial engines.</p> - -<p>Slipping the safety guard off the trigger button of his guns, Dave -studied the enemy planes intently. That the Junkers 88s were heading -down while the Heinkels stayed at altitude—in fact, were even starting -to climb higher—seemed proof enough that a savage Stuka attack was to -be made on the Victory while the main body of raiding aircraft swept -onward to attack the principal unit of the British fleet a hundred -miles or so ahead.</p> - -<p>At that moment he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around to find -Freddy's grinning face close to his.</p> - -<p>"Almost like a test, isn't it?" Freddy said, and held a hand over his -flap-mike.</p> - -<p>"Test?" Dave echoed and looked blank. "What do you mean, test?"</p> - -<p>"As if the Fleet Air Arm Command had asked Goering to send some of his -lads out from Italy or Sicily to see if we are still in shape," Freddy -said. "Those are enemy planes, aren't they? It's been so long, you -know."</p> - -<p>"I think so." Dave grinned. "Tell you what, though, I'll find out for -sure. Just sit tight while I fly across in front of one of them. If -they shoot that funny look off your face, then we can be sure they're -Nazis."</p> - -<p>"Thank you, no!" Freddy said with a scowl. "Just you get us close, -that's all. I can perfectly well find out for myself whether they're my -friends or my foes!"</p> - -<p>"Just wanted to help out a pal, that's all," Dave said, and turned -front.</p> - -<p>In another couple of moments the time for horse play and kidding was -all over. The first of the diving Junkers had reached the level of the -First and Second sections of the Victory's fighter planes. And those -fighter planes tore in like so many steel-clawed eagles gone completely -haywire. The air suddenly shook from the yammer and chatter of British -and German aerial machine guns. And punctuating the rattle of the -machine guns was the deeper and louder note of the air cannon mounted -on the German craft.</p> - -<p>Cannon or not, it made no difference to the pilots of the First and -Second sections. As Dave fixed his gaze on them, and jammed his free -hand hard against the throttle as if he could get more speed, he saw -three of the 88s lose their wings and go cartwheeling off to the side, -leaving behind great globs of oily black smoke hanging suspended in the -blue sky. Another couple of minutes and two more 88s trying to wheel -clear of the Victory's defending planes locked wings by mistake and -blew up in a roar of sound that must have been heard all the way back -to their home drome, wherever it was located.</p> - -<p>A couple of more Junkers started running into trouble, but Dave didn't -bother to watch how they made out. His section was now within gun -range, and each pilot was picking out his Nazi plane to attack. Dave -cut off and up toward the belly of an 88 that had zoomed and was trying -frantically to get altitude. Dave steadied himself and the ship, got -the Junkers square in his sights and then let drive with his four guns. -He saw his gleaming tracers smoke up into the under side of the 88 -like so many metal fireflies. At the same time four jetting tongues of -flame stabbed down at him, and he knew that the Junkers' gunners were -not being caught napping. He knew, too, an instant later, when his Skua -shook and trembled slightly, that those gunners were not exactly blind -men when it came to marksmanship.</p> - -<p>His bursts, however, were the ones that counted. The firing from the -Junkers suddenly ceased, and the craft lunged drunkenly off to the -right. Dave held his ship in its zoom until the last moment, and then -flung it over on its side. The maneuver left a perfect target for -Freddy Farmer in the rear pit. And the young English youth was ready -and set. His twin guns spat flame and sound, and even as Dave jerked -his head around for a look, he saw a ribbon of flame dribble out from -the port engine of the 88, and then sweep back over the wing and along -the fuselage to the tail. The Nazi bomber became a roaring ball of -flame in an instant, and as Dave cartwheeled away he caught the flash -of its bombs falling away. The German pilot had released them so that -they would not explode before he and members of his crew could bail out -of the blazing plane.</p> - -<p>It so happened, though, that the Nazi pilot forgot about one bomb, or -perhaps the release toggle stuck. At any rate, that section of the -sky was suddenly filled with flashing light and a blast of sound that -seemed virtually to drive Dave's eardrums deep into his head. He could -even feel the concussion of the explosion slap against the Blackburn -Skua like a soggy wet blanket, and try to whip it over on its back. It -was all Dave could do to hold the plane in its speed gaining dive and -prevent it from flopping into a tight power spin.</p> - -<p>"Nice going, Freddy!" he shouted back over his shoulder. "But next -time tell the guys to shake their bombs off first. Boy! Is my head -ringing!"</p> - -<p>"So's mine!" Freddy shouted back. "Right-o, Dave! Let's get another of -the beggars. Attack our fleet, will they! Up at the rotters, Dave!"</p> - -<p>Even as Freddy was shouting the words, Dave had cut the Skua off to the -right, then whipped it over and down in a lightning-like half roll. -There, directly below his diving nose, was another 88. He opened fire -at once, then curved up and away so that Freddy could rake the plane -from nose to tail as they raced past. The Nazi craft didn't burst -into flame. Instead, it rolled over in the air like a tired bird. For -a moment or so it hovered on its back. Then it fell off on one wing, -and down. White puffs began to appear off to the side, well below -the crippled plane slowly slip-sliding downward to its final end in -the clear blue waters of the Mediterranean. The white puffs were the -parachute envelopes of the pilots and crew members who had bailed out -of the helpless craft.</p> - -<p>Neither Dave nor Freddy, however, gave them so much as a second glance. -The first group of the dive-bombing Junkers had been broken up. At -least ten of them had been put out of the war for keeps, and the others -were beating a hasty retreat to the west. The Heinkels, however, had -not come down. They had gone up for more altitude instead, and had -tried to race beyond the defending Victory fighters and reach their -objectives far to the east.</p> - -<p>They had tried, yes, but they had not succeeded. The sections in back -of Dave's section had climbed swiftly up to meet those Heinkels and by -sheer fighting power had forced them to turn off toward the north—that -is, all but two of them. Two Heinkels had somehow broken through the -barrier of defending Skuas and were now thundering down to level bomb -the Victory far below.</p> - -<p>Nazi though they might be, Dave could not help but feel a certain -amount of admiration for the pilots and crews. It was a suicide attack -they were about to make, and they obviously knew it. With all hope -of reaching the British fleet blasted by the furious defense of the -Victory's planes, two of those Heinkel pilots had decided to do what -they could against the Victory below. To have continued on eastward -would simply have meant a short passing of time before the speedy Skuas -caught up with them and shot them out of the air. And so they had -elected to do what damage they could to the Victory, and unquestionably -they would pay for it with their lives.</p> - -<p>"You've got to hand it to them," Dave muttered somewhat reluctantly as -he sent his Skua hurtling downward. "At least that's two of Goering's -guys who have what it takes. Too bad they signed up to play on the -wrong team!"</p> - -<p>A moment later, however, all feeling of sympathy and admiration was -gone. The Victory was down there, and the enemy was wing howling down -to blow it out of the water, if such a miracle could be performed. -There were pals of Dave's down there on that carrier, pals who would -risk their lives any day to save him. It was up to him to risk his, -now, to save them. The diving Heinkels ceased to be airplanes manned by -human beings like himself. They became in his mind two winged machines -of death and destruction hurtling down to snuff out the lives of his -pals and fellow officers.</p> - -<p>And so he braced himself in the seat and dropped the Skua's nose -down to the vertical. The Bristol engine in the nose screamed out -its song of power, and the air rushing past set up a shrill constant -whistle. Hunching forward, Dave pressed hard against his safety belt -harness, tightened the muscles of his stomach, kept his mouth open and -continually swallowed to reduce the air pressure in his ears. But all -the time he kept his eyes riveted on the nearest diving Heinkel.</p> - -<p>It all took up but a few brief seconds, and then he was streaking down -on top of the German bomber. Its gunners opened up with everything -they had, and the air in front of Dave's nose was filled with the wavy -streams of tracer smoke. He did not veer to the left or right for an -instant. He held his ship steady until a vital part of the bomber was -square in his sights. Then he let out a yell and jabbed his trigger -button. The four Vickers guns cowled into the leading edge of the -wing, two on each side of the nose, and yammered out their song of -destruction.</p> - -<p>For what seemed an hour to Dave's tightly knotted nerves, the Heinkel -continued on down in its dive. In reality it was not longer than it -would take you to snap your fingers before smoke and flame belched out -from the bomber to envelop it completely. It continued on down in its -dive, however. But it slammed straight down into the water a good five -miles astern of the zigzagging Victory.</p> - -<p>The instant Dave saw the smoke and flame spew upward, he cut his fire, -started to ease his ship up out of its thundering dive, and cast his -eyes about for a glimpse of the second diving Heinkel. He spotted it -almost at once off to his left, and as soon as he saw it he realized -he didn't have to worry about it at all. Two of the Victory's planes, -one of them piloted by Group Captain Spencer, had caught the bomber in -a deadly crossfire. Three seconds later and that Heinkel was out of the -war and on a one way flight down to a watery grave in the Mediterranean.</p> - -<p>Dave relaxed in the seat a bit, pulled his plane up onto an even keel -and glanced around at the heavens above him. The heavens were filled -with flashing wings, but they were all wings made in England. There -wasn't the sign of a single German plane. Those ships that had escaped -the Victory pilots were by now so far away they couldn't be seen by the -naked eye. A moment later Group Captain Spencer's voice came over the -radio.</p> - -<p>"Reform sections, Crimson pilots! Going aboard. Reform your sections, -Crimson pilots. I want to count noses!"</p> - -<p>The last caused Dave's heart to skip a beat. It wasn't until that -moment he had realized the possibility that perhaps English as well as -German pilots had gone down into the Mediterranean. While he hunted out -the two planes of his section and dropped into formation, he tried to -count noses himself. But before he had time to make sure of his count, -he heard welcome words in his earphones.</p> - -<p>"Good lads, all of you!" called Group Captain Spencer. "All present and -accounted for. Fine! Fancy those beggars can't say the same. Right-o! -Aboard you go in sections as you took off. Land by sections in line -astern."</p> - -<p>The last meant that as each section of three planes slid down to be -taken aboard the carrier, the left and right planes would drop into -line behind the center plane. In other words, instead of three abreast, -or in V formation, they would be three in line behind each other, or in -line astern.</p> - -<p>By the time the first section had dropped down to a low altitude, the -Victory had moved out of its protective smoke screen and was steaming -into the wind. Dave glanced downward to see the escort destroyers -circling back and around to pick up all surviving German airmen who -might be in the water. Reaction hit him for a second and he shivered -impulsively. Lady Luck had flown with him again, else he too might be -down there floating around—or perhaps going down for the third time!</p> - -<p>And then as he switched his attention back to his flying, Lady Luck did -desert him, and old man Tough Luck laughed in his face. He yanked the -release level that worked the mechanism that lowered his wheels—only -the little red light on the instrument board did not wink out. The -little red light was the pilot's guide as to whether his wheels were -up or down. And the fact that it was on told him that his wheels were -still up.</p> - -<p>He worked the release lever gently a couple of times, but the light did -not go out. He banged it hard with his fist, and whipped the nose of -the plane up and down in an effort to jar the wheels down. The little -red light, however, stayed on. At that moment Freddy leaned forward and -rapped him on the shoulder.</p> - -<p>"The right wheel, Dave!" he cried. "I can just see it from back here. -It's stuck a quarter of the way down. I guess a Junkers or Heinkel -gunner gave us a souvenir to take home. Cut a retracting gear cable, -probably. I think I see the end of one whipping about in our prop-wash."</p> - -<p>"Okay, thanks," Dave shouted back. "I'll try some more and then radio -Operations."</p> - -<p>Feeding high test gas to his engine, he pulled quickly upward and -out of formation. Then, when he was well clear of the other sections -drifting down to be taken aboard the carrier, he started kicking the -Skua around in a desperate effort to get the right wheel to go all the -way down. But it was no use. He could get both wheels back up into the -wing sockets, but he could not get the right wheel more than a quarter -of the way down. He finally gave up, gave Freddy an apologetic grin and -called Operations aboard the carrier. He had been watched all the time, -of course, and the orders were given to him at once.</p> - -<p>"Get your wheels up, and keep them there, Dawson. Come down for a water -landing. A crash boat will stand by to take you aboard at once. Land -half a mile ahead of us. Good luck!"</p> - -<p>"Thank you, sir," Dave replied in a voice that shook with emotion.</p> - -<p>Of course it would be too dangerous for all concerned to attempt what -is known as a "belly landing" aboard the carrier—a landing on the -belly of the plane with both wheels up in the wings. The slightest -skid could end up in a bad crash and quite possibly fire. And fire by -accident aboard a carrier at sea is bad enough without asking for it, -or tempting it. With that plan of action being out of the question, -there were two other things that could be ordered done. One was to -land in the water. The other was for Freddy and himself to bail out -and let the ship crash. That he had not been given the last order was -an unspoken compliment to his flying ability. Operations had faith he -could sit down in the water without doing damage to Freddy or himself, -or serious damage to the plane. Operations wanted to salvage the plane -and repair it aboard, and Operations was counting on him to make it -possible to save the ship.</p> - -<p>For a moment he sat perfectly motionless at the controls, as though -afraid that movement would end the thrilling spell through which he was -passing. Then Freddy did break it by banging him on the shoulder.</p> - -<p>"Get to it, my lad!" Freddy shouted. "The blasted water isn't coming up -here to us, you know. You can do it in pukka style. We both know that."</p> - -<p>Dave shook himself out of his trance, got his wheels back up into the -wings, and then headed for a point half a mile ahead of the Victory. As -he winged past the carrier, he saw one of the crash boats being lowered -over the side. Then all that was behind him and there was just the -expanse of the Mediterranean ahead. At the right moment he hauled the -throttle back, and tilted the nose downward. Every muscle and nerve in -him was drawn bow string tight as the blue water rose up toward him.</p> - -<p>It was not the first time he had put a land plane down in the water, -but on those other occasions it had not mattered if he cracked up the -plane a bit. This time was different. The Victory needed this Blackburn -Skua. The Fleet Air Arm in the Mediterranean had too few planes as it -was. Every ship it could salvage was as good as two brand-new planes on -the long way out from the factory in Britain. He had to make this the -best landing of his flying career. He owed it to Freddy, he owed it to -the rest of the boys aboard the Victory—and he owed it to himself.</p> - -<p>One second ticked past. Two seconds—three. And then the blue water -was right underneath him. He whipped out his free hand and cut the -ignition. With his other hand he eased back the stick and brought the -nose up a few inches. Flying speed fell off instantly. The plane seemed -to hang motionless just off the surface of the water. The round crest -of a gentle blue swell rolled by and whispered up against the belly -of the plane. As though a thousand glue-covered fingers had touched -the bottom of the plane, the Skua stuck to the water. It lurched just -slightly and plowed up a faint spray. Then it settled a bit by the -nose, steadied, and floated as nicely as a duck on a millpond.</p> - -<p>Dave let the clamped air out of his lungs in a rush of sound. It was -not until then he realized that his face was dripping with sweat. He -gulped and turned around to look at Freddy. The blood was coming back -into the English youth's face. He was smiling, and his eyes were bright -with something that was far more than just friendly affection. Then he -seemed to catch himself showing his inner emotions. He gave a little -nod of his head and broadened his grin.</p> - -<p>"Well done, my lad!" he shouted. "My sincerest congratulations. It was -so beautiful, that for a minute I thought—Oh, let it go."</p> - -<p>"You thought what?" Dave demanded, and tried to get his heart to ease -up from thumping so hard against his ribs.</p> - -<p>Freddy arched his eyebrows and gestured with one hand.</p> - -<p>"Why, it was so perfect," he said, "that for a moment I thought I was -flying the blasted thing."</p> - -<p>The crazy remark snapped the tension in Dave. He relaxed completely, -and laughed and made a pass at Freddy. They were still kidding and -horsing around when the crash boat slid up alongside, took them aboard, -and began towing the floating plane back to the hoisting crane aboard -the Victory. When they reached the carrier, the cheer that came down to -Dave's ears sounded like the sweetest music he had ever heard in his -life.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_FOUR" id="CHAPTER_FOUR">CHAPTER FOUR</a><br /> - -<small><i>Pilot's Luck</i></small></h2> - - -<p>For the second time that day the fighter pilots of the Carrier Victory -filed into the Ready Room and found seats. Group Captain Spencer -grinned and nodded to each youth as he entered. To Dave Dawson he gave -a broad grin and a wink that made the Yank R.A.F. pilot feel as good -as though the Distinguished Flying Cross Medal had been pinned on his -tunic. Finally all were seated and every eye was fixed on the group -captain standing on the little platform.</p> - -<p>"Sorry about that little interruption," he presently said with a -chuckle. "I give you my word, it wasn't something I arranged just to -see if you lads were up on your toes. I knew that all the time. And I -fancy the Jerries know it <i>now</i>, too. A good job, and I'm jolly well -proud of you. Well, on with the unfinished business."</p> - -<p>The senior officer picked up the service cap filled with folded slips -of paper and stepped forward to the edge of the platform.</p> - -<p>"Right-o, line up again," he said. Then, with a grin, "If there's -another blasted raid alarm, we'll just pretend that we didn't hear it. -Mustn't keep you fire eaters in suspense forever, you know. Right-o! -Line forms on the left."</p> - -<p>The pilots formed a line again. By mutual consent they gave Pilot -Officer Parks the number one position, but they didn't bother figuring -out who else had had what position in line the first time. They just -all sifted into places in back of Parks, and let it go at that. As a -matter of fact, Dave found that he was four men in front of Freddy. The -pair had become separated during the shuffling into line.</p> - -<p>Eventually everything was set. A hushed stillness settled over the -Ready Room as Parks dipped his hand into the cap and pulled out a -folded slip. He took a step to the side and opened it with trembling -fingers. Every other pilot watched his face, and waited expectantly. -They saw hope fade into bitter disappointment. The pilot crumbled the -slip into a little ball and threw it disgustedly on the deck.</p> - -<p>"That's Parks luck for you!" he growled. "A blasted blank!"</p> - -<p>"Chin up, old fellow," Group Captain Spencer smiled at him. "Maybe your -best pal will draw it. Right you are. Next chap!"</p> - -<p>One by one the pilots drew slips from the cap and examined them, full -of hope and eagerness. And one by one they were laughed at by Lady Luck -just as she had laughed at Pilot Officer Parks. Finally it was Dave -Dawson's turn. He reached up his hand, then hesitated and looked down -at his other hand to make sure that his fingers were crossed. Group -Captain Spencer followed his look, and chuckled softly.</p> - -<p>"Did doing that help you in that close shave upstairs, Dawson?" he -asked. "If so, I must do it myself from now on. Blessed if I didn't see -one of those Jerries stick his machine gun right square in your face, -and still he missed you. Oh well, go ahead and draw."</p> - -<p>Dave dipped his fingers into the cap, fingered a couple of the folded -slips, and then drew one out. His head was singing faintly, and the -blood was surging, through his veins as he stepped to the side and -unfolded the slip. What he saw, gave him the sensation of a bucket of -ice water spilling down over him. The slip was blank on both sides! -He grinned weakly, wadded up the slip of paper and flipped it away in -disappointed disgust just as the others had done. Then he walked over -to a chair and sat down to watch the rest of the drawing.</p> - -<p>He stopped watching, and so did everybody else, when Freddy Farmer -unfolded the slip he had drawn. The English youth's eager face suddenly -lighted up like a Christmas tree, and his hands trembled so much with -excitement that the slip fluttered down onto the deck.</p> - -<p>"Got it!" he shouted, and bent down to retrieve the slip. "I really -have. See?"</p> - -<p>He jumped around on first one foot and then the other and wildly waved -the little slip about over his head.</p> - -<p>"I say, land, will you, Farmer?" Group Captain Spencer shouted at him -good-naturedly. "I'm sure you're not pulling our leg, but let's have a -look at the thing, anyway."</p> - -<p>Freddy stopped jumping around and held out the slip so that all could -see the X marked on one side.</p> - -<p>"That's it, right enough," Group Captain Spencer said, and tossed -the cap with the remaining folded slips back on the table. "Well, -congratulations, Farmer. And I guess we don't have to guess whom you -want to take along with you, eh?"</p> - -<p>Dave's disappointment at not having drawn the slip blew away into -nothing when he saw the X on Freddy's slip. He looked at his pal and -grinned, and waited to hear Freddy ask him to go along on the dangerous -venture. A couple of moments later, though, a cold wave seemed to -spread through him, and his heart became a hard lump in his chest. -Freddy had passed his eyes right over him and was studying the faces of -the other pilots. Could it be that Freddy—? Was Freddy going to choose -somebody—?</p> - -<p>"I don't know, sir," he heard Freddy say through a dull rumbling in -his ears. "It's a very important job, and a chap must be sure of the -fellow he takes along with him. Yes, sir. Must give it a bit of serious -thought, you know. Now—let me see. Blessed if it isn't a hard job to -choose the right man."</p> - -<p>Dave could hardly believe his ears as he heard the words that fell from -Freddy Farmer's lips. And he could hardly believe his eyes as he saw -the English youth almost deliberately turn his back on him and look at -the other pilots. He was conscious, too, of the general air of stunned -amazement that pervaded the Ready Room. It was obvious that everybody -else had expected Freddy to ask Dave at once.</p> - -<p>"As difficult as that, Farmer?" Group Captain Spencer presently asked -with a puzzled frown on his face.</p> - -<p>"Oh yes, sir, quite difficult," Freddy said, turning to him. Then, with -a wink at the group captain that everybody saw, he turned to look at -Dave, and asked, "Would you like to go along, my little man?"</p> - -<p>Dave blinked, gulped, and then realized in a flash that Freddy hadn't -actually given a single thought to anybody else. He had simply been -paying him back for those wise-cracks while on advance scout patrol, -just as he had promised; paying him back by keeping him hanging on -tenterhooks. Dave's first impulse was to leap forward and turn Freddy -over his knee. He beat back the urge, however. Instead he let loose a -loud sigh of relief that snapped the tension in the room and caused -everybody to burst out laughing. He looked at the impish I-told-you-so -expression on Freddy's face and nodded gravely.</p> - -<p>"I accept, Pilot Officer Farmer," he said in solemn tones. "However, on -one condition."</p> - -<p>"Condition?" Freddy echoed, and his grin faded.</p> - -<p>"Yes," Dave said with a very straight face. "On Group Captain Spencer's -guarantee."</p> - -<p>"<i>My</i> guarantee?" gasped the group captain. "What in thunder do you -mean, Dawson?"</p> - -<p>Dave hesitated and acted as though he were reluctant to speak.</p> - -<p>"You're sure it would be safe, sir?" he asked gravely. "I mean, with -this officer along? He wouldn't get in my way, or anything?"</p> - -<p>There was pin-dropping silence for a second, and then the Ready Room -rocked with the roar of laughter that went up. Freddy went beet red to -the roots of his hair and glared at Dave.</p> - -<p>"Safe?" he shouted. "<i>I'm</i> jolly well the one who has to worry about -being safe. Oh well, I've made my choice. I'll act the gentleman and -stick by it."</p> - -<p>"All right, all right, you two!" Group Captain Spencer called out as -Dave opened his mouth to reply to that one. "Do the rest of your leg -pulling in the plane. Man, how I pity the Jerry who takes you two -prisoners. You'd drive the poor devil clean off his topper with your -crazy talk. Well, anyway, that's that. You two, of course, are relieved -of all other duties beginning with now. Meet me in my quarters right -after evening mess. We'll do a little bit of plotting and planning, in -case it should come in handy. Right-o, chaps, that's all. Dismissed!"</p> - -<p>Three hours later Dave and Freddy were stretching their legs up on the -flight deck. They had had mess and in a short time they would report -to Group Captain Spencer in his quarters. First, though they felt they -would like a stroll and a few words together. Since the drawing, they -had not had much of a chance to be alone. Though they had been relieved -of all duties, they had not merely sat back and taken things easy. -They were real pilots, right to the core, and as soon as Group Captain -Spencer had dismissed them they had gone below decks to the repair -station to have a look at the Skua that had been hoisted aboard. An -inspection of the plane, as the Victory's mechanics worked on it, had -brought to light the true reason for the retractable landing gear's -failure to function. As Freddy had guessed, bullets had parted one of -the cables, and a free end of the cable had been whipped up by the -propeller wash to catch in the retracting gear and jam it so that the -right wheel couldn't go more than a quarter of the way down.</p> - -<p>That, however, was not the most important thing they found out. -Inspection also showed that both of them had come within three inches -or less of becoming dead pilots. Bullet holes in the fuselage and -cockpit cowling (or hood) showed clearly how narrow had been the margin -by which death had passed them by. Two or three inches one way or the -other and they would most certainly have joined their Junkers and -Heinkel victims down in the gentle blue swells of the Mediterranean.</p> - -<p>And now they were walking down their dinner along the long narrow -flight deck of the Victory.</p> - -<p>"In case you didn't get the idea," Dave said, breaking a moment's -silence, "you sure gave me a sweet case of heart failure in the Ready -Room this afternoon. No fooling, I thought sure you were honestly -giving me the cold shoulder. Gosh! I didn't know what to think."</p> - -<p>"Let it be a lesson to you," Freddy replied with a grin. Then, in a -serious tone, "But I should be sore at you for even thinking I'd pick -anybody else but you. After that landing you made? I should say not."</p> - -<p>"Thanks," Dave said. "But I was scared stiff bringing that ship down. -And between you, me, and the stern of this deck, there was an awful lot -of luck mixed up in that landing. A couple of times I thought she was -getting away from me. I'd sure hate to have to do it every day."</p> - -<p>"Well, it was perfect," Freddy said. "A hundred times better than a -landing I recall you once made in the English Channel."<a name="FNanchor_A_1" id="FNanchor_A_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a></p> - -<p>"<i>You</i> recall?" Dave scoffed at him. "How could you? You were out cold -that time, and you know it. And, boy, when I turned around and saw -you—!"</p> - -<p>Dave left the sentence hanging in midair and shook his head as though -to drive away the heart-chilling memory.</p> - -<p>"Gee, it sure is different down here, isn't it?" he said, changing the -subject.</p> - -<p>"Meaning what?" Freddy asked.</p> - -<p>Dave pointed a finger toward the east.</p> - -<p>"The way day becomes night," he said. "Up north you have a couple of -hours of twilight. But down this way you have only a couple of minutes -of it. The sun goes down and then, bang, it's dark in nothing flat. I -never realized that before about this section of the world."</p> - -<p>"Well, it's a good thing when a pack of Jerries are on your tail, I -fancy," Freddy grunted. "You can dive and lose them in the dark. And -speaking of the dark, watch your take-off just before dawn tomorrow. -Wouldn't be nice to crack us up before we get started, you know."</p> - -<p>Dave turned his head and stared in amazement.</p> - -<p>"<i>Me</i> watch the take-off?" he ejaculated. "Where do you get that stuff? -You drew the marked slip. That makes you the pilot of the plane. Me, -I'm the back seat driver."</p> - -<p>"Oh, no, you're not!" Freddy argued. "I'm a very bright lad, I'll have -you know. I know a pukka pilot when I see one. And I'm looking at you, -see? Besides, I guess I never told you, but I'm a regular camera fiend. -And the passenger works the camera. No, Dave, you do the flying. I'll -take the pictures and try to bother you with back seat talk as much as -I can."</p> - -<p>"You really mean that, Freddy?" Dave asked. "You want me to take the -controls?"</p> - -<p>"That's right," the English youth nodded. Then, with a quick frown, -"But don't take it as a compliment, my lad. I'm simply the lazy type, -that's all. I like to have other people work for me."</p> - -<p>"Aw, nuts!" Dave breathed in mock disappointment. "Just when I thought -the guy was admitting I was good."</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_FIVE" id="CHAPTER_FIVE">CHAPTER FIVE</a><br /> - -<small><i>Enemy Maneuvers</i></small></h2> - - -<p>Night had dropped down over the Mediterranean, and the H.M. Aircraft -Carrier Victory was running without lights in a southwesterly -direction. There was plenty of light below decks, however, but whenever -an outside door was opened the bright lights immediately winked out -and the pale blue "battle lights" glowed. Thus it was impossible for -any telltale glow of light to reveal the Victory's presence to any -nearby enemy craft of the sea, or to any enemy aircraft that might be -patrolling the air above. True, the pale glow of the battle lights -escaped into the night, but it was so dim as not to be noticed even at -close range.</p> - -<p>In Group Captain Spencer's quarters, Dave and Freddy bent over a huge -map spread out on the desk, and listened closely to their senior -officer's words.</p> - -<p>"Here we are, now," the group captain said, touching the map with the -point of his finger. "We have changed course for the last time, and -it's pretty certain that the enemy has no idea what we're up to. It was -lucky we were still steaming along at the rear of the main fleet unit -when those Jerries showed up this afternoon. Had we been in the act -of cutting away then, those lads who did get back to their base would -certainly have reported us up to something. As it is, though, they -probably think we're still tagging along with the fleet."</p> - -<p>"And probably hoping we hit a couple of mines," Dave added with a -chuckle.</p> - -<p>"Probably," Group Captain Spencer agreed with a grin. "I don't believe -those lads feel very kindly toward the Victory right now. We certainly -gave them something to think about this afternoon. But, as I was -saying, here we are right at this moment. In six hours, that'll be two -o'clock tomorrow morning, we will be about fifty miles off the Libyan -coastal town of Misurata. That is, of course, unless a couple of our -destroyers that are way out in front of us sight something to make us -change our plans."</p> - -<p>"I sure hope not," Freddy said with a frown. "I'm all for this scouting -show, and want to get on with it."</p> - -<p>"Me, too!" Dave chimed in. "I've got a hunch I'm going to get a big -kick out of it."</p> - -<p>"I hope that's all you get out of it, except the much needed -information," Group Captain Spencer said softly. "I don't want to sound -like a phonograph record, but this is a mighty dangerous mission. You -see, we haven't the faintest idea what you may or may not run into. -Before you've hardly flown in from the coast you may run slap bang into -a swarm of Axis planes on patrol. Then, too, much of your flying will -have to be done blind. I mean, Libya isn't like England or France where -there are towns, and rivers, and lakes, and all that sort of thing to -serve as landmarks. It's a blasted expanse of sand, once you get in a -way from the coast. And your only landmarks to fly by will be a tiny -oasis village here and there that you can miss very easily because they -blend in so perfectly with the cursed sand. I've done quite a bit of -flying out that way, and I can tell you that it certainly isn't any -pleasure hop."</p> - -<p>"We'll jolly well be praying that the engine keeps ticking over," -Freddy murmured.</p> - -<p>"Right you are, and pray hard," Group Captain Spencer said with an -abrupt nod of his head. "That's another of the several dangers attached -to this show—a forced landing. Behind our own lines, a forced landing -in the blasted desert is bad enough. But a forced landing behind the -Axis outposts will be doubly unpleasant. And that brings up something -I might just as well mention now as later. I said that this show is to -be a secret. I meant it! It's to be just that. There will be no Fleet -Air Arm markings on your plane. And you will not wear anything or even -carry anything that would connect you in any way with the Fleet Air -Arm, or the Victory. You'll not even take along your Mae West life -jackets. And in case you are forced down in the desert, you will set -fire to your ship at once. You understand that perfectly?"</p> - -<p>The two boys nodded together.</p> - -<p>"And if you are forced down, don't expect planes to be sent out to look -for you," Group Captain Spencer continued grimly. "You will be strictly -on your own. You can't expect any rescue help from us. That sounds -pretty grim, and it is. But we've got to work it out that way. To let -the enemy even suspect that the Victory had slipped in close to shore, -and that the Fleet Air Arm was taking an active hand in the Libya -problem, might result in no end of trouble. For one thing, it would -have every German and Italian plane within range out hunting for the -Victory. And that would put us in a pretty bad spot, if we were caught -so far away from the main body of the fleet. And—By the way, what -I've just said doesn't change your desire to tackle the job, does it?"</p> - -<p>Neither of the boys said anything. They just sat there looking at him -quietly. The group captain flushed faintly and smiled.</p> - -<p>"Sorry, lads," he said. "Just thought it was up to me to ask, you know. -But, back to the job. The minute you leave the flight deck you will be -on your own. You will have extra tanks that should last you about eight -hours. You will have your guns, and such, in case you do bump into -Axis winged trouble. You will have a camera and plenty of plates. You -won't have a radio, though, because to use it might give your position -away, and the Victory's, too. There must be no radio contact between -you chaps and the Victory. Another part of your equipment consists of -items I hope you will not be called upon to use. Briefly, they are -water flasks, emergency rations, pocket compass, sun helmets, service -automatics, and one or two other things."</p> - -<p>"Say, could I make a suggestion, sir?" Dave suddenly spoke up as the -senior officer paused. "It might help in case we did run into trouble -and went down."</p> - -<p>"Certainly you may make suggestions," Group Captain Spencer said with a -broad smile. "My word, you chaps are doing the show, you know. What is -it, Dawson?"</p> - -<p>"The clothes we wear, sir," Dave said. "Why not go all the way in -fooling them about a connection with the Fleet Air Arm and the Victory? -Why couldn't Freddy and I wear regulation desert infantry or machine -gun company uniforms? Say, British, or Australian, or New Zealand? -Uniforms from one of General Wavell's outfits?"</p> - -<p>Group Captain Spencer looked impressed, but Freddy frowned slightly.</p> - -<p>"But what about the plane, Dave?" he objected.</p> - -<p>"Well, what about it?" Dave wanted to know. "If we can't set it afire -in the air before we bail out—if we have to—we'll certainly destroy -it as soon as we're on the ground. Later, if we are picked up, we're -just a couple of infantrymen who got lost from a desert scouting -patrol. See what I mean? What plane? Sure we saw a plane land and burn -up, but it looked to us as if the poor devils in it burned up, too. See -what I mean, Freddy?"</p> - -<p>The English youth's face suddenly lighted up and he became all smiles.</p> - -<p>"Sure, of course!" he cried. "Am I stupid! Not a chance in the world -of them connecting us up with the plane and perhaps trying to force a -story out of us."</p> - -<p>"Right!" Dave echoed. "And as a couple of captured infantrymen, we -won't be so important to them as a couple of captured airmen. They -might not watch us so closely, and if we should get a break, why—Well, -figure it from there."</p> - -<p>"I say, hold it up a bit!" Group Captain Spencer cried. "I've half a -mind not to let you tackle the show. My word, you've practically failed -and got yourselves taken prisoners already. However, that's a good -suggestion of yours, Dawson. I'll see Ship's Stores after we finish -talking and have them fix up a couple of infantry uniforms for you. -Now, get your eyes on this map again."</p> - -<p>All three of them bent closer to the map, and the group captain -continued speaking.</p> - -<p>"Here's Wavell's most advanced outpost," he said, and pointed his -finger, "here at El Aghelia, in the curve of the Gulf of Sidra. Eight -hours after you take off the Victory will be at this point off the -Libyan coast. See, I've written down the exact latitude and longitude. -Take a good look, both of you, and get that location reading stamped in -your brain."</p> - -<p>Dave and Freddy repeated the figures several times to themselves until -they were sure they would not possibly forget them. Then Dave looked -at Group Captain Spencer.</p> - -<p>"That point's only some thirty miles off Bengazi," he said, "and some -three hundred miles east of the point where we'll take off. The Victory -will have to do a lot of steaming to get there in eight hours."</p> - -<p>"Yes," the group captain nodded. "But she can do it, with a bit to -spare. I know what's in your mind, though. You're wondering why the -Victory doesn't just put out to sea a bit, and then come in again to -take you aboard?"</p> - -<p>"I was wondering about that, sir," Dave admitted.</p> - -<p>"Well, she's not going to do that for two reasons," the senior officer -said. "First, because it will be daylight and it would be too much -of a risk to cruise around so far to the west. We might be sighted -by Axis planes crossing over from Sicily. The other reason is for -your protection as well as ours. As you can see by looking at this -map, your return flight will take you from El Aghelia up the eastern -coast of the Gulf of Sidra to Bengazi and then on out to sea to our -rendezvous point. That way you'll have less of an overwater flight to -make to reach us. Also, if you are chased by enemy aircraft and get -into trouble, you'll be in a position to make a run for a safe landing -on British-occupied ground. The Victory will have an advance scouting -plane aloft all the time, and if its pilot sees you in trouble the -Victory will be notified at once so that she can make tracks away from -the rendezvous area."</p> - -<p>The group captain paused for breath and to light a cigarette.</p> - -<p>"And that is another thing I want to warn you about," he said -presently. "If you are chased by enemy aircraft, make <i>no attempt to -reach the Victory until you have completely shaken off and lost all -such aircraft</i>. In short, and to sum it all up very bluntly, you have -about two chances of making the scouting patrol a success as against -ninety-eight chances of failing."</p> - -<p>"One chance in forty-nine," Freddy murmured, and then shrugged. "Well, -I fancy that's better than one chance in a hundred."</p> - -<p>"Tell us this, sir," Dave said. "Supposing we have to land at Bengazi, -or some other British held point, what then? I mean, how do we make -contact with the Victory?"</p> - -<p>"You don't," Group Captain Spencer said bluntly. "Not unless you have -information of vital value to the Fleet Air Arm, or the fleet itself. -Any information, and all pictures you obtain of Axis positions and so -forth, you will turn over to the commandant of the Bengazi post for -immediate transfer to General Wavell's headquarters. If your plane -is in a condition to permit you to fly on to H.Q., then do so. The -main thing, though, is to get the information and pictures to General -Wavell's headquarters the fastest way possible."</p> - -<p>"And if we have information of value to the Air Arm or the fleet?" -Freddy prompted.</p> - -<p>"In that event," the group captain said with a frown, "we'll have to -take a chance on the Bengazi radio informing us so that we can arrange -for some other point of rendezvous, or some way of your getting the -information to us. But I repeat once again: the Victory is playing a -sort of lone wolf game in this thing, and she cannot run any risk of -being caught and sunk by Axis planes, or even seriously damaged. You -don't build an aircraft carrier in a day, you know. And we all know we -have all too few of them as it is. The loss, or a long lay-up, of the -Victory would be a serious blow to the Air Arm as well as to the fleet. -Naturally, I'm counting on you two—and all other pilots we may have to -send out on this job—not to put the safety of the Victory in jeopardy -at any time, no matter what the cost may be to yourselves. In fact—"</p> - -<p>The senior officer paused and made a face.</p> - -<p>"In fact, she may even play a dirty trick on you," he continued after -a moment. "I mean, she may find it too dangerous to make a rendezvous -contact with you—and won't be there when you show up. However, there -is a very slim chance of that. If it does happen, you will try to make -land if you possibly can."</p> - -<p>Dave nodded, then looked at Freddy and chuckled.</p> - -<p>"What's funny about that?" the English youth wanted to know.</p> - -<p>"Not a thing," Dave replied, but kept a grin on his face. "It was -just a crazy thought I had. The way this thing stacks up, you'd think -the Victory doesn't want to see us any more. But we'll fool her, eh, -Freddy? She can't toss us out into the cold, cruel world like that, can -she?"</p> - -<p>"I should say not!" Freddy said with a short laugh. "I like the Victory -very much. The old girl can't give me the cold shoulder. No, not a bit -of it."</p> - -<p>"Now I'm sure of it!" Group Captain Spencer exclaimed with an abrupt -nod.</p> - -<p>The two pilots stared at him.</p> - -<p>"What's that, sir?" Freddy murmured.</p> - -<p>"That you'll jolly well come through this with flying colors," Group -Captain Spencer said. "I've met a lot of chaps who right now would -be worrying themselves sick and biting their nails over the danger -possibilities of this venture. But the way you two—well, to use a bit -of your American slang, Dawson—the way you two take it all in stride, -and fun around, makes me feel sure that you'll come out on top. Chaps -like you two worry about the dangers afterward, not before. You take -care of things as they pop up, and I suppose that's the way it should -be."</p> - -<p>"Well, don't worry, sir," Dave said. "Freddy and I'll both be in there -pitching."</p> - -<p>"Eh, pitching?" Group Captain Spencer murmured with a frown.</p> - -<p>"More American slang, sir," Dave explained. "It means, we'll be -swinging all the time, right from the bell. We'll be right on the old -beam—in the groove, and—Well, you know what I mean, sir."</p> - -<p>"Er—er, yes, of course," the senior officer said a bit dubiously. "Oh, -quite! Well, I guess that ends this session, unless either of you chaps -have anything to ask?"</p> - -<p>"Not me, sir," Dave said with a shake of his head. "I reckon I've got -it all down pat."</p> - -<p>"Me, too, sir," Freddy echoed with a nod.</p> - -<p>"Right-o," Group Captain Spencer said, and crushed out his cigarette. -"Go rest up a bit, now, and relax. I'll see about those infantry -uniforms from Ship's Stores. Afterward we'll check over everything -you're taking along. Right now, though, relax and try to get your -thoughts on other things. That's all."</p> - -<p>After the two boys had left, the group captain stared silently at the -closed door of his quarters for a long moment. Then presently he smiled -and nodded his head.</p> - -<p>"Just youngsters," he murmured softly, "but, by George, they've got the -fighting hearts and courage of a dozen men!"</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_SIX" id="CHAPTER_SIX">CHAPTER SIX</a><br /> - -<small><i>Desert Mystery</i></small></h2> - - -<p>A billion or so stars winked down on the long black shadow that was -the Aircraft Carrier Victory sliding through the even blacker waters -of the Mediterranean. A row of tiny pin points of light stretched the -entire length of the starboard side of the flight deck, and at the -stern end was a lone Blackburn Skua fighter-dive bomber with its prop -slowly ticking over. In the forward pit sat Dave Dawson, and behind him -in the gunner's pit was Freddy Farmer. Off to one side stood a silent, -watchful group of flight deck mechanics. And on the stub step of one -wing, with his head and shoulders inside the partly opened cockpit -hood, stood Group Captain Spencer.</p> - -<p>Everything possible that could be done, had been done. The plane, -fitted with extra tanks to add to its cruising range and time in the -air, had been checked and rechecked from propeller boss to rudder -post. Every square inch of wing surface, every wire, every nut, and -every cotter pin, had been carefully examined by expert eyes. The -plan of flight had been gone over two or three times, and last minute -instructions had been delivered. All was ready for the take-off. There -was nothing more to be said or done. The success or failure of the -highly important mission about to be made was strictly in the hands, -the capable hands, of two stout-hearted, fighting Royal Air Force -pilots, attached for special duty to His Majesty's Fleet Air Arm.</p> - -<p>"Happy landings, you two," Group Captain Spencer said quietly, though -his voice trembled with deep emotion. "We're all counting on you, and -pulling for you. And—well, good luck."</p> - -<p>The group captain quickly squeezed the hand of each and then stepped -down and away from the plane. Dave grinned at him, nodded, and then -turned his gaze to the instrument board. Every instrument received his -intent scrutiny. Then finally he twisted around in the seat and looked -at Freddy.</p> - -<p>"Ready, little man?" he grunted.</p> - -<p>The English youth snorted and shrugged.</p> - -<p>"For what?" he demanded. "For tea to be served? You're certainly -hanging around long enough for us to have some. Stop making the old -girl wait! She wants to be rid of us—well, you, anyway."</p> - -<p>Dave grinned, and winked.</p> - -<p>"So we both feel the same way, eh?" he grunted.</p> - -<p>"What way?" Freddy demanded.</p> - -<p>Dave put a hand to the side of his mouth.</p> - -<p>"My heart's bumping up against my back teeth, too!" he whispered.</p> - -<p>"Aren't you right!" Freddy whispered back. "So hurry up and get us off -this blasted carrier before we change our minds. It's the waiting that -gets me down."</p> - -<p>"But it's your old pal who gets you <i>up</i>!" Dave cracked, and turned -front.</p> - -<p>With a final look and a nod toward Group Captain Spencer standing with -the flight deck mechanics, he kicked off the wheel brakes and slowly -opened the throttle, or the "gate," as the R.A.F. boys call it. The -Bristol Pegasus engine increased the tone of its song and the plane -moved forward, picking up speed with every revolution of the engine. -Dave pushed the stick forward, got the tail up and sent the plane -streaking along the smooth deck on its wheels. A split second later the -"Island" (the bridge and superstructure of an aircraft carrier) flashed -by on his left. Another few seconds and he pulled the plane clear and -the tiny row of pin point take-off guide lights on his right fell away.</p> - -<p>He held the ship in a steady climb for a couple of thousand feet or -so. Then he leveled off, banked around to the south, and set his plane -on the first leg of his compass course. That done with, he pulled back -the throttle to cruising speed, shifted to a slightly more comfortable -position in the seat and put his lips to the flap-mike.</p> - -<p>"Calling Crimson!" he said. "Plane off. Calling—"</p> - -<p>He cut himself off short as Freddy's hand banged down on his shoulder. -Right afterward he heard the English youth's words in his ears.</p> - -<p>"A beautiful start of things, I must say!" Freddy shouted. "The lad is -balmy, and talking to himself so soon. I say, Dave, save that until -they put you in a padded cell, eh?"</p> - -<p>"What the—?" Dave shouted, and then stopped short. "My gosh!" he then -blurted out. "I'll never live this down with you around. Boy! Am I -bright!"</p> - -<p>Dave shook his head in a sheepish gesture and kept his face front so -that Freddy couldn't see its bright color even in the faint pale glow -of the instrument board light. He had started to radio check with -Operations aboard the Victory only to have Freddy's descending hand -and wise-crack wake him up to the fact that the Skua's radio had been -taken out, and that he had actually just been talking into thin air. -The flap-mike was fastened to the lower part of his helmet, but it -wasn't hooked up to anything.</p> - -<p>He mentally kicked himself all over the plane for being so stupid, and -finally turned around to grin at Freddy.</p> - -<p>"You want to change seats after that one?" he asked.</p> - -<p>The English youth grinned, but shook his head.</p> - -<p>"No, I think not," he said. "If that's the worst you do before we're -back, everything will come out all right."</p> - -<p>"It will come out all right!" Dave echoed in a rush of words. "This job -means a lot, Freddy. We can't let the Fleet Air Arm down."</p> - -<p>"We won't," Freddy said, and the look in his eyes said that he meant -just that.</p> - -<p>"Atta boy!" Dave chuckled. "That's the old fight. And don't worry, pal, -I won't let you down, either. Gosh! I'd cut my throat if I did."</p> - -<p>"Oh no, you wouldn't!" Freddy said firmly.</p> - -<p>"No?"</p> - -<p>"No, Dave, my lad," Freddy said, "because I'd jolly well cut it for -you, see? Well, there's the first thread of dawn."</p> - -<p>As Freddy spoke, he pointed toward the east off the left wing. Dave -looked in that direction and saw the thin grey line low down on the -horizon. It was the very first signal that the sun was on its way up -for a new day. Like night, day comes fast in the Middle East. The first -telltale grey line mounts and brightens, and then while you watch a -blaze of color streams up over the horizon and starts racing after the -shadows of night you can actually see if you turn to the west and look. -It is something like the way thunder clouds look sliding down over the -horizon before the slanting rays of the sun that has finally broken -through—bright and golden to one horizon, and dark and murky to the -other.</p> - -<p>Letting the plane more or less fly itself, Dave sat staring toward the -east and watched the dawning of a new day. In an abstract sort of way -he wondered where Freddy and he would be when that sun coming up had -made its journey across the sky and had slid down over the western lip -of the world. Would they be safely back on the Victory? Would they be -at El Aghelia, or Bengazi, or some other British Libyan outpost? Would -they be down on the Libyan sands with nothing but a charred heap of -wreckage for an airplane? Or would they—</p> - -<p>He shook his head angrily as though to drive away the thoughts. They -came creeping back to him, however. They sneaked up on his brain when -he wasn't suspecting them. And little by little the dangerous side of -this mission crept in to occupy his mind. Back on the Victory he had -simply accepted as a matter of course that the flight would be fraught -with danger. All flights made in war skies were that way. That's why -wars were wars. So even after Group Captain Spencer's repeated words -about the dangers involved, he had refused to give much thought to that -angle of the venture.</p> - -<p>He was giving considerable thought to it now, though, and much against -his will. That there was an eerie trembling at the back of his neck, -and that his heart pounded much too hard, made him furious at himself. -His fury, however, didn't drive away the tantalizing thoughts. There, -just a few miles ahead of him now, was the Libyan coast. Beyond were -miles and miles of hot, blazing desert sands, dotted here and there by -a native village so small you could drop it down into Times Square, New -York, and hardly be able to find it again. And all of those countless -miles of desert were held by the enemy, patrolled by them on the -ground, and in the air.</p> - -<p>The truth of the matter was that he and Freddy were heading straight -into a world where neither man nor nature was their friend. The blazing -sun, and the burning sands, were just as much their foes as a Nazi -tank, or a Nazi plane, or a squad of desert troops. Their only friend, -their only ally, was the Blackburn Skua and its 830 hp. Bristol Pegasus -engine. The plane, the engine, and their own will and ability to -survive.</p> - -<p>"Hey, what are you shaking your head about? Something wrong?"</p> - -<p>He turned at the sound of Freddy's voice and grinned reassuringly.</p> - -<p>"Just thinking things over, and adding up the points on our side," -he said. "You know me! Old Man Cold Feet, once I get started off on -something."</p> - -<p>"Stop fishing for compliments!" Freddy laughed at him. "Your feet -aren't half as cold as mine. And—Uh-uh! Get us some altitude, Dave. -Looks like some kind of a coastal patrol plane down there and to the -right. What do you make of it?"</p> - -<p>Dave leaned forward and to the side and stared downward in the -direction of Freddy's pointed finger. A few thousand feet below a murky -shadow was moving toward the northwest. Though the light was bad, the -shadow was moving too swiftly for it to be any kind of a surface ship. -It was a plane, no doubt about that. However, Dave didn't waste time -to make sure whether it was British or Axis. He pulled the Skua's nose -upward, and fed a bit more fuel to the smooth singing Pegasus engine.</p> - -<p>"Maybe it's just two other guys!" he called back over his shoulder. -"We'll ignore them just the same. Company's something we don't crave. -All set with that camera, Freddy? The sun's coming up fast, and you -never can tell how soon we might spot something."</p> - -<p>"All set, and ready to start clicking!" the English youth replied. "You -show me something, and I'll do the rest. I'm a whiz at this sort of -thing, you'll understand."</p> - -<p>"Let you know about that after I see some of the results!" Dave -chuckled, and held the Skua in its long climb up over the coastline of -Libya.</p> - -<p>An hour later they were deep over the desert and the sun was a brassy -ball that touched the sweeping sands below with fingers of fire. Dave's -eyes ached and smarted from the constant glare, despite the sun lenses -he had slipped on over the glass of his goggles. They had long since -shoved open the cockpit hood, because, though it was uncomfortable in -the steady beat of the sun's rays, it was like flying along inside a -baker's oven when the hood was shut.</p> - -<p>An hour's flight over the desert, and nothing but sand, sand, and more -sand. Here and there dark streaks had marked rocky strips that pushed -up through the burning sands. And a few tiny dots from their altitude -were clumps of desert bush, and a dried up oasis or two. But they -didn't sight a single village, though they strained their eyes until -they ached almost unbearably. And as far as troops, tanks, and other -motorized equipment went, they might just as well have been coasting -around over the middle of the Atlantic Ocean.</p> - -<p>There just wasn't anything below them but sand during the first hour of -patrol. And the scene was not one bit changed at the end of the second -hour. As a matter of fact, the scene was so much the same Dave had the -crazy feeling they had been hovering motionless in the same spot of air -for time on end. For the last twenty minutes neither of them had spoken -a word. To talk was an effort and, besides, there was so little to talk -about save the one thought that each kept to himself, the one gnawing -fear within each. It was the mounting realization that failure of the -mission was beginning to hover in the offing.</p> - -<p>For two solid hours, during which time they had covered countless -square miles of enemy territory, they hadn't sighted a single thing -worth remembering. No troop depots, no desert outposts, no roving tank -patrols, and not even any enemy aircraft. That last, the fact they had -not sighted a single Italian or Nazi plane in the air, plagued Dave -and caused the fingers of worry to play upon his tightly drawn nerves. -True, they had not flown close to Tripoli, or anywhere near it. Perhaps -Tripoli was overflowing with Axis planes and mechanized desert units. -That wasn't the point. That wasn't the reason Freddy and he had been -sent out on this scouting patrol.</p> - -<p>The British High Command knew that troops and equipment had been -assembled at Tripoli. What the High Command didn't know was <i>if</i> any -of those units had moved out into the desert, and where, and in what -numbers. It stood to reason that the Axis High Command in Libya hadn't -kept them bottled up in the Tripoli area for fear of surprise attack by -Wavell's forces. That was foolish, if for no other reason than the fact -that over four hundred miles of desert lay between the most advanced -British outpost and the Tripoli garrison.</p> - -<p>It was a dead sure thing that parts of the Axis forces had moved out -into the desert, and had established communication lines with the main -base. Yet—</p> - -<p>"Yet there's not a single sign of them!" Dave spoke the thought aloud. -"Not a gosh darn sign—unless we're stone blind, and can't see beyond -our noses!"</p> - -<p>"What did you say, Dave?" he heard Freddy ask.</p> - -<p>He turned in the seat and shrugged.</p> - -<p>"Just talking aloud," he said. "This business is getting me down. Why -haven't we seen anything? Even a village would help. But it's all as -blank as a sheet of paper—yeah, a sheet of sand paper. Look, Freddy, -I'm just about making up my mind to something."</p> - -<p>"To go back?" Freddy asked, and a worried look stole into his eyes.</p> - -<p>"Back, nothing!" Dave snorted. "We've still got gas. We're not licked -by a darn sight. No, that isn't the idea. Look, we've covered a lot -of ground. If we've passed over Axis forces in any of the areas we've -checked, then they must have tunneled out from Tripoli, by gosh, and -are still underground. That's crazy, of course, so it leaves us one -more thing to try."</p> - -<p>"Well?" Freddy grunted as Dave paused. "I'm waiting. Let's have it."</p> - -<p>"The Tripoli area," Dave said promptly. "Let's get us some more -altitude and sneak up on Tripoli as closely as we can without being -spotted. If we don't spot anything there, then we can be pretty sure -that the Tripoli rumors are so much hog-wash."</p> - -<p>"I doubt that last," Freddy said gravely. "The High Command must be -pretty sure, rather, dead sure, that something's up, else Fleet Air Arm -Command wouldn't have agreed for the Victory to pull out of line and go -steaming off on its own."</p> - -<p>"Yes, I guess that's true," Dave nodded, and scowled. "But I'm still in -favor of sneaking up on the Tripoli area if we can. And for a couple of -reasons, too."</p> - -<p>"Such as?" the English youth prompted as Dave hesitated.</p> - -<p>"Well, first for a look-see at the area," Dave explained presently. -"Second because it will take us back toward the coast. It was still -pretty dark when we flew in over the coast, and—well, it's just a -guess that the Nazis <i>may</i> be sneaking along the coastline. Maybe -they're not circling down toward the south and up to flank Wavell's -advance forces. Get what I mean?"</p> - -<p>"Instantly!" Freddy exclaimed, and his tired eyes lighted up. "I'm -tipping my topper to you, my lad. Yes, I believe you're right. They -may be sneaking along the coast, just far enough inland to prevent -observation from the sea. Yes, let's head back that way, by all means. -Good grief, anything would be better than this tooting around over -the blasted desert down there. It's like standing in front of a blast -furnace with the door open!"</p> - -<p>"Ten times worse!" Dave muttered, and started banking the Skua around -and up in a climb for altitude. "Boy! I'd sure like to pick the next -spot for Hitler and his big bums to invade. I'd get me a transfer to -duty there so fast it would make your head swim."</p> - -<p>"And where would that be?" Freddy asked.</p> - -<p>"The North Pole," Dave said. "Gee! Nice cool air spilling into the -cockpit. And a—Hey! <i>Freddy!</i>"</p> - -<p>Dave bellowed the last and sat up straight in the seat. The English -youth jumped in alarm and banged his head on one of the cowling braces.</p> - -<p>"Good grief, what?" he choked out. "What's the matter?"</p> - -<p>"Plenty!" Dave snapped back over his shoulder, and at the same time -wheeled the Skua around in a quick turn. "Trouble in six different -packages. To your right and up! Take a look! Busting down out of the -sun. And they aren't sea gulls, either. Buckle your safety strap and -get set, Freddy!"</p> - -<p>The English youth did just that as he jerked his head around and -squinted up toward the sun. He was blinded for a second or so by the -brassy glare, but he performed the well known war pilot's trick that -makes it possible to spot planes sliding down out of the sun. You close -one eye and then hold the thumb of your free hand four or five inches -in front of the eye you keep open. The ball of your thumb covers the -sun and permits you to see planes diving down in its glare. You can't -do it for very long because there is still enough glare to get into -your eyes. However, you can stare in the direction of the sun long -enough to spot what you want to see.</p> - -<p>Anyway, Freddy pulled that sun "eclipsing" stunt and saw the six planes -streaking down toward the Skua. They were just moving blurs at first, -but in a second or so they took on definite shapes and outlines. He -lowered his thumb and eyes and swung to man his rear guns.</p> - -<p>"Three Nazi Henschel reconnaissance jobs!" he shouted at Dave. "And -three Italian Breda Sixty-Fives. How in thunder did they get up there -in the sun?"</p> - -<p>"Don't ask me!" Dave called out, and slid the safety catch off his gun -trigger button. "Maybe they've been up there all the time, and just -now spotted us. I don't know. But, brother, I'm not going to bother -about asking them. Hang on, Freddy! I'm first going to try and give -them the slip. Gee! Running away from Muzzy pilots and Jerry pilots. -But there'll come another day."</p> - -<p>"That's what you think!" Freddy shouted. "It's already here, my lad!"</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_SEVEN" id="CHAPTER_SEVEN">CHAPTER SEVEN</a><br /> - -<small><i>Fate Laughs Last</i></small></h2> - - -<p>Freddy Farmer had not shouted a lie, nor had it been an attempt at a -kidding wise-crack. Even as his words became lost in the roar of the -Pegasus engine, the yammer of <i>Rheinmettal-Borsigs</i>, the German aerial -machine gun, and <i>Breda-Safats</i>, the Italian aerial machine gun, filled -the desert air. Out of the corner of his eye Dave saw tracer bullet -smoke weave downward well clear of the Skua, and a tight grin of relief -came to his lips.</p> - -<p>The attacking planes had had the advantage of surprise, and they had -been able to get in the first shots, but even with those two things in -their favor the enemy pilots has missed badly. That made it instantly -obvious that they were not seasoned air fighters.</p> - -<p>"That's a small break for us, anyway," Dave grunted, and hauled the -Skua up and around in a prop clawing climbing turn. "But there's still -six of them, so this isn't going to be any waltz. Okay, Jerry, let this -give you an idea you weren't invited!"</p> - -<p>As the last left Dave's lips, he ruddered slightly to the left and -pressed his trigger release button. His four Vickers guns cowled into -the wing spat flame and sound, and a German Henschel, in the act of -banking off to twist back and charge downward, was caught square in the -burst of bullets. The Nazi craft seemed to jerk sideways for a split -second. Then almost instantly it continued around and down—and kept -right on going down, leaving behind a long trail of oily black smoke.</p> - -<p>"And then there were five!" Freddy sang out. "Well done, Dave. Uh-uh! -No you don't, my little Italian bambino! I've been waiting for you. Oh, -very much so!"</p> - -<p>Freddy Farmer's rear guns barked out their message of war, and one of -the Italian Bredas was smacked on the wing like a clay pigeon. It acted -as though it had been hit by a couple of battleship salvos instead of -machine gun bullets. Or perhaps it was because the Italian pilot at the -controls went a little bit crazy in his frantic efforts to yank his -plane out of Freddy's deadly fire. At any rate the 870 hp. Gnome-Rhone -fitted Italian Breda went spinning nose over rudder post across the -sky. The violent maneuver was too much for the ship. The monoplane -wings sheared off as though some invisible giant had slashed them off -with a knife. Instantly the wingless fuselage pointed its nose downward -and dropped like a bomb.</p> - -<p>Freddy didn't wait to see if the pilot and gunner were able to bail -out. The two other Henschels had swerved in close by then and were -spraying the Skua with a shower of hissing bullets as Dave slammed the -plane through a full roll and then took advantage of the British ship's -superior speed and power and zoomed straight up at the vertical. The -zoom maneuver completely threw the Henschel pilots off guard, and as -the Skua rocketed upward Freddy swung his guns around and raked one of -the Henschels from prop to tail. The German craft seemed to stop dead -in midair. Then the starboard strut between the right bottom and top -wings buckled in the middle as though hit with a sharp axe. A second -later the two wings folded together. The plane lurched drunkenly off -to that side and then slowly rolled over and down into a spin. That's -the last either of the boys saw of it. There was still one Nazi and two -Italian planes in the air, and the loss of the three other ships seemed -to add to the savage fury of the attack of their pilots and gunners.</p> - -<p>They slashed up toward the zooming Skua with all guns blazing. Dave and -Freddy heard the nickel-jacketed bullets rip and chew their way into -their plane. Twice the Skua seemed to falter, but each time it kept on -going upward. Finally Dave shook his head and kicked the plane over and -down out of its zoom and sent it corkscrewing off to the left.</p> - -<p>"Can't shake those guys!" he shouted back at Freddy. "They must have -hopped up their engines, or something. Anyway, they've got more speed -and power than I figured. We've got to fight it out with them, Freddy. -There's no chance to shake them off."</p> - -<p>"Okay by me!" the English youth shouted back. "Just beginning to enjoy -myself, anyway. Tell you what, Dave! Go after that German beggar. If we -put him out of business I fancy those Italian lads won't hang around -very long."</p> - -<p>"Just the idea I had in mind!" Dave said with a nod. "Mussolini's -pilots are tough on pigeons and maybe crows, but that's about all. -Okay, there's the little Nazi. I'll smack him and force him to turn -off. Then you give him the works as we go by. You know, the old team -work!"</p> - -<p>"Right you are!" Freddy cried, and crouched over his guns. "The old -team work it'll be!"</p> - -<p>Stepping hard on rudder, Dave sticked the Skua up on wing and hauled it -around in a vertical bank to the right. The terrific speed of the turn -caused his eyeballs to start to roll up backwards in their sockets, and -for a split second or so he almost went blind, or had a "black-out," -as the R.A.F. expression terms it. He eased off the speed of the turn, -however, and the pinkish haze that was starting to film his eyes faded -away until he could see clearly again.</p> - -<p>"Hey, no more of that!" came Freddy's warning shout. "You'll have us -blind as bats, maneuvering at such speed. Then we'll be easy pickings -for those lads."</p> - -<p>"Sorry, Freddy!" Dave sang out, and started to drop the nose. "Forgot -for a second I had you along. Won't do it again."</p> - -<p>"Be sure you don't!" Freddy cried. "Okay, Dave, let him have it! I'm -all set for the finishing touches."</p> - -<p>Dave didn't even hear the last. He had hunched forward and was -giving every bit of his attention to the last Nazi Henschel biplane -reconnaissance ship that was banking over and off the top of a power -zoom. The instant it was square in his sights, he jabbed the trigger -release button. He saw his tracers slice into the plane just in back of -the B.M.W. 132 radial engine. Before he could rudder enough to bring -the pilot's cockpit and the observer-gunner's cockpit into his sights, -the German had wheeled to the left and down.</p> - -<p>At perhaps a thousand other times that would have been the perfect -maneuver for the German pilot to make. This time, however, was the -exception. In fact, because of the Skua's terrific diving speed, the -German pilot actually made the worst maneuver possible. Dave simply -held the Skua in its thundering power dive and let Freddy Farmer do the -rest. And the English youth was not asleep. He brought his guns to bear -on the Henschel as they flashed by and practically cut the Nazi ship in -two with his steady, relentless, furious fire. Flame shot out of the -Henschel and leaped up toward the sky. A huge ball of smoke completely -enveloped the plane. When the wind caught the smoke and blew it away, -the Henschel just wasn't there any more. It was simply a shower of -smouldering embers slithering down toward the blazing sands.</p> - -<p>"I thought so, I thought so!" Freddy's wild cry came to Dave's ears. -"There they go! And will you just look at those blasted beggars hop it! -Three cheers for Mussolini and the Italian Air Force!"</p> - -<p>Dave pulled the Skua out of its dive and twisted around to look in -the direction of Freddy's pointed finger. What had been two Italian -Breda Sixty-Fives a few moments before were now just two dots against -the brassy Libyan sky, and becoming smaller and smaller as they moved -swiftly toward the west. Even as Dave watched them, with a scornful -grin of his lips, the two dots faded out of view completely.</p> - -<p>"So now what?" he presently asked Freddy. "Do we head for the Tripoli -area, or do we start drifting northward toward the nearest British -outpost?"</p> - -<p>The English youth didn't answer at once. He leaned forward and looked -over Dave's shoulder at the instrument board. He frowned slightly and -absently fingered the high speed aerial camera fitted to the right side -of his cockpit and pointing downward through a port opening in the -floor of the pit.</p> - -<p>"I see that we've still another hour's flight in the petrol tanks," -he said, looking at Dave. "Another hour before we have to head north -for the Victory rendezvous. If you're asking me, I say let's head for -Tripoli. Let's have a look along the coast, anyway. Hey! What the -dickens are you chuckling at, you funny-looking ape?"</p> - -<p>Dave wiped the grin off his face and looked surprised.</p> - -<p>"Who, me?" he asked innocently.</p> - -<p>"Yes, you!" Freddy said with a nod. "Out with it! What's so funny?"</p> - -<p>Dave chuckled again and pointed at Freddy's hand still fingering the -camera.</p> - -<p>"You," he said. "What a guy! With maybe the fate of the entire Middle -East hanging in the balance, all the lad can think of is taking -pictures!"</p> - -<p>"Rot!" the English youth exploded, but a faint flush seeped into his -cheeks. "But, blast it, that's part of the job we're supposed to do, -isn't it? And we both agreed that was our last chance, didn't we?"</p> - -<p>"Okay, okay, little man!" Dave said, and raised a hand in token of -surrender. "Keep your shirt on, and stop biting my head off. So help -me, I'll find something for you to snap with your precious camera. -I'll—"</p> - -<p>Dave never finished the last. At that moment the Bristol Pegasus engine -in the nose coughed and made a rasping sound that sent cold chills -slicing up and down Dave's spine despite the burning glare of the -desert sun. He locked eyes with Freddy for a brief instant and then -twisted his head front and looked at the instrument board. The answer -showed on the dial of the oil pressure gauge. The needle was swinging -around the dial toward the zero mark like the floor indicator of an -express elevator on the way down to street level.</p> - -<p>"Well, I guess the blighters were darn good shots, at that," he heard -Freddy comment as the engine coughed a couple of times more and then -began to die out in a long metallic sigh.</p> - -<p>An instant later it was as though an invisible little imp hiding under -the engine cowling had stuck the end of a parted oil line through the -instrument board into Dave's cockpit. A spurt of hot black liquid -went streaming out and down past his legs. He jerked his legs aside -in a flash, whipped off the ignition and yanked back the throttle in -practically a continuation of the same movement. Then, as the oil -ceased spurting back into the pit, he sticked the plane down into a -long flat glide and turned to Freddy again.</p> - -<p>"Can I let you off any place, sir?" he asked with a tight, forced grin -on his lips.</p> - -<p>Freddy blinked as though forcing back the tears of bitter defeat and -failure that sprang to his eyes. Then he grinned weakly, and nodded.</p> - -<p>"Why, yes, if you'll be so kind," he said. "On the deck of an aircraft -carrier named Victory. You wouldn't mind?"</p> - -<p>"<i>I</i> wouldn't mind a bit," Dave replied. "But these horses we have -up front don't want to work any more. Seriously, Freddy, what do you -think?"</p> - -<p>"About what?" the English youth asked in an innocent tone.</p> - -<p>Dave scowled at him.</p> - -<p>"Cut it out!" he growled. "You know what I mean. Okay, if you won't -talk, then I will. We've got to destroy this ship, haven't we? Okay. -I say the heck with bailing out and dropping down with all the stuff -we'll need down there in the desert. Also, it may be hard to fire the -ship before we go over the side. Let's land the bus and take our time -selecting the stuff we want to take on the tramp back to—"</p> - -<p>Dave stopped short, swallowed hard, and cast a quick glance down at the -vast expanse of desert sand waiting below to receive them.</p> - -<p>"Stuff we need on the walk back to the nearest British outpost," he -finally finished the sentence. "Well? What do you say?"</p> - -<p>"The same thing," Freddy said, and made his lips smile. "Didn't you -hear me? Besides, I never did like jumping by parachute. Scares the -life out of me, you know."</p> - -<p>Dave looked at the cool, calm expression in the English youth's eyes, -and at the grim set of his jaws.</p> - -<p>"Yeah," he murmured with a chuckle. "I just bet bailing out scares the -pants off you. And probably eating an ice cream soda does the same -thing, you old soldier. Okay, then, we'll take the bus downstairs and -sit down on the sand."</p> - -<p>The two boys smiled at each other, but each could see that there was -no joy in the other's eyes. Instead there was a look of bitterness and -helpless rage that neither could keep from showing through. The one -thing they had feared most had come to pass. Their Skua wasn't of any -more use to them now. They were on their way down into the middle of -a desert wilderness. And after what. Nothing. They had accomplished -nothing during the three hours and some odd minutes that had passed -since taking off from the flight deck of the Victory. For all the good -they had accomplished, for all the enemy information they had obtained, -they might just as well have stayed aboard the carrier.</p> - -<p>It was no use trying to dodge the truth. They had failed in their -mission completely, and now they were on their way down to battle for -their lives against the enemy desert and the enemy sun.</p> - -<p>"Thumbs up, Freddy!" Dave suddenly said in a steady voice. "We're not -admitting defeat yet—no, not by a darn sight."</p> - -<p>"Certainly not!" the English youth echoed. "I've always wanted to see -what it was like in the middle of a desert, anyway. So take me down, my -good man. I want to stretch my legs."</p> - -<p>Dave grinned and winked and then turned front and gave his attention to -flying. He circled the ship around and headed it due north at a gliding -angle that was just a degree or two above the stalling point. Safety -lay to the north, and the farther he could stretch the plane's glide in -that direction the less the number of miles Freddy and he would have to -plod over the desert sands.</p> - -<p>Holding the ship steady, he hunched forward in the seat and stared -hard and long at the uninviting expanse of desert that stretched out -on all sides toward the four horizons. Half a dozen times he thought -he saw dark splotches down on the sand—dots and darkish shapes that -might possibly mark the location of a village, or perhaps even an Axis -(German-Italian) desert outpost. But when he tried to get a better -look, the rays of the sun reflecting upward from the shimmering sand -made his eyes smart and water, and everything to swim around in his -gaze.</p> - -<p>Inch by inch he eased the plane downward as slowly as he dared, -and used every bit of his flying skill to stretch the glide as far -northward as possible. No airplane, however, can remain aloft without -the use of its engine, and the Skua's engine was dead for keeps. And -so after a certain length of time the desert was only a few hundred -feet beneath the wheels he had cranked down out of the wing. At that -low altitude the desert ceased to be flat and smooth as a sheet of ice. -Dave saw that it was very much ridged by sand dunes built up by desert -storms. And he saw also that there actually was considerable shrubbery -about. But of course it was desert growth, and so bleached and whitened -by the hot rays of the sun and the drifting sand that the stuff blended -in perfectly with the sand. Unless you were practically down in it, you -could very easily miss it altogether.</p> - -<p>"Okay, Freddy, hang onto your hat!" Dave shouted as he eased the plane -up out of its gliding angle and prepared to sit down on the sand. "This -is it. Here we go!"</p> - -<p>"Fire away!" came the English youth's reply. "I'm hanging on!"</p> - -<p>For a couple of split seconds the plane hung motionless in the air as -though it were suddenly reluctant to settle. Then it sank down the few -remaining feet, bounced lightly twice, and rolled forward to a gentle -stop. Dave didn't have to bother about applying the wheel brakes. The -wheels sank two or three inches into the sand, and that action served -enough for brakes.</p> - -<p>As soon as the plane came to a full stop, Dave and Freddy started -gathering up what few things they had brought in the event of just such -an emergency as this. They tossed their helmets onto the cockpit floor -and put on the small but very useful army pith helmets. They wiggled -out of their parachute harness, and fastened their precious water -bottles to their belts. They made sure that they had taken out every -bit of the compact emergency rations brought along, and checked to make -sure that they had knives, compass, and their automatics.</p> - -<p>Finally they had everything they needed. Dave started to leg down onto -the sand, but suddenly dropped back in his seat and stared at Freddy -out of miserable eyes.</p> - -<p>"I once saw a man shoot a horse that had broken its leg," he said in -a strained voice. "He was really and truly crying as he pulled the -trigger. I was pretty young at the time, and I couldn't figure out why -he'd shoot the horse if it made him feel so badly. I thought at the -time he must be crazy, and I got scared pink and ran all the way home -without stopping. I know now why he shot that horse, and—and I guess I -sort of know, too, just how he felt."</p> - -<p>Freddy swallowed and nodded silently. Dave impulsively reached out and -touched the cockpit rim with his hand.</p> - -<p>"Sort of like that horse, old girl," he mumbled in a low voice. "We -can't leave you here to fall into enemy hands. So we've got to put you -out of the way—yeah, sort of out of your misery, I guess you could -call it. The desert, and the Nazis, would only do you harm, if they -found you. So—so long."</p> - -<p>"Let's get on with it, Dave," Freddy said after a moment's silence, and -legged out onto the sand.</p> - -<p>Five minutes later the Bristol-powered Blackburn Skua was an inferno of -flame and black smoke that towered high up into the brassy desert sky. -Dave and Freddy were many yards away, heading northward. Not once did -either of them turn their heads to look back at the blazing plane that -the fortunes of war had forced them to destroy and abandon.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_EIGHT" id="CHAPTER_EIGHT">CHAPTER EIGHT</a><br /> - -<small><i>Blazing Sands</i></small></h2> - - -<p>"Well, I've had my fill!" Freddy gasped. "I can jolly well tell you, -I've had my fill."</p> - -<p>The two pilots had been tramping across the sand for a little over -two hours, and Freddy Farmer had suddenly come to a halt and wiped a -bucketful of sand-washed sweat from his face. Dave stopped and looked -at him questioningly.</p> - -<p>"Fill of what?" he asked. "What do you mean, or is the sun getting you?"</p> - -<p>"I said I'd always wanted to see what it was like in the middle of the -desert," the English youth replied with a grimace. "Well, I've had a -look, and I can tell you I'm fed up with it, no end. How far do you -think we'll have to go with this sand walking business, anyway?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, not so far!" Dave said in a cheery voice. "Eight or nine hundred -miles, I guess. Maybe an even thousand."</p> - -<p>Freddy shot him a look of withering scorn.</p> - -<p>"Only that far?" he snapped. "I thought it would be at least a couple -of thousand miles. If what you say is true, we should be there by -sundown, easy. But, no fooling, Dave, I'm done in something awful. I -could sit down and rest for a week."</p> - -<p>"Me, too, Freddy," Dave agreed. "But if we sit down here on the sand -under this sun, we'll be fried to a crisp. Come on, fellow, up and at -'em, huh?"</p> - -<p>"Who said anything about sitting down here?" Freddy said indignantly, -and pointed. "Look over there. Lots of desert bush, and plenty of shade -for both of us. What do you say?"</p> - -<p>Dave scowled and looked in the direction of Freddy's pointed hand. He -himself was also desperately tired, and he knew that to continue on -under the blazing sun would take more out of the two of them than they -could spare. Yet some inner force urged him to go on; to keep Freddy -moving forward. Why, he had not the slightest idea. There was just some -little voice within him that begged, pleaded, and commanded him to keep -on moving northward.</p> - -<p>"They sure look inviting, Freddy," he said in a weary voice as he eyed -the huge clump of thick desert bush about a hundred yards away. "But -I've got a hunch that we should keep going."</p> - -<p>"You and your hunches!" Freddy groaned. "What difference does half an -hour make, I'd like to know? Don't get the idea I'm being a quitter, -Dave. Nothing like that, really. Fact is, I'm trying to be sensible. -We're not trained for this sort of thing. If we bite off too much at -one time, we may pay dearly for our foolishness. Let's rest a bit in -the shade of those bushes, such as it is, and then have another go at -this blasted tramping."</p> - -<p>"Okay," Dave finally relented. "I guess you're right at that. No -sense burning ourselves out this early in the game. Okay, we'll—Hold -everything, Freddy!"</p> - -<p>As Dave shouted the last he put up both hands as a shield for his -aching eyes and peered hard toward the northwest.</p> - -<p>"What is it, Dave?" Freddy cried eagerly. "What do you see?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know," Freddy said slowly. "I'm not sure at all. Take a look -in the direction I'm pointing, Freddy. Call it a mile, or so, over -there. What do you make of that darkish streak over there? Say! That's -a ledge of rock, and covered with desert bushes, or I'm a Chinaman."</p> - -<p>Freddy cupped his own hands to his eyes and strained them in that -direction.</p> - -<p>"You're no Chinaman, Dave!" he cried presently. "That's rock sure -enough. Looks like a plateau split right down through the middle, but -you can't tell in this blasted sun."</p> - -<p>"What do you say we make for it?" Dave said. "If it's what it looks -like, it'll give us more shade than those desert bushes over there. And -the sun is getting close to high noon in that darn sky up there. In an -hour or so your bushes won't be worth a darn. What do you say? Shall we -pull up the old socks and try to reach that place, huh?"</p> - -<p>Freddy sighed and shrugged resignedly.</p> - -<p>"Right you are," he murmured. "But I certainly wish I could learn to -say no now and then to your wild propositions. I'd certainly save a lot -of wear and tear on myself. Right-o, my little hero. Lead the way. I'm -right at your heels. Phew, if these poor blistered feet of mine were -only walking the flight deck of the Victory right now. How wonderful, -how delicious that would be!"</p> - -<p>"Shut up!" Dave growled at him, and started plodding across the -seemingly endless expanse of sand. "You'll have me blubbering like a -kid in a minute."</p> - -<p>A little under an hour later, the two boys had very definitely learned -something else about the Libyan desert, or any other desert, for that -matter. It was that, when you think some spot is a certain number of -miles away from you, you can just multiply your guess by at least six, -and the answer will <i>still be less</i> than the actual distance. The glare -of the sun, the shimmering heat waves rising up from the sand, plus the -flatness of the desert, fool you completely when it comes to judging -distances between two points.</p> - -<p>"This is sure a long mile!" Freddy broke a five minute silence. "Or -have we been walking in circles? My compass says not, but maybe the -heat's got it, too."</p> - -<p>"You and me both!" Dave groaned, and nodded his head. "It's been -looking only a mile away for the last twenty minutes. I'm sorry, -Freddy. I guess the desert is a tricky spot. How're you doing? We've -got to keep going now, you know. If we stop, we're done for."</p> - -<p>Freddy wiped hot hands across his equally hot face. There was not even -the comfort of sweating, now. No sooner did a bead of sweat ooze out on -their bodies than the heat dried it up. From head to foot every square -inch of their skin felt like a piece of bacon in a frying pan that a -good housewife forgot all about before she left for the movies. Even -though they wore desert sun glasses, their eyes felt as though they -were exposed to the direct rays of the brassy ball of fire in the sky. -Each step was an effort, for their leg joints seemed sapped of all body -lubricants. And every now and then, to add to their torture, a little -flurry of wind would spring up as though by magic and hurl a swirling -cloud of hot stinging sand directly into their faces. However, each new -little discomfort that rose up to torture them only served to feed fuel -to the flame of resoluteness and grim determination that burned within -them.</p> - -<p>"Am I right or wrong, pal?" Dave asked when Freddy did not speak.</p> - -<p>"Your turn to shut up!" the English youth grunted. "I'm not quitting -until you do, my American friend. Matter of fact, though, I think the -blasted spot does seem a bit closer."</p> - -<p>"Me, too," Dave cried, and increased the pace. "Come on, Freddy. The -old whirlwind finish. Yes, it <i>is</i> closer. I'd say only about—"</p> - -<p>"Don't say it!" Freddy begged. "Let's stop guessing and not break our -hearts. Let's just walk. What's the matter? Can't you go faster than -that?"</p> - -<p>Dave grinned happily as the English youth increased his stride and went -sailing into the lead. Just like old Freddy Farmer. Groans and gripes -a bit, and then before you know it he's making you look like the one -who's groaning and griping.</p> - -<p>"Tough guy, huh?" Dave chuckled, and drew up on a level with Freddy's -shoulder. "Maybe you want to sprint the rest of the way? Well, skip it, -pal. This pace is fast enough for me. Boy! Only a couple of minutes -more. And look, Freddy! It's like a regular cliff. Two cliffs, with a -valley in between. Gosh! What do you know! A canyon cut into this darn -flat desert."</p> - -<p>"Think again, Dave," Freddy said with a smile. "Better still, turn -around and take a look. I did. We've really been walking uphill, to the -top of a plateau formation of ground. Those cliffs are the two sides of -a crack that time has made in the plateau formation of ground. Just as -unexplainable as why you suddenly come across an oasis with water and -palm trees in the middle of a barren desert."</p> - -<p>At Freddy's suggestion Dave turned around and looked back in the -direction whence they had come. It was then he realized the truth -of the English youth's words. Instead of standing on a flat, almost -shapeless desert, they were actually standing near the crest of a long -sloping hill. True, the slope was marked by countless sand dunes kicked -up by the desert winds, but it was still easy to see that they were -a good couple of hundred feet higher than they had been when they'd -started out. To make sure it all wasn't just a trick his eyes and the -desert sun were playing on him, he turned front again and looked at -the brownish slash that marked the split in the plateau and formed the -escarpment. The brownish slash in the desert was the highest piece of -ground before his eyes. Beyond, he could see only Libyan sky and the -brassy glare of the sun. That was so because he was actually looking -uphill.</p> - -<p>"Well, what do you know!" he exclaimed, and grinned at Freddy. "No -wonder my legs feel ready to drop off. We've been plowing uphill and -didn't know it."</p> - -<p>"The desert is full of tricks," the English youth said with a shrug. -"And all of them mean ones, too. Well, let's get on with it. Won't be -long now."</p> - -<p>It turned out to be longer than that, however. Another twenty minutes -passed by into time history before they reached the top of the -escarpment and stood looking down its side. The canyon was about -seventy-five yards long, perhaps thirty-five feet deep, and a hundred -feet wide at the top. The two sides were formed of jagged rock with -treacherous spots of crumpling sand-stone here and there. There was -plenty of brush and shrubbery about, however, and it was thick enough -to cast patches of shade regardless of the burning rays of the sun. One -point struck them at once as being an ideal spot where they could relax -and rest until the sun was deep in the west, and the cooling winds of -night were beginning to steal across the desert. It was to their left -and about halfway down. A shelf of rock jutted outward a bit. As a -matter of fact, it was really two shelves of rock that jutted out. The -bottom one served as a platform upon which to rest. And the top shelf, -rimmed with thick desert bush, served as a roof, a sort of canopy for -the shelf lower down. Fortunately the side of the escarpment was not -too steep to make it impossible for them to reach the lower shelf.</p> - -<p>"That's us, Freddy!" Dave exclaimed, and pointed to it. "We'll get down -there and be cliff dwellers until it's cool enough to start getting -underway again. I vote that we get down there pronto, and have a bit to -eat and a little water. That's our biggest danger—water. We must save -every drop we can. Who knows when—"</p> - -<p>Dave stopped short, and a horrified look leaped into his eyes. He -pointed his finger at Freddy and worked his mouth, but no words came -from his lips. The English youth stared at him and impulsively -recoiled a step in surprise and amazement.</p> - -<p>"Dave, what's the matter?" he gasped out. "Dave! Come out of it! What -in the world?"</p> - -<p>Dave gulped and shook his head as though to snap himself out of his -stunned trance.</p> - -<p>"Your water bottle, Freddy!" he blurted out. "Look! It's leaking! The -canvas cover is dripping wet at the bottom. When did you do that?"</p> - -<p>The English youth didn't bother to reply. He reached down and took hold -of the canvas-covered water canteen slung at his belt. The bottom half -was dripping wet, though the burning rays of the sun were doing their -best to drink up every drop of moisture. As Freddy tilted it bottom -side up, both boys saw the tiny slash in the canvas covering and the -even smaller crack in the metal underneath.</p> - -<p>"I can tell by the weight," Freddy said in a tight, strained voice. -"There's no more than a cupful left. Talk about luck! Blast it!"</p> - -<p>Dave nodded and said nothing. There was no mystery as to how the canvas -had been slashed and the metal canteen split so that the precious water -had seeped out a drop at a time as Freddy plodded across the sands. It -was obvious that a made-in-Germany bullet, or a made-in-Italy bullet -had done the work. A stray bullet, a bullet in a thousand during that -air scrap had cut through into the Skua's cockpit and nicked the bottom -of Freddy's water canteen. It had creased the metal, but not enough to -leave an opening through which the water could escape. No, it hadn't -cut all the way through, but later the bumping of the canteen against -Freddy's leg as he trudged across the sand had caused the paper thin -layer of metal left to part and crack and allow the water to seep -through.</p> - -<p>"Blast the Jerry or Muzzy gunner who did that!" Freddy grated through -clenched teeth.</p> - -<p>"I'm hoping it was one of them we got!" Dave grunted. "Well, my water -canteen's still okay. We'll just have to go extra easy with the -drinking. It's not your fault, anyway. Let's forget it and get down -there. I'm beginning to feel more like a grease spot every second. -We'll split what's in your canteen for our first drink, and then take -turns at mine, later. Come on. And hold that canteen bottom side up as -you climb down."</p> - -<p>"Have no fear of that!" the English youth said grimly. "It would have -to be my <i>water canteen</i>, wouldn't it! It couldn't be my leg, or an -arm, or maybe my neck."</p> - -<p>Dave laughed and slapped him on the back.</p> - -<p>"Chin and thumbs up, pal!" he cried. "Forget it! We'll just make -believe we're a couple of camels. They go for days without water, you -know."</p> - -<p>"Oh, quite!" Freddy grunted. "But who wants to be a blinking camel? -However, right you are. Let's get out of this sun, anyway."</p> - -<p>Ten minutes later the two boys had safely reached the shelter of the -lower ledge of rock. It wasn't cool and comfortable, by any manner of -means. As a matter of fact, it was something like squatting down on -the top of a stove that hasn't been out for very long. Regardless of -that, however, it was like an icebox compared to the direct rays of the -blistering sun above, and the blistering heat of the shifting sands -beneath their feet.</p> - -<p>"Boy, oh boy!" Dave sighed wearily. "The first thing I'm going to do is -get off these shoes. What I wouldn't give for the Kind Fairy to wave -her magic wand and create a nice, cool babbling brook to dip these dogs -in. Gosh! I—"</p> - -<p>"Hold still, Dave!" Freddy suddenly cried. "Hold still! Don't move a -muscle!"</p> - -<p>Dave, in the act of putting his hands in back of him to serve as a -brace while he arched his body backwards, froze motionless and look -wild-eyed at Freddy.</p> - -<p>"What's the matter?" he asked in a hoarse whisper.</p> - -<p>Freddy didn't reply. He simply shook his head, and picked up one of -his shoes he had taken off. He gripped it by the toe and leaned slowly -around in back of Dave. Then in a sudden movement he cracked the heel -of the shoe down on the rock with a resounding smack.</p> - -<p>"There!" he breathed, straightening up. "That takes care of that little -beggar."</p> - -<p>"Hey, what gives, anyway?" Dave gulped and frowned. "You playing games -or something?"</p> - -<p>"Hardly!" Freddy said dryly. "I was simply saving you a lot of pain, -and perhaps something worse than that. Take a look."</p> - -<p>Dave twisted around, half expecting to see a squad of Nazi soldiers -crouching behind him. What he really saw was the mashed body of a -three-inch long lizzard-like creature. It looked like a cross between -a lizzard and a grasshopper, and there was a suggestion of a lobster -about it, too. The body was long and tapering, like that of a lizzard. -At the head two tiny horns with lobster-like claws at the end stuck out -in front. And there were four long legs on either side of the body.</p> - -<p>"Gosh, what's that?" he asked. "Some kind of a desert bug?"</p> - -<p>"The worst you can meet in the desert," Freddy replied. "It's a -scorpion. See that barbed point that forms the end of his tail? That's -his stinger. You can see it's sort of hook shaped. Well, he strikes -with it by whipping it up over his back. Five minutes after a scorpion -stings you, you're in horrible pain, and your whole body begins to -swell up. It can easily be fatal unless you get medical attention at -once. You were about to put your hand right down on top of it, my -friend."</p> - -<p>Dave's face paled, and he shuddered violently.</p> - -<p>"Gee!" he breathed in an awed tone. "Gee whiz! Remind me to remember -you in my will, Freddy. Gosh! The enemy is just a small part of what -you have to fight in desert warfare, I'll say. Boy, oh boy, Freddy, -you're my pal for life, and no fooling. Wow."</p> - -<p>"I was just lucky enough to spot it in time," Freddy said. Then, -getting to his feet, "I think, though, we'd better search this place to -see if it has any brothers or sister hanging around. In case I do fall -asleep, I'd hate to wake up with one of the beggars sitting on my nose."</p> - -<p>"Sleep?" echoed Dave, as they started searching the shelf of rock, and -gripped a shoe ready for action. "I won't do any sleeping. After that -close call I'll have the jitters for a week."</p> - -<p>Freddy just grinned and said nothing. The search took about fifteen -minutes, but no brother or sister scorpions were found lurking about -ready to avenge a death in the family. So presently they relaxed again, -ate some of their emergency rations, and each drank half of the water -left in Freddy's bullet-creased canteen.</p> - -<p>"Well, that sure helped," Dave said, leaning back against the shelf -wall. "I'm beginning to feel like a new man already. Now, if that sun -will only slide into high gear and get across that sky, everything will -be jake."</p> - -<p>"Don't hurry the sun," Freddy murmured, and stretched out. "I'm -perfectly comfortable right here. It can take as long as it likes. But -it's a bit of a mess, isn't it, Dave? We sure let the Victory down."</p> - -<p>"Yeah," Dave grunted, and felt his eyelids growing strangely heavy. "We -sure turned out to be just a couple of foul balls. But we're not licked -yet. We've got our strength, something to eat, and some water. Maybe -when it gets a bit—gets a bit—a bit cooler—"</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_NINE" id="CHAPTER_NINE">CHAPTER NINE</a><br /> - -<small><i>Wings From Tripoli</i></small></h2> - - -<p>A faint buzzing sound penetrating Dave's ears pried his eyelids open. -For a second or two he stared bewildered at Freddy Farmer's motionless -body a couple of feet from him, at the shelf of rock upon which he -found himself, and out across a short rocky valley to a wall of jagged -rock studded with sun-scorched brush on the other side. Then, like a -door in his brain being opened, memory rushed back. Sure, of course! -He had dropped off to sleep in spite of his jitters from the deadly -scorpion episode. And a funny buzzing sound had awakened him.</p> - -<p>He remained perfectly still for another moment, his ears strained and -listening intently to the buzzing sound. At the end of that moment he -realized what it was. Not a bee, or a hornet, or anything like that. -The sound came from the engine of an airplane high overhead. He got to -his feet and walked over to the edge of the rock shelf where he could -stare up into the sky. It was then he realized that he hadn't had any -cat-nap. The sun was well down toward the western lip of the desert and -the sky was slowly being painted with streaks of gold, and red, and -purple blue. An impulsive glance at his watch showed that his little -refresher nap had lasted a good six hours and some odd minutes.</p> - -<p>Because of the altitude of the plane, and the countless ever changing -streaks of color in the sky, it was some time before he could pick it -out. When he did, there was no way of telling whether it was friend or -foe up there. The plane was just a dot moving swiftly toward the west. -One thing was certain. It wasn't a Nazi plane. He could tell that from -the steady unthrobbing note of the engine. It was either Italian or -British. The direction of the plane's flight, the fact that he could -tell it was a small single-engined job, and the fact that night was not -very far away, gave him the belief that it must be Italian. A moment -later the engine's note died off a little, and he saw the dot start -sliding downward.</p> - -<p>"What's that, Dave? Company?"</p> - -<p>Dave looked around at the sound of Freddy's voice. The English youth -was digging groggy sleep out of his eyes and getting slowly to his -feet. He came over to the edge of the rock shelf, shielded his eyes -with his hands and squinted up into the sky.</p> - -<p>"An Italian, or one of ours," he said after a moment's study. "I doubt -it's one of ours, though. I say, look! The beggar is banking around and -coming back this way. Good grief, do you suppose he's spotted us?"</p> - -<p>"From that altitude?" Dave grunted, and watched the dot swing down -lower and curve around in their direction. "Not a chance. But he's -heading back here, sure enough. There! He's flattened out of his glide. -And there's his engine hitting on all six again."</p> - -<p>It was true. Even as the two boys watched, the still very indistinct -plane seemed to level off, and the sound of its engine increased. -Impulsively they both backed up a couple of steps and stood there -silently watching the plane come closer and closer. Presently it was -close enough to take on definite shape and outline. It was an Italian -Fiat C.R. 42 fighter plane powered by a Fiat radial engine; a biplane -type that had been used extensively by Mussolini's air force since the -very start of the African campaign. They had proved no match, however, -for even the slowest planes General Wavell used, and little by little -it had become harder and harder to find one in the air. Their pilots -had no stomach to stray close to R.A.F. controlled air.</p> - -<p>The two boys had been acquainted with the facts about the Fiat C.R. 42, -and so their interest and wonder increased as soon as they noted its -type.</p> - -<p>"Now what would that lad be doing way out here?" Freddy murmured aloud. -"Of course he isn't near where our flying chaps might possibly be, but -the fact the blighter's actually alone certainly looks queer."</p> - -<p>"Yeah, if what they told us about those jobs is true," Dave grunted, -and scowled at the oncoming plane. "Hey, I wonder! Could that bird be -on reconnaissance patrol, or even contact patrol? Look at the way he's -zigzagging. He's even losing some altitude. Freddy, that guy's looking -for something as sure as you're a foot high!"</p> - -<p>"Maybe the crashes of the four planes we shot down," Freddy suggested. -"Perhaps that ship was sent out to confirm the results of the scrap, to -drop food and water to any of those Nazi or Italian lads who may have -survived the crashes."</p> - -<p>"Could be," Dave nodded, and continued to scowl at the plane. "But they -sure gave him the wrong location bearings. He's 'way too far north. -No, I think that idea is out, Freddy. That bird's on the look-see for -something else. He's—Hey! See there? He's found what he was hunting -for. Look! He's veered to the north a bit and he's going down in a long -power dive."</p> - -<p>Dave gave a final look at the plane, then looked across the desert -canyon toward the other side. The opposite wall was too high for him to -see over it and the stretch of desert beyond. From the glide angle and -direction of the Italian plane, he knew that it was going to pass low -over some point well beyond the northern slope of the desert plateau. -He half turned and touched Freddy on the arm.</p> - -<p>"He's got business some place over there where we can't see," he said. -"Get on your shoes, and collect your stuff. We're going to the other -side of this plateau crack and see what the heck is what."</p> - -<p>"You took the words right out of my mouth," Freddy said, and started -putting on his shoes.</p> - -<p>Going down that side of the escarpment, crossing the valley floor and -scrambling up the other side was no easy task. Bush thorns caught at -their uniforms, and jagged points of rock inflicted more than a couple -of bruises on their bodies. They sacrificed body safety for speed, -however, and presently they were flat on their stomachs on the top of -the other escarpment and peering ahead at the dune-humped stretches of -sun-painted sand.</p> - -<p>The Italian plane was now down very low. It wasn't more than three or -four hundred feet above the surface of the sand. It was a good five -miles away from them, however—much, much too far for them to make out -the pilot seated in the pit. Breathlessly they watched the plane nose -down even lower. Then suddenly Dave let out a startled cry and nudged -Freddy with his elbow.</p> - -<p>"Look!" he cried. "He's dumped something over the side. Looked like -some kind of a box to me. Did you see it?"</p> - -<p>"I saw it," Freddy replied in a voice reverberating with excitement. -"And I see something else, too, to the left of where that box-shaped -thing appeared to hit the ground. Look hard, Dave. See those—those -little humps? They look like little sand dunes, but I'll bet anything -they're not."</p> - -<p>"No bet!" Dave breathed after a long moment of silence. "Freddy, -there's something very screwy going on. Those humps are little shacks, -or huts. So help me, that's a village over there. Yet darned if I can -spot a single palm tree."</p> - -<p>"And there's somebody there!" Freddy whispered tensely. "There must -be, or that plane's pilot wouldn't be dumping anything over the side. -Look! He's climbing now, and heading back where he came from. Dave, -we're the luckiest two chaps in all Libya right now."</p> - -<p>"Maybe," Dave admitted grudgingly. Then, giving him a keen look, "What -makes you say it?"</p> - -<p>Freddy didn't answer at once. He chewed on his lower lip and kept his -eyes fixed on the distant scene.</p> - -<p>"Do you think you could spot those humps from say five or ten thousand -feet in the air?" he suddenly asked.</p> - -<p>"Five or ten thousand?" Dave echoed with a laugh. "Unless I knew they -were there, like that Italian bird must have known, I would probably -sail right over them at five hundred feet, and not know the difference."</p> - -<p>"Right!" Freddy replied instantly. "Now, answer me this one. Why would -an Italian pilot be dumping something overboard on a spot you could -miss at even five hundred feet, eh?"</p> - -<p>"I give up," Dave said after a moment's thought. "What is this, anyway? -Some kind of a game you've just thought up?"</p> - -<p>"Use that stuff in your noggin you call brains!" Freddy said sharply. -"Use it, Dave! Think hard. I may be completely off my base, but I think -I now know why we didn't spot anything of interest during our patrol. -Certain parties took care so that neither we nor anybody else should -spot anything. Now, does that give you a little idea?"</p> - -<p>"For cat's sake, you're talking in riddles!" Dave growled. "How do you -know why we didn't—"</p> - -<p>Dave suddenly cut himself short and clapped a hand to his forehead.</p> - -<p>"Well, fry me for an oyster!" he breathed fiercely. "Yeah, I think I -begin to see the light. That, Freddy, is an enemy desert outpost, and -so perfectly camouflaged that you'd never spot it from the air, unless -you knew exactly where it was located."</p> - -<p>"Absolutely correct," Freddy said. "You may go to the head of the -class, my little man. But wait a minute. One more question."</p> - -<p>"Boy, how you wear a guy down!" Dave said, and sighed. "Okay, dear -teacher, shoot."</p> - -<p>Freddy nodded his head toward the odd-looking cluster of humps in the -desert.</p> - -<p>"Why do you suppose that plane didn't land?" he asked.</p> - -<p>Dave gave him a startled glance and shook his head at the same time.</p> - -<p>"I give up," he said. "I haven't the faintest idea. But you always were -the military expert on this team, so tell me. Why?"</p> - -<p>"It's just a guess, of course," the English youth said, after a long -pause. "Maybe a crazy one, too. Somehow, though, I have the feeling -that the Nazis or the Italians over there are taking no chances on -being spotted by any possible British plane out on long distance -reconnaissance. Now, if one of our ships were way up there in the sky -somewhere, he wouldn't give a thought to seeing an Italian plane swoop -down low like that chap we just saw. However, he would prick up his -ears if he saw the plane land. He'd at least get curious enough to -slide down himself to see if it was only a forced landing. Therefore I -think that Italian pilot had orders not to land; to drop whatever he -had to deliver, and not deliver it by hand. Are you getting a little -bit of what I mean, now?"</p> - -<p>Dave nodded and stared intently at his English pal. Count on good old -Freddy Farmer to dig down and ferret around for the true meaning of -everything that appeared strange and mysterious. He had a mind like a -steel trap, and more than once his mental ferreting around ahead of -time had helped them out of a tight corner later.</p> - -<p>"Yes, I'm beginning to catch on," Dave said presently. "In fact, I'm -getting a couple of ideas of my own. I don't know what that Italian -pilot dropped, but it certainly wasn't food, and it wasn't ammunition. -The box, or whatever it was, wasn't big enough."</p> - -<p>"And so?" Freddy echoed as Dave hesitated and scowled off into space.</p> - -<p>"And so maybe that's no ordinary desert outpost," Dave finally said. -"Maybe there are important people there—I mean, important military -people. Do you know something, Freddy?"</p> - -<p>"'Way ahead of you, Dave, as you would say," Freddy interrupted with a -grin. "Important military people means staff headquarters. Yes, we're -probably crazy, Dave. Both of us may be completely out of our heads, -but I'll bet you the Bank of England against your oldest pair of flying -boots that that spot over there is some kind of field headquarters for -enemy troops in this area of the desert."</p> - -<p>"Enemy troops in this area?" Dave echoed, and gave a wave of his hand -that included the surrounding desert. "Troops where? You mean the force -that's right over there where we're looking, don't you?"</p> - -<p>Freddy shook his head and gave a stubborn tilt to his chin.</p> - -<p>"No, I don't," he said. "I mean that that's the headquarters base for -a <i>lot</i> of spots in this section just like it, only we haven't seen -them. And, by good luck, we didn't stumble into them since leaving our -burned up Skua."</p> - -<p>Dave started to nod, then checked himself and gave Freddy a perplexed -look.</p> - -<p>"Don't look right now," he said, "but you're getting me all balled up, -my friend. Just what are you driving at, anyway? Come clean with the -works; then maybe I'll argue with you."</p> - -<p>"It's quite simple," the English youth said with a faint smile. "You -just mix a little imagination with what facts you know, and there you -are."</p> - -<p>"Maybe you are, but I'm not!" Dave grunted. "Skip the imagination part -and just give me the facts."</p> - -<p>"Right you are," Freddy said, and started counting off the fingers of -one hand. "First, British Middle East High Command knows that troops, -planes, and supplies, and so forth, have been transported across the -Mediterranean to Tripoli by air and water. Two, High Command knows -that it is mostly Nazi stuff. Three, it is obvious that preparations -are being made for a drive to beat back Wavell's forces. Four, it is -equally obvious that the enemy knows that Wavell's forces are not very -strong. As Group Captain Spencer said, everything that could be spared -was yanked away and sent down south to hand the Italians a quick mop-up -knockout blow in Ethiopia. Five, the one important thing in desert -warfare is surprise—surprise attack. Six, if the Axis forces simply -started along the main coast road from Tripoli and around the southern -end of the Gulf of Sidra, Wavell's outposts, to say nothing of his -planes, would spot them long before they were within attacking range, -and there would be no surprise at all. You want me to continue?"</p> - -<p>"Sure, stay in there and pitch," Dave nodded with a grin. "I know -you've got something, kid, and I want to hear it all. I really mean -that."</p> - -<p>"Very well, then," Freddy said, and started counting his fingers over -again. "Seven, to move a huge attacking army down toward the south and -back up toward the north would be much too exhausting for the troops, -and such an army would be spotted by Wavell's pilots days ahead of -time. R.A.F. bombers would then sail out and bomb the stuffing out of -the advancing armies."</p> - -<p>"Just a minute," Dave cut in. "They wouldn't be dumb enough not to have -air protection of their own."</p> - -<p>"Correct," Freddy said, and made a little gesture with one hand. -"But where would that air protection base itself in this part of the -desert? Certainly not with the armies as they moved forward a few -miles each day. At Tripoli? And keep flying way out here to guard -troops and tanks and other motorized equipment on the move? Not a bit -of it, Dave. They might just as well send General Wavell a letter -telling him they were creeping up for a surprise attack! They'd—"</p> - -<p>"Hold it, hold it!" Dave suddenly broke in excitedly. "You gave me the -tip just now. Creeping up. That's it! Creeping up in <i>small units</i> -until they get close enough to strike at some point in Wavell's -defenses in a main body. Sure, sure, my imagination's beginning to work -too! Small units that can camouflage themselves perfectly so as not -to be seen by any of our planes that might pass over. And then when -they're all close enough, and all set, the bombers and stuff can wing -along the coast from Tripoli and take their part in the attack. Gosh, -Freddy, I'll bet that you've hit the old nail right smack on the head. -We've stumbled onto the hottest thing in Libya. And I don't mean the -sun or the sand, either!"</p> - -<p>"I'm sure of it!" Freddy said, and beamed happily. "And here's -something else. The small units move only <i>during the night</i>. And -before dawn they dig in and camouflage themselves so they won't be -seen during the day."</p> - -<p>"Yeah, like a tribe of Indians sneaking up on a frontier village in the -old days back in the States," Dave breathed. "And—"</p> - -<p>"Dave, that's exactly the idea!" Freddy suddenly cried, and gripped him -by the arm. "Take a good look, now! I see things moving over there. Am -I right, or are my eyes just going haywire?"</p> - -<p>The setting sun was now quite low, and the long shafts of orange gold -light that stretched across the desert made it extremely difficult to -distinguish individual objects, or even movement, at any distance over -a mile. The rays of the setting sun cutting through the shimmering -waves of heat rising up off the hot sand made everything seem to blend -into one huge picture of shadows and various shades of color. After -a few moments of intense scrutiny, however, Dave was ready to agree -with Freddy's belief. Unquestionably things were moving over there. -Many things, in fact, and of all shapes and sizes. He continued to -stare hard, and then suddenly the faint echo of engines coming to life -drifted down the desert wind. He felt, rather than saw, Freddy stiffen -at his side. And a moment later the English youth's excited voice came -to his ears.</p> - -<p>"Dave! Dave, do you hear that? Those are tank engines, and armored car -engines! See? They're starting to take off the camouflage coverings. -They're getting ready to move, Dave, just as soon as it gets dark."</p> - -<p>"Right!" Dave echoed. "And that means us. We're going to get on the -move, too."</p> - -<p>"What do you mean?" Freddy asked without turning his head.</p> - -<p>"We're going to get close for a good look," Dave replied, and rose up -onto his hands and knees. "I don't think they'll pull out until it's -actually dark. By then we can sneak up close to them and see what's -what. You know, Freddy, I've a hunch there are the answers to a lot of -questions over there. And if we get up close enough, maybe we can find -out a few of those answers. Anyway, we can't stick here forever."</p> - -<p>"No, of course we can't," the English youth agreed, and got up onto his -feet. "Our bad luck seems to have turned into good luck, so we'd better -make the most of it. Come on. Wait, let's see."</p> - -<p>Freddy pulled out his compass and held it steady in one hand. He peered -at it intently for a moment.</p> - -<p>"Right-o," he said presently. "If we hold a course fourteen points east -of north we'll be traveling a straight line toward that spot. As soon -as we get down off this escarpment we won't be able to see the spot all -the time. But this compass will take care of that. Right-o. Let's get -started."</p> - -<p>"Hey, hold everything!" Dave cried, and held Freddy back. "A fine -Indian scout, you are! And have you forgotten everything you learned -about aerial combat, huh?"</p> - -<p>Freddy stared at him in wide-eyed amazement.</p> - -<p>"What in the world is eating you, Dave?" he gasped. "Aerial combat?"</p> - -<p>"Sure," Dave said with a nod. "What's the best way to sneak up on an -enemy ship for a surprise attack?"</p> - -<p>"Come down on him with the sun at your back, so it's extra hard for him -to see you," Freddy replied promptly. "So what of it?"</p> - -<p>"Plenty," Dave said, and pointed to the west. "The same idea holds good -right here. We'll circle around to the west for a spell, and then creep -up on them with the setting sun at our backs. That way we can get much -closer. Less chance of anybody spotting us. Right?"</p> - -<p>Freddy grinned a bit sheepishly and nodded.</p> - -<p>"The young man is right," he said. "He's absolutely correct. My -apologies and congratulations, sir."</p> - -<p>"Oh, think nothing of it, my dear fellow," Dave said with a magnanimous -gesture. "Think nothing of it at all."</p> - -<p>"As Dave Dawson would say," Freddy grunted as they started down the -escarpment, "nuts to you!"</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_TEN" id="CHAPTER_TEN">CHAPTER TEN</a><br /> - -<small><i>Courage Against Fate</i></small></h2> - - -<p>By the time the sun was a ball of flaming color that rested lightly -on the western lip of the world, the two youths had detoured around -to a point less than half a mile from the spot where they had seen -mysterious activity. Now, though, it was no longer a mystery. Lying -side by side on the western side of a rolling sand dune, they peered -over its crest at a scene that caused their hearts to pound in wild -excitement and the blood to surge through their veins.</p> - -<p>There, less than half a mile away, were two enemy motorized units -preparing to break camp and continue their obvious march northward -under the cover of the Libyan night. There were at least twenty tanks -of the small, light armored German type. There were also as many troop -truck transports, and four or five armored cars. One good look at those -armored cars confirmed their earlier beliefs. High ranking officers of -the Axis forces were in charge of those attack units, and it was quite -evident that the mobile force served as headquarters for other units -scattered about the desert area.</p> - -<p>If either of them held any doubts as to the truth of that, such doubts -were dispelled some ten minutes later. As though by magic, a plane -seemed to rise up out of the camp. It was a German Messerschmitt 109 -single seater, and no sooner had it cleared the sand than it wheeled -toward the northwest and streaked away with the speed of a bullet. It -was not the plane itself that confirmed their belief, however. It was -the German Staff markings they saw painted on the fuselage of the fleet -plane as it raced by.</p> - -<p>"Boy!" Dave breathed, and grinned at Freddy. "Talk about finding the -old needle in a haystack! Lady Luck sure is giving us the glad smile."</p> - -<p>"Sure, whatever that means," Freddy commented with a frown. "You and -your American slang!"</p> - -<p>Dave laughed.</p> - -<p>"Slang, my eye," he chuckled. "I simply mean that out of all the enemy -units that are probably hiding out here on the desert, we spot the -headquarters unit right off the bat. See? Like finding a needle in a -haystack first time."</p> - -<p>"That's headquarters over there, right enough," Freddy murmured. "Ten -to one that Messerschmitt is winging back to Tripoli to inform them of -the new positions they will take up before dawn."</p> - -<p>"And ten to one that ship will be back and nicely camouflaged with the -rest of the stuff by dawn, too," Dave grunted. "Much as the Germans and -the Mussies give me a pain in the neck, I have to hand it to them for -being tops when it comes to camouflaging technique. You could fly over -this desert until you were blue in the face and not even spot a thing -that didn't look like just ordinary desert."</p> - -<p>"They certainly know how," Freddy admitted grudgingly. "But let's grant -them that and get our heads to working on more important things right -now. In an hour at the most they'll be under way. What shall we do? Tag -along behind them—or what?"</p> - -<p>Dave scooped up a handful of sand and let it slowly trickle between his -fingers as he silently considered the question.</p> - -<p>"I think that idea's out, Freddy," he said after a while. "For one -thing, tanks and armored cars don't travel at a snail's pace, not on a -flat desert and in the middle of the night. Another thing, even if we -did manage to keep up with them somehow, we'd be dead on our feet by -dawn. And we'd be faced with the possibility of spending all tomorrow -in the sun. There might not be any spot where there was shade."</p> - -<p>"I know," Freddy murmured in a worried voice. "And tough as we think we -are, that would be too much for us."</p> - -<p>"Check," Dave said. "But supposing we could take it somehow. So what? -So we wouldn't be any better off than we are right now. What we've got -to do is get into that camp and find out things, then get out and get -word to the British High Command what the Germans and Italians are up -to. That's the problem—two problems, they really are."</p> - -<p>"And mighty ticklish ones, too," Freddy said with a sudden show of -gloomy depression. "What do you think of the idea of trying to sneak in -there and have a quick look around? We might find out something."</p> - -<p>"And we <i>might</i> find a couple of Mauser rifle bullets heading our way, -too!" Dave said with a shake of his head. "If they were camped there -for keeps that might be a worthwhile bet. But they're getting ready to -move, and they'd only need one look at our uniforms to know darned well -we didn't belong. Even the dumbest Italian over there would figure that -out."</p> - -<p>"But after it gets dark, couldn't we—" Freddy began, and then stopped -himself with a negative shake of his head. "No, I guess not."</p> - -<p>"Nix is right," Dave said. "After it gets dark they'll all be in their -tanks and trucks and armored cars, and on their way. Nope, even pulling -the old hitch-hiking stunt wouldn't get us a thing."</p> - -<p>Freddy Farmer started to speak, then seemed to change his mind. He -closed his mouth and scowled unhappily at the fingers of his two hands -digging in the sand. Dave watched him for a moment, then reached over -and touched him on the shoulder.</p> - -<p>"There is a way, if you're game, Freddy," he said softly.</p> - -<p>"I'm jolly well game for anything!" the English youth came right back. -"You know that, Dave. What's your plan?"</p> - -<p>"We could make them take us prisoners," Dave said.</p> - -<p>Freddy's jaw dropped in utter amazement, and his eyes bulged out like -marbles on long sticks.</p> - -<p>"Make them take us prisoners?" he choked out. "Give up? Are you mad, -Dave?"</p> - -<p>"No, just maybe a little screwy," Dave replied. "Pin back your ears for -a couple of seconds, and listen. If we try to sneak up on them, we run -the risk of being shot first, and questioned afterwards. That wouldn't -do either of us any good. If we try to tag along behind them as they -move northward, who knows what kind of trouble we might run into. So -what's left? To go along with them—as their guests. See what I mean?"</p> - -<p>"I don't even begin to see," Freddy replied with a befuddled groan. -"Frankly, I don't fancy those chaps over there are in the mood to have -guests. In fact, I doubt very much they would consider us as guests."</p> - -<p>"Oh, I just said 'guests' for the heck of it!" Dave snorted. "Look! -Here's exactly what I mean. You and I will be a couple of British -infantry officers hopelessly lost in the desert. And, boy, that's -doggone close to the truth, and how! Anyway, we have been wandering -around for we don't know how long. We've lost track of time, see? Maybe -the sun has got us a bit. We have just a few drops of water left in -one canteen, see? Our uniforms are torn, and all our food has gone. We -simply stumble right into that camp over there while it is still light, -and they can see us and <i>not take pot shots</i>. Beginning to catch on?"</p> - -<p>The light of hope had come back into Freddy Farmer's eyes, but he was -still a bit befuddled.</p> - -<p>"I think so," he said. "You mean, bury our stuff here, and tear our -uniforms, and all that sort of thing?"</p> - -<p>"Right on the button!" Dave nodded eagerly. "We happened to see their -camp. When we get close enough we'll start yelling to attract their -attention. We'll—Hold it! I've got an even brighter idea!"</p> - -<p>"What is it?" Freddy demanded. "I'm sure it can't be any crazier than -the one you've already told me."</p> - -<p>Dave reached over and gave him a playful punch on the shoulder.</p> - -<p>"It's a pip!" he cried. "We think we've finally found a small -detachment of our own forces, see? We don't realize they're the enemy -until they've captured us. That will start them spinning."</p> - -<p>"Spinning?" Freddy echoed.</p> - -<p>"Sure!" Dave nodded. "It'll start them playing guessing games with -themselves. They'll start wondering if they really are alone out here, -as they thought they were. They'll wonder just where we came from. -They'll wonder plenty about us stumbling onto their camp, Freddy. And -you and I can fill them with a lot of hooey that will make them wonder -all the more. No fooling, Freddy, it's a perfect set-up."</p> - -<p>"<i>If</i> all goes well," Freddy said as the cautious side of him came to -the fore for a moment. "But, after all, this wouldn't be the first time -we'd taken a long chance."</p> - -<p>"That's the boy, Freddy!" Dave cried, and patted his shoulder. "That's -the old fighting spirit. Okay, it's a deal, huh?"</p> - -<p>"You and your wild ideas!" The English youth sighed, then smiled -faintly. "They'll probably end up putting me in front of a firing squad -one of these days. It might just be crazy enough to work, though, I -guess. Right you are, you mad hatter. It's a go."</p> - -<p>"My pal!" Dave breathed, and beamed at him. "Contact, then! Let's peel -off the stuff we don't need, and muss ourselves up to look as though -we've been through the mill."</p> - -<p>"If we haven't been through the mill today," Freddy groaned, and -started burying things in the sand, "then I sure don't know what you'd -call it. But just remember, my little friend, if I get shot for this, -I'll come back to haunt you every single night, I promise you that!"</p> - -<p>"You won't have to come back," Dave brushed the threat aside, "because -I'll be right there with you."</p> - -<p>"I don't doubt it for a minute," Freddy said with a hopeless shrug. -"The lad's just like my shadow. Can't get rid of it. Ah me! If I'd only -had sense and remained in England, I'd probably be an air vice-marshal -about now. Oh well, such is life!"</p> - -<p>"Boy, am I glad!" Dave murmured with feeling.</p> - -<p>"Glad about what?" the English youth asked unsuspectingly.</p> - -<p>"Why, that you didn't stay in England and get promoted to be an air -vice-marshal, of course," Dave said solemnly. "After all the good old -R.A.F. has done, to have it fold up and fall apart because a young -squirt has—I just can't finish. I shudder even at the thought of such -a fate for the R.A.F."</p> - -<p>"So?" Freddy grunted, and gave him a stern look. "Very well, then, I -refuse to go through with this as planned. I'm going to tell them the -truth. They may be Germans and rotters, but just the same I can't play -that kind of a dirty trick even on them."</p> - -<p>"Refuse to go—" Dave gasped as sudden alarm shot across his face. -"Won't play a dirty trick on them? Hey! What goes on here? What do you -mean, tell the truth?"</p> - -<p>The English youth didn't answer at once. With deliberate movements he -carefully smoothed the surface of the sand that covered the equipment -he had buried. Then he nonchalantly brushed sand dust from his hands -and glanced at Dave.</p> - -<p>"I'm going to tell them who you are," he said firmly. "I just haven't -the heart to let them think they've really captured somebody, when -it's actually only you. No, I'm going to tell them who you are so they -can kick you back out into the desert, the same way a fisherman throws -back a fish that's too small. And I'm going to teach them that bit of -American slang to say as they do it."</p> - -<p>"What's that?" Dave asked as the corners of his mouth twitched.</p> - -<p>"It's—" Freddy began, and hesitated. Then his face lighted up. "Oh -yes, I remember now. Ten pennies for twelve. Yes, that's it."</p> - -<p>Dave started to bellow with laughter, but clapped his hand over his -mouth just in time. Sound carries like magic across the desert, and -they were not yet ready to make their presence known to the enemy tank -and armored car units. However, it was a couple of minutes before Dave -could choke off his laughter enough to speak.</p> - -<p>"Ten pennies for twelve!" he gasped out as tears streamed down his -cheeks. "Boy, oh boy, is that one for the book. You mean, Freddy, a -dime a dozen. But let it go. Anyway, you're one in a million, and -that's no kidding. Well, all set?"</p> - -<p>As Dave asked the question, it served as an automatic brake, a full -stop, for kidding and joshing around. In a moment the serious business -would begin—deadly serious business, upon the outcome of which might -hang not only their own lives but the success or failure of Britain's -war efforts in the Middle East. Freddy searched Dave's eyes for a -couple of seconds, and then nodded.</p> - -<p>"Right-o," he said quietly. "Let's get on with it. We've buried all our -stuff, and we both certainly look as if we've been wandering around in -this blasted desert for days. Yes, let's get on with it."</p> - -<p>"Wait, just one more thing," Dave said as Freddy started to get up and -move over the brow of the sand dune. "It just hit me, and it might -help. You can't tell. Speak nothing but English. Make out that you -don't understand German. That is, of course, if any of those birds -speak English. But let's not let on we speak and understand German -until we have to. They—Well, they might let something slip, you know."</p> - -<p>"A darn good idea, Dave!" Freddy said in honest approval. "You're -right. One never can tell."</p> - -<p>"Then off we go," Dave said, and got up onto his feet. "Stagger -and reel a little. Pretend you don't hear them the first time they -challenge. Let's even lean a little on each other for support. Boy, if -there's any of the actor in us, this sure is the time for it to come -out. And to think—Gosh!"</p> - -<p>"And to think what?" Freddy shot out the corner of his mouth as they -started lurching forward and up over the crest of the sand dune and -into full view of the enemy camp. "What were you going to say?"</p> - -<p>"To think the day would come when you and I would walk up to a bunch of -Nazi slobs and say, 'Here we are,'" Dave grunted. "Of course it's all -for a reason, but—well, it sure gives me a funny feeling inside."</p> - -<p>"I know just how you feel," Freddy said. "And I could feel a lot -better, myself. But if things work out our way, we should fret."</p> - -<p>"Things <i>will</i> work out for us!" Dave said grimly, and gave the English -youth's arm a squeeze. "They've <i>got</i> to!"</p> - -<p>Neither of them spoke for the next few minutes. They trudged forward -across the sand, purposely faltering in their steps now and then and -stumbling to their knees. Every second of the time, however, they kept -a watchful eye on the desert camp that was just about ready to move -forward. The sun was down below the rim of the world now, and night was -rushing forward from the east on black wings.</p> - -<p>Stumbling step by stumbling step, they drew closer and closer to the -enemy camp. With each step they expected to hear a wild shout go up, a -shout that would mean they had been sighted. With each step, also, a -certain inner and unspoken fear walked with them, the tiny fear that -their little plan might fail horribly almost before it had been put -into action—the kind of failure, very definite and permanent, that the -bark of a rifle and a singing bullet would cause.</p> - -<p>No rifles barked, however, and no challenging voices thundered across -the rolling sands. The tank, armored car, and truck motors had been -silenced after a short test run period, and the stillness of the vast -desert had closed down over everything. The boys impulsively held their -breath every now and then as though they and the entire world were -waiting for some sudden all destroying explosion to shatter what seemed -an eternity of silence.</p> - -<p>"Are we going to have to bump right into those birds before they see -us?" Dave murmured desperately. "Gosh! We could have come this far on -a couple of motorcycles and saved our feet. The dopes are—"</p> - -<p>"Shut up!" Freddy whispered out the corner of his mouth. "Here they -come! For goodness' sake don't keep your hand near your automatic. The -blighters have their rifles trained right on us."</p> - -<p>It was true. A squad of Nazi desert troops, led by a corporal, came -dashing across the sand toward them with rifles held up and ready to -shoot.</p> - -<p>"Lady Luck, stay with us, please!" Dave whispered softly as he and -Freddy lurched forward a few more steps.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_ELEVEN" id="CHAPTER_ELEVEN">CHAPTER ELEVEN</a><br /> - -<small><i>Prisoners by Request</i></small></h2> - - -<p>"<i>Halt!</i>"</p> - -<p>The order barked in German was akin to the crash of a rifle shot. The -two boys reeled forward one more step and then lifted their heads and -stared in surprise at the German non-commissioned officer who stood -straddle-legged in the sand directly in front of them. There was a -service Luger in his belt holster, but he wasn't using it. Instead he -held a short-barreled, rapid fire Mauser in his hands.</p> - -<p>"Put up your hands!" he snarled in German.</p> - -<p>Neither of the boys moved. They continued to stare at him in bewildered -dismay. Then Dave gave a little confused shake of his head.</p> - -<p>"Germans!" he choked out. "These aren't our chaps, Freddy. We've run -into Germans. We've been captured! Oh, blast our luck!"</p> - -<p>As Dave spoke he shot a keen glance at the expression on the corporal's -face. What he saw caused his heart to leap with hope. The man -obviously understood English, for a triumphant light leaped into his -eyes, and he smiled broadly.</p> - -<p>"Yes, you have been captured," he said in English that was heavy with -Teutonic accent. "Put your hands up. I will take your automatics. -Careful, now! One move and I will shoot."</p> - -<p>"Take them, and get it over with!" Freddy said in a hoarse voice. "All -we want is water and food. Where are we, anyway?"</p> - -<p>The corporal took a cautious step or two forward, then snatched their -automatics from them. He looked at Freddy and grinned.</p> - -<p>"Where are you?" he sneered. "What does it matter? You are my -prisoners. Now get moving. <i>Herr</i> Colonel is anxious to meet you."</p> - -<p>As though he considered that quite a joke, the German laughed loudly -and showed a set of very bad teeth. Then, motioning his squad of -soldiers to form about the two boys, he started back toward the camp. -Still continuing to act exhausted and all in, Freddy and Dave staggered -forward, faltering with every step, and reaching out to one another -for support to stop from pitching down onto the sand. All the time, -though, they shot glances at the desert camp through slitted eyelids. -Dave counted some sixty vehicles in all, and as he looked at them his -admiration for Nazi camouflage technique went up another point. Every -truck, every tank, and every armored car was daubed with paint in such -a way as to make it exactly the shades of the desert. Even two or three -tents that were still standing looked more like the desert than the -desert itself.</p> - -<p>To all that, however, Dave gave but a passing look. What caught and -held his attention was the actual equipment. It all was right up to -the minute stuff. None of it was the shabby, slipshod equipment used -by Mussolini's forces in Northern Africa. It was all made-in-Germany -stuff, light, fast, highly mobile, and of high fire power. In short, -it was instantly obvious to Dave that this was a strong and completely -equipped attacking force of the Nazi army in Africa. It was no mere -scouting patrol. And there was one other item that impressed him at -once, too. It was all Nazi. He did not see a single Italian uniform as -the corporal marched them past groups of curious-eyed German soldiers -toward one of the tents on the far side of the camp. It was as plain as -the nose on his face that these Germans were out for business, serious -business. For that reason probably, they had no Italian troops along -with them who might break and flee for their lives at the sound of the -first shot, or the first smell of gunpowder in their noses.</p> - -<p>Presently the corporal brought them to a halt in front of a desert -tent. It was the square type with slightly slanting roof and sides. The -front flap was lifted up and fastened to poles stuck in the sand to -serve as a sort of porch. But in the event of a sand storm, it could -be lowered at once and made fast so that those inside were completely -protected. Three portable tables had been placed side by side, and in -back of them sat two German officers. One was a colonel. His head was -the shape and size of a watermelon that was terribly sunburned. His -eyes were little more than slits cut in the flesh on either side of his -lumpy nose. His mouth was thin-lipped and much too wide. And on the -upper lip was a little patch of black that was supposed to be like the -little pen wiper mustache worn by his lord and master, Adolf Hitler.</p> - -<p>The other officer was a major, and his appearance was the direct -opposite of his colonel's. He was thin as a rail, and tanned the color -of old leather. From the jaw to the forehead was three times as long as -from ear to ear was wide. His nose made Dave think of a letter opener. -His eyes were like green marbles, and his pointed chin could very well -have served as one end of a pick-axe.</p> - -<p>The corporal smacked his heels together and almost threw his arm out of -joint saluting.</p> - -<p>"Two English prisoners, <i>Herr</i> Colonel," he said. "We found them -stumbling across the sand. They seem surprised that we were not of -their own forces. I have taken their guns away from them. Here they -are."</p> - -<p>The corporal went forward two steps and placed the boys' automatics on -the tables. The German colonel didn't give them so much as a glance. -He kept his slitted eyes on his prisoners and stared at them as though -they had just popped out of some museum. Dave stared back weary-eyed -at him, and tried to read the look in his eyes. Did he see surprise, -chagrin, or angry wonder there? He couldn't tell, because the lids were -drawn so close.</p> - -<p>"Where is your unit?"</p> - -<p>The colonel suddenly spat out the question in German. The boys were -perfect actors. They looked blank, shook their heads, and shrugged.</p> - -<p>"Do you speak English, sir?" Dave presently said. "And could we have -water, and—"</p> - -<p>He cut himself off short as Freddy Farmer quickly played up to him. -The English youth groaned, swayed on his feet, and would have fallen -if Dave had not grabbed him. The little exhaustion act fooled the -German colonel completely. He spat out a few words in angry annoyance, -and then ordered the corporal to help Dave and Freddy to chairs just -inside the tent, and to give them water. The boys gestured thanks with -movements of their hands, and accepted the water canteen from the -corporal. The two officers watched them in keen-eyed silence and waited -until they appeared to revive a bit.</p> - -<p>"Yes, I speak English," the colonel presently said, and surprisingly -enough, without the slightest trace of an accent. "Where is your unit? -I see from your uniform badges you are from the Sixth London Regiment."</p> - -<p>"We don't know, sir," Dave mumbled as he lowered the water canteen from -his lips. "We are lost. Two hours ago we saw this camp. We thought this -was our regiment's post."</p> - -<p>"How did you get lost?" the colonel demanded. "How long ago?"</p> - -<p>"Four days, sir," Freddy spoke up. "We were on advance patrol and—"</p> - -<p>"It was more than four days, Freddy," Dave interrupted. "It was six. I -have kept count of them."</p> - -<p>"Four or six, let him finish!" the colonel snarled, and then looked at -Freddy. "Yes? You were on patrol? Where?"</p> - -<p>Freddy hesitated and scowled.</p> - -<p>"Is that necessary?" he asked. "Would you reveal valuable information -if you were captured and taken prisoner, sir?"</p> - -<p>The blunt question startled the two Germans. They exchanged swift -glances; then the colonel bent his slitted eyes on Freddy again.</p> - -<p>"I would not be captured and taken prisoner!" he said harshly. "If you -do not wish to speak, that is your privilege. But—"</p> - -<p>The German paused and waved a hand toward the surrounding desert.</p> - -<p>"But you look as though you know what the desert can do to a man," he -finished suddenly.</p> - -<p>The two boys flinched visibly. Then Dave spoke quickly.</p> - -<p>"My comrade got a touch of the sun, sir," he said. "We possess no -valuable information we could reveal. We were simply on advance patrol. -A sand storm came up and we became separated from the main body. We -have been trying to locate it ever since. That is all of our story, -sir."</p> - -<p>Dave held his breath as he finished, and prayed inwardly. The prayer -was answered. The very fact he had said they possessed no valuable -information had instantly convinced the German colonel that they were -lying. That was as it should be. When the enemy <i>thinks</i> you know -something, he will hold your life as valuable as his own until he has -found out. The longer you keep him guessing, the longer you have to -find out things yourself, and perhaps eventually beat him at his own -game.</p> - -<p>"I do not believe you!" the colonel suddenly snapped, thus confirming -Dave's belief. "Listen to me! I have no time to waste. We have taken -you prisoner. We have given you water. Later you will receive food. -But we do not <i>have</i> to do those things. Understand that! You are -completely helpless. I have only to give the order and you will be -kicked out onto the desert to shift for yourselves. Or I can even give -the order and have you shot. It is up to you whether you wish to be -wise, or foolish."</p> - -<p>The two boys didn't say anything. They simply sat motionless and stared -unhappily off into space. Suddenly the German major spoke, and it was -all Dave could do to stop from starting violently.</p> - -<p>"I suggest you question them about that plane we sighted early this -morning, <i>Herr</i> Colonel," he said in his native tongue. "The one we -sighted and informed Tripoli about by radio."</p> - -<p>There was a moment's silence after the major had spoken, and during -that moment a hundred and one thoughts leaped and danced across Dave -Dawson's brain. So this unit had sighted the Skua? This unit had -radioed Tripoli, and attack planes had been sent out? Then it was not -just by chance that those six planes had come slicing down out of the -sun. On the contrary, their pilots had known exactly what to look -for, and the location. They had climbed up into the sun on purpose. -True, that maneuver had availed them nothing but the loss of four of -their number. Nevertheless, the realization that hostile eyes had been -watching them all the time sent little shivers rippling up and down -Dave's spine. And at the same time it made his heart sink. When he and -Freddy did not make their rendezvous contact with the Victory, another -flying team would be drawn and sent out. They, too, would be sighted as -they cruised about over what looked like nothing but limitless desert. -And when Axis planes swooped down on them—perhaps they would not be so -lucky as he and Freddy had been.</p> - -<p>Lucky? The word was like a taunting laugh in Dave's brain. Were he and -Freddy as lucky as they hoped? Had they perhaps walked knowingly into a -trap from which there was no possible escape? Was this the end of the -war for them? Was this perhaps the end of—everything?</p> - -<p>At that moment the colonel's voice roused him from the depths of his -bitter reverie.</p> - -<p>"What have you seen since dawn?" the colonel asked.</p> - -<p>"Since dawn?" Dave echoed vaguely, and then looked questioningly at -Freddy.</p> - -<p>The English youth rose to the occasion at once.</p> - -<p>"Don't you remember, Dave?" he asked. "Or has the sun dulled your -memory, too? We saw an air battle. We saw the planes fall. Don't you -remember?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, that?" Dave echoed with a shrug. "What was important about that?"</p> - -<p>"So you saw the air battle, eh?" the German colonel asked quickly. "You -saw the planes fall, perhaps?"</p> - -<p>Both Freddy and Dave hesitated. Both had the same sudden feeling that -the German was trying to lead them into some kind of a word trap. Just -what they replied to his questions might make all the difference in the -world as to their own safety. Finally Dave spoke.</p> - -<p>"Yes, we saw the planes fall," he said.</p> - -<p>The two Germans leaned forward slightly, and suppressed excitement -showed on their faces.</p> - -<p>"How many?" the colonel asked.</p> - -<p>"Five," Dave answered promptly. "Three Nazi, one Italian, and one of -ours."</p> - -<p>"That British plane," the German major spoke up suddenly. "You say you -saw it fall to the ground? What happened to the pilot and observer? -They jumped with their parachutes, eh?"</p> - -<p>Dave shook his head.</p> - -<p>"No," Freddy said for them both. "They did not jump. They glided the -plane down and crashed when they tried to land. The plane caught fire. -It was about a mile away from where we were standing. When we reached -it, it was too late to do anything."</p> - -<p>"It is as I told you, <i>Herr</i> Colonel," the major said to his senior -officer in German. "If those British aviators saw anything, they -died before they could take the information back to their base. Yes, -undoubtedly they were simply sent out to hunt for these two standing -before us."</p> - -<p>Dave kept a dumb, blank look on his face, as though he didn't -understand a single word the German was saying. Inwardly, though, -he was smiling happily to himself. Thank goodness he had made the -suggestion to Freddy that they act as though they didn't speak German. -And thank goodness, too, they had decided to wear infantry uniforms, -and to admit readily they had seen a British plane crash and burn up, -in the event they were captured. It was all working out perfectly.</p> - -<p>A moment later, though, when the colonel replied in the same tongue, -the smile died in Dave, and little fingers of worry and fear began to -clutch at his heart.</p> - -<p>"Perhaps," the senior officer grunted. "Then again, perhaps not. These -two young swine puzzle me. I feel sure their story is made up of lies. -Four, six days in this cursed desert? I doubt that very much. Yes, very -much, indeed."</p> - -<p>"But just look at them, <i>Herr</i> Colonel!" the major protested. "Both are -ready to collapse at any moment. They are completely exhausted. I agree -that perhaps they lie a little. But I think they speak the truth about -wandering about the desert."</p> - -<p>"For six days?" the colonel echoed harshly, and gave him a scornful -look. "It is evident you have had no experience with the desert. I have -spent a lot of my life in this part of the world, <i>Herr</i> Major. Look at -their boots! Six days of sand and sun would do more than that to a pair -of boots."</p> - -<p>It was all Dave and Freddy could do to refrain from looking down at -their boots. Boots! The one item that hadn't even occurred to them. Of -course the German colonel was right. Six days, or even four days of -tramping across the desert would unquestionably wear their boots paper -thin unless they had taken special care of them such as rubbing them -with grease or oil to stop the leather from drying up and cracking, and -mending each little crack or cut before it was too late. Their boots -showed none of that kind of care, however. And the fact they had no -packs was proof they hadn't had any shoe oil or grease in the first -place.</p> - -<p>"You're right, <i>Herr</i> Colonel," the major said as he scowled down at -the boys' boots. "They do not look very much the worse for wear, at -that."</p> - -<p>"That doesn't prove anything, however," the German colonel grunted, and -Dave's heart started sliding back down out of his throat. "We shall -see, however. I have thoughts about these two, and I will find out soon -enough if my thoughts are true ones. Meantime we will get as much out -of them as we can."</p> - -<p>"You mean, in case they do speak the truth?" the major murmured.</p> - -<p>"Exactly that!" the colonel replied with a curt nod. "I doubt if there -are any British forces within two hundred and fifty miles. Still, we -must make sure. The success of this surprise smash against the British -means much to me. It means everything. I wish to be removed from this -cursed part of the world. I am sick of the sun, and the sand, and the -flies and other insects. Soon, in case you have not been told, things -will happen in the Balkans. That fat, stupid fool, Mussolini, has made -a mess of things in Greece and Albania. It will soon be necessary for -the <i>Fuehrer</i> to go to his aid, and pull him out of the fire. I hope to -have a division command when the Leader marches down into Greece. If I -smash the British out of Libya, and annihilate them so they cannot even -escape to their Egyptian strongholds, I shall be given the command of a -division of tanks for the asking. And I shall have it, never fear!"</p> - -<p>The German colonel emphasized what he had just said by giving a savage -nod of his head, and banging one huge clenched fist down on the table. -Then he turned his glittering, half closed eyes upon the two boys.</p> - -<p>"So you have been lost for four or even six days, eh?" he shot out. -"Very well, then. Look closely at this map. Put your finger where you -were when you started out of this advance patrol."</p> - -<p>As the German spoke, he unfolded a military map and spread it out on -the tables. Hope zoomed up in Dave. Perhaps the map would tell them -about the plans of the expected attack against the British forces -from Bengazi eastward to the Egyptian frontier. It might even show the -location of the other Nazi units he was sure must be operating under -the command of this headquarters colonel.</p> - -<p>If he expected all that, however, or even a small part of it, he was -doomed to disappointment. The instant he glanced at the map he saw that -it was completely unmarked. He studied it for a moment as a stall for -time. He didn't dare point out a spot too close to where he judged to -be their present position. A short scouting trip by the Germans could -prove them liars in no time at all. Yet at the same time he didn't -want to indicate a point miles and miles away. It was obvious that the -colonel suspected them, and to state they had wandered some two or -three hundred miles across the desert would simply add to the German's -suspicions. You don't walk that far in the desert in that short space -of time. You don't even walk a small fraction of it—and live. Ten or -fifteen miles in the cool of the night is about the limit.</p> - -<p>Suddenly Freddy spoke up—Freddy, of the keen, sharp brain that had -helped them avoid more than one enemy trap in the past.</p> - -<p>"This map is printed in German, sir," he said. "I can guess at the -spelling of some of the places, but I am not sure. The place where -our patrol started from was called Amarir. Yes, I think that was the -name. It was fifty miles southwest of El Siwa. One of the tanks broke -down, and it was necessary to repair it at once. This officer and I -went ahead on foot to reconnoiter the area beyond an escarpment. It was -there the sand storm caught us."</p> - -<p>Freddy paused, gave a little puzzled shake of his head, and scowled -down at the map.</p> - -<p>"I'm sure my brother officer is mistaken," he said presently. "It was -not six days ago. No. Perhaps it was not even four. I have lost track -of the days completely. But where are we now, sir? Are we very far from -El Siwa? Or perhaps Amarir?"</p> - -<p>The German colonel didn't reply. He gave Freddy a shrewd glance and -then looked down at the map. Presently he raised his eyes.</p> - -<p>"It is of no importance to you where you are," he said pointedly. "You -are prisoners. Be content with that fact. You were lucky you were not -shot on sight. I—"</p> - -<p>The colonel cut himself off short as a tank captain appeared at the -entrance of the tent and saluted.</p> - -<p>"All is ready, <i>Herr</i> Colonel," he said. "Shall I give orders for the -column to proceed? As <i>Herr</i> Colonel can see, it is practically dark -now."</p> - -<p>"Give the order, then," the senior officer said with a curt nod. "But, -as usual, have the armored cars and one truck remain for a time. Also -their crews, of course. They can strike these tents in a few minutes. -That is all."</p> - -<p>The colonel waited until the tank captain had saluted and made a hasty -exit. Then he turned to the major at his side and spoke again in their -native tongue.</p> - -<p>"Perhaps a little rest will help the memory of these two," he said with -a faint smirking twist of his lips. "Anyway, I haven't any more time to -waste on them right now. You will take charge of them, and take them -in your car. Try to get something out of them if you want to. However, -they will probably fall asleep on you. Tomorrow I will spring my little -surprise. Then we shall see what we shall see. Curse that British plane -we sighted this morning! It is the first we have seen so far, and it -worries me a little. If we were not so far away, I'd—"</p> - -<p>The German let his voice trail off and sat staring moodily down at his -fingertips drumming on the table top. After a moment or so he jerked -his head up and shrugged.</p> - -<p>"Perhaps I will, even now," he said as though talking to himself. -"Anyway, take these two away. Give them food and water and take them -along in your car. That's all. Now get out. I'll see you later."</p> - -<p>The colonel dismissed them with a nod and immediately started stuffing -papers and maps into a black dispatch case. The major got to his feet -and looked at the two boys.</p> - -<p>"You will come with me," he said in halting English. "Please remember I -have this Luger here at my belt. It may help you to remember that if I -tell you I am one of the best shots in the German army. You understand?"</p> - -<p>"A man would be a fool to go out there," Freddy said quietly, and -pointed toward the desert.</p> - -<p>"A first class screw-ball," Dave, grunted, and watched the German -colonel cram things into the brief case.</p> - -<p>The senior officer heard him and looked up sharply.</p> - -<p>"So you are not English, eh?" he asked with a frown. "You are an -American."</p> - -<p>Dave didn't say anything. He simply returned the man's stare.</p> - -<p>"An American?" the colonel repeated as though he were rolling the word -around in his brain and observing it from all angles. "So you left -your country and came over here to fight for the British? That is -interesting. That is <i>very</i> interesting, indeed!"</p> - -<p>A sly smile that curled the German's lips, and a sudden odd gleam that -showed in his half closed eyes, made Dave's heart grow chilly and cold, -and caused the back of his neck to tingle with that all too familiar -warning sensation. He shrugged it off after a moment and obeyed the -major's order to fall into step with Freddy and be marched away.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_TWELVE" id="CHAPTER_TWELVE">CHAPTER TWELVE</a><br /> - -<small><i>The Colonel's Trap</i></small></h2> - - -<p>Dull pain shot through Dave Dawson's left shoulder and crawled up the -side of his neck and into his head. It came at regular intervals like -the ticking of a clock, and no matter which way he moved he could not -seem to get away from it. From a long, long way off he heard the murmur -of sound, but it held no meaning for him. His brain was too befuddled -to grasp the meaning of anything. All about was darkness. Darkness, the -shocks of dull pain, and the distant murmur of voices.</p> - -<p>"I say, can't you just shake him? Do you have to punch his blessed head -off? Let him alone, I say!"</p> - -<p>The sound of Freddy Farmer's voice suddenly cleared Dave's head and -revived his senses. He awoke from a groggy sleep to find himself in the -back seat of one of the armored cars. The German major was bending over -him and punching him on the shoulder and snarling in his ear.</p> - -<p>"Wake up, you American swine! Wake up, do you hear me? Wake up!"</p> - -<p>At the other end of the seat Freddy Farmer was protesting angrily, -helpless to do anything else but that. A German soldier standing by -the side of the car was holding a Mauser muzzle against the English -youth's chest. For a split instant Dave was tempted to pretend he was -still asleep and lash out at the German major's chin, and apologize -afterward. On second thought, though, he decided that might not be so -good. So, instead, he groaned and sat up so that the German missed his -next blow and struck the back of the seat.</p> - -<p>"Hey, what's the matter?" Dave cried sleepily.</p> - -<p>The German stopped punching and swore softly in German through clenched -teeth. Dave could just see him vaguely, as it was dark all around, -although there was the first grey streak of a new dawn in the east. It -was then he realized that the murmur of sound he had heard in his sleep -was caused by intense activity about him. The German mechanized column -had completed its night march and was now "bedding down" for a new day. -Trucks, tanks, and armored cars alike were being covered with strips -of camouflage canvas that would render them invisible to aircraft -above. Headquarters tents were being set up, and off to his right a -couple of rolling kitchens were being made ready for the preparing of -the early dawn mess for the officers and troops. The commands that flew -back and forth were spoken in low tones, and every soldier seemed to -know exactly what to do. It was a display of military efficiency plus, -and once again Dave had to admit admiration for Nazi war technique.</p> - -<p>At that moment he received a final blow from the German major.</p> - -<p>"This is no sightseeing trip!" the officer barked at him. "Get out of -this car, and come along with me. No wonder the British are losing the -war. You seem to do nothing but sleep. Get out of this car, at once."</p> - -<p>A blazing retort rose to Dave's lips, but he choked it back and climbed -stiff-legged out of the car and down onto the sand. Freddy was pushed -out beside him. He looked at his pal and grinned in the bad light.</p> - -<p>"That shut-eye sure helped," he said to Freddy. "Anything happen? I -think I must have popped off the instant we got under way."</p> - -<p>"You did," Freddy replied. "Phew, you could sleep through a -bombardment, I fancy. His Nibs didn't like it at all. He was full of -conversation, and—"</p> - -<p>Freddy suddenly received a blow in the middle of his back that sent him -pitching headlong down onto the sand. Dave instantly leaped forward and -helped him to his feet. The German major glared at the English youth -and fingered his holstered Luger.</p> - -<p>"Another insult and you'll get a bullet, British swine!" he hissed. -"You forget I speak your filthy language."</p> - -<p>"Do you?" Freddy echoed with icy calmness. "I hadn't noticed it, you -know."</p> - -<p>Dave set himself to leap in front of his pal in case the officer struck -again. However, the German seemed to think better of it. Perhaps it was -because the colonel came striding up at that moment. The commandant of -the mechanized desert column ignored the major and peered at Dave and -Freddy. Presently his flat moon-shaped face relaxed into a brief smile, -and he nodded.</p> - -<p>"So you got some sleep, eh?" he grunted. "That is good. Perhaps you -will remember things a little bit better today. First, though, we must -eat. Ninety-five miles is a long way, even in the cool of the night. -Yes, we will all eat first."</p> - -<p>The German nodded and turned to his major.</p> - -<p>"Put them in one of the tents, and post a guard," he ordered. "Then -report to me."</p> - -<p>Without waiting for the junior officer to acknowledge the order, the -colonel swung around on his heel and walked off. Dave still kept his -muscles coiled and ready for action, but it proved unnecessary. The -major's anger had cooled off. At any rate, the sudden appearance of the -commanding officer had caused him to change his mind. He simply glared -at Freddy for an instant and then gave a jerk of his head.</p> - -<p>"Follow me!" he grated. Then to the guard who hovered close, "Walk -behind them and use the muzzle of that gun if you have to."</p> - -<p>A few moments later the two R.A.F. pilots were seated on the sand floor -of a tent that had been set up on the eastern fringe of the camp. The -front flap was left open, and they could look out at the guard pacing -up and down in front of the tent and at most of the camp beyond. Dawn -was coming fast, but the camouflage work had been completed, and the -entire column was ready for another day of hiding from any patrolling -British aircraft.</p> - -<p>"They sure know their stuff!" Dave breathed softly. "Here we are right -in the doggone camp, and we can hardly tell those covered over tanks -from the sand. They must have been preparing for this a long time, what -I mean!"</p> - -<p>"I don't doubt it a bit," Freddy grunted moodily. "Thoroughness is a -by-word with the Germans. Listen, Dave, what do you think—?"</p> - -<p>Dave suddenly reached over and touched his arm.</p> - -<p>"Take a look at that guard," Dave said in a loud voice. "Did you ever -see such a funny-looking face in your life? And look at the way the -slob carries his rifle. I bet he hasn't been in service over a couple -of weeks. Bet he couldn't hit the back side of a barn door. What an -awful-looking dope! Holy smoke! He's got a face even funnier looking -than that dizzy boss of his, Hitler. Hey, Guard! You're all out of -step, you fathead!"</p> - -<p>"Dave, for cat's sake!" Freddy gasped.</p> - -<p>The guard turned toward them, looked blank, then shrugged and continued -his slow pacing up and down.</p> - -<p>"Are you mad, Dave?" Freddy choked out. "You want a gun butt or a boot -heel in your face?"</p> - -<p>"Who, me?" Dave echoed, and grinned at him. "Of course not. I just -wanted to see if the guy understands English. He doesn't. Now, what -were you going to say?"</p> - -<p>Freddy whistled softly and gave a little shake of his head.</p> - -<p>"You certainly find out things a strange way!" he breathed. "Lucky for -you he <i>didn't</i> understand English. He would have bashed you a good one -for those insults, have no fear. What was I going to say? Blast it, -I've forgotten. No! Wait a minute. What do you think of that colonel, -Dave?"</p> - -<p>"Dumb like a fox," Dave said slowly. "He had the wheels in his head -working all the time. He's not even close to being satisfied about us. -Yeah! I sure wish I were a mind reader. I'd like to know what this -surprise he was hinting about is."</p> - -<p>"I have an idea it is some kind of a trap," Freddy murmured with a -frown. "He's jolly well up to something."</p> - -<p>"Speaking of traps," Dave said, "thanks for not letting me step into -that one he set when he pulled out that map. I was just about to point -out some town. That would have let him know we understood German. You -sure gave him a good line. By the way, where the heck are the Libyan -towns of Amarir and El Siwa, anyway? Never heard of them."</p> - -<p>"Me either," Freddy said, and grinned. "Just made them up. I think it -worried him a bit, too. Out this way there're lots of little spots you -don't hear mentioned once in a hundred years. Like all those islands in -the South Pacific, the names seldom appear on maps because the places -are too small. Yes, I think that German colonel spent a lot of time -last night studying his maps and looking for Amarir and El Siwa."</p> - -<p>"It sure was fast thinking, pal," Dave said. "My hat's off to you. -We're in a jam, though, Freddy, and you and I've got to work fast. I -can only guess where we are, but my guess is that we're not far from -British-occupied ground. That means the surprise attack is going to be -pulled pretty soon."</p> - -<p>"I agree with you," Freddy said with a nod. "By the way, did you see -that dispatch case of his? Those maps and papers? I have a feeling they -could tell us all we want to know."</p> - -<p>"I'll bet my shirt on it!" Dave said excitedly. "If we could only get -hold of that dispatch case, and get us a plane, we'd—"</p> - -<p>Dave cut himself off short and made a wry face at the vast stretches -of desert he could see by simply raising his eyes and glancing out the -front side of the tent.</p> - -<p>"Sure!" he said presently with a bitter chuckle. "And if we had some -ham we could have some ham and eggs, if we had some eggs! Nuts!"</p> - -<p>The two boys lapsed into moody silence and stared unhappily at the -guard marching slowly up and down in front of their prison tent. Then, -suddenly, it happened! Perhaps it was just another of those mysterious -coincidences so common in war, or perhaps Fate had been waiting for -that exact moment. At any rate, the sound of a distant airplane engine -suddenly came to the boys. They sat up straight, cocked their heads and -stared hard at the shadowy dawn sky to the west.</p> - -<p>"That's a Nazi ship!" Dave breathed excitedly. "I can tell the throb of -a German Daimler-Benz engine with both ears stuffed with cotton."</p> - -<p>"And it's a Messerschmitt," Freddy said, and pointed. "Look! Take a -bead on that sand dune over there and then look up above it. See it? A -Messerschmitt One-Ten. There! He's cut his engine and he's gliding down -toward this camp."</p> - -<p>"Not the ship we saw take off last night," Dave grunted as he found the -plane in the sky and watched it glide downward and toward them. "That -was a Messerschmitt One-Nine single seater. This is the Messerschmitt -One-Ten three place job. Yeah, pilot, radio man, and gunner. Maybe -they take turns contacting this desert headquarters. Boy! Seeing that -ship certainly gives a guy thoughts, doesn't it, huh?"</p> - -<p>Freddy simply nodded grimly and said nothing. The plane was very low, -now, and sliding in to land in full view of their prison tent. As it -slowly settled down onto the sand, they suddenly saw the German colonel -and the major run out to the spot where the Messerschmitt was braked -to a stop. There were only two figures in the plane. They climbed down -at once and engaged in what appeared to the boys to be an excited -conversation with the colonel. Dave wasn't sure, but twice he thought -he noticed the column commandant half turn and shoot a look over their -way.</p> - -<p>The group talked for a few minutes, then moved away in the direction of -the headquarters tent. When they had passed from view, Dave turned his -head and smiled sadly at Freddy.</p> - -<p>"Look at that plane just over there!" he said with a happy sigh. -"They've even left the prop ticking over. Gosh, what I wouldn't give -for a chance to—"</p> - -<p>He left the rest hanging in midair and stared unhappily at the -flat-faced guard walking up and down. The man carried a Mauser rifle -in the crook of one arm, and there was a long-barreled Luger in the -holster at his belt. He looked as though his thoughts were a million -miles away, but Dave was quite positive the man was on the alert and -ready for any sudden action of their part.</p> - -<p>A moment later a second guard appeared with a couple of mess tins of -food. Hardly looking at the two boys, he set the mess tins down inside -the tent and then stepped up to the guard.</p> - -<p>"We are all to report at <i>Herr</i> Colonel's tent at once," he said in -German. "Come along."</p> - -<p>To the utter amazement of the boys, the two Germans walked away and -disappeared around a group of camouflage-covered tanks in the direction -of the headquarters tank. Two moments of tingling silence ticked by, -and then Freddy grabbed Dave by the arm.</p> - -<p>"A perfect chance, Dave!" he whispered excitedly. "Not one of the -beggars in sight. Let's make a run for that Messerschmitt and be off. -What utter fools they are to give us this chance!"</p> - -<p>Dave was already scrambling up onto his feet, but upon hearing Freddy's -last words something seemed to grab hold of him; seemed to freeze him -motionless for a brief instant and then push him down onto the sand. -Freddy half turned and stared at him as though he had suddenly gone -crazy.</p> - -<p>"What's the matter?" the English youth gasped. "Are you paralyzed? Come -on, Dave! No telling when they'll come back."</p> - -<p>Dave shook his head, took hold of Freddy's arm and pulled him down onto -the sand.</p> - -<p>"Nix, Freddy!" he admonished. "Sit down and start eating. The hunch -just hit me right between the eyes. This is <i>it</i>, Freddy!"</p> - -<p>"This is what?" the English youth demanded angrily. "Listen, Dave, if—"</p> - -<p>"Shut up, and eat!" Dave cut him off. "<i>This is the surprise.</i> I'm sure -of it. The colonel's little surprise. Don't you get it? They don't -believe our story about the British plane crashing, and the two fellows -in it burning up. They think <i>we're</i> those two chaps. Get it? So that -Messerschmitt is the colonel's little trap. I'll bet you every dollar -I ever hope to have that they're waiting and watching for us to make a -break for that plane, and have got a couple of machine guns trained on -it in the bargain. It's up to us to fool them, and stay put."</p> - -<p>The annoyance and anger slowly and reluctantly faded from the English -youth's eyes. He looked at Dave, then looked sadly out at the plane.</p> - -<p>"Of course you're right, Dave," he murmured after a moment or two. "I'm -a blasted fool, and almost ran us into something. Yes, you're dead -right, Dave. Oh, well, let's eat. At least that's something to do!"</p> - -<p>They had been eating for about ten minutes when their guard suddenly -appeared in front of the tent. He glared at them for an instant and -then motioned with one of his hands.</p> - -<p>"<i>Herr Kommandant</i> wants to see you," he said in German. "Come!"</p> - -<p>The two boys didn't move a muscle. They simply looked blank and -puzzled until the guard made motions that even a blind man would have -understood. Then they slowly got to their feet and walked out of the -tent.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_THIRTEEN" id="CHAPTER_THIRTEEN">CHAPTER THIRTEEN</a><br /> - -<small><i>Desert Doom</i></small></h2> - - -<p>The German colonel was flanked by his major and two Nazi Air Force -pilots. All of them stared flint-eyed as the guard ushered the two boys -into the headquarters tent. They returned stare for stare and waited -for somebody to speak. The colonel seemed to be trying the silence and -hard eye cure on them, for it was a good three minutes before he opened -his mouth. Dave had the crazy urge to laugh in the man's face, and if -the situation hadn't been so deadly serious he probably would have. -German officers have never taken any prizes for good looks, and the -colonel was certainly at the bottom of the list.</p> - -<p>"Tell me your story again!" he suddenly snapped out, and nodded at -Dave. "Yes, you, my little American."</p> - -<p>Dave hesitated a moment as though to get the facts straight in his -mind. Then he slowly told a story identical with everything that he -and Freddy had said before. The Germans listened in silence, but a -sneer twisted the colonel's lips by the time Dave had finished.</p> - -<p>"So?" the German commandant echoed in a purring tone. "You did not -arrive at the crash in time to save the two Englishmen in it, eh? They -were unfortunately burned up alive?"</p> - -<p>A warning bell sounded in Dave, and the familiar tingling sensation -was at the back of his neck. He was sure that he and Freddy were being -trapped, but he was helpless to do anything about it. The only possible -thing he could do was to stick to their story.</p> - -<p>"They certainly looked burned up to me, sir," he said.</p> - -<p>The colonel smiled, and his slitted eyes held a triumphant glitter.</p> - -<p>"You were very clever not to take advantage of the chance just now to -try and escape in that Messerschmitt plane," he said with a leer. "Very -clever, because you would most certainly be dead now if you had made -such an attempt. However, you do not fool me a bit. Infantry officers, -eh? Bah! Do you think we are fools, you swine?"</p> - -<p>Both Dave and Freddy had the sickening sensation of the ground falling -away from under them. They forced themselves to keep dismay from their -faces, however, and stared puzzled-eyed back at the colonel.</p> - -<p>"What is that, sir?" Freddy presently asked in a surprised tone. -"You—you think <i>we</i> were in that plane? But that's ridiculous! Those -two poor chaps burned up. They died! We saw them with our own eyes. -Look at these cuts and scratches on my hands. I got them trying to save -those R.A.F. lads. I don't understand what you mean, sir!"</p> - -<p>"You understand perfectly!" the colonel said harshly, and stabbed a -thick finger at him. "Yes, you would like me to believe your story, but -I don't. You see, I have other proof. You probably injured your hands -on rocks and desert brush, but <i>not</i> from trying to save two British -airmen. They didn't burn up and die in their plane!"</p> - -<p>"Say, what is this?" Dave choked out with forced dumbfounded amazement, -though his heart was actually sliding down into his boots. "Who says -they didn't burn up?"</p> - -<p>"I do!" the colonel thundered in a voice that was probably heard 'way -back in Tripoli. "These two German pilots have just returned from an -inspection of that crash. I radioed Tripoli last night for that to be -done. They have just arrived and made their report to me!"</p> - -<p>The German paused and bent the eyes of death on the two boys.</p> - -<p>"They found no charred bodies in that crash!" he suddenly spat out in -their faces. "They found goggle glasses and rims in the burned cockpit. -They found radio earphones of burned helmets. They found the remains -of a camera—something that is only carried in that type of plane on -<i>special</i> occasions! They found parachute harness buckles and clasps. -They found lots of things that the occupants of that plane left behind -when <i>they set fire to their craft</i>!"</p> - -<p>"Set afire, my hat!" Freddy blurted out. "I tell you we saw it crash -and burn up!"</p> - -<p>At that moment one of the German airmen shook his head and said -something to the colonel so fast that neither of the boys could catch -what it was. The colonel nodded and broadened his leer.</p> - -<p>"Stop lying!" he snarled. "You are caught. The plane did not crash and -burn up. <i>Herr</i> Captain, here, has just told me that the marks in the -sand show that the plane made a good landing. There were also other -marks in the sand. <i>Two sets of footprints leading northward from the -crash!</i>"</p> - -<p>The German commander thumped his fist down on the table in front of -him and glared at the two boys out of eyes fitted with dancing shafts -of lightning. Dave could almost feel every drop of blood drain down -out of his body. His mouth went bone dry and his leg joints seemed -to turn to jelly. It was all he could do to hold himself erect. He -glanced at the German pilot who had spoken, and in that moment he would -gladly have given anything to get his hands about the man's scrawny, -leathery-skinned neck.</p> - -<p>"So what?" he suddenly shot out, returning his gaze to the colonel's -face. "If you think we're R.A.F. pilots, then that's your mistake. So -what?"</p> - -<p>The colonel's eyes flew open a bit in stunned surprise. Anger flooded -his face with a fiery red. Then just as quickly the anger faded and he -laughed harshly.</p> - -<p>"American bluff!" he snorted. "I have heard of that, but it will do you -no good. No good at all, do you hear? I know all about you now, and—"</p> - -<p>The colonel leaned forward and thrust out his jaw.</p> - -<p>"And I shall deal with you as I would any other spies!" He fairly -crammed the words down their throats.</p> - -<p>The boys blinked, but that was the only outward sign they gave of the -conflict of emotions that raged within them.</p> - -<p>"Yes, deal with you as spies!" the German repeated. "And I know a very -nice way to deal with spies."</p> - -<p>"We are not spies," Freddy spoke up quietly. "We are no more than -prisoners of war. We demand we be regarded as such. Or do the -recognized rules of warfare mean nothing to you?"</p> - -<p>Dave expected to see the German fly into a rage at Freddy's final -outburst, but such was not the case. The colonel's face became hard as -a disc of frozen ice. His eyes were pin points of flame that licked out -from between the lids. He gave a curt shake of his melon-shaped head.</p> - -<p>"No, they mean nothing to me!" he said, tight-lipped, and flung one -arm out in a circular gesture. "Here in this desert I hold the supreme -command. Here <i>I</i> am the <i>Fuehrer</i>, the Leader. My word is law. To -disobey means instant death. My officers and my troops know that, too. -No, I make my own rules. And when I order, you to be shot—<i>you will be -shot!</i>"</p> - -<p>Dave knew, as Freddy knew, that it was foolish and a waste of time -to pose as infantry officers any longer. The game was up. Well laid -plans and precautions had availed them nothing. They had failed. An -inspection of the burned up plane had knocked the props right from -under them. Their future was in the laps of the gods. No plans and -preparation now. They could only fall back on fast thinking, fast -action and prayer.</p> - -<p>"Okay, go ahead and shoot!" he told the German defiantly. "Our job is -done. Our reports are now in the hands of the British High Command. -Sure! We've done our job, and we're not afraid to die. Go ahead and -shoot, and nuts to you and your whole gang!"</p> - -<p>The German colonel gave him the kind of a look a wearied parent might -give a spoiled brat, and slowly shook his head.</p> - -<p>"It is no use, my little fool American," he said. "You only waste your -breath seeking to fool me. Whatever your mission was, I know that it -failed. It failed because you did not return to your base. You landed -in the desert, and very stupidly allowed us to take you prisoners. And -you made no code report to your superiors because there was no radio in -your plane. These German pilots made sure of that, too."</p> - -<p>The colonel turned to them, repeated the statement in German and -watched the two pilots shake their heads vigorously. Then suddenly the -colonel whirled around as Freddy burst out laughing.</p> - -<p>"And what is so funny, my swine Englander?" he snarled.</p> - -<p>Freddy didn't even look at him. He looked at Dave instead and grinned -broadly.</p> - -<p>"Well, I guess we lose that bet, Dave," he said. "But I have to laugh -when I think of Jones and Barker in that other patrol plane trying to -collect from us. I don't fancy they'll come out this way again looking -for us."</p> - -<p>"Not a chance," Dave replied quickly, playing up to Freddy's lead. -"They're safe and sound at Wavell's base now. They'd be crazy if they -didn't stay there until Zero Hour."</p> - -<p>"What's that?" the German colonel shouted, and came part way up out of -his chair. "Another patrol plane? Zero Hour? What do you mean?"</p> - -<p>Dave fairly leaped at the opening the German's questions presented.</p> - -<p>"Oh, nothing," he said with a shrug. "We were just kidding to see what -you would do. We were really alone. There wasn't any other plane along -with us. Oh—Anyway, <i>you didn't see one, did you</i>?"</p> - -<p>The German colonel didn't reply. He dropped back on his chair and eyed -first one of them and then the other. Because his eyes were so well -hidden behind the slits, it was impossible for Dave to tell what effect -his lies had had upon the German. However, he was fairly sure that -the man was puzzled; wasn't so sure of himself now, and was giving the -matter very serious consideration. For a second Dave was tempted to -carry on his crazy chit-chat with Freddy in the hope of befuddling the -German even more. On second thought, though, he killed the urge and was -content to let well enough alone.</p> - -<p>"Another plane, eh?" the German muttered in his own tongue. "I wonder. -It is of course possible, yet—"</p> - -<p>He jerked his head around to the taller of the two German Air Force -pilots.</p> - -<p>"You took part in that air battle yesterday shortly after dawn," he -snapped. "How many enemy planes did you engage?"</p> - -<p>"Only one, a British Blackburn Skua," the pilot replied instantly. -Then, as his face darkened from memory, he added, "I would have shot it -down, myself, but I was flying as observer-gunner in one of the Italian -planes. The weakling at the controls became scared and ran away."</p> - -<p>"Those Italians!" the colonel said, and spat onto the sand. "Not one -of them, including their fat dictator, has the courage of a newborn -chicken. Bah! I spit on their flag! So there was no other enemy craft?"</p> - -<p>"None," the German pilot assured him. "Only the one."</p> - -<p>The colonel nodded and turned to the boys again.</p> - -<p>"And if you had been lucky enough to return to—to General Wavell's -base, as you think that <i>other</i> plane did," he asked softly, "just what -would you have reported, eh?"</p> - -<p>Dave opened his mouth to let fly with a wise-crack, but Freddy beat him -to the punch.</p> - -<p>"Your plan of surprise attack, of course," the English youth said -quietly. "How you have fifteen motorized units hidden out here on the -desert. And how you plan to make the surprise attack on the British -garrison at Tobruk just before dawn tomorrow. And how you expect to -take Tobruk from the English and thus trap all of the British forces -that extend westward to Bengazi and the most advanced outpost at El -Aghelia at the southern end of the Gulf of Sidra. Yes, those and a few -other details. But it doesn't matter now about us giving the British -High Command the information. The other two chaps have informed them, -of course."</p> - -<p>Had a thousand pound aerial bomb suddenly blown up inside the desert -headquarters tent at that moment, no one there could have been more -surprised. The German colonel's eyes bulged out, and his jaw dropped -down so low it almost struck the top of the table covered with maps. -Even Dave caught his breath and stared hard at his pal. The English -youth simply smiled and shrugged, and appeared to be enjoying himself -immensely. Eventually the German colonel pulled himself together and -snorted aloud.</p> - -<p>"Very clever, my little swine," he sneered. "For a moment I thought you -did know something. But of course you don't. Nor does anybody else, for -you two were alone."</p> - -<p>Freddy Farmer shrugged again.</p> - -<p>"Then it must be so if you say so," he said gravely.</p> - -<p>The colonel reddened again. He clenched and unclenched his big fists -and looked as though he were going to lose his temper completely and -lash out at the young Englishman. He held his temper in check, however, -and twisted his lips into a sneer.</p> - -<p>"Perhaps you know some of the other details?" he asked, and watched -Freddy's face closely.</p> - -<p>"No, I don't, to tell the truth," Freddy replied calmly. "Perhaps -you'll be good enough to tell me. It's about the Italian fleet. I'm not -sure what part it is to play in your attack plans."</p> - -<p>The words scored another bull's-eye, that once again amazed everybody -including Dave Dawson. Then, before anybody could speak, Freddy spoke -again.</p> - -<p>"Not that it matters," he said, "but are units of the Italian fleet -to bombard Bengazi and Derna? Or just Tobruk? Of course, the British -Mediterranean fleet will be there to greet them, but I'm curious to -know, just the same."</p> - -<p>The German colonel opened his mouth to bellow with anger, then suddenly -snapped it shut. He smiled and looked at Freddy with almost a touch of -admiration.</p> - -<p>"My congratulations, my little Englisher," he said. "You are far more -clever than I suspected. But your eyes gave you away just now. Too bad. -You might have enjoyed yourself a bit watching me worry. But such is -fate, eh? My surprise attack? I am quite willing to explain it to you. -Dead men cannot talk, you know."</p> - -<p>The German paused, and the cold glitter that came into his eyes seemed -to touch Dave's heart like fingers of ice.</p> - -<p>"You are quite correct," the German continued speaking. "There are -fifteen desert units hidden out here on the desert. We have been in -the desert for a full week now. And not one Englishman has known that -we were here. Fifteen units. A mechanized infantry division, and a -tank division. Over thirty thousand troops ready and eager to teach -you Englishmen a lesson you will never forget. No, the Italians are -not fighting your great General Wavell this time. This time it will be -Germans—<i>real</i> soldiers. And we will crush and annihilate Wavell's -troops to the last man."</p> - -<p>The German nodded savagely and thumped his fist on the table for -emphasis.</p> - -<p>"At Tobruk, at dawn tomorrow!" he shouted a moment later. "Tonight -will be our last night on the desert. At dawn tomorrow the battle and -victory. Nothing can stop us. Nothing shall! And within a week we shall -be in Alexandria and Cairo. The British Northern African army will -be shattered, and your great General Wavell's troops in Ethiopia and -Eritrea will arrive too late. They will simply march into our waiting -arms!"</p> - -<p>"And the Italian fleet?" Freddy murmured as the other stopped shouting.</p> - -<p>"They will do their little part to help with the bombardment of -Tobruk," the Colonel said with an impatient gesture. "But we are -prepared to carry them on our backs if we have to. And now, my little -Englander, we speak of you. Does your American friend understand -German, too?"</p> - -<p>"We both speak and understand it," Freddy replied calmly.</p> - -<p>Dave stifled a gasp of utter amazement just in time. As it was, he -could not stop himself from jerking his head around and staring at -Freddy out of accusing eyes. Freddy admitting they both spoke German? -What in thunder had gotten into him? Yet the German colonel seemed to -have known they spoke his language, or at least that Freddy did. What -in the world—</p> - -<p>"It is amusing to speak English," the German colonel's voice cut into -his whirling thoughts. "So we will not change. Now I have given you a -little information. It is your turn to give me some. I wish to be sure -about the strength of the British garrisons at Tobruk, and Derna, and -Bengazi. Also the British strength at Bardia, and at Sollum on the -Egyptian frontier. You will give me that information?"</p> - -<p>"Even if I knew, which I don't," Freddy said, speaking right up to him, -"I most certainly wouldn't tell you a thing."</p> - -<p>"Bravo!" the German cried in a mocking voice, and clapped his hands. -"The little English pig is full of courage. Of course you wouldn't tell -me <i>now</i>! Later, it will be different. You both will beg and scream for -permission to tell me everything you know."</p> - -<p>"That's what you think!" Dave spoke up for the first time in several -minutes. "You've got another guess coming, if you ask me."</p> - -<p>"I am not asking you, my American fool!" the German snapped at him. -"You, and this little Englisher, will be asking me—yes, begging me to -listen to all you have to say. And that will be a lot. Ah, sneer, and -look very brave, if you wish, but tonight it will be different. Yes, -much different. You two will come along with us tonight on our last -march to our attack positions. But tonight you will not ride in one of -the cars. You will walk and run behind my car. Your hands will be tied -behind your backs, and there will be a rope leading from each of you to -the rear of my car. It will not be pleasant, my little ones. Sand and -exhaust fumes will get in your eyes, in your noses, and in your mouths. -You will stumble and fall and be dragged through the sand before we can -stop the car. The sand and the desert brush will peel the skin from -your bodies. We will set you on your feet again, and continue onward. -Presently, again you will stumble and fall, and again the sand will do -its work. Again, and again, and again—until your brains crack and you -beg me to listen to what you have to say."</p> - -<p>The German stopped short, and his smile was as cruel as the smile on -the face of Satan himself.</p> - -<p>"Yes, you will talk tonight, never fear!" he spat at them. Then he -jerked his head around to the major.</p> - -<p>"Have the guard take them back to their prison tent!" he barked. -"Perhaps when they have thought it over a bit, they will decide not to -make me force them to speak. I am no murderer, but victory comes first! -Take them away!"</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_FOURTEEN" id="CHAPTER_FOURTEEN">CHAPTER FOURTEEN</a><br /> - -<small><i>R.A.F. Lightning</i></small></h2> - - -<p>When the two boys were back in their prison tent, and the guard had -taken up his post, Freddy turned to Dave and looked at him out of sad -and apologetic eyes.</p> - -<p>"I'm sorry, Dave," he said. "I was a complete idiot, and I wouldn't -blame you for shooting me. I guess I just couldn't resist throwing it -into the blighter's face."</p> - -<p>"Maybe you know what you're talking about," Dave said with a hopeless -sigh, "but it's all just so much succotash to me. What gives, anyway? -How did you find out about their attack plans? And for cat's sake, when -did he find out we spoke German? Boy! Am I in a flat spin!"</p> - -<p>"Then you didn't notice it?" Freddy asked in surprise. "You didn't see -what I saw?"</p> - -<p>"No, guess I'm blind as a bat," Dave said. "But let's cut out the -guessing games. Tell me the works before I pass out with curiosity."</p> - -<p>"Why, it was one of those maps on the table in front of him," Freddy -said. "The one by his right hand. It was completely marked and showed -the whole plan of attack. It was hard reading the notes he'd made -because they were upside down to me. But I got most of them after a -while, and filled in the rest with guesses. At the end there he saw me -looking at the map and realized how I had found out so much. If only I -hadn't let him catch me. I had the beggar mighty worried. I'm sure I -had him actually believing that there was another plane with us, and -that it got back to Wavell's headquarters. Blast the luck, anyway!"</p> - -<p>"Well, I sure take the booby prize!" Dave groaned. "Sure, I saw the -maps, but I was just dope enough not to give them a thought. Old Freddy -Farmer with the hawk eye—and brains. But how come he figured you spoke -German?"</p> - -<p>"The maps, Dave, the maps!" Freddy said patiently. "All the notes -and stuff were in German. He realized at once that I had read and -understood them. Don't you see?"</p> - -<p>Dave groaned again and threw up his hands in a gesture of despair.</p> - -<p>"Look, Freddy," he said, "if I turn around will you give me a good -swift kick? Boy, am I slipping! Yeah, I guess you were crazy to select -me to come along with you on this trip. I'm a lot of help, I don't -think!"</p> - -<p>"Now, just cut that out!" Freddy snapped at him. "No one runs down -my best pal to my face, not even you. It was just by luck I happened -to notice the map, anyway. And look what small good it's done! That -cold-blooded beggar wasn't fooling us, Dave. He's just the type to do -what he says he'll do. And it's all my fault. If I'd only kept my mouth -shut."</p> - -<p>"It's your turn to lay off running down my best pal," Dave told with a -grin. "What's done is done, as they say. We've just got to figure some -way to beat him. One thing, anyway. We know the whole set-up now. Gosh! -If we could only get hold of that map and get out of here—"</p> - -<p>Dave let the rest trail off into silence and stared moodily out the -opened front of the tent. The Germans were making an inspection of -their equipment after the night's march across the desert. Fuel supply -trucks were being unloaded, and squads of soldiers were refueling the -tanks and armored cars and troop transports, while others were checking -engines and guns, and making sure that everything was in order.</p> - -<p>The two boys watched them for several moments, then suddenly Dave -leaned close to Freddy and spoke in a whisper.</p> - -<p>"We've got about one chance in a thousand, Freddy," he said, "maybe not -even that much of a chance. But we've got to do something, and do it -darn soon. Got any ideas, or suggestions?"</p> - -<p>"Not a one," the English youth replied instantly. "But I can tell you -have. What is it?"</p> - -<p>"While one of us keeps this guard busy," Dave said, "the other has got -to sneak over there to that fuel supply truck and touch off the gas and -Diesel oil it's carrying, and get back here. Then in the excitement -that follows, we've got to reach the headquarters tent, grab that map -and get away in the Messerschmitt. What do you think?"</p> - -<p>"I think it's like trying to fly to the moon," Freddy grunted. "But -that doesn't mean I'm not game to try it. Just how do you expect to -keep the guard busy while one of us sneaks over to that fuel truck?"</p> - -<p>Dave didn't answer at once. He sat watching the squads of German -soldiers move farther and farther along the line of trucks. Presently -they were hidden from view at the far end of the line. He touched -Freddy's arm, put a cautioning finger to his lips, and rose slowly -to his feet. Before the English youth could stop him, Dave had moved -forward with the speed of striking lightning. The guard had his back -to them and was staring out across the camouflaged desert camp for -a moment before resuming his pacing. In that split second of time -allowed, Dave Dawson acted. He flashed out his right hand and plucked -the guard's Luger from its belt holster before the German realized what -had happened.</p> - -<p>"Turn, and you're a dead man!" Dave warned him in German, and backed -into the tent.</p> - -<p>The guard checked his half turn and froze, the hands gripping his -Mauser rifle turning white at the knuckles.</p> - -<p>"Just keep walking up and down," Dave spoke to him in a steady, deadly -voice. "Go ahead and raise an alarm if you want to, but it won't do -<i>you</i> any good, see? Your pals may shoot us, but <i>you'll</i> be dead -before they can start shooting. Go ahead, now. Walk up and down some -more—and hold that rifle just like you're doing. <i>Barrel pointed up!</i>"</p> - -<p>As Dave held his breath, the guard hesitated a moment. Then his desire -to go on living won out. He started pacing up and down in front of the -prison tent, holding his rifle so that the barrel pointed to the sky.</p> - -<p>"Good grief!" Freddy breathed softly. "I never would have believed it -possible. That was wonderful, Dave. Phew! It was—it's left me weak as -a kitten. It—"</p> - -<p>"Then get strong, and pronto!" Dave ordered, and thrust the Luger into -his hands. "I'm on my way to the fuel truck. Shut up, and don't argue. -You keep that guard occupied. Don't let up on him for an instant. If -worse comes to worse—shoot and duck out the back of this tent and -head for the rear of the headquarters tent. Your shots will bring them -running, I hope, and we'll still have a chance. But watch the guard and -keep telling him how a bullet hurts. He's yellow, or he wouldn't have -folded up just now. Okay, I'm on my way. Luck to us both, pal!"</p> - -<p>Freddy started to open his mouth to protest, but Dave silenced him with -a quick shake of his head.</p> - -<p>"About time I did something for our team," he grunted, and moved toward -the front of the tent. "You just hold everything. Be right back."</p> - -<p>He took another step and flashed a searching look outside. The Germans -checking their equipment were well out of sight by now. As a matter -of fact, he didn't see a sign of a single German save the guard who -marched slowly up and down with eyes that were saucers of fear.</p> - -<p>"You're doing fine," Dave grunted at him in his own tongue. "Just keep -it up. My pal is the best shot in the British army. He could split your -backbone in two from that distance without half trying."</p> - -<p>The guard shivered slightly but did not turn his head. Dave threw a -final wink and a grin back at Freddy, and then went out of the tent and -off toward the left with the speed of a shell leaving the muzzle of -a gun. Legs working like piston rods, and body bent well forward, he -streaked across a fifty foot open stretch of sand to the safety of the -first of the parked tanks. There he halted for a brief instant, tore -off a large piece of his shirt and pulled an army clip of waterproof -matches from his pocket. Then he streaked forward again toward the -nearest fuel truck. Tins of gas and oil had been taken out and placed -on the ground. He grabbed hold of one and, working with the speed of -lightning, untwisted the cap and soaked his torn piece of shirt with -gas. Then he placed the piece of cloth close to the pile of tins. -Crouching down, he struck one of his matches, tossed the flame down -onto the gas-soaked strip of shirt cloth, spun around in a continuation -of the same movement and raced for dear life back toward the prison -tent.</p> - -<p>He was still several strides from the tent when the flames reached the -first of the gas tins. It exploded in a roar of sound, and brilliant -orange red fire leaped up into the sky. Even as Dave dashed into the -tent and snatched the Luger from Freddy's hand, a second and a third -tin of fuel exploded. Dave didn't take time out to watch the fireworks -display. As Freddy gaped at him open-mouthed, Dave twisted back toward -the guard, who stood staring dumb-eyed at the flames, and cracked him -back of the ear with the barrel of the Luger. The German slowly folded -up and dropped to the ground without a sound.</p> - -<p>"So he won't shoot when our backs are turned!" Dave barked at Freddy, -and dived for the rear of the tent. "Come on, and put plenty of speed -into your legs. It's make or break for us now!"</p> - -<p>The English youth needed no urging. He dived after Dave, and they both -squirmed out from under the rear side of the tent like a couple of -snakes fleeing a flaming jungle. By then the whole desert camp was in a -terrific uproar. Troops and officers were racing madly toward the fuel -truck, which was now a towering column of flame and pitch black smoke -that reached high up into the sky. Hoarse shouted orders flew thick and -fast, and the soldiers fell upon nearby equipment like mad demons and -tried to haul it farther away from the blazing inferno.</p> - -<p>All that Dave and Freddy saw out of the corners of their eyes as -they raced zigzagging toward the rear of the headquarters tent. They -actually passed German troops rushing toward the fire, but not one of -the enemy soldiers so much as gave them a glance. All eyes were riveted -on the towering column of flame and smoke.</p> - -<p>In less time than it takes to tell about it, Dave and Freddy had darted -and twisted around tanks and armored cars and reached the rear of the -headquarters tent. There they halted and strained their ears for any -sounds inside. It was impossible to tell if there was anybody inside, -however, because of the terrific din that rolled across the desert camp -in ever increasing waves of sound.</p> - -<p>Dave nodded to Freddy, gripped the Luger tightly, dropped to his knees -in the sand and whipped up the bottom edge of the tent canvas. One -look and wild joy flooded his face. Freddy saw that look and didn't -bother to ask questions. Seconds later both were inside the empty tent -and stuffing maps and papers inside their shirts. Another few seconds -and they started to turn around and skin out the way they had entered. -At that exact instant, however, a blurred figure came racing into the -tent. Dave saw the flash of a gun coming up and let his body drop. At -the same time he shoved Freddy with his free hand, and swung his Luger -and pulled the trigger with the other.</p> - -<p>Two shots blended together as one. Death hissed past an inch from -Dave's nose and bored a hole in the rear wall of the tent. The blurred -figure screamed with pain, dropped his gun and clutched wildly for his -right shoulder. It was not until then Dave recognized the pain-twisted -face of the German major.</p> - -<p>"For the two punching bags you made out of us!" Dave barked at him in -German, and then practically slid out under the rear tent flap on his -stomach.</p> - -<p>Leaping to his feet, he paused long enough to give Freddy a hand up, -and then led the way at top speed toward the extreme rear of the camp. -Once he reached it, he swerved sharply to the right and ran along -behind a line of parked troop trucks. Presently he pulled up to a -panting halt beside the last truck. The burning fuel truck was now far -to his right and to his front. Directly in front of him, though, and -not fifty yards away, was the Messerschmitt One-Ten. There wasn't a -soul near it. Every jack man in the camp was busy fighting tooth and -nail to stop the blaze of the fuel truck from spreading. Dave reached -back and gripped Freddy's arm.</p> - -<p>"I'll dive for the controls," he said, talking fast, "You dive for the -rear pit and the guns. They've stopped the engines, but I'll kick them -into life, and taxi away from here. You hold them back with your guns -in case they start after us. Can't taxi too fast because of the sand. -And I don't dare take off at once. Want to give the engines a little -time to get turning over sweet. Okay?"</p> - -<p>"Okay!" Freddy breathed. "And you'll get the Victoria Cross for this, -if I've got anything to say about it."</p> - -<p>"Just the flight deck of the Victory will be okay by me," Dave said -grimly. "Right! Here we go!"</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_FIFTEEN" id="CHAPTER_FIFTEEN">CHAPTER FIFTEEN</a><br /> - -<small><i>Vulture Wings</i></small></h2> - - -<p>The fifty yards to the unguarded Messerschmitt One-Ten seemed more like -fifty miles to Dave as he and Freddy sprinted across the sand. His -heart hammered against his ribs, and not just because of his running -efforts. With every step he expected to hear the roaring challenge and -the sharp bark of rifles and Lugers speeding bullets toward him. With -every step, also, a hundred wild, crazy thoughts flashed through his -brain. Was the Messerschmitt in condition to fly? Was there enough gas -in the tanks to take them to British held ground? Would the engines -start? Would he be able to make a good desert take-off? Hundreds and -hundreds of wild thoughts, each one stabbing his brain like a pin point -of fire.</p> - -<p>And then, suddenly, they had reached the German plane and had vaulted -into the cockpit. Dave's fingers fairly flew to the starter buttons, -the throttles, and other gadgets all marked in German. A soul torturing -eternity dragged by, and then the twin 1150 hp. Daimler-Benz engines -roared into life. The instant he heard the first peep out of the -engines, Dave kicked off the right wheel brake, gunned the engines -slightly and started the One-Ten moving around to the left. Every ounce -of his flying skill was in his fingertips as he nursed the throttles -and got the plane to moving faster and faster. Whether they had been -seen, whether they were already being pursued and fired upon, he did -not know. He didn't even bother to find out. He simply concentrated -every bit of his effort on taxiing the Messerschmitt away from the -desert camp and "nursing" the throttles so they would get maximum power -out of the engines.</p> - -<p>One moment—two—three—Finally the One-Ten was fairly skipping across -the surface of the sand. A high dune rose up straight in front of Dave. -He gulped, swallowed and pulled back hard on the control stick. The -wheels seemed to stick to the sand for one last moment, then the plane -practically leaped into the air, and the dangerous sand dune rushed -by underneath. Dave whistled, wiped sweat from his face, and twisted -around in the seat to look back. The desert camp was rapidly falling -away and down. The column of flame and smoke from the burning fuel -truck still mounted into the sky. He saw several other tongues of flame -spitting his way, and realized at once that they were Germans trying to -knock them out of the sky with rifle and machine gun fire. The bullets, -however, weren't even coming close. And Freddy, hunched over the rear -guns, wasn't even bothering to pull the triggers.</p> - -<p>A moment later the English youth let go of his guns and turned front to -grin happily at Dave.</p> - -<p>"Clean as a whistle, Dave!" he cried. "The beggars are only just now -realizing what happened. Good grief, don't ever remind me that this -actually happened, because I won't believe you. Talk about your fairy -stories! This is certainly one nobody would ever swallow."</p> - -<p>"Oh, that was child's play!" Dave chuckled, and made a mocking bravado -gesture. "You should see me when I'm really hot, pal. Heck! That was -just fun. Let's go back and do it all over again just to make them -madder, huh?"</p> - -<p>Freddy made a face and stabbed a finger to the north.</p> - -<p>"Just get going <i>that</i> way, and quickly, my friend," he said, "or I'll -boot you out of that seat and take the controls myself. No, thanks! -I've jolly well had all I want of the nasty Nazis for a while!"</p> - -<p>Dave laughed and sticked the Messerschmitt out of its roaring power -zoom, then banked around toward the north. He took one last look back -at the desert camp that was now little more than a darkish patch on the -distant desert, and then turned front and gave all of his attention to -the instrument panel. The things he noticed brought a happy smile to -his lips. The tanks were full, the engines were performing perfectly, -and there was not the slightest indication that the plane would not -carry them safely to British-occupied Bengazi.</p> - -<p>Fate, however, had decided that such was not to be their good fortune. -Fate, assisted by the radio back at the desert camp, and three -Messerschmitt 109 single seater fighters sent streaking away from the -nearest Nazi air base. Fate, plus the marvel of radio, plus the speed -of Messerschmitt 109s. What Dave's instruments told him really didn't -have anything to do with it at all.</p> - -<p>The first indication that all was not to be nice, pleasant sailing came -at the end of some thirty-five minutes, when Freddy suddenly banged him -on the shoulder and pointed up and off to the left. He looked in that -direction and saw the three dots high-tailing down out of the dawn sky -with the speed of comets gone absolutely crazy.</p> - -<p>"Company, Dave!" Freddy shouted. "The blighters got on the radio, of -course, and contacted Tripoli air base. Looks like we're in for a bit -of trouble."</p> - -<p>"Not Tripoli," Dave said with a shake of his head. "Those birds -couldn't have come this far so soon. Sure, they probably got on the -radio, but to some spot much closer. If you ask me, it looks as if -they've started moving the planes up closer. Set up a few emergency -fields out in the desert so they wouldn't have to fly so far to give -air support to the ground forces."</p> - -<p>"That's probably it," Freddy agreed. "But right or wrong, it doesn't -make any difference now. Think you can skip past before they catch up -with us?"</p> - -<p>Dave stared at the three dots coming down from the left and then -glanced ahead at the seemingly endless expanse of desert. It stretched -to the north as far as he could see, and there wasn't a single sign of -any British outpost or desert village garrison. He couldn't tell for -sure, though, because a strange copperish color was crawling up over -the northern horizon.</p> - -<p>"No, we can't fly away from them," he told Freddy with a shake of his -head. "We'll have to make a running fight of it, and hope for the -best. Okay, Freddy, they're asking for it, so let's give it to the -bums."</p> - -<p>Freddy made no answer. He went back to his guns and checked them to -make sure everything was in order. Dave fed the two Daimler-Benz -engines every ounce of gas they would take and eased the nose up to get -as much altitude as possible before the three Messerschmitt 109s could -close in from the left and give battle. The lull before the battle -lasted less than a minute. Flying by hand, Dave kept his eyes glued -on the diving attackers, and was set and ready the instant he saw the -little stabbing tongues of flame dart out from the nose of each German -plane.</p> - -<p>In that instant he acted, and at lightning speed. He tossed the -Messerschmitt One-Ten up over on wingtip and pulled it around in -a steep bank and headed straight for the three One-Nines. It was -obviously not what the German pilots had expected. They had undoubtedly -counted on Dave to wheel around the other way and attempt to race away -from them. So when, instead, they saw the "victim" plane flash around -toward them and open up with a withering fire from the nose guns and -two 20-mm. cannon, they broke diving formation at once, and each pilot -tried frantically to skid out into the clear.</p> - -<p>Two of the planes succeeded in doing just that. The center plane of -the formation, however, was doomed. Dave had it square in his sights, -and a blind man could not have missed from that distance. His savage -fire covered the German plane like a tent. The craft staggered forward -a short distance, then suddenly fell off on one wing and went down, -leaving behind a long trail of oily black smoke.</p> - -<p>"Let that teach you to stay home where you belong!" Dave shouted -impulsively, and pulled up for more altitude.</p> - -<p>"And you, too, my little Jerry!"</p> - -<p>Freddy's words were drowned out by the yammer of his guns. Dave jerked -his head around in time to see a second Messerschmitt appear to fly -right into an invisible meat chopper. The left wing came off and broke -up in a hundred pieces. The fuselage buckled just in back of the -cockpit, and the right wing crumpled like so much tin foil. Never had -Dave seen a plane come apart so completely in the air, and he gazed -pop-eyed at the shower of debris slithering downward.</p> - -<p>"Man, oh, man!" he gasped aloud. "What are you throwing at him, Freddy? -Naval shells?"</p> - -<p>"Wondering, myself!" the English youth called back in an awed voice. -"Good grief, that ship must have been made of cardboard!"</p> - -<p>"Or maybe china!" Dave added. "Gee, I never—"</p> - -<p>The savage chatter of German Rheinmettal-Borsig aerial machine guns -didn't give him a chance to finish. The third Messerschmitt One-Nine -had cut around in a flash turn and was boring in with all guns blazing. -A handful of death slammed into Dave's plane, and he felt the One-Ten -shake and shiver under the savage impact of the shower or bullets. He -jumped on the left rudder with every ounce of his strength and slammed -the plane around in a turn that made a pinkish haze rise up before his -eyes. Just the same he held the plane in the turn as long as he dared. -Then, just before the terrific turning force would have rolled his -eyes back and made him temporarily blind, he eased out and zoomed for -altitude. Five hundred feet higher he flattened off at the top of the -zoom, banked to the left and looked down and back for a sign of the -Messerschmitt One-Nine.</p> - -<p>It wasn't there, gun spewing up after him, however, and he swallowed -in relief. That surprise attack had come much too close for comfort, -and he was positive that had the German followed up his advantage one -Dave Dawson, and one Freddy Farmer, would have been in a mighty bad fix -right then. Then Freddy's hand rapped him on the shoulder.</p> - -<p>"Don't look down, look west, Dave!" the English youth called out. -"There he goes, and bad luck to him, I say. The blighter took twenty -years off my life. I could have reached out and caught his bullets as -they went by."</p> - -<p>"Reach out?" Dave echoed, and watched the attacking plane race farther -and farther westward. "Boy! If I hadn't ducked I <i>would</i> have caught -them with my <i>head</i>! Well, it's nice the guy decided he'd had enough, -anyway. Now, we can—"</p> - -<p>But it suddenly wasn't so nice after all. The German pilot had gone -racing away, but he had left his calling card. And the gods of war, -wherever they were sitting huddled together, laughed with glee at the -unfortunate turn of events. The right engine (right outboard engine) -started sputtering out its story that it was all through for the day. -Dave instantly cut the ignition and throttle to prevent the possibility -of fire. With the right engine gone, the force of the left outboard -engine tried to veer the ship around in that direction, and Dave was -forced to put on a lot of opposite rudder to keep the plane flying -straight.</p> - -<p>That, however, didn't help much. With one engine completely dead, the -plane began to lose altitude slowly. Even with the left outboard -engine running full blast, the Messerschmitt One-Ten became logy in -the air, and it was all Dave could do to keep it on an even keel, and -stop it from whipping over and down into a spin. Presently, after he -had almost lost control a couple of times, he was forced to nose down -slightly and keep the nose down. He turned around and shook his head -sadly at Freddy's bitter expression.</p> - -<p>"This doesn't seem to be our lucky day, either," he said. "We have a -little altitude, but not much. In ten minutes or so we'll be down so -low we'll have to land. These jobs just won't fly on one engine. Would -you like to take a stroll on the nice desert, my little man?"</p> - -<p>Freddy groaned aloud and flung a look of hate down at the stretches of -desert sand below.</p> - -<p>"If I come out of this alive," he declared in harsh tones, "I'll shoot -the blighter who even mentions the word, sand, to me. Well, tough luck -for us, Dave. Thank goodness, though, that beggar got scared and went -barging on home. I fancy he'd be enjoying himself a lot right now, if -he had hung around."</p> - -<p>"Being a Nazi, he sure would," Dave nodded. "Crippled ships are -their favorite dish. It was the same in the First World War, too, I -understand. What a race of people! But, darn it, this desert landing -burns me up. And I don't mean that as a wise-crack. It's getting to be -a habit with me. I probably won't know what to do if I ever see a real -airdrome or carrier flight deck again. I wonder how far we are from the -British lines."</p> - -<p>"A long, long walk over this blasted desert, I'm afraid," Freddy said -gloomily. "And we've got to get there long before dawn tomorrow, too, -or the information we have won't be worth much. It will take a few -hours at least for the British garrisons west of Tobruk, at Derna and -Bengazi, to fall back to the main body, or they'll be cut off by the -Germans blocking the way at Tobruk."</p> - -<p>"That's right," Dave said, and guided the plane downward. "And that's -exactly what the Nazis plan to do to make their attack a complete -success: smash right through the middle of the British defenses; cut -British strength in half, and then mop up a half at a time. But, darn -it, we can't let them get away with that even if we have to run all the -way to Tobruk, or some British outpost that has a radio. No, darn it, -we'll beat those Nazis yet. We're not through, and all washed up."</p> - -<p>"Well, we are with this airplane, anyway," Freddy grunted. "Here comes -that blasted desert. Oh, how I hate the very sight of sand! But don't -think I'm giving up hope and quitting, Dave. Don't crack us up. I'm -just talking aloud, you know."</p> - -<p>"It'll be a rainy day when you up and quit, Freddy," Dave said with a -chuckle. "Don't worry. I feel just the same way. I could chew nails -plenty right now. Oh well, hold your hats, children."</p> - -<p>Dave cut the ignition of the left outboard engine, leveled off just -over the sand, and then let the plane sink down to one of the finest -landings he had ever made in his flying career. When he had braked the -plane to a stop, he sank back in in the seat and sighed heavily.</p> - -<p>"And I'd go and waste a nice landing like that way out here!" he -grunted. "Well, I guess—Hey! <i>Hey, Freddy!</i> Look over there! That -cloud of sand. What in thunder is it?"</p> - -<p>To the right and far ahead, a cloud of swirling sand was moving swiftly -toward them. Both boys stared wide-eyed as the approaching cloud seemed -to grow bigger and bigger and spread up to the sides. Then suddenly -they saw dull colored objects under the cloud and moving over the sand. -Freddy found his tongue first.</p> - -<p>"Tanks or armored cars heading for us!" he cried. "Blast them, I'm -jolly well going to make them pay for taking us prisoners. I won't just -walk into their waiting arms this time!"</p> - -<p>As the English youth shouted the words, he stood up in the pit and -swung his mounted guns around to bear on the rapidly approaching cloud -of sand. Dave reached back and grabbed him by the arm.</p> - -<p>"Hold it, Freddy!" he cried. "That would be just plain dumb. We've got -more than just ourselves to think about. It would be just plain foolish -to fight it out. They can blow us right out of the desert without half -trying. Then where'd we be? Keep your shirt on, and just keep thinking -of the maps and papers you've got stuffed under it."</p> - -<p>The English youth's eyes blazed with anger, and he hesitated a moment -before he slowly dropped his hands away from the guns.</p> - -<p>"Yes, of course you're right," he mumbled. "Getting ourselves killed -would simply spoil everything. But, good grief, what I wouldn't give -to—"</p> - -<p>"Freddy, shut up, and look!" Dave interrupted in a wild voice. "They're -armored cars, but they're not German! Take a look! See? See the type? -Those are from a British unit. They're English! For cat's sake start -waving your arm before they start pegging bullets at us. This is a -Nazi plane, you know. And maybe those guys don't feel like taking -prisoners today!"</p> - -<p>Freddy Farmer didn't bother wasting breath agreeing. He had seen for -himself. He popped up onto his feet, as did Dave also. And together -they started waving their arms at the most comforting sight they had -seen for many long hours—British made and British manned armored cars -of the desert!</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_SIXTEEN" id="CHAPTER_SIXTEEN">CHAPTER SIXTEEN</a><br /> - -<small><i>Desert Wrath</i></small></h2> - - -<p>The British desert patrol consisted of four cars led by a small scout -car that flew a Staff pennant from one of the front fenders. The scout -car came straight at the landed Messerschmitt, while the patrol cars -circled around to the right and the left and came to a halt in a ring -about the plane. Two officers were riding in the scout car—a major, -and a lieutenant who sat at the wheel. When the car stopped, the major -jumped out and ran toward the plane, one hand on his holstered service -automatic. He was tall and broad-shouldered and was tanned a deep -mahogany from many weeks and months under the blazing desert sun. The -decoration and campaign ribbons on his tunic showed that he had served -his King in the last war as well as in this one.</p> - -<p>"Don't shoot, sir, we're English!" Freddy shouted, and scrambled down -from the plane.</p> - -<p>The major stopped dead and stared at them, wide-eyed. Then he took a -cautious step forward, his right hand still resting on the butt of his -gun.</p> - -<p>"What the devil?" he gasped. "Infantry officers flying a plane? What's -this all about?"</p> - -<p>"Pilot Officers Dawson and Farmer from the Aircraft Carrier Victory, -sir," Freddy said. "We've just escaped from the Nazis far to the south, -and were on our way to G.H.Q. when we were attacked by a trio of Nazi -pilots. We got two of them, but the third beggar got our engine and we -were forced to come down. Thank God you saw us, sir."</p> - -<p>"Thank God we didn't open fire on you," the major grunted. "We don't -care much for Nazi planes. But what's this about escaping? Nazis far to -the south? That's rot! The desert's bare as can be."</p> - -<p>"That's what you think!" Dave cried before he could check his tongue. -Then, blushing, "Sorry, sir. I mean, it looks that way, but the desert -is practically alive with them. Freddy, let's show the major our stuff, -and tell him the whole story. You tell him."</p> - -<p>Just about six minutes later the major, who said he was Major Alden, -of the 41st Armored Division, was probably the most amazed and -dumbfounded person in all Libya, and Egypt as well. He could hardly -take his eyes off the maps and papers the boys pulled out from under -their shirts and spread out on one wing of the Messerschmitt One-Ten. -The other officer in the scout car, a Lieutenant Baxby, joined them, -and he too was struck speechless.</p> - -<p>"Bless my hat, bless my hat!" Major Alden kept mumbling. "The -whole blasted plan of attack. Units, numbers, gun strength, air, -navy—everything. Great guns! I'll never be able to believe it!"</p> - -<p>"But it's true, sir," Dave spoke up. "That Nazi colonel actually told -us what he planned. He was shooting off his—I mean, he was boasting. -Like Nazis do, because he thought he had us for keeps. Can you give us -a lift to the nearest radio post, sir? The sooner we notify G.H.Q. the -better it will be, I think."</p> - -<p>"Eh, give you a lift?" the major echoed looking up from the maps and -military papers. "I'll jolly well drive you there myself, straight to -General Maitland at Tobruk H.Q. We can make it by just before sundown -if we hop along now. Great guns! The blighters would have wiped out the -lot of us in no time at all. God bless the R.A.F., I say!"</p> - -<p>The major gathered up the stuff on the wing and spun around to his -junior officer.</p> - -<p>"Take over the patrol, Baxby," he ordered. "Ride in Sergeant Tucker's -car. Head back to the post at once, and have all other patrols called -in immediately. Then move back to Tobruk to await orders. Got it?"</p> - -<p>"Right you are, sir," the lieutenant said.</p> - -<p>"Then off with you," the major ordered. "Come along, you two R.A.F. -lads. Blast it, if this isn't like a cinema thriller!"</p> - -<p>Motioning the two boys to climb in back, the major slid in behind the -wheel, shifted gears and sent the light, fast scout car careening -around and toward the north. The violent movement pitched Freddy and -Dave down onto the floor, and by the time they had scrambled up onto -the little stools again and were clutching the two mounted machine -guns for support, the car was like a brown streak of lightning ripping -across the surface of the sand and leaving a swirling trail behind.</p> - -<p>"Gosh!" Dave shouted above the roar of the engine. "If we had wings -this darned thing would take off!"</p> - -<p>"Dashed if I don't think we already have!" Freddy called back. "Look -over there to the right, Dave! Look at the color of the sky."</p> - -<p>To the east the sky was filled with a dull copperish haze. It spread -out to the side for miles and towered high into the heavens. It was as -though a huge expanse of copper screen mesh had been spread across the -blue of the Libyan sky. At its highest point the sun was perched like a -brass ball on the top of a flag pole.</p> - -<p>"Maybe it's going to rain," Dave suggested. "Maybe rain clouds are that -color in this neck of the woods."</p> - -<p>"Rain in March?" Freddy snorted. "The rainy season's long over before -then. That's some kind of a desert storm, I think."</p> - -<p>Freddy let go of the machine gun mounting long enough to lean forward -toward the front seat.</p> - -<p>"What's that sky mean off to the right, sir?" He shouted the question.</p> - -<p>The major took his eyes off the desert ahead just long enough to flash -a snap glance toward the copperish-colored sky to the east. As he saw -it, he started slightly, and his sandy-colored brows came together in a -frown.</p> - -<p>"Sand storm!" he called back over his shoulder. "And if it catches up -with us it'll be very nasty indeed. That's a good one, too. Getting -close to the time of year when they kick up quite a bit. If we can't -outrace it, duck low and stay there. The stuff's like powdered glass. -Dash it all! Even the weather's fighting for the Nazi. I—"</p> - -<p>The dreaded snarl of aerial machine gun fire cut off the rest of the -major's statement. Dave whirled around and stared upward and to the -rear. He saw the diving plane at once. It was a Messerschmitt One-Nine. -As a matter of fact, he was positive it was the same One-Nine that -had quit that last air battle and gone racing off home. Obviously, -though, the pilot had come back, sighted the One-Ten on the ground, and -the scout car speeding across the desert to the north. He had added -things up to get the right answer, and was now making a final effort to -prevent valuable information from reaching British headquarters.</p> - -<p>"The bum has come back, Freddy!" Dave shouted, and swung one of the -machine guns around on its swivel mounting. "He wants some more, so -let's give it to him!"</p> - -<p>Freddy Farmer didn't bother wasting breath replying. He simply nodded, -swung the other gun around and lined up the diving plane in his sights. -A split second later both boys were sending savage bursts of bullets -up at the diving plane. The Messerschmitt did not swerve off, however, -even though Dave could see their tracers slapping right into the plane. -The German pilot was determined to do his worst while he lived. He -came right on downward, engine howling a song of mighty power, and all -of his guns spewing out streaks of nickel-jacketed lead bullets.</p> - -<p>"That guy sure can take it!" Dave shouted as he continued to pump -bullets up at the plane. "Maybe he's gone nuts and plans to dive right -down into us."</p> - -<p>"Let him!" Freddy shouted back without taking his eyes off the plane. -"It will be the last dive that beggar makes, anyway!"</p> - -<p>"And a lot of good that will do <i>us</i>!" Dave cried. "We'll—<i>Hey!</i>"</p> - -<p>The speeding scout car had suddenly careened around crazily to the -left. The violent movement tore Dave's hands from his machine gun and -flung him heavily up against Freddy. He regained his balance as soon as -possible, shot a questioning look toward the major at the wheel, let -out a bellow of alarm and dived forward.</p> - -<p>"Keep at that plane, Freddy!" he shouted, "The major's been hit—and -bad!"</p> - -<p>It was even worse than that. The major had received a burst of bullets -straight through the back of his head. He was stone dead and slumped -over the wheel of the car. Bracing himself as best he could, Dave -hauled the limp body to the side with one hand and clutched wildly for -the wheel with the other, and somehow managed to straighten out the car -before the terrific turning motion sent it off balance and spinning -over and over across the surface of the sand.</p> - -<p>The instant he had the car straightened out, he pushed and shoved the -dead major out of the seat and scrambled in behind the wheel himself. -In his ears was the continuous yammer of the Messerschmitt's guns, -and the retaliating chatter of Freddy Farmer's single gun in back. He -didn't dare turn his head for a look, however. He kept his eyes front -and made the car zigzag as much as he could to throw off the diving -pilot's aim.</p> - -<p>Suddenly there came a wild shout of triumph from Freddy Farmer's lips.</p> - -<p>"That will teach you, you blasted blighter!" Freddy roared. "Now you -can't go back home!"</p> - -<p>Hardly had the last reached Dave's ears before he heard the sickening -sound that a plane makes when it dives engine full out into the -ground—a sickening sound no words can describe. An instant later there -was the roar of the gas tanks exploding, and as Dave jerked his head -around to risk a quick look, he saw a fountain of flame and smoke that -shot upward. Impulsively he eased off the scout car's speed a bit, and -took a deep breath.</p> - -<p>"Thanks, Freddy!" he called back over his shoulder. "I knew you could -do it. Poor Major Alden! What a tough break for him. Gosh! I almost -wish he hadn't spotted us. Then this wouldn't have happened to him. -Can you lift him in back, Freddy, and then come up front here with me? -We'll have to use your pocket compass for a course. I've lost mine, and -the burst that got the major raised heck with his dash compass. Can you -lift him back, or do you want me to stop and give you a hand?"</p> - -<p>"Stop nothing!" Freddy cried in wild alarm. "Drive like blazes, Dave! -Look at that sand storm! It's almost on top of us. You keep driving. -I'll get him back here all right!"</p> - -<p>As Dave turned his head and looked to the east, his heart zoomed up -into his throat. The coppery sky had changed to dull black, streaked -with shafts of swirling yellowish white. In that instant the whole -world seemed to stand still. All sound ceased, save the roar of the -scout car's engine. And its sound was twice as loud because of the -sudden silencing of everything else.</p> - -<p>"Gosh!" Dave whispered in awe as his eyes stayed glued to the hovering -menace aloft that seemed ready to spring upon them in the next split -second. "Holy smoke! Like the end of the world, or something. It's— -Hey, Freddy, what's the humming sound? No, more like a whine, I guess."</p> - -<p>Freddy didn't have time to offer his guess. A low hum that seemed to be -sweeping across the desert suddenly rose up to a blood-curdling scream -that blasted the surrounding silence to the four corners of the earth. -The lull and the silence were no more. In the bat of an eyelid the fury -of a Libyan desert storm swept down upon the boys in full force. The -car shuddered, and rocked, and threatened to roll over on its side from -the terrific impact of the wind driven sand clouds slashing against it. -Dave bent low and clung to the bucking wheel with every inch of his -strength.</p> - -<p>Daylight was no more. All about him was a swirling, twisting, screaming -inferno of shadowy darkness. Billions and billions of tiny pin points -of pain slashed at his face and hands. They even seemed to dart through -his uniform and practically scrape the skin from his body. It was -impossible to keep his eyes open to see where he was driving. If he -did, he would be blinded in the flash of a split second. All he could -do was keep his head bent low, his face shielded from the furious -onslaught of the desert storm, and hold the wheel as steady as he could -and pray that he was steering a northerly course.</p> - -<p>As the fury of the storm increased, and the high, shrill scream of the -wind seemed like daggers of fire in his ears, he was tempted to swing -the car around and race with the storm in the hope of outdistancing it. -He checked the urge, however, because of the possible consequences. If -they once lost direction in this storm, it would be all over for them. -True, they had Freddy's compass and they could always find north. But -from where? That was the point. If he tried to run with the storm, -he might get so twisted up that he'd be racing back to the south. -Then when the storm passed they would be farther than ever from their -destination.</p> - -<p>No, it was best to hold a general northerly course now, and pray they -could live out the storm. At least the swirling sand would not choke up -the engine and put it out of commission. That was their greatest fear, -and as Dave strained his ears to catch the roar of the engine, and to -feel it by the vibration of the wheel, his heart stood still, and the -blood was so much sluggish ice water in his veins.</p> - -<p>The car's engine, however, had been adequately protected for just such -a situation as it now faced. And it kept roaring out its song of power -that spun the wheels and sent the car rocketing forward slam bang into -the teeth of the storm. Seconds totaled up to minutes, and the minutes -mounted up one on top of the other until Dave felt as though he had -been plowing through the raging desert inferno since the very day he -was born. Wave after wave of stinging pain swept over his body. Every -muscle and bone ached. His head felt three times its size and throbbed -unmercifully. It was like racing down a long black tunnel filled with -roaring thunder, for he dared not open his eyes. He wondered how -Freddy was making out. He didn't dare take his hands from the wheel. -Nor did he dare open his mouth to call out. His words would not only -go unheard, but he would also instantly get a mouthful of stinging -wind-swirled sand.</p> - -<p>There was just one thing, and one thing alone to do: hang on hard to -the wheel to keep the car traveling a straight course to the north.</p> - -<p>Swirling sand, screaming wind, and a hundred new aches and pains -attacking his body every minute. Dave's mind became a spinning blurr, a -blank. Fighting instinct kept him clutching the wheel and guiding the -scout car ever northward. Fighting instinct and a will-power of iron -refused to permit him to brake the car to a halt and sink exhausted -down onto the floor of the car out of the swirling sand and the -cutting wind. He lost all track of time. Time even ceased to exist. It -was as though the howling, screaming sand storm had always been about -him, and always would be. There was no end. Everything would be like -this forever and ever.</p> - -<p>"Dave! Dave, come out of it! Dave, wake up. The storm's over. It's -gone. Dave, look at me. Look at me!"</p> - -<p>From a thousand miles away he heard Freddy Farmer's voice droning in -his ears. His pal was punching his shoulder, grabbing hold of him and -shaking him violently. Through sand-burned eyelids he stared fixedly at -a limitless expanse of desert stretching out ahead of him. Suddenly, -something seemed to let go of his brain and he realized what it all -meant.</p> - -<p>The car wasn't moving. The engine had stopped. The desert storm had -passed on and was now blotting out the sun in the western sky. The -desert was the desert again. He turned his head slowly and stared at -Freddy. It was like looking at a ghost. The English youth was covered -with fine white sand dust from head to toe. It was caked in his hair, -caked on his face, and was sticking like a layer of white glue to his -tattered uniform.</p> - -<p>"Dave, are you all right?" Freddy gasped, and shook him again. "You've -been driving for fifteen minutes as though you were hypnotized, just -clinging to that wheel for dead life and staring straight ahead. I had -to switch off the ignition to stop the car. You were absolutely deaf to -every word I said. Are you all right?"</p> - -<p>"Sure, I'm okay," Dave heard his own voice say. "Gosh! Driving with -my eyes open? Holy smoke! The last thing I remember was driving blind -with my eyes shut and my head ducked down. And, hey, it must be late -afternoon. That storm lasted for hours. Wonder where we are?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know," Freddy said. "But we're headed north, anyway. The sun's -over there on our left, so we must be headed north. Phew! How you were -able to keep on driving through that inferno I don't know. I ducked -down on the floor, and just didn't have the strength to get up and give -you a hand. You must be made of steel, Dave!"</p> - -<p>"I sure don't feel as if I were right now," Dave said, and grinned, -stiff-lipped. "But let's get going again. The ground seems to rise up -quite a bit just ahead there. Maybe we'll see something on the other -side. Boy, oh boy, do I hope it's something besides desert."</p> - -<p>"If it isn't, I swear I'll go stark raving mad," Freddy muttered. "If -I never see a desert again that'll be much too soon."</p> - -<p>"You and me both," Dave grunted and started the engine again. "So cross -your fingers, Freddy, and pray hard. Here we go for the top of that -rise!"</p> - -<p>It took ten minutes to reach the top of the high point of desert, but -every second of those ten minutes was a lifetime of torturing suspense -to Dave and Freddy. Neither of them spoke a word, but the same question -stood out in letters of fire in their brains. What was beyond the rise -of ground? For the last fifty yards Dave fed every ounce of gas to the -pounding engine that it would take, and the car fairly streaked over -the sand. Then finally they roared up and onto the crest. Dave slammed -on the brakes, and sat motionless, unable to utter a word. Emotion ran -riot within him, and the hot tears of inexpressible joy stung the backs -of his eyes. Freddy threw both arms about him and hugged him like a -long lost brother.</p> - -<p>"There it is, Dave!" the English youth cried wildly. "The good old -Union Jack flying from the pole. The British flag. That's Tobruk, Dave. -I recognize it from pictures. Tobruk. You hit it on the nose, Dave. -Right on the nose!"</p> - -<p>"Tobruk!" Dave whispered softly. "Tobruk, and—and I'll never forget -how good you look as long as I live. Never!"</p> - -<p>"The end of the trail, and in time!" Freddy breathed, and unashamed -tears of joy streaked the caked sand on his cheeks.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_SEVENTEEN" id="CHAPTER_SEVENTEEN">CHAPTER SEVENTEEN</a><br /> - -<small><i>Claws of the British Lion</i></small></h2> - - -<p>A continuous roaring thunder that seemed to shake the entire world -greeted the new Libyan dawn. The roaring thunder of war on the land, -in the air, and on the sea. Thanks to Dave Dawson and Freddy Farmer, -the British Middle East High Command had been warned in time to call -in its outpost forces and concentrate them into a swift mobile force -that streaked out to smash hard at the enemy forces stealing in for a -surprise attack that never took place.</p> - -<p>On land the British forces struck the middle and both flanks of -the enemy desert forces and sent them reeling back into the desert -scattered and completely disorganized, and suffering terrific -casualties. To the west at El Aghelia, and Bengazi, other Nazi-Italian -units found nothing but small British rear guard units that made them -pay far more for every foot of ground they captured than that foot of -ground was worth. It was the same at many other points, too. Instead -of being surprised, it was General Wavell's armies that surprised the -Axis units. They weren't where the Nazi and Italians had fully expected -them to be. They were like ghost armies that faded out of sight, and -then suddenly materialized on a Nazi flank to crush a tank company -as though they were so many toys, and to spread terror and complete -befuddlement in the enemy ranks.</p> - -<p>In the air every available R.A.F. plane had been hurled into the -battle. Carefully guarded Nazi fuel supply truck units and ammunition -trains and armored car columns were blasted into eternity by the rain -of bombs and bullets showered down from R.A.F. wings. Nazi and Italian -planes were shot down like flies. Numbers made no more difference to -the R.A.F. boys on the wing than numbers meant to the brave-hearted, -two-fisted fighting British, and Australian, and New Zealand and South -African soldiers on the ground. They gave ground, yes, but they left -nothing worth the holding. And the Axis forces paid one of the highest -prices in history for stretches of useless hot desert land.</p> - -<p>On the sea, units of the Mediterranean fleet were doing their share, -too. Italian navy ships sent to take part in the surprise Axis attack -were caught cold by John Bull's sailors, and were scattered about the -blue waters of the Mediterranean like helpless chunks of steel. Not -a single Italian naval shell was fired ashore into the ranks of the -British troops. The Italians didn't have the chance to fire a single -shell. The British sailors caught them in a perfect trap and plastered -them from bow to stern with screaming shells. In a couple of hours -there wasn't a single Italian ship in sight off the Libyan coast. Those -that had not gone down under the waves were scurrying like terrified -ducks for the safety of their bases in Naples and in Taranto, leaving -behind the British navy in supreme command of Libyan waters.</p> - -<p>In one of the R.A.F. planes that roared above the raging war inferno -that stretched from El Aghelia in the west to Bardia and Sollum in the -east, were Dave Dawson and Freddy Farmer. They were still caked with -sand, and they still wore their tattered uniforms. And they were dead -tired and practically all in. But not for all the gold in the world, -or all the discipline in the world, would they have remained on the -ground inactive during this great conflict in the middle East. The -high ranking officers of British G.H.Q. had suggested, begged, and -practically demanded that they go to a hospital in Tobruk, and place -themselves under a doctor's care at once. But arguments, threats, and -demands had simply fallen on deaf ears. In the end, and with frank -admiration glowing in his eyes, General Maitland had granted permission -for them to take a plane from one of the nearby R.A.F. bases and go -aloft for an hour or so to watch the gigantic battle. At the end of -an hour, however, they were to fly out to sea to the Victory, whose -position had been given to them.</p> - -<p>"Five minutes more, Dave!" Freddy shouted above the roar of their -engine. "Think we can get just one more Heinkel bomber before we head -for the Victory?"</p> - -<p>Dave turned in the cockpit, grinned at him, and shook his head.</p> - -<p>"Boy, what a hog for air scrapping you are!" he cried. "But nix, no -more. We more or less promised the general we wouldn't get too close to -the scrapping—just take a look-see around. Instead we tore in and got -us a Nazi apiece. But two's enough. I haven't got half a dozen bullets -left. Besides, this isn't our show, really. The other fellows deserve -their innings. Also, I've suddenly got a yen for the flight deck of the -Victory. What say? Shall we let these guys have their fun without us -butting in, and buzz home to the Victory?"</p> - -<p>Freddy cast a sad glance about the sky swarming with British and Axis -planes, then sighed heavily and nodded.</p> - -<p>"Right you are," he said. "Guess we've been selfish long enough. Yes, -the flight deck of the Victory would be fine. Hurry it up, though. I've -got something very important to do. Matter of life or death, you know."</p> - -<p>"What?" Dave cried in alarm. "You—?"</p> - -<p>"Never mind the questions!" Freddy cut him off. "Just get me to the -flight deck of the Victory as fast as you can."</p> - -<p>Forty minutes later Dave sighted the aircraft carrier, and ten minutes -after that he received word from the operations officer to come aboard. -The huge ship looked strangely bare and alone as it steamed into the -wind. There wasn't a single plane on deck. All available ships were -in the air, either scouting for fragments of the Italian fleet or -lending their aid in the battle ashore. Just the same, the long smooth -deck looked like home sweet home to Dave as he guided his borrowed -two-seater fighting plane downward.</p> - -<p>He came in clean as a whistle, and no sooner had the secret arresting -gear brought the plane to a halt than Group Captain Spencer seemed to -pop right out of thin air and come racing across the deck to greet -them.</p> - -<p>"The happiest day of my life!" he cried, and reached up a helping hand. -"Climb down out of there, you two. Blessed if I don't want to hug and -kiss you. Fancy that!"</p> - -<p>"First tell us about the others, sir," Dave said as he climbed down -onto the deck. "I mean, the other patrols that went out when we didn't -return. Did they get back okay?"</p> - -<p>"Fit as fiddles, and without a speck of information!" the group captain -cried, "But we all know why, now. By George! Is it good to see you two! -I suppose you know you helped a little, eh?"</p> - -<p>"Well," Dave said with a grin, "I hope we helped at least a little."</p> - -<p>"Oh, it was a bit more than that," Group Captain Spencer said with a -mocking shrug. "All you did was save half the British army in Libya -from walking into a death trap. That, plus making it possible for us -to give the Nazis a licking that will slow them up long before they -reach Egypt. And when they do reach Egypt, we'll be able to hold them -until General Wavell's ready to run them all the way back where they -came from. Yes, you two helped some, I guess. And as soon as you're -rested up I want the whole story in detail. Don't leave out a thing. I -insist.... By George! Farmer, what's the matter?"</p> - -<p>Freddy had squatted down on the deck and was tearing off his boots as -though his feet were on fire.</p> - -<p>"Must get rid of them at once!" he panted, and struggled with his -boots. "Die if it touches me any longer. Most terrible stuff in the -world. Deadly poison. Absolutely fatal."</p> - -<p>Dave's heart looped over as he remembered a squashed scorpion on a -Libyan desert rock.</p> - -<p>"Freddy, what is it?" he cried, bending over. "What's in your shoes? -That stuff you talked about life and death in the plane? Freddy, speak -to me! <i>What's in your shoes?</i>"</p> - -<p>The English youth got to his feet, picked up his two shoes and hurled -them far out over the side of the carrier. When they had hit the water -and sunk from sight, he shuddered and heaved a long grateful sigh.</p> - -<p>"Sand," he said hoarsely. "Blasted desert sand!"</p> - -<p class="ph4">THE END</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="footnote"> -<p><a name="Footnote_A_1" id="Footnote_A_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> <i>Dave Dawson With the R.A.F.</i></p></div> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p class="ph3"><i>A Page from</i><br /> -DAVE DAWSON ON CONVOY PATROL</p> - - -<p>Golden sunshine was streaming down on the broad wings of the American -built Consolidated "Catalina" flying boat, but ominous coal black -clouds were beginning to pile up high in the western sky. Even as Dave -Dawson stared at them, they seemed to fling a dark shadow far out over -the rolling grey swells of the North Atlantic. He gave a little angry -shake of his head and impulsively took a tighter grip on the controls -of the flying boat.</p> - -<p>"That storm looks plenty bad, Freddy," he said out of the corner of his -mouth. "What do you think?"</p> - -<p>Freddy Farmer, seated in the co-pilot's seat, nodded grimly and glanced -at the altimeter. It showed exactly nine thousand feet.</p> - -<p>"We'll just have to hit it on the nose, and pray," he said after a -moment. "If we climb above it we might just as well go back to port.</p> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Dave Dawson in Libya, by Robert Sydney Bowen - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DAVE DAWSON IN LIBYA *** - -***** This file should be named 50309-h.htm or 50309-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/0/3/0/50309/ - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law 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. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive -specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this -eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook -for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, -performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given -away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks -not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the -trademark license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country outside the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the - United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you - are located before using this ebook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The -Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - - - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the -mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its -volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous -locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt -Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to -date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and -official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -For additional contact information: - - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - - - -</pre> - -</body> -</html> diff --git a/old/50309-h/images/cover.jpg b/old/50309-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 43e45b8..0000000 --- a/old/50309-h/images/cover.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/50309-h/images/map.jpg b/old/50309-h/images/map.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index f02b874..0000000 --- a/old/50309-h/images/map.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/50309.txt b/old/50309.txt deleted file mode 100644 index a383ead..0000000 --- a/old/50309.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,6085 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Dave Dawson in Libya, by Robert Sydney Bowen - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Dave Dawson in Libya - -Author: Robert Sydney Bowen - -Release Date: October 25, 2015 [EBook #50309] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DAVE DAWSON IN LIBYA *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - - - - DAVE DAWSON - IN - LIBYA - - by R. SIDNEY BOWEN - - _Author of_ - "DAVE DAWSON AT DUNKIRK" - "DAVE DAWSON WITH THE R.A.F." - - THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING COMPANY - - AKRON, OHIO NEW YORK - - COPYRIGHT, 1941, BY CROWN PUBLISHERS - PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA - - [Transcriber's Note: Extensive research did not uncover any - evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] - - - - - CONTENTS - - - CHAPTER PAGE - - I MEDITERRANEAN PATROL 11 - - II ORDERS FROM G. H. Q. 23 - - III ACTION ALOFT! 38 - - IV PILOT'S LUCK 56 - - V ENEMY MANEUVERS 67 - - VI DESERT MYSTERY 80 - - VII FATE LAUGHS LAST 96 - - VIII BLAZING SANDS 111 - - IX WINGS FROM TRIPOLI 126 - - X COURAGE AGAINST FATE 143 - - XI PRISONERS BY REQUEST 157 - - XII THE COLONEL'S TRAP 176 - - XIII DESERT DOOM 189 - - XIV R. A. F. LIGHTNING 205 - - XV VULTURE WINGS 216 - - XVI DESERT WRATH 230 - - XVII CLAWS OF THE BRITISH LION 246 - - - - -CHAPTER ONE - -_Mediterranean Patrol_ - - -It was high noon and the Mediterranean sky was like a vast expanse of -blue silk with a golden ball pasted exactly in the middle. Far below, -the placid waters of the Mediterranean seemed to catch the blue of the -sky, keep some of it and fling the rest up heavenward again. Between -the blue sky and the blue water, at eighteen thousand feet to be exact, -a lone Blackburn "Skua" of the Royal Air Force, Fleet Air Arm, coasted -slowly about in a series of unending circles. At the controls of the -combination fighter and dive bomber, powered with a 830 hp. Bristol -Pegasus XII sleeve valve engine, sat Pilot Officer Dave Dawson, R.A.F. -Behind him, in the gunner-observer's pit, sat his pal and flying -comrade, Pilot Officer Freddy Farmer, R.A.F. - -For the last two hours they had been aloft doing their trick as advance -air scout for the H.M. Aircraft Carrier "Victory" and her four -escorting destroyers, steaming eastward for a rendezvous with the -main unit of the British Mediterranean fleet. Two hours of coasting -around high in the air far out in front of the Victory, and keeping -their eyes constantly peeled for the first sign of approaching enemy -air attackers. Thus far, however, they had seen nothing save the blue -sky, the blue water, and the golden ball that was the sun. At regular -fifteen minute intervals Dave had made his radio check in code with the -flight operations officer aboard the Victory. Each time there had been -nothing to report. And each time there had been no special orders from -the Victory. - -Two solid hours of flying, looking, and reporting nothing. And still -another whole hour to go before another Skua would be sent aloft -to relieve them and they could slide down to a landing on the long -flat deck of the Victory. Dave sighed, shifted to a more comfortable -position and looked back at Freddy Farmer. - -"My legs feel like they'll stay bent at the knees for the rest of my -life," he said, after removing the "flap-mike" from in front of his -lips. "How about you, my little man? How do you like active duty with -the Fleet Air Arm, huh?" - -The English youth shrugged and made a face. - -"Not even a little bit, so far," he replied. "And, by the by, my -lad, let me remind you it was your idea we put in for duty with the -Fleet Air Arm. Frankly, I wish we'd stayed with the Fighter Command in -England. It's been so long since I've had an air scrap I'm wondering if -I still know how to fire my guns." - -"Stop fishing for compliments," Dave said with a chuckle. "Just do what -you always do. Close your eyes, pray, and press the trigger button. If -there are enough Jerry or Muzzy ships about, one of them is bound to -fly into your bullets." - -Freddy Farmer scowled darkly and lifted a warning finger. - -"You seem to have forgotten something, my little American friend," he -said in mock reprimand. - -"Who, me?" Dave echoed. "Impossible! For even suggesting that I'd -forget anything, I think I'll challenge you to a duel with cup-cakes at -ten paces. But what have I forgotten, anyway?" - -Freddy Farmer tapped his own chest and closed one eye. - -"That I happen to be a pilot, too, though I'm serving as your observer -on this show," he said. "In other words, one more insulting remark -about my shooting ability and I shall be forced to dump you overboard, -parachute and all, and finish this patrol alone. You think I can't?" - -Dave shivered and shook in mock alarm. - -"Please, kind sir, spare me such a fate!" he cried. "It's a long way -down. Besides, you wouldn't want me to be court-martialed, would you, -and perhaps be kicked out of the Service?" - -"I fancy it would jolly well be a good thing for the Service," -Freddy came right back at him. "But I'll bite. Why would you be -court-martialed?" - -"For losing one perfectly good Blackburn Skua monoplane fighter," Dave -said gravely. - -"For losing one?" Freddy echoed before he could stop himself. - -"Sure." Dave nodded and widened his grin. "You'd be at the controls. -Same thing, isn't it?" - -Freddy's eyes snapped fire and the blood rushed into his cheeks. He -glared at Dave for a few seconds, and then slowly grinned sheepishly. - -"Okay, okay," he finally said. "To use your terrible American slang, I -walked into that one. But beginning with now, my lad, watch your step. -A Farmer always has the last laugh." - -"You bet, of course!" Dave hooted at him. "After everybody else has got -the point of the joke. Kidding aside, though, Freddy, I feel like you -do. I mean, it's nice to be down here where it's warm, and the sun -shines every day. And a boat ride on an aircraft carrier isn't tough to -take, either. But I sure could do with some more war. I feel--well, I -sort of feel as if I were cheating." - -"Cheating?" Freddy murmured. "What do you mean? Or is this another -wise-crack of yours? You seem full of them today, for some reason. Was -it what you had for breakfast?" - -"No, I'm talking seriously now," Dave replied. "I feel as though I were -cheating the lads we left back in England. You know, sort of running -out on them. The Jerries have been giving London and Liverpool, and -Manchester, and those other places, a pretty good pasting. It makes me -feel pretty punk to think I put in for a transfer to the Fleet Air Arm -down here in the Mediterranean, and--well, nothing's happened. See what -I mean?" - -"Yes, I do," Freddy said, and nodded gravely. "Feel a bit that way, -myself. However, when we put in for transfer, General Wavell's troops -were knocking the Italians forty ways from Sunday in Libya. It's not -really our fault we got down here after the show was all over." - -"No, I suppose not," Dave grunted. Then, frowning slightly, "I've been -wondering about that, Freddy." - -"About what?" - -"Whether the Libya show really is all over," Dave replied. "Heaven -spare me from trying to be a military expert, like those crystal ball -gazers you hear on the radio, but I've got a hunch Hitler will do -something before he lets General Wavell kick the Italians completely -out of Africa. And he sure seems to be doing it." - -"Quite," Freddy nodded. "And once again I agree with you. If you want -my opinion, I think British Middle East Command is jolly well _sure_ -that Hitler _is_ going to do something about it. In fact, he already -has." - -"Yeah?" Dave breathed and widened his eyes in interest. "What? And how -did you know, or do you?" - -"As you would say," Freddy replied with a grin, "I get around, pal. -I was talking with Group Captain Spencer on the Victory yesterday. -He said that there were reports the Germans were flying troops and -supplies from Sicily across to the main Italian base at Tripoli. -He also said he was sure that there would be an Axis drive against -Wavell's troops very shortly." - -"Flying stuff from Sicily to Tripoli?" Dave exclaimed. "Then what are -we doing way over toward the eastern end of the Mediterranean? We -should be off Sicily knocking them down as they start over." - -"That's the way I feel," Freddy said with a shrug. "However, I fancy -Admiral Cunningham, of the Mediterranean Fleet, knows what he's doing. -There's probably a bigger job to do first. Don't worry, if things get -hot in Libya, I fancy the Fleet Air Arm will be called on to do double -duty. The first job, though, is to find the rest of Mussolini's navy -and put it out of action for keeps." - -"There's a guy for you!" Dave snorted disgustedly. "Mussolini! Will he -give our grandchildren a lot of laughs! What a big bag of wind." - -"And I'd rather like to puncture it," Freddy added. "I feel sorry for -the Italian people. I've always liked them. But Mussolini! What a -rotter!" - -"What a dope!" Dave echoed. "He and that Ciano are a couple of first -class--" - -Dave didn't have a chance to say what Mussolini and Count Ciano were, -for at that moment he heard the brisk voice of the operations officer -aboard the Victory in his earphones. - -"Crimson to Patrol! Crimson to Patrol! Over!" - -Crimson was the code word meaning that the Victory was calling the -advance scouting patrol. And "Over" meant for Dave to reply that -he was receiving the signals. He quickly turned front and slid his -flap-mike up into place. - -"Patrol to Crimson!" he called. "Patrol to Crimson! Signals clear. -Over!" - -"Crimson to Patrol!" said the voice in the earphones. "Crimson to -Patrol. Relief patrol is off. Return to your base at once. Crimson to -Patrol! Return to your base at once. Over." - -Dave impulsively glanced at his instrument board clock and saw that it -still lacked forty-two minutes before the patrol trick would ordinarily -be through. - -"Patrol to Crimson!" he spoke into his flap-mike. "Orders received. -Coming in, Crimson. Over." - -"Okay, Patrol!" the earphones said. And then the radio went silent. - -Dave turned to see if Freddy had had his radio switched on. The English -youth had, of course, and he gave Dave a wide-eyed stare of wonder. - -"What's up, do you think, Dave?" he asked. - -"Search me," Dave replied with a shrug. "But orders are orders, and so -down we go. Hang onto your hats, children." - -As Dave spoke the last he eased back the throttle and sent the Skua -seaward in a long three quarter throttle power dive. He had dropped -some five or six thousand feet before he saw the relief patrol climbing -up into the blue. He waved a hand in greeting and continued on down. At -ten thousand feet he leveled off and banked west. A couple of seconds -later he picked up the aircraft carrier Victory. In the golden glare -of the sun it reminded him a little of a long narrow flatiron floating -upside down in the water. He headed straight for it, then suddenly -grinned and turned around to Freddy. - -"Figured it out yet?" he asked. - -"Naturally not," Freddy replied. "Have you?" - -Dave struggled to keep his face straight. - -"Of course I don't know for sure," he said, "but I think I've got a -pretty good hunch. It's Group Captain Spencer. He's a very considerate -officer, you know." - -"Group Captain Spencer?" Freddy echoed unsuspecting. "What has being a -considerate officer got to do with it?" - -"Well, I've got a hunch he likes me," Dave said. "So I suppose he -figured that being aloft with a guy named Farmer for three whole hours -was just too much to take. Ouch! Hey, lay off! Want me to dive us down -into the drink?" - -The last was because Freddy had moved swiftly forward, unsnapped -Dave's helmet strap and tilted the helmet down over his face. He held -it there as Dave struggled with his free hand. - -"Apologize?" Freddy demanded. - -"Okay, okay!" Dave cried. "I take it all back. Boy! Am I glad I didn't -make that crack just as we were sliding in to land." - -"Oh, I'd have waited a bit, I fancy," Freddy said, and grinned at -him. "No sense cracking up a nice airplane just to teach you a bit of -manners. Now, my lad, close that pretty mouth of yours and get us down -safely." - -"For two cents," Dave growled as he adjusted his helmet, "I'd--No, let -it go. Okay, my fine feathered friend. Watch, and learn." - -The Victory was now just ahead and steaming straight into the wind. -Dave roared by on the port side and took a look at the landing officer -(or flag officer) standing in a box-like structure that jutted out to -the right of the bridge. The officer held a yellow flag in each hand, -and as Dave and Freddy thundered by he signaled with the flags that the -deck was clear for a landing. - -After continuing on a certain distance astern of the carrier, Dave then -banked around and headed straight back, one hand on the stick, the -other on the throttle, and his eyes fixed steadfastly on the landing -officer. Landing on a carrier is not the same as landing on a ground -airdrome. When landing on a ground airdrome, the pilot does the whole -job. Not so on a carrier, however. There the landing officer tells the -incoming pilot exactly what to do. He does this with his signal flags. -He signals whether the pilot is too high, or too low; whether he is -too much to the left, or to the right; or if his plane is not trimmed -correctly. The pilot (if he is a wise pilot) does exactly as the -landing officer signals, and does not rely on his own judgment at all. -It has been proved time and time again that the incoming pilot who does -not obey the landing officer's signals implicitly winds up in a whole -lot of trouble, if not in the ship's Sick Bay. - -And so Dave kept his eyes fixed on that officer with the yellow -flags and brought the Blackburn Skua down closer and closer to the -Victory's polished flight deck. Finally he caught the signal to cut his -throttle way back. He did so, and the plane sank down onto the deck. -Almost before the secret arresting gear had pulled it to a full stop, -mechanics were rushing out to take over. - -As Dave and Freddy climbed out and stretched their cramped legs, the -deck duty officer came over. - -"Get out of your duds and get polished up, you two," he said with a -grin. "All pilots are to report in the Ready Room in twenty minutes. So -hop to it." - -The deck duty officer was no more than a couple of years older than -Dave and Freddy, and his flying rank was the same. His name was -Talbert, and he ate at the same mess table as the boys. Dave gave him a -searching look, then spoke in a low voice. - -"You wouldn't know, would you, Tal?" he asked. "I mean, what it's all -about?" - -"Not a blessed thing, Dawson," the other replied with a shake of his -head. "Big doings, though, I shouldn't wonder. Group Captain Spencer -looks quite hot and bothered. I fancy he isn't collecting us to serve -tea. Now off with you. Mustn't clutter up the flight deck, you know." - - - - -CHAPTER TWO - -_Orders from G.H.Q._ - - -Group Captain Spencer was a big man with iron grey hair and a face that -made you think of chiseled granite. He had served as a fighting pilot -in World War No. 1, and the double row of decoration ribbons under his -wings were proof enough that he had served his country well. A bullet -scar just over his right eye was a constant reminder of a very close -shave with Death. It added to the striking appearance of his broad, -square-jawed face. As a matter of fact, Group Captain Spencer had yet -to see forty-five years of age, but war had left its stamp on him so -that he actually looked well over fifty. - -He stood straddle-legged on the small platform at one end of the Ready -Room while the Victory's fighter pilots, an even thirty-four of them, -filed into the room and found seats. When finally they were all seated -and silent, Group Captain Spencer cleared his throat and took a step -closer to the edge of the platform. - -"No doubt you lads are pretty fed up with patrolling around and not -getting much of a chance to do any shooting," he said, and grinned -faintly. "Well, that's because the fleet has been trying to smoke out -the Italian navy--that is, what's left of it." - -The senior officer paused, and a ripple of laughter spread from lip to -lip. - -"It's now pretty plain that Mussolini's sea chaps don't fancy a fight," -Group Captain Spencer continued. "They've bottled themselves up in -port, and won't come out. In time we'll have to go after them like we -did at the Taranto Naval Base last November Twelfth. That kind of fun -will have to wait a bit, though. More important things to do first. In -short, Hitler is sticking his finger in the African pie--the Libyan -pie, to be exact." - -A murmur of suppressed excitement spread about the room. The pilots sat -up a bit straighter and waited expectantly. Freddy looked at Dave and -winked. Dave winked back and nodded his head. - -"I'll give you a picture of what has happened," Group Captain Spencer -said abruptly. "Last fall General Wavell, commander in chief of His -Majesty's Middle East Armies, had two jobs to tackle, two rather -tough nuts to crack. One was the job of pushing Marshal Graziani's -Italian forces out of western Egypt and back into Libya. The other -was to drive the Italians out of Eritrea and Ethiopia to the south of -Egypt. I say they were two tough nuts to crack because General Wavell -didn't have the troops, mechanized divisions or the planes he really -needed for the jobs. However, as the world knows now, he did what he -could with what he had, and did a very fine job, too." - -The senior officer paused and made a little gesture with his hand that -said the pilots could smoke if they wished. As a matter of fact, he -lighted up a cigarette himself. - -"On December Ninth, last year," the group captain went on, "General -Wavell started a surprise offensive against Graziani's most advanced -forces at Matruh, in Egypt. He caught the Italians completely off guard -and they started one of the wildest retreats in military history. -By February of this year General Wavell's British, Australian, New -Zealand, and South African troops were in possession of Bengazi, in -Libya, some eight hundred miles from the starting point of the drive. -And what was left of the Italian army was fleeing for its life along -the desert shoreline to Tripoli, the main Italian base in Libya, and -its capital. That offensive by Wavell will go down in war history as -one of the most brilliant ever accomplished. - -"Now, as soon as the Italians had been thrown back, General Wavell took -all the troops, tanks, and planes that he could spare and sent them -against the Italians in Eritrea and Ethiopia. In short, he left but a -skeleton force occupying the captured Italian positions in Libya. He -had to do that because he didn't have enough troops for both jobs. As -we know, he did another fine job down to the south. It won't be long -now before the whole of Eritrea and Ethiopia will be in British hands. -However--" - -Group Captain Spencer paused, and his face became grim and set. - -"However," he began again, "while General Wavell has been busy down -in Eritrea and Ethiopia, Hitler has stepped in to lend a hand to -the Italians in Libya. In short, during the last two weeks or so, -German transport planes have been transporting German troops across -the Mediterranean from Sicily to Tripoli in Libya. Tanks, guns, and -supplies have been sneaked across in Italian ships that race for French -Tunisia and then hug the coast of that French African colony and get -safely to Tripoli. The British Mediterranean Naval Command has known -what was going on, at least to a certain degree. Anyway, steps have now -been taken to put a stop to it. However, the naval job out here is a -big one, and the first job was to knock out the Italian navy." - -The senior officer took time out to clear his throat and have a glass -of water. - -"Well, the Italian navy isn't very much, now," he continued presently, -"so the next job is to do something about this business of Hitler -helping the Italians in Libya. We know that German planes, tanks, and -troops are in Libya. We know, also, that a German-Italian, or Axis, -drive is soon to be launched against Wavell's forces in Libya. But -when, and at what points, and the real strength of the German-Italian -forces are three things we do _not_ know. Those three things must be -found out, and as soon as possible. To put it bluntly, the Fleet Air -Arm is going to try to find the answers for the British Middle East -High Command. And to put it even more bluntly, you chaps are going to -have first crack at the job." - -Group Captain Spencer stopped abruptly and turned to a huge map on the -wall behind him. Picking up a red crayon, he marked an X on a spot in -the Mediterranean. Dave saw that it was a point halfway between the -island of Crete and the Libya-Egyptian frontier line. - -"That is the Victory's position now," the group captain said. "Between -now and sundown we will change course several times. When darkness -settles down, we will change course again and head for this spot, -here--a position about thirty miles off Misurata on the Libyan coast, -and some two hundred miles east of Tripoli. We will arrive there at a -certain time before dawn tomorrow. At that time one plane, with pilot -and observer, will take off and, under the cover of darkness, head -inland. The plane will be fitted with extra gas tanks, allowing for -a good eight hour flight. It will also be fitted with a special fast -action aerial camera. - -"Now, the job of that pilot and observer will be to patrol the areas -east and southeast of Tripoli and make notes, and photos, of everything -of interest. And let me say right here, don't pass up a single thing -just because it interests you only a little. Get a good look at -everything, and a picture of it, if possible. When it is time to return -to the Victory, the pilot will head for a certain point that will be -made known to him just before he takes off. The Victory will be there -to take him aboard. Now, before I carry on, any questions?" - -Nobody moved for a moment; then Dave Dawson slowly stood up. - -"Yes, Dawson?" Group Captain Spencer asked briskly. - -"Why one plane, sir?" Dave asked. "If two planes went out, and there -were trouble, perhaps at least one of them would return?" - -"A good question," Group Captain Spencer said. "And in a way, you're -absolutely right, Dawson. However, I'm sending out just one plane for a -special reason. First, though, let me explain why the Fleet Air Arm is -tackling this job instead of an R.A.F. fighter or reconnaissance unit -already based in occupied Libya. It's for this reason: distance! We can -get in close under the cover of darkness, and save a good two or three -hundred mile flight a plane would have to make from an R.A.F. drome at -Bengazi. Also, by going straight south from the coast, we can be over -our objectives before they realize we're there. Planes, or even one -plane, from the R.A.F. drome at Bengazi would be heard and spotted long -before it reached the area we want to study. - -"We are sending out one plane for this reason. And it's very simple. -The enemy spotters might not pay much attention to a single plane -wandering about high above them. We're hoping they'll think it some -ship that has lost its bearings. There will be no marking at all on -the plane. Two planes, however, would definitely arouse the suspicions -of enemy spotters. They would know at once that two planes were there -for a special reason, and not just lost. Therefore they would open -fire, and send up defending aircraft, and the time would be taken up -with fighting instead of observing. Does that explain it, Dawson?" - -"Yes, sir," Dave replied. "You're quite right, sir. It's a one plane -job. But it's to be one plane _at a time_, isn't it, sir?" - -The group captain nodded and looked very grave. - -"I hope it won't be," he said quietly, "but for the present we are -planning it that way. In short, if the first plane does not return, or -if the information it brings back is not of much value, then a second -plane will be sent out, and a third, and a fourth, and a fifth, and so -on, until we find out what we want to know. Frankly, it is a ticklish -job the British Middle East High Command has asked the Fleet Air Arm to -perform. And the Fleet Air Arm Command has turned the job over to us. -Now, any more questions?" - -Dave felt Freddy Farmer stiffen at his side, then saw his flying pal -stand up. - -"Yes, Farmer?" Group Captain Spencer asked. - -Freddy hesitated a brief instant, and then spoke. - -"It is not a question, sir," he said in a low but clear voice. - -"Then what is it?" the group captain demanded gruffly. - -"A request, sir," Freddy replied promptly. "I should like to volunteer -to go in the first plane." - -Freddy's words opened the floodgates of a reservoir of sound. Instantly -every other pilot in the room leaped to his feet and shouted the -request to be selected for that first plane. Group Captain Spencer -grinned happily, then held up both his hands, and shook his head. - -"Just a minute, you chaps!" he roared. Then, when he had obtained -silence, "Just waiting for one of you lads to start it off. And I knew -perfectly well that every one of you would fight for the job. That's -the kind of spirit that has made the Fleet Air Arm the two-fisted, -do-or-die unit that it is. However, we're not going to do it that way. -I'm not going to select anybody. It wouldn't be fair. Besides, I don't -fancy to be dumped overboard some dark night by some lad I didn't -select. I like to wear just trunks when I go swimming, you know, not -full dress service uniform." - -The pilots roared with laughter, and then Group Captain Spencer -continued. - -"No, the way we'll decide that is by drawing lots," he said. "There are -thirty-four of you lads here, and in this cap of mine are thirty-four -folded slips of paper." - -The group captain picked up his service cap that had been resting top -side down on a table on his right. - -"Thirty-four folded slips of paper," he said, and put the cap down on -the table again. "Thirty-three of them are blank. The thirty-fourth -has an X marked on it. Now, you will line up, and each will draw a -folded slip of paper from the cap. The one who draws the paper with the -X on it will be the pilot of the first plane. Now, to make sure the -flight will go off smoothly, so that there'll be no possible chance -of friction, the man who draws the marked slip can choose the chap he -would like to have along as his observer. Of course you are all pilots, -so if anything happens to the lad at the controls the other chap can -take over at once. Naturally, I hope nothing will happen. You never can -tell, though. As I said, this is a ticklish job, and a mighty important -one. It may well prove to be the most important job you've tackled -since entering the service. Now, line up and--" - -Group Captain Spencer cut himself off short and shook his head. - -"No, half a minute," he said. "There's one other thing I'd better say, -though it's probably unnecessary. It is a volunteer job. I mean, the -chap who draws the marked slip can decline if he wishes, and that will -be that. Also, the chum he chooses to go along with him can decline, -too." - -"Not likely, sir, I fancy!" some pilot at the back of the Ready Room -called out. - -"Not likely at all!" the rest shouted in the same breath. - -Group Captain Spencer grinned broadly, and the glow of affection and -admiration was in his dark eyes. - -"So be it," he said, and picked up the service cap filled with folded -slips of paper. "Right-o, lads, line up. And don't fight for places. -Maybe the last chap in line will draw the lucky slip. Anyway, hop to -it." - -The pilots bounded from their seats and hastened to form a line. After -a bit of good-natured pushing and shoving they were all in line. Freddy -and Dave were together about a quarter of the way down the line. Dave -was in front of Freddy, and he turned and grinned at his pal. - -"If I get that slip it will sure be a problem," he said. - -"Why a problem?" Freddy asked. "I'll jolly well be tickled pink, I can -tell you." - -Dave nodded and shrugged. - -"Oh sure, me too," he retorted. "But all these fellows on the Victory -are swell. It will be quite a problem to decide whom to take along with -me. See what I mean?" - -Freddy's jaw dropped in amazement, and a faint hurt look came into -his eyes. Then suddenly, as he saw the grin on Dave's lips, the blood -rushed into his cheeks, and anger took the place of the hurt look in -his eyes. - -"You--you!" he fumed, and stumbled. "You wait, my lad. I'll fix you for -that one later. Look! Parks is drawing the first slip!" - -The two boys snapped their gaze to the front end of the line. So did -everybody else, for that matter. A tall, lean-jawed pilot by the name -of Parks was on the point of dipping his hand into the service cap. -He didn't make it, however. His hand suddenly froze in midair as the -inter-ship communication speaker fitted into the Ready Room wall -started barking out words. - -"All out, Fighter Unit! Enemy aircraft sighted! All out, Fighter Unit. -Snappy, now! All out, Fighter Unit!" - -For one brief instant not a man in the Ready Room moved a muscle. Then -the place was turned into a whirlwind of action. It was a whirlwind of -orderly action, however. Those boys of the Victory's fighter unit were -well trained. This was not the first air alarm they had received, nor -would it be the last. Each pilot knew just what he was supposed to do, -when he was to do it, and where. Group Captain Spencer didn't sing out -one word of command. He didn't have to. He knew his boys well. He just -tossed his cap full of folded slips back on the table and dived out of -the room. The pilots dived out at his heels. - -In less time than it takes to tell about it the whole group was up -on the flight deck and hastening to their planes as they strapped on -helmets and Mae West life jackets, and wiggled into parachute harness -held out by mechanics. Other mechanics had sprung for the planes at -the first word of alarm, and the flight deck shook from the thunder of -whirring engines. Group Captain Spencer had received information of the -position, types and number of enemy aircraft. He started talking the -instant he leaped into his leading ship and plugged in the radio jack -of his head-phones. - -"Twenty thousand feet over Zone CK!" he shouted into all listening -ears. "About thirty of them, advance scout patrol reports. Junkers Ju. -Eighty-Eights, and some Heinkel One-Elevens. Take off by sections of -three and get up there fast. Right-o, lads!" - -Dave's and Freddy's plane was in the fourth section of planes lined up -at the stern end of the flight deck. Faces bright with excitement, they -sat motionless while Group Captain Spencer led the first section off. -As it went ripping along the smooth deck, mechanics guided the second -section into place and sent it off. Then the third. Then Dave's plane -and the two other ships in the section moved forward into position. The -operations officer on the bridge dropped his flag down and away they -went. - -Holding the ship steady in its take-off run, and keeping well clear -of his two companion planes, Dave gave the Blackburn Skua's Bristol -Pegasus engine full throttle. The plane seemed fairly to skip along -the deck for a very short distance, then it was off and prop climbing -toward the clear blue of the Mediterranean sky. - - - - -CHAPTER THREE - -_Action Aloft!_ - - -As the deck of the Victory fell away from him Dave cranked up the -Skua's wheels to add to its perfect streamline design and thus gain -additional climbing speed. Sections One, Two, and Three were well above -him and heading westward and slightly to the north. For a second he -turned his head and glanced down back at the carrier. Every plane was -off and in the air. The escort destroyers were circling the Victory and -laying a thick smoke screen into which the carrier could plunge and -make herself difficult to see in case the approaching enemy aircraft -did break through. As a matter of fact, even as Dave stared downward, -the Victory seemed to merge right in with a thick layer of soot black -smoke. - -"Quick work, eh?" he heard Freddy's shout. "Those destroyer chaps are a -little bit of all right, eh?" - -"They're tops, what I mean!" Dave shouted back. "How're you doing, -Freddy?" - -"Right enough!" the English youth said with a grin. "Get some more -speed out of her, won't you? Wouldn't like to be left behind, you know." - -"You old fire horse!" Dave said with a laugh, and turned front. - -The altimeter now showed fifteen thousand feet of air under the wings, -and the Skua was still going up like a skyrocket, keeping perfect pace -with the two other planes of its section. Dave's blood danced with -excitement, and he hoped hard that the leading sections would not meet -and drive the enemy aircraft away before he could get there. It had -been some time since he and Freddy had tangled with enemy craft. A -little practice in gunnery and combat flying wouldn't do either of them -any harm. - -"Doggone right!" he echoed the thought aloud. "Feel like a bandit -taking this last month's pay for doing practically nothing. And I--" - -He cut himself off short as he suddenly heard Group Captain Spencer's -voice in his earphones. - -"Well, jolly well hurry up, Dawson, and earn some of that pay today!" - -Dave sat up straight, and gasped. Then as he heard the chuckle in the -earphones he blushed to the roots of his hair and grinned sheepishly. -For a second he had clean forgotten that every word he spoke into the -radio mike went into the earphones of every other Victory pilot in -the air, as well as into the earphones of every man at the operations -station aboard the carrier. - -"Sorry, sir," he mumbled. "Just talking rot to myself, and not -thinking." - -"Quite all right, Dawson!" came the cheery reply in his phone. "Get six -or seven of these beggars and I'll forgive you. I'll--There they are, -Crimson pilots! Dead ahead at twenty-one thousand. Well, well! Quite a -mess of them. Spread out and let them go down. Right-o, Crimson pilots. -Tally-ho!" - -Dave gripped the stick tighter and peered hard upward and ahead at the -Mediterranean sky. At first he saw nothing but blue streaked by the -brassy glare of the sun. Then suddenly he saw the swarm of dots--tiny -dots, like a horde of gnats streaking along high up in the heavens. A -moment or so later, however, they ceased to be dots that looked like -gnats. The leading group nosed down and in almost no time they took on -the definite shape and outline of Junker Ju. 88s, the huge long range -Luftwaffe bombers powered by twin Daimler-Benz engines, which since -tryouts during the winter over England had been changed some so that -instead of being confined to level flight bombing they could perform -Stuka or dive bombing work as well. Behind them in the second group -were Heinkel 111 Ks, medium-sized bombers powered by two Junkers Juno -radial engines. - -Slipping the safety guard off the trigger button of his guns, Dave -studied the enemy planes intently. That the Junkers 88s were heading -down while the Heinkels stayed at altitude--in fact, were even starting -to climb higher--seemed proof enough that a savage Stuka attack was to -be made on the Victory while the main body of raiding aircraft swept -onward to attack the principal unit of the British fleet a hundred -miles or so ahead. - -At that moment he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around to find -Freddy's grinning face close to his. - -"Almost like a test, isn't it?" Freddy said, and held a hand over his -flap-mike. - -"Test?" Dave echoed and looked blank. "What do you mean, test?" - -"As if the Fleet Air Arm Command had asked Goering to send some of his -lads out from Italy or Sicily to see if we are still in shape," Freddy -said. "Those are enemy planes, aren't they? It's been so long, you -know." - -"I think so." Dave grinned. "Tell you what, though, I'll find out for -sure. Just sit tight while I fly across in front of one of them. If -they shoot that funny look off your face, then we can be sure they're -Nazis." - -"Thank you, no!" Freddy said with a scowl. "Just you get us close, -that's all. I can perfectly well find out for myself whether they're my -friends or my foes!" - -"Just wanted to help out a pal, that's all," Dave said, and turned -front. - -In another couple of moments the time for horse play and kidding was -all over. The first of the diving Junkers had reached the level of the -First and Second sections of the Victory's fighter planes. And those -fighter planes tore in like so many steel-clawed eagles gone completely -haywire. The air suddenly shook from the yammer and chatter of British -and German aerial machine guns. And punctuating the rattle of the -machine guns was the deeper and louder note of the air cannon mounted -on the German craft. - -Cannon or not, it made no difference to the pilots of the First and -Second sections. As Dave fixed his gaze on them, and jammed his free -hand hard against the throttle as if he could get more speed, he saw -three of the 88s lose their wings and go cartwheeling off to the side, -leaving behind great globs of oily black smoke hanging suspended in the -blue sky. Another couple of minutes and two more 88s trying to wheel -clear of the Victory's defending planes locked wings by mistake and -blew up in a roar of sound that must have been heard all the way back -to their home drome, wherever it was located. - -A couple of more Junkers started running into trouble, but Dave didn't -bother to watch how they made out. His section was now within gun -range, and each pilot was picking out his Nazi plane to attack. Dave -cut off and up toward the belly of an 88 that had zoomed and was trying -frantically to get altitude. Dave steadied himself and the ship, got -the Junkers square in his sights and then let drive with his four guns. -He saw his gleaming tracers smoke up into the under side of the 88 -like so many metal fireflies. At the same time four jetting tongues of -flame stabbed down at him, and he knew that the Junkers' gunners were -not being caught napping. He knew, too, an instant later, when his Skua -shook and trembled slightly, that those gunners were not exactly blind -men when it came to marksmanship. - -His bursts, however, were the ones that counted. The firing from the -Junkers suddenly ceased, and the craft lunged drunkenly off to the -right. Dave held his ship in its zoom until the last moment, and then -flung it over on its side. The maneuver left a perfect target for -Freddy Farmer in the rear pit. And the young English youth was ready -and set. His twin guns spat flame and sound, and even as Dave jerked -his head around for a look, he saw a ribbon of flame dribble out from -the port engine of the 88, and then sweep back over the wing and along -the fuselage to the tail. The Nazi bomber became a roaring ball of -flame in an instant, and as Dave cartwheeled away he caught the flash -of its bombs falling away. The German pilot had released them so that -they would not explode before he and members of his crew could bail out -of the blazing plane. - -It so happened, though, that the Nazi pilot forgot about one bomb, or -perhaps the release toggle stuck. At any rate, that section of the -sky was suddenly filled with flashing light and a blast of sound that -seemed virtually to drive Dave's eardrums deep into his head. He could -even feel the concussion of the explosion slap against the Blackburn -Skua like a soggy wet blanket, and try to whip it over on its back. It -was all Dave could do to hold the plane in its speed gaining dive and -prevent it from flopping into a tight power spin. - -"Nice going, Freddy!" he shouted back over his shoulder. "But next -time tell the guys to shake their bombs off first. Boy! Is my head -ringing!" - -"So's mine!" Freddy shouted back. "Right-o, Dave! Let's get another of -the beggars. Attack our fleet, will they! Up at the rotters, Dave!" - -Even as Freddy was shouting the words, Dave had cut the Skua off to the -right, then whipped it over and down in a lightning-like half roll. -There, directly below his diving nose, was another 88. He opened fire -at once, then curved up and away so that Freddy could rake the plane -from nose to tail as they raced past. The Nazi craft didn't burst -into flame. Instead, it rolled over in the air like a tired bird. For -a moment or so it hovered on its back. Then it fell off on one wing, -and down. White puffs began to appear off to the side, well below -the crippled plane slowly slip-sliding downward to its final end in -the clear blue waters of the Mediterranean. The white puffs were the -parachute envelopes of the pilots and crew members who had bailed out -of the helpless craft. - -Neither Dave nor Freddy, however, gave them so much as a second glance. -The first group of the dive-bombing Junkers had been broken up. At -least ten of them had been put out of the war for keeps, and the others -were beating a hasty retreat to the west. The Heinkels, however, had -not come down. They had gone up for more altitude instead, and had -tried to race beyond the defending Victory fighters and reach their -objectives far to the east. - -They had tried, yes, but they had not succeeded. The sections in back -of Dave's section had climbed swiftly up to meet those Heinkels and by -sheer fighting power had forced them to turn off toward the north--that -is, all but two of them. Two Heinkels had somehow broken through the -barrier of defending Skuas and were now thundering down to level bomb -the Victory far below. - -Nazi though they might be, Dave could not help but feel a certain -amount of admiration for the pilots and crews. It was a suicide attack -they were about to make, and they obviously knew it. With all hope -of reaching the British fleet blasted by the furious defense of the -Victory's planes, two of those Heinkel pilots had decided to do what -they could against the Victory below. To have continued on eastward -would simply have meant a short passing of time before the speedy Skuas -caught up with them and shot them out of the air. And so they had -elected to do what damage they could to the Victory, and unquestionably -they would pay for it with their lives. - -"You've got to hand it to them," Dave muttered somewhat reluctantly as -he sent his Skua hurtling downward. "At least that's two of Goering's -guys who have what it takes. Too bad they signed up to play on the -wrong team!" - -A moment later, however, all feeling of sympathy and admiration was -gone. The Victory was down there, and the enemy was wing howling down -to blow it out of the water, if such a miracle could be performed. -There were pals of Dave's down there on that carrier, pals who would -risk their lives any day to save him. It was up to him to risk his, -now, to save them. The diving Heinkels ceased to be airplanes manned by -human beings like himself. They became in his mind two winged machines -of death and destruction hurtling down to snuff out the lives of his -pals and fellow officers. - -And so he braced himself in the seat and dropped the Skua's nose -down to the vertical. The Bristol engine in the nose screamed out -its song of power, and the air rushing past set up a shrill constant -whistle. Hunching forward, Dave pressed hard against his safety belt -harness, tightened the muscles of his stomach, kept his mouth open and -continually swallowed to reduce the air pressure in his ears. But all -the time he kept his eyes riveted on the nearest diving Heinkel. - -It all took up but a few brief seconds, and then he was streaking down -on top of the German bomber. Its gunners opened up with everything -they had, and the air in front of Dave's nose was filled with the wavy -streams of tracer smoke. He did not veer to the left or right for an -instant. He held his ship steady until a vital part of the bomber was -square in his sights. Then he let out a yell and jabbed his trigger -button. The four Vickers guns cowled into the leading edge of the -wing, two on each side of the nose, and yammered out their song of -destruction. - -For what seemed an hour to Dave's tightly knotted nerves, the Heinkel -continued on down in its dive. In reality it was not longer than it -would take you to snap your fingers before smoke and flame belched out -from the bomber to envelop it completely. It continued on down in its -dive, however. But it slammed straight down into the water a good five -miles astern of the zigzagging Victory. - -The instant Dave saw the smoke and flame spew upward, he cut his fire, -started to ease his ship up out of its thundering dive, and cast his -eyes about for a glimpse of the second diving Heinkel. He spotted it -almost at once off to his left, and as soon as he saw it he realized -he didn't have to worry about it at all. Two of the Victory's planes, -one of them piloted by Group Captain Spencer, had caught the bomber in -a deadly crossfire. Three seconds later and that Heinkel was out of the -war and on a one way flight down to a watery grave in the Mediterranean. - -Dave relaxed in the seat a bit, pulled his plane up onto an even keel -and glanced around at the heavens above him. The heavens were filled -with flashing wings, but they were all wings made in England. There -wasn't the sign of a single German plane. Those ships that had escaped -the Victory pilots were by now so far away they couldn't be seen by the -naked eye. A moment later Group Captain Spencer's voice came over the -radio. - -"Reform sections, Crimson pilots! Going aboard. Reform your sections, -Crimson pilots. I want to count noses!" - -The last caused Dave's heart to skip a beat. It wasn't until that -moment he had realized the possibility that perhaps English as well as -German pilots had gone down into the Mediterranean. While he hunted out -the two planes of his section and dropped into formation, he tried to -count noses himself. But before he had time to make sure of his count, -he heard welcome words in his earphones. - -"Good lads, all of you!" called Group Captain Spencer. "All present and -accounted for. Fine! Fancy those beggars can't say the same. Right-o! -Aboard you go in sections as you took off. Land by sections in line -astern." - -The last meant that as each section of three planes slid down to be -taken aboard the carrier, the left and right planes would drop into -line behind the center plane. In other words, instead of three abreast, -or in V formation, they would be three in line behind each other, or in -line astern. - -By the time the first section had dropped down to a low altitude, the -Victory had moved out of its protective smoke screen and was steaming -into the wind. Dave glanced downward to see the escort destroyers -circling back and around to pick up all surviving German airmen who -might be in the water. Reaction hit him for a second and he shivered -impulsively. Lady Luck had flown with him again, else he too might be -down there floating around--or perhaps going down for the third time! - -And then as he switched his attention back to his flying, Lady Luck did -desert him, and old man Tough Luck laughed in his face. He yanked the -release level that worked the mechanism that lowered his wheels--only -the little red light on the instrument board did not wink out. The -little red light was the pilot's guide as to whether his wheels were -up or down. And the fact that it was on told him that his wheels were -still up. - -He worked the release lever gently a couple of times, but the light did -not go out. He banged it hard with his fist, and whipped the nose of -the plane up and down in an effort to jar the wheels down. The little -red light, however, stayed on. At that moment Freddy leaned forward and -rapped him on the shoulder. - -"The right wheel, Dave!" he cried. "I can just see it from back here. -It's stuck a quarter of the way down. I guess a Junkers or Heinkel -gunner gave us a souvenir to take home. Cut a retracting gear cable, -probably. I think I see the end of one whipping about in our prop-wash." - -"Okay, thanks," Dave shouted back. "I'll try some more and then radio -Operations." - -Feeding high test gas to his engine, he pulled quickly upward and -out of formation. Then, when he was well clear of the other sections -drifting down to be taken aboard the carrier, he started kicking the -Skua around in a desperate effort to get the right wheel to go all the -way down. But it was no use. He could get both wheels back up into the -wing sockets, but he could not get the right wheel more than a quarter -of the way down. He finally gave up, gave Freddy an apologetic grin and -called Operations aboard the carrier. He had been watched all the time, -of course, and the orders were given to him at once. - -"Get your wheels up, and keep them there, Dawson. Come down for a water -landing. A crash boat will stand by to take you aboard at once. Land -half a mile ahead of us. Good luck!" - -"Thank you, sir," Dave replied in a voice that shook with emotion. - -Of course it would be too dangerous for all concerned to attempt what -is known as a "belly landing" aboard the carrier--a landing on the -belly of the plane with both wheels up in the wings. The slightest -skid could end up in a bad crash and quite possibly fire. And fire by -accident aboard a carrier at sea is bad enough without asking for it, -or tempting it. With that plan of action being out of the question, -there were two other things that could be ordered done. One was to -land in the water. The other was for Freddy and himself to bail out -and let the ship crash. That he had not been given the last order was -an unspoken compliment to his flying ability. Operations had faith he -could sit down in the water without doing damage to Freddy or himself, -or serious damage to the plane. Operations wanted to salvage the plane -and repair it aboard, and Operations was counting on him to make it -possible to save the ship. - -For a moment he sat perfectly motionless at the controls, as though -afraid that movement would end the thrilling spell through which he was -passing. Then Freddy did break it by banging him on the shoulder. - -"Get to it, my lad!" Freddy shouted. "The blasted water isn't coming up -here to us, you know. You can do it in pukka style. We both know that." - -Dave shook himself out of his trance, got his wheels back up into the -wings, and then headed for a point half a mile ahead of the Victory. As -he winged past the carrier, he saw one of the crash boats being lowered -over the side. Then all that was behind him and there was just the -expanse of the Mediterranean ahead. At the right moment he hauled the -throttle back, and tilted the nose downward. Every muscle and nerve in -him was drawn bow string tight as the blue water rose up toward him. - -It was not the first time he had put a land plane down in the water, -but on those other occasions it had not mattered if he cracked up the -plane a bit. This time was different. The Victory needed this Blackburn -Skua. The Fleet Air Arm in the Mediterranean had too few planes as it -was. Every ship it could salvage was as good as two brand-new planes on -the long way out from the factory in Britain. He had to make this the -best landing of his flying career. He owed it to Freddy, he owed it to -the rest of the boys aboard the Victory--and he owed it to himself. - -One second ticked past. Two seconds--three. And then the blue water -was right underneath him. He whipped out his free hand and cut the -ignition. With his other hand he eased back the stick and brought the -nose up a few inches. Flying speed fell off instantly. The plane seemed -to hang motionless just off the surface of the water. The round crest -of a gentle blue swell rolled by and whispered up against the belly -of the plane. As though a thousand glue-covered fingers had touched -the bottom of the plane, the Skua stuck to the water. It lurched just -slightly and plowed up a faint spray. Then it settled a bit by the -nose, steadied, and floated as nicely as a duck on a millpond. - -Dave let the clamped air out of his lungs in a rush of sound. It was -not until then he realized that his face was dripping with sweat. He -gulped and turned around to look at Freddy. The blood was coming back -into the English youth's face. He was smiling, and his eyes were bright -with something that was far more than just friendly affection. Then he -seemed to catch himself showing his inner emotions. He gave a little -nod of his head and broadened his grin. - -"Well done, my lad!" he shouted. "My sincerest congratulations. It was -so beautiful, that for a minute I thought--Oh, let it go." - -"You thought what?" Dave demanded, and tried to get his heart to ease -up from thumping so hard against his ribs. - -Freddy arched his eyebrows and gestured with one hand. - -"Why, it was so perfect," he said, "that for a moment I thought I was -flying the blasted thing." - -The crazy remark snapped the tension in Dave. He relaxed completely, -and laughed and made a pass at Freddy. They were still kidding and -horsing around when the crash boat slid up alongside, took them aboard, -and began towing the floating plane back to the hoisting crane aboard -the Victory. When they reached the carrier, the cheer that came down to -Dave's ears sounded like the sweetest music he had ever heard in his -life. - - - - -CHAPTER FOUR - -_Pilot's Luck_ - - -For the second time that day the fighter pilots of the Carrier Victory -filed into the Ready Room and found seats. Group Captain Spencer -grinned and nodded to each youth as he entered. To Dave Dawson he gave -a broad grin and a wink that made the Yank R.A.F. pilot feel as good -as though the Distinguished Flying Cross Medal had been pinned on his -tunic. Finally all were seated and every eye was fixed on the group -captain standing on the little platform. - -"Sorry about that little interruption," he presently said with a -chuckle. "I give you my word, it wasn't something I arranged just to -see if you lads were up on your toes. I knew that all the time. And I -fancy the Jerries know it _now_, too. A good job, and I'm jolly well -proud of you. Well, on with the unfinished business." - -The senior officer picked up the service cap filled with folded slips -of paper and stepped forward to the edge of the platform. - -"Right-o, line up again," he said. Then, with a grin, "If there's -another blasted raid alarm, we'll just pretend that we didn't hear it. -Mustn't keep you fire eaters in suspense forever, you know. Right-o! -Line forms on the left." - -The pilots formed a line again. By mutual consent they gave Pilot -Officer Parks the number one position, but they didn't bother figuring -out who else had had what position in line the first time. They just -all sifted into places in back of Parks, and let it go at that. As a -matter of fact, Dave found that he was four men in front of Freddy. The -pair had become separated during the shuffling into line. - -Eventually everything was set. A hushed stillness settled over the -Ready Room as Parks dipped his hand into the cap and pulled out a -folded slip. He took a step to the side and opened it with trembling -fingers. Every other pilot watched his face, and waited expectantly. -They saw hope fade into bitter disappointment. The pilot crumbled the -slip into a little ball and threw it disgustedly on the deck. - -"That's Parks luck for you!" he growled. "A blasted blank!" - -"Chin up, old fellow," Group Captain Spencer smiled at him. "Maybe your -best pal will draw it. Right you are. Next chap!" - -One by one the pilots drew slips from the cap and examined them, full -of hope and eagerness. And one by one they were laughed at by Lady Luck -just as she had laughed at Pilot Officer Parks. Finally it was Dave -Dawson's turn. He reached up his hand, then hesitated and looked down -at his other hand to make sure that his fingers were crossed. Group -Captain Spencer followed his look, and chuckled softly. - -"Did doing that help you in that close shave upstairs, Dawson?" he -asked. "If so, I must do it myself from now on. Blessed if I didn't see -one of those Jerries stick his machine gun right square in your face, -and still he missed you. Oh well, go ahead and draw." - -Dave dipped his fingers into the cap, fingered a couple of the folded -slips, and then drew one out. His head was singing faintly, and the -blood was surging, through his veins as he stepped to the side and -unfolded the slip. What he saw, gave him the sensation of a bucket of -ice water spilling down over him. The slip was blank on both sides! -He grinned weakly, wadded up the slip of paper and flipped it away in -disappointed disgust just as the others had done. Then he walked over -to a chair and sat down to watch the rest of the drawing. - -He stopped watching, and so did everybody else, when Freddy Farmer -unfolded the slip he had drawn. The English youth's eager face suddenly -lighted up like a Christmas tree, and his hands trembled so much with -excitement that the slip fluttered down onto the deck. - -"Got it!" he shouted, and bent down to retrieve the slip. "I really -have. See?" - -He jumped around on first one foot and then the other and wildly waved -the little slip about over his head. - -"I say, land, will you, Farmer?" Group Captain Spencer shouted at him -good-naturedly. "I'm sure you're not pulling our leg, but let's have a -look at the thing, anyway." - -Freddy stopped jumping around and held out the slip so that all could -see the X marked on one side. - -"That's it, right enough," Group Captain Spencer said, and tossed -the cap with the remaining folded slips back on the table. "Well, -congratulations, Farmer. And I guess we don't have to guess whom you -want to take along with you, eh?" - -Dave's disappointment at not having drawn the slip blew away into -nothing when he saw the X on Freddy's slip. He looked at his pal and -grinned, and waited to hear Freddy ask him to go along on the dangerous -venture. A couple of moments later, though, a cold wave seemed to -spread through him, and his heart became a hard lump in his chest. -Freddy had passed his eyes right over him and was studying the faces of -the other pilots. Could it be that Freddy--? Was Freddy going to choose -somebody--? - -"I don't know, sir," he heard Freddy say through a dull rumbling in -his ears. "It's a very important job, and a chap must be sure of the -fellow he takes along with him. Yes, sir. Must give it a bit of serious -thought, you know. Now--let me see. Blessed if it isn't a hard job to -choose the right man." - -Dave could hardly believe his ears as he heard the words that fell from -Freddy Farmer's lips. And he could hardly believe his eyes as he saw -the English youth almost deliberately turn his back on him and look at -the other pilots. He was conscious, too, of the general air of stunned -amazement that pervaded the Ready Room. It was obvious that everybody -else had expected Freddy to ask Dave at once. - -"As difficult as that, Farmer?" Group Captain Spencer presently asked -with a puzzled frown on his face. - -"Oh yes, sir, quite difficult," Freddy said, turning to him. Then, with -a wink at the group captain that everybody saw, he turned to look at -Dave, and asked, "Would you like to go along, my little man?" - -Dave blinked, gulped, and then realized in a flash that Freddy hadn't -actually given a single thought to anybody else. He had simply been -paying him back for those wise-cracks while on advance scout patrol, -just as he had promised; paying him back by keeping him hanging on -tenterhooks. Dave's first impulse was to leap forward and turn Freddy -over his knee. He beat back the urge, however. Instead he let loose a -loud sigh of relief that snapped the tension in the room and caused -everybody to burst out laughing. He looked at the impish I-told-you-so -expression on Freddy's face and nodded gravely. - -"I accept, Pilot Officer Farmer," he said in solemn tones. "However, on -one condition." - -"Condition?" Freddy echoed, and his grin faded. - -"Yes," Dave said with a very straight face. "On Group Captain Spencer's -guarantee." - -"_My_ guarantee?" gasped the group captain. "What in thunder do you -mean, Dawson?" - -Dave hesitated and acted as though he were reluctant to speak. - -"You're sure it would be safe, sir?" he asked gravely. "I mean, with -this officer along? He wouldn't get in my way, or anything?" - -There was pin-dropping silence for a second, and then the Ready Room -rocked with the roar of laughter that went up. Freddy went beet red to -the roots of his hair and glared at Dave. - -"Safe?" he shouted. "_I'm_ jolly well the one who has to worry about -being safe. Oh well, I've made my choice. I'll act the gentleman and -stick by it." - -"All right, all right, you two!" Group Captain Spencer called out as -Dave opened his mouth to reply to that one. "Do the rest of your leg -pulling in the plane. Man, how I pity the Jerry who takes you two -prisoners. You'd drive the poor devil clean off his topper with your -crazy talk. Well, anyway, that's that. You two, of course, are relieved -of all other duties beginning with now. Meet me in my quarters right -after evening mess. We'll do a little bit of plotting and planning, in -case it should come in handy. Right-o, chaps, that's all. Dismissed!" - -Three hours later Dave and Freddy were stretching their legs up on the -flight deck. They had had mess and in a short time they would report -to Group Captain Spencer in his quarters. First, though they felt they -would like a stroll and a few words together. Since the drawing, they -had not had much of a chance to be alone. Though they had been relieved -of all duties, they had not merely sat back and taken things easy. -They were real pilots, right to the core, and as soon as Group Captain -Spencer had dismissed them they had gone below decks to the repair -station to have a look at the Skua that had been hoisted aboard. An -inspection of the plane, as the Victory's mechanics worked on it, had -brought to light the true reason for the retractable landing gear's -failure to function. As Freddy had guessed, bullets had parted one of -the cables, and a free end of the cable had been whipped up by the -propeller wash to catch in the retracting gear and jam it so that the -right wheel couldn't go more than a quarter of the way down. - -That, however, was not the most important thing they found out. -Inspection also showed that both of them had come within three inches -or less of becoming dead pilots. Bullet holes in the fuselage and -cockpit cowling (or hood) showed clearly how narrow had been the margin -by which death had passed them by. Two or three inches one way or the -other and they would most certainly have joined their Junkers and -Heinkel victims down in the gentle blue swells of the Mediterranean. - -And now they were walking down their dinner along the long narrow -flight deck of the Victory. - -"In case you didn't get the idea," Dave said, breaking a moment's -silence, "you sure gave me a sweet case of heart failure in the Ready -Room this afternoon. No fooling, I thought sure you were honestly -giving me the cold shoulder. Gosh! I didn't know what to think." - -"Let it be a lesson to you," Freddy replied with a grin. Then, in a -serious tone, "But I should be sore at you for even thinking I'd pick -anybody else but you. After that landing you made? I should say not." - -"Thanks," Dave said. "But I was scared stiff bringing that ship down. -And between you, me, and the stern of this deck, there was an awful lot -of luck mixed up in that landing. A couple of times I thought she was -getting away from me. I'd sure hate to have to do it every day." - -"Well, it was perfect," Freddy said. "A hundred times better than a -landing I recall you once made in the English Channel."[A] - -[Footnote A: _Dave Dawson With the R.A.F._] - -"_You_ recall?" Dave scoffed at him. "How could you? You were out cold -that time, and you know it. And, boy, when I turned around and saw -you--!" - -Dave left the sentence hanging in midair and shook his head as though -to drive away the heart-chilling memory. - -"Gee, it sure is different down here, isn't it?" he said, changing the -subject. - -"Meaning what?" Freddy asked. - -Dave pointed a finger toward the east. - -"The way day becomes night," he said. "Up north you have a couple of -hours of twilight. But down this way you have only a couple of minutes -of it. The sun goes down and then, bang, it's dark in nothing flat. I -never realized that before about this section of the world." - -"Well, it's a good thing when a pack of Jerries are on your tail, I -fancy," Freddy grunted. "You can dive and lose them in the dark. And -speaking of the dark, watch your take-off just before dawn tomorrow. -Wouldn't be nice to crack us up before we get started, you know." - -Dave turned his head and stared in amazement. - -"_Me_ watch the take-off?" he ejaculated. "Where do you get that stuff? -You drew the marked slip. That makes you the pilot of the plane. Me, -I'm the back seat driver." - -"Oh, no, you're not!" Freddy argued. "I'm a very bright lad, I'll have -you know. I know a pukka pilot when I see one. And I'm looking at you, -see? Besides, I guess I never told you, but I'm a regular camera fiend. -And the passenger works the camera. No, Dave, you do the flying. I'll -take the pictures and try to bother you with back seat talk as much as -I can." - -"You really mean that, Freddy?" Dave asked. "You want me to take the -controls?" - -"That's right," the English youth nodded. Then, with a quick frown, -"But don't take it as a compliment, my lad. I'm simply the lazy type, -that's all. I like to have other people work for me." - -"Aw, nuts!" Dave breathed in mock disappointment. "Just when I thought -the guy was admitting I was good." - - - - -CHAPTER FIVE - -_Enemy Maneuvers_ - - -Night had dropped down over the Mediterranean, and the H.M. Aircraft -Carrier Victory was running without lights in a southwesterly -direction. There was plenty of light below decks, however, but whenever -an outside door was opened the bright lights immediately winked out -and the pale blue "battle lights" glowed. Thus it was impossible for -any telltale glow of light to reveal the Victory's presence to any -nearby enemy craft of the sea, or to any enemy aircraft that might be -patrolling the air above. True, the pale glow of the battle lights -escaped into the night, but it was so dim as not to be noticed even at -close range. - -In Group Captain Spencer's quarters, Dave and Freddy bent over a huge -map spread out on the desk, and listened closely to their senior -officer's words. - -"Here we are, now," the group captain said, touching the map with the -point of his finger. "We have changed course for the last time, and -it's pretty certain that the enemy has no idea what we're up to. It was -lucky we were still steaming along at the rear of the main fleet unit -when those Jerries showed up this afternoon. Had we been in the act -of cutting away then, those lads who did get back to their base would -certainly have reported us up to something. As it is, though, they -probably think we're still tagging along with the fleet." - -"And probably hoping we hit a couple of mines," Dave added with a -chuckle. - -"Probably," Group Captain Spencer agreed with a grin. "I don't believe -those lads feel very kindly toward the Victory right now. We certainly -gave them something to think about this afternoon. But, as I was -saying, here we are right at this moment. In six hours, that'll be two -o'clock tomorrow morning, we will be about fifty miles off the Libyan -coastal town of Misurata. That is, of course, unless a couple of our -destroyers that are way out in front of us sight something to make us -change our plans." - -"I sure hope not," Freddy said with a frown. "I'm all for this scouting -show, and want to get on with it." - -"Me, too!" Dave chimed in. "I've got a hunch I'm going to get a big -kick out of it." - -"I hope that's all you get out of it, except the much needed -information," Group Captain Spencer said softly. "I don't want to sound -like a phonograph record, but this is a mighty dangerous mission. You -see, we haven't the faintest idea what you may or may not run into. -Before you've hardly flown in from the coast you may run slap bang into -a swarm of Axis planes on patrol. Then, too, much of your flying will -have to be done blind. I mean, Libya isn't like England or France where -there are towns, and rivers, and lakes, and all that sort of thing to -serve as landmarks. It's a blasted expanse of sand, once you get in a -way from the coast. And your only landmarks to fly by will be a tiny -oasis village here and there that you can miss very easily because they -blend in so perfectly with the cursed sand. I've done quite a bit of -flying out that way, and I can tell you that it certainly isn't any -pleasure hop." - -"We'll jolly well be praying that the engine keeps ticking over," -Freddy murmured. - -"Right you are, and pray hard," Group Captain Spencer said with an -abrupt nod of his head. "That's another of the several dangers attached -to this show--a forced landing. Behind our own lines, a forced landing -in the blasted desert is bad enough. But a forced landing behind the -Axis outposts will be doubly unpleasant. And that brings up something -I might just as well mention now as later. I said that this show is to -be a secret. I meant it! It's to be just that. There will be no Fleet -Air Arm markings on your plane. And you will not wear anything or even -carry anything that would connect you in any way with the Fleet Air -Arm, or the Victory. You'll not even take along your Mae West life -jackets. And in case you are forced down in the desert, you will set -fire to your ship at once. You understand that perfectly?" - -The two boys nodded together. - -"And if you are forced down, don't expect planes to be sent out to look -for you," Group Captain Spencer continued grimly. "You will be strictly -on your own. You can't expect any rescue help from us. That sounds -pretty grim, and it is. But we've got to work it out that way. To let -the enemy even suspect that the Victory had slipped in close to shore, -and that the Fleet Air Arm was taking an active hand in the Libya -problem, might result in no end of trouble. For one thing, it would -have every German and Italian plane within range out hunting for the -Victory. And that would put us in a pretty bad spot, if we were caught -so far away from the main body of the fleet. And--By the way, what -I've just said doesn't change your desire to tackle the job, does it?" - -Neither of the boys said anything. They just sat there looking at him -quietly. The group captain flushed faintly and smiled. - -"Sorry, lads," he said. "Just thought it was up to me to ask, you know. -But, back to the job. The minute you leave the flight deck you will be -on your own. You will have extra tanks that should last you about eight -hours. You will have your guns, and such, in case you do bump into -Axis winged trouble. You will have a camera and plenty of plates. You -won't have a radio, though, because to use it might give your position -away, and the Victory's, too. There must be no radio contact between -you chaps and the Victory. Another part of your equipment consists of -items I hope you will not be called upon to use. Briefly, they are -water flasks, emergency rations, pocket compass, sun helmets, service -automatics, and one or two other things." - -"Say, could I make a suggestion, sir?" Dave suddenly spoke up as the -senior officer paused. "It might help in case we did run into trouble -and went down." - -"Certainly you may make suggestions," Group Captain Spencer said with a -broad smile. "My word, you chaps are doing the show, you know. What is -it, Dawson?" - -"The clothes we wear, sir," Dave said. "Why not go all the way in -fooling them about a connection with the Fleet Air Arm and the Victory? -Why couldn't Freddy and I wear regulation desert infantry or machine -gun company uniforms? Say, British, or Australian, or New Zealand? -Uniforms from one of General Wavell's outfits?" - -Group Captain Spencer looked impressed, but Freddy frowned slightly. - -"But what about the plane, Dave?" he objected. - -"Well, what about it?" Dave wanted to know. "If we can't set it afire -in the air before we bail out--if we have to--we'll certainly destroy -it as soon as we're on the ground. Later, if we are picked up, we're -just a couple of infantrymen who got lost from a desert scouting -patrol. See what I mean? What plane? Sure we saw a plane land and burn -up, but it looked to us as if the poor devils in it burned up, too. See -what I mean, Freddy?" - -The English youth's face suddenly lighted up and he became all smiles. - -"Sure, of course!" he cried. "Am I stupid! Not a chance in the world -of them connecting us up with the plane and perhaps trying to force a -story out of us." - -"Right!" Dave echoed. "And as a couple of captured infantrymen, we -won't be so important to them as a couple of captured airmen. They -might not watch us so closely, and if we should get a break, why--Well, -figure it from there." - -"I say, hold it up a bit!" Group Captain Spencer cried. "I've half a -mind not to let you tackle the show. My word, you've practically failed -and got yourselves taken prisoners already. However, that's a good -suggestion of yours, Dawson. I'll see Ship's Stores after we finish -talking and have them fix up a couple of infantry uniforms for you. -Now, get your eyes on this map again." - -All three of them bent closer to the map, and the group captain -continued speaking. - -"Here's Wavell's most advanced outpost," he said, and pointed his -finger, "here at El Aghelia, in the curve of the Gulf of Sidra. Eight -hours after you take off the Victory will be at this point off the -Libyan coast. See, I've written down the exact latitude and longitude. -Take a good look, both of you, and get that location reading stamped in -your brain." - -Dave and Freddy repeated the figures several times to themselves until -they were sure they would not possibly forget them. Then Dave looked -at Group Captain Spencer. - -"That point's only some thirty miles off Bengazi," he said, "and some -three hundred miles east of the point where we'll take off. The Victory -will have to do a lot of steaming to get there in eight hours." - -"Yes," the group captain nodded. "But she can do it, with a bit to -spare. I know what's in your mind, though. You're wondering why the -Victory doesn't just put out to sea a bit, and then come in again to -take you aboard?" - -"I was wondering about that, sir," Dave admitted. - -"Well, she's not going to do that for two reasons," the senior officer -said. "First, because it will be daylight and it would be too much -of a risk to cruise around so far to the west. We might be sighted -by Axis planes crossing over from Sicily. The other reason is for -your protection as well as ours. As you can see by looking at this -map, your return flight will take you from El Aghelia up the eastern -coast of the Gulf of Sidra to Bengazi and then on out to sea to our -rendezvous point. That way you'll have less of an overwater flight to -make to reach us. Also, if you are chased by enemy aircraft and get -into trouble, you'll be in a position to make a run for a safe landing -on British-occupied ground. The Victory will have an advance scouting -plane aloft all the time, and if its pilot sees you in trouble the -Victory will be notified at once so that she can make tracks away from -the rendezvous area." - -The group captain paused for breath and to light a cigarette. - -"And that is another thing I want to warn you about," he said -presently. "If you are chased by enemy aircraft, make _no attempt to -reach the Victory until you have completely shaken off and lost all -such aircraft_. In short, and to sum it all up very bluntly, you have -about two chances of making the scouting patrol a success as against -ninety-eight chances of failing." - -"One chance in forty-nine," Freddy murmured, and then shrugged. "Well, -I fancy that's better than one chance in a hundred." - -"Tell us this, sir," Dave said. "Supposing we have to land at Bengazi, -or some other British held point, what then? I mean, how do we make -contact with the Victory?" - -"You don't," Group Captain Spencer said bluntly. "Not unless you have -information of vital value to the Fleet Air Arm, or the fleet itself. -Any information, and all pictures you obtain of Axis positions and so -forth, you will turn over to the commandant of the Bengazi post for -immediate transfer to General Wavell's headquarters. If your plane -is in a condition to permit you to fly on to H.Q., then do so. The -main thing, though, is to get the information and pictures to General -Wavell's headquarters the fastest way possible." - -"And if we have information of value to the Air Arm or the fleet?" -Freddy prompted. - -"In that event," the group captain said with a frown, "we'll have to -take a chance on the Bengazi radio informing us so that we can arrange -for some other point of rendezvous, or some way of your getting the -information to us. But I repeat once again: the Victory is playing a -sort of lone wolf game in this thing, and she cannot run any risk of -being caught and sunk by Axis planes, or even seriously damaged. You -don't build an aircraft carrier in a day, you know. And we all know we -have all too few of them as it is. The loss, or a long lay-up, of the -Victory would be a serious blow to the Air Arm as well as to the fleet. -Naturally, I'm counting on you two--and all other pilots we may have to -send out on this job--not to put the safety of the Victory in jeopardy -at any time, no matter what the cost may be to yourselves. In fact--" - -The senior officer paused and made a face. - -"In fact, she may even play a dirty trick on you," he continued after -a moment. "I mean, she may find it too dangerous to make a rendezvous -contact with you--and won't be there when you show up. However, there -is a very slim chance of that. If it does happen, you will try to make -land if you possibly can." - -Dave nodded, then looked at Freddy and chuckled. - -"What's funny about that?" the English youth wanted to know. - -"Not a thing," Dave replied, but kept a grin on his face. "It was -just a crazy thought I had. The way this thing stacks up, you'd think -the Victory doesn't want to see us any more. But we'll fool her, eh, -Freddy? She can't toss us out into the cold, cruel world like that, can -she?" - -"I should say not!" Freddy said with a short laugh. "I like the Victory -very much. The old girl can't give me the cold shoulder. No, not a bit -of it." - -"Now I'm sure of it!" Group Captain Spencer exclaimed with an abrupt -nod. - -The two pilots stared at him. - -"What's that, sir?" Freddy murmured. - -"That you'll jolly well come through this with flying colors," Group -Captain Spencer said. "I've met a lot of chaps who right now would -be worrying themselves sick and biting their nails over the danger -possibilities of this venture. But the way you two--well, to use a bit -of your American slang, Dawson--the way you two take it all in stride, -and fun around, makes me feel sure that you'll come out on top. Chaps -like you two worry about the dangers afterward, not before. You take -care of things as they pop up, and I suppose that's the way it should -be." - -"Well, don't worry, sir," Dave said. "Freddy and I'll both be in there -pitching." - -"Eh, pitching?" Group Captain Spencer murmured with a frown. - -"More American slang, sir," Dave explained. "It means, we'll be -swinging all the time, right from the bell. We'll be right on the old -beam--in the groove, and--Well, you know what I mean, sir." - -"Er--er, yes, of course," the senior officer said a bit dubiously. "Oh, -quite! Well, I guess that ends this session, unless either of you chaps -have anything to ask?" - -"Not me, sir," Dave said with a shake of his head. "I reckon I've got -it all down pat." - -"Me, too, sir," Freddy echoed with a nod. - -"Right-o," Group Captain Spencer said, and crushed out his cigarette. -"Go rest up a bit, now, and relax. I'll see about those infantry -uniforms from Ship's Stores. Afterward we'll check over everything -you're taking along. Right now, though, relax and try to get your -thoughts on other things. That's all." - -After the two boys had left, the group captain stared silently at the -closed door of his quarters for a long moment. Then presently he smiled -and nodded his head. - -"Just youngsters," he murmured softly, "but, by George, they've got the -fighting hearts and courage of a dozen men!" - - - - -CHAPTER SIX - -_Desert Mystery_ - - -A billion or so stars winked down on the long black shadow that was -the Aircraft Carrier Victory sliding through the even blacker waters -of the Mediterranean. A row of tiny pin points of light stretched the -entire length of the starboard side of the flight deck, and at the -stern end was a lone Blackburn Skua fighter-dive bomber with its prop -slowly ticking over. In the forward pit sat Dave Dawson, and behind him -in the gunner's pit was Freddy Farmer. Off to one side stood a silent, -watchful group of flight deck mechanics. And on the stub step of one -wing, with his head and shoulders inside the partly opened cockpit -hood, stood Group Captain Spencer. - -Everything possible that could be done, had been done. The plane, -fitted with extra tanks to add to its cruising range and time in the -air, had been checked and rechecked from propeller boss to rudder -post. Every square inch of wing surface, every wire, every nut, and -every cotter pin, had been carefully examined by expert eyes. The -plan of flight had been gone over two or three times, and last minute -instructions had been delivered. All was ready for the take-off. There -was nothing more to be said or done. The success or failure of the -highly important mission about to be made was strictly in the hands, -the capable hands, of two stout-hearted, fighting Royal Air Force -pilots, attached for special duty to His Majesty's Fleet Air Arm. - -"Happy landings, you two," Group Captain Spencer said quietly, though -his voice trembled with deep emotion. "We're all counting on you, and -pulling for you. And--well, good luck." - -The group captain quickly squeezed the hand of each and then stepped -down and away from the plane. Dave grinned at him, nodded, and then -turned his gaze to the instrument board. Every instrument received his -intent scrutiny. Then finally he twisted around in the seat and looked -at Freddy. - -"Ready, little man?" he grunted. - -The English youth snorted and shrugged. - -"For what?" he demanded. "For tea to be served? You're certainly -hanging around long enough for us to have some. Stop making the old -girl wait! She wants to be rid of us--well, you, anyway." - -Dave grinned, and winked. - -"So we both feel the same way, eh?" he grunted. - -"What way?" Freddy demanded. - -Dave put a hand to the side of his mouth. - -"My heart's bumping up against my back teeth, too!" he whispered. - -"Aren't you right!" Freddy whispered back. "So hurry up and get us off -this blasted carrier before we change our minds. It's the waiting that -gets me down." - -"But it's your old pal who gets you _up_!" Dave cracked, and turned -front. - -With a final look and a nod toward Group Captain Spencer standing with -the flight deck mechanics, he kicked off the wheel brakes and slowly -opened the throttle, or the "gate," as the R.A.F. boys call it. The -Bristol Pegasus engine increased the tone of its song and the plane -moved forward, picking up speed with every revolution of the engine. -Dave pushed the stick forward, got the tail up and sent the plane -streaking along the smooth deck on its wheels. A split second later the -"Island" (the bridge and superstructure of an aircraft carrier) flashed -by on his left. Another few seconds and he pulled the plane clear and -the tiny row of pin point take-off guide lights on his right fell away. - -He held the ship in a steady climb for a couple of thousand feet or -so. Then he leveled off, banked around to the south, and set his plane -on the first leg of his compass course. That done with, he pulled back -the throttle to cruising speed, shifted to a slightly more comfortable -position in the seat and put his lips to the flap-mike. - -"Calling Crimson!" he said. "Plane off. Calling--" - -He cut himself off short as Freddy's hand banged down on his shoulder. -Right afterward he heard the English youth's words in his ears. - -"A beautiful start of things, I must say!" Freddy shouted. "The lad is -balmy, and talking to himself so soon. I say, Dave, save that until -they put you in a padded cell, eh?" - -"What the--?" Dave shouted, and then stopped short. "My gosh!" he then -blurted out. "I'll never live this down with you around. Boy! Am I -bright!" - -Dave shook his head in a sheepish gesture and kept his face front so -that Freddy couldn't see its bright color even in the faint pale glow -of the instrument board light. He had started to radio check with -Operations aboard the Victory only to have Freddy's descending hand -and wise-crack wake him up to the fact that the Skua's radio had been -taken out, and that he had actually just been talking into thin air. -The flap-mike was fastened to the lower part of his helmet, but it -wasn't hooked up to anything. - -He mentally kicked himself all over the plane for being so stupid, and -finally turned around to grin at Freddy. - -"You want to change seats after that one?" he asked. - -The English youth grinned, but shook his head. - -"No, I think not," he said. "If that's the worst you do before we're -back, everything will come out all right." - -"It will come out all right!" Dave echoed in a rush of words. "This job -means a lot, Freddy. We can't let the Fleet Air Arm down." - -"We won't," Freddy said, and the look in his eyes said that he meant -just that. - -"Atta boy!" Dave chuckled. "That's the old fight. And don't worry, pal, -I won't let you down, either. Gosh! I'd cut my throat if I did." - -"Oh no, you wouldn't!" Freddy said firmly. - -"No?" - -"No, Dave, my lad," Freddy said, "because I'd jolly well cut it for -you, see? Well, there's the first thread of dawn." - -As Freddy spoke, he pointed toward the east off the left wing. Dave -looked in that direction and saw the thin grey line low down on the -horizon. It was the very first signal that the sun was on its way up -for a new day. Like night, day comes fast in the Middle East. The first -telltale grey line mounts and brightens, and then while you watch a -blaze of color streams up over the horizon and starts racing after the -shadows of night you can actually see if you turn to the west and look. -It is something like the way thunder clouds look sliding down over the -horizon before the slanting rays of the sun that has finally broken -through--bright and golden to one horizon, and dark and murky to the -other. - -Letting the plane more or less fly itself, Dave sat staring toward the -east and watched the dawning of a new day. In an abstract sort of way -he wondered where Freddy and he would be when that sun coming up had -made its journey across the sky and had slid down over the western lip -of the world. Would they be safely back on the Victory? Would they be -at El Aghelia, or Bengazi, or some other British Libyan outpost? Would -they be down on the Libyan sands with nothing but a charred heap of -wreckage for an airplane? Or would they-- - -He shook his head angrily as though to drive away the thoughts. They -came creeping back to him, however. They sneaked up on his brain when -he wasn't suspecting them. And little by little the dangerous side of -this mission crept in to occupy his mind. Back on the Victory he had -simply accepted as a matter of course that the flight would be fraught -with danger. All flights made in war skies were that way. That's why -wars were wars. So even after Group Captain Spencer's repeated words -about the dangers involved, he had refused to give much thought to that -angle of the venture. - -He was giving considerable thought to it now, though, and much against -his will. That there was an eerie trembling at the back of his neck, -and that his heart pounded much too hard, made him furious at himself. -His fury, however, didn't drive away the tantalizing thoughts. There, -just a few miles ahead of him now, was the Libyan coast. Beyond were -miles and miles of hot, blazing desert sands, dotted here and there by -a native village so small you could drop it down into Times Square, New -York, and hardly be able to find it again. And all of those countless -miles of desert were held by the enemy, patrolled by them on the -ground, and in the air. - -The truth of the matter was that he and Freddy were heading straight -into a world where neither man nor nature was their friend. The blazing -sun, and the burning sands, were just as much their foes as a Nazi -tank, or a Nazi plane, or a squad of desert troops. Their only friend, -their only ally, was the Blackburn Skua and its 830 hp. Bristol Pegasus -engine. The plane, the engine, and their own will and ability to -survive. - -"Hey, what are you shaking your head about? Something wrong?" - -He turned at the sound of Freddy's voice and grinned reassuringly. - -"Just thinking things over, and adding up the points on our side," -he said. "You know me! Old Man Cold Feet, once I get started off on -something." - -"Stop fishing for compliments!" Freddy laughed at him. "Your feet -aren't half as cold as mine. And--Uh-uh! Get us some altitude, Dave. -Looks like some kind of a coastal patrol plane down there and to the -right. What do you make of it?" - -Dave leaned forward and to the side and stared downward in the -direction of Freddy's pointed finger. A few thousand feet below a murky -shadow was moving toward the northwest. Though the light was bad, the -shadow was moving too swiftly for it to be any kind of a surface ship. -It was a plane, no doubt about that. However, Dave didn't waste time -to make sure whether it was British or Axis. He pulled the Skua's nose -upward, and fed a bit more fuel to the smooth singing Pegasus engine. - -"Maybe it's just two other guys!" he called back over his shoulder. -"We'll ignore them just the same. Company's something we don't crave. -All set with that camera, Freddy? The sun's coming up fast, and you -never can tell how soon we might spot something." - -"All set, and ready to start clicking!" the English youth replied. "You -show me something, and I'll do the rest. I'm a whiz at this sort of -thing, you'll understand." - -"Let you know about that after I see some of the results!" Dave -chuckled, and held the Skua in its long climb up over the coastline of -Libya. - -An hour later they were deep over the desert and the sun was a brassy -ball that touched the sweeping sands below with fingers of fire. Dave's -eyes ached and smarted from the constant glare, despite the sun lenses -he had slipped on over the glass of his goggles. They had long since -shoved open the cockpit hood, because, though it was uncomfortable in -the steady beat of the sun's rays, it was like flying along inside a -baker's oven when the hood was shut. - -An hour's flight over the desert, and nothing but sand, sand, and more -sand. Here and there dark streaks had marked rocky strips that pushed -up through the burning sands. And a few tiny dots from their altitude -were clumps of desert bush, and a dried up oasis or two. But they -didn't sight a single village, though they strained their eyes until -they ached almost unbearably. And as far as troops, tanks, and other -motorized equipment went, they might just as well have been coasting -around over the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. - -There just wasn't anything below them but sand during the first hour of -patrol. And the scene was not one bit changed at the end of the second -hour. As a matter of fact, the scene was so much the same Dave had the -crazy feeling they had been hovering motionless in the same spot of air -for time on end. For the last twenty minutes neither of them had spoken -a word. To talk was an effort and, besides, there was so little to talk -about save the one thought that each kept to himself, the one gnawing -fear within each. It was the mounting realization that failure of the -mission was beginning to hover in the offing. - -For two solid hours, during which time they had covered countless -square miles of enemy territory, they hadn't sighted a single thing -worth remembering. No troop depots, no desert outposts, no roving tank -patrols, and not even any enemy aircraft. That last, the fact they had -not sighted a single Italian or Nazi plane in the air, plagued Dave -and caused the fingers of worry to play upon his tightly drawn nerves. -True, they had not flown close to Tripoli, or anywhere near it. Perhaps -Tripoli was overflowing with Axis planes and mechanized desert units. -That wasn't the point. That wasn't the reason Freddy and he had been -sent out on this scouting patrol. - -The British High Command knew that troops and equipment had been -assembled at Tripoli. What the High Command didn't know was _if_ any -of those units had moved out into the desert, and where, and in what -numbers. It stood to reason that the Axis High Command in Libya hadn't -kept them bottled up in the Tripoli area for fear of surprise attack by -Wavell's forces. That was foolish, if for no other reason than the fact -that over four hundred miles of desert lay between the most advanced -British outpost and the Tripoli garrison. - -It was a dead sure thing that parts of the Axis forces had moved out -into the desert, and had established communication lines with the main -base. Yet-- - -"Yet there's not a single sign of them!" Dave spoke the thought aloud. -"Not a gosh darn sign--unless we're stone blind, and can't see beyond -our noses!" - -"What did you say, Dave?" he heard Freddy ask. - -He turned in the seat and shrugged. - -"Just talking aloud," he said. "This business is getting me down. Why -haven't we seen anything? Even a village would help. But it's all as -blank as a sheet of paper--yeah, a sheet of sand paper. Look, Freddy, -I'm just about making up my mind to something." - -"To go back?" Freddy asked, and a worried look stole into his eyes. - -"Back, nothing!" Dave snorted. "We've still got gas. We're not licked -by a darn sight. No, that isn't the idea. Look, we've covered a lot -of ground. If we've passed over Axis forces in any of the areas we've -checked, then they must have tunneled out from Tripoli, by gosh, and -are still underground. That's crazy, of course, so it leaves us one -more thing to try." - -"Well?" Freddy grunted as Dave paused. "I'm waiting. Let's have it." - -"The Tripoli area," Dave said promptly. "Let's get us some more -altitude and sneak up on Tripoli as closely as we can without being -spotted. If we don't spot anything there, then we can be pretty sure -that the Tripoli rumors are so much hog-wash." - -"I doubt that last," Freddy said gravely. "The High Command must be -pretty sure, rather, dead sure, that something's up, else Fleet Air Arm -Command wouldn't have agreed for the Victory to pull out of line and go -steaming off on its own." - -"Yes, I guess that's true," Dave nodded, and scowled. "But I'm still in -favor of sneaking up on the Tripoli area if we can. And for a couple of -reasons, too." - -"Such as?" the English youth prompted as Dave hesitated. - -"Well, first for a look-see at the area," Dave explained presently. -"Second because it will take us back toward the coast. It was still -pretty dark when we flew in over the coast, and--well, it's just a -guess that the Nazis _may_ be sneaking along the coastline. Maybe -they're not circling down toward the south and up to flank Wavell's -advance forces. Get what I mean?" - -"Instantly!" Freddy exclaimed, and his tired eyes lighted up. "I'm -tipping my topper to you, my lad. Yes, I believe you're right. They -may be sneaking along the coast, just far enough inland to prevent -observation from the sea. Yes, let's head back that way, by all means. -Good grief, anything would be better than this tooting around over -the blasted desert down there. It's like standing in front of a blast -furnace with the door open!" - -"Ten times worse!" Dave muttered, and started banking the Skua around -and up in a climb for altitude. "Boy! I'd sure like to pick the next -spot for Hitler and his big bums to invade. I'd get me a transfer to -duty there so fast it would make your head swim." - -"And where would that be?" Freddy asked. - -"The North Pole," Dave said. "Gee! Nice cool air spilling into the -cockpit. And a--Hey! _Freddy!_" - -Dave bellowed the last and sat up straight in the seat. The English -youth jumped in alarm and banged his head on one of the cowling braces. - -"Good grief, what?" he choked out. "What's the matter?" - -"Plenty!" Dave snapped back over his shoulder, and at the same time -wheeled the Skua around in a quick turn. "Trouble in six different -packages. To your right and up! Take a look! Busting down out of the -sun. And they aren't sea gulls, either. Buckle your safety strap and -get set, Freddy!" - -The English youth did just that as he jerked his head around and -squinted up toward the sun. He was blinded for a second or so by the -brassy glare, but he performed the well known war pilot's trick that -makes it possible to spot planes sliding down out of the sun. You close -one eye and then hold the thumb of your free hand four or five inches -in front of the eye you keep open. The ball of your thumb covers the -sun and permits you to see planes diving down in its glare. You can't -do it for very long because there is still enough glare to get into -your eyes. However, you can stare in the direction of the sun long -enough to spot what you want to see. - -Anyway, Freddy pulled that sun "eclipsing" stunt and saw the six planes -streaking down toward the Skua. They were just moving blurs at first, -but in a second or so they took on definite shapes and outlines. He -lowered his thumb and eyes and swung to man his rear guns. - -"Three Nazi Henschel reconnaissance jobs!" he shouted at Dave. "And -three Italian Breda Sixty-Fives. How in thunder did they get up there -in the sun?" - -"Don't ask me!" Dave called out, and slid the safety catch off his gun -trigger button. "Maybe they've been up there all the time, and just -now spotted us. I don't know. But, brother, I'm not going to bother -about asking them. Hang on, Freddy! I'm first going to try and give -them the slip. Gee! Running away from Muzzy pilots and Jerry pilots. -But there'll come another day." - -"That's what you think!" Freddy shouted. "It's already here, my lad!" - - - - -CHAPTER SEVEN - -_Fate Laughs Last_ - - -Freddy Farmer had not shouted a lie, nor had it been an attempt at a -kidding wise-crack. Even as his words became lost in the roar of the -Pegasus engine, the yammer of _Rheinmettal-Borsigs_, the German aerial -machine gun, and _Breda-Safats_, the Italian aerial machine gun, filled -the desert air. Out of the corner of his eye Dave saw tracer bullet -smoke weave downward well clear of the Skua, and a tight grin of relief -came to his lips. - -The attacking planes had had the advantage of surprise, and they had -been able to get in the first shots, but even with those two things in -their favor the enemy pilots has missed badly. That made it instantly -obvious that they were not seasoned air fighters. - -"That's a small break for us, anyway," Dave grunted, and hauled the -Skua up and around in a prop clawing climbing turn. "But there's still -six of them, so this isn't going to be any waltz. Okay, Jerry, let this -give you an idea you weren't invited!" - -As the last left Dave's lips, he ruddered slightly to the left and -pressed his trigger release button. His four Vickers guns cowled into -the wing spat flame and sound, and a German Henschel, in the act of -banking off to twist back and charge downward, was caught square in the -burst of bullets. The Nazi craft seemed to jerk sideways for a split -second. Then almost instantly it continued around and down--and kept -right on going down, leaving behind a long trail of oily black smoke. - -"And then there were five!" Freddy sang out. "Well done, Dave. Uh-uh! -No you don't, my little Italian bambino! I've been waiting for you. Oh, -very much so!" - -Freddy Farmer's rear guns barked out their message of war, and one of -the Italian Bredas was smacked on the wing like a clay pigeon. It acted -as though it had been hit by a couple of battleship salvos instead of -machine gun bullets. Or perhaps it was because the Italian pilot at the -controls went a little bit crazy in his frantic efforts to yank his -plane out of Freddy's deadly fire. At any rate the 870 hp. Gnome-Rhone -fitted Italian Breda went spinning nose over rudder post across the -sky. The violent maneuver was too much for the ship. The monoplane -wings sheared off as though some invisible giant had slashed them off -with a knife. Instantly the wingless fuselage pointed its nose downward -and dropped like a bomb. - -Freddy didn't wait to see if the pilot and gunner were able to bail -out. The two other Henschels had swerved in close by then and were -spraying the Skua with a shower of hissing bullets as Dave slammed the -plane through a full roll and then took advantage of the British ship's -superior speed and power and zoomed straight up at the vertical. The -zoom maneuver completely threw the Henschel pilots off guard, and as -the Skua rocketed upward Freddy swung his guns around and raked one of -the Henschels from prop to tail. The German craft seemed to stop dead -in midair. Then the starboard strut between the right bottom and top -wings buckled in the middle as though hit with a sharp axe. A second -later the two wings folded together. The plane lurched drunkenly off -to that side and then slowly rolled over and down into a spin. That's -the last either of the boys saw of it. There was still one Nazi and two -Italian planes in the air, and the loss of the three other ships seemed -to add to the savage fury of the attack of their pilots and gunners. - -They slashed up toward the zooming Skua with all guns blazing. Dave and -Freddy heard the nickel-jacketed bullets rip and chew their way into -their plane. Twice the Skua seemed to falter, but each time it kept on -going upward. Finally Dave shook his head and kicked the plane over and -down out of its zoom and sent it corkscrewing off to the left. - -"Can't shake those guys!" he shouted back at Freddy. "They must have -hopped up their engines, or something. Anyway, they've got more speed -and power than I figured. We've got to fight it out with them, Freddy. -There's no chance to shake them off." - -"Okay by me!" the English youth shouted back. "Just beginning to enjoy -myself, anyway. Tell you what, Dave! Go after that German beggar. If we -put him out of business I fancy those Italian lads won't hang around -very long." - -"Just the idea I had in mind!" Dave said with a nod. "Mussolini's -pilots are tough on pigeons and maybe crows, but that's about all. -Okay, there's the little Nazi. I'll smack him and force him to turn -off. Then you give him the works as we go by. You know, the old team -work!" - -"Right you are!" Freddy cried, and crouched over his guns. "The old -team work it'll be!" - -Stepping hard on rudder, Dave sticked the Skua up on wing and hauled it -around in a vertical bank to the right. The terrific speed of the turn -caused his eyeballs to start to roll up backwards in their sockets, and -for a split second or so he almost went blind, or had a "black-out," -as the R.A.F. expression terms it. He eased off the speed of the turn, -however, and the pinkish haze that was starting to film his eyes faded -away until he could see clearly again. - -"Hey, no more of that!" came Freddy's warning shout. "You'll have us -blind as bats, maneuvering at such speed. Then we'll be easy pickings -for those lads." - -"Sorry, Freddy!" Dave sang out, and started to drop the nose. "Forgot -for a second I had you along. Won't do it again." - -"Be sure you don't!" Freddy cried. "Okay, Dave, let him have it! I'm -all set for the finishing touches." - -Dave didn't even hear the last. He had hunched forward and was -giving every bit of his attention to the last Nazi Henschel biplane -reconnaissance ship that was banking over and off the top of a power -zoom. The instant it was square in his sights, he jabbed the trigger -release button. He saw his tracers slice into the plane just in back of -the B.M.W. 132 radial engine. Before he could rudder enough to bring -the pilot's cockpit and the observer-gunner's cockpit into his sights, -the German had wheeled to the left and down. - -At perhaps a thousand other times that would have been the perfect -maneuver for the German pilot to make. This time, however, was the -exception. In fact, because of the Skua's terrific diving speed, the -German pilot actually made the worst maneuver possible. Dave simply -held the Skua in its thundering power dive and let Freddy Farmer do the -rest. And the English youth was not asleep. He brought his guns to bear -on the Henschel as they flashed by and practically cut the Nazi ship in -two with his steady, relentless, furious fire. Flame shot out of the -Henschel and leaped up toward the sky. A huge ball of smoke completely -enveloped the plane. When the wind caught the smoke and blew it away, -the Henschel just wasn't there any more. It was simply a shower of -smouldering embers slithering down toward the blazing sands. - -"I thought so, I thought so!" Freddy's wild cry came to Dave's ears. -"There they go! And will you just look at those blasted beggars hop it! -Three cheers for Mussolini and the Italian Air Force!" - -Dave pulled the Skua out of its dive and twisted around to look in -the direction of Freddy's pointed finger. What had been two Italian -Breda Sixty-Fives a few moments before were now just two dots against -the brassy Libyan sky, and becoming smaller and smaller as they moved -swiftly toward the west. Even as Dave watched them, with a scornful -grin of his lips, the two dots faded out of view completely. - -"So now what?" he presently asked Freddy. "Do we head for the Tripoli -area, or do we start drifting northward toward the nearest British -outpost?" - -The English youth didn't answer at once. He leaned forward and looked -over Dave's shoulder at the instrument board. He frowned slightly and -absently fingered the high speed aerial camera fitted to the right side -of his cockpit and pointing downward through a port opening in the -floor of the pit. - -"I see that we've still another hour's flight in the petrol tanks," -he said, looking at Dave. "Another hour before we have to head north -for the Victory rendezvous. If you're asking me, I say let's head for -Tripoli. Let's have a look along the coast, anyway. Hey! What the -dickens are you chuckling at, you funny-looking ape?" - -Dave wiped the grin off his face and looked surprised. - -"Who, me?" he asked innocently. - -"Yes, you!" Freddy said with a nod. "Out with it! What's so funny?" - -Dave chuckled again and pointed at Freddy's hand still fingering the -camera. - -"You," he said. "What a guy! With maybe the fate of the entire Middle -East hanging in the balance, all the lad can think of is taking -pictures!" - -"Rot!" the English youth exploded, but a faint flush seeped into his -cheeks. "But, blast it, that's part of the job we're supposed to do, -isn't it? And we both agreed that was our last chance, didn't we?" - -"Okay, okay, little man!" Dave said, and raised a hand in token of -surrender. "Keep your shirt on, and stop biting my head off. So help -me, I'll find something for you to snap with your precious camera. -I'll--" - -Dave never finished the last. At that moment the Bristol Pegasus engine -in the nose coughed and made a rasping sound that sent cold chills -slicing up and down Dave's spine despite the burning glare of the -desert sun. He locked eyes with Freddy for a brief instant and then -twisted his head front and looked at the instrument board. The answer -showed on the dial of the oil pressure gauge. The needle was swinging -around the dial toward the zero mark like the floor indicator of an -express elevator on the way down to street level. - -"Well, I guess the blighters were darn good shots, at that," he heard -Freddy comment as the engine coughed a couple of times more and then -began to die out in a long metallic sigh. - -An instant later it was as though an invisible little imp hiding under -the engine cowling had stuck the end of a parted oil line through the -instrument board into Dave's cockpit. A spurt of hot black liquid -went streaming out and down past his legs. He jerked his legs aside -in a flash, whipped off the ignition and yanked back the throttle in -practically a continuation of the same movement. Then, as the oil -ceased spurting back into the pit, he sticked the plane down into a -long flat glide and turned to Freddy again. - -"Can I let you off any place, sir?" he asked with a tight, forced grin -on his lips. - -Freddy blinked as though forcing back the tears of bitter defeat and -failure that sprang to his eyes. Then he grinned weakly, and nodded. - -"Why, yes, if you'll be so kind," he said. "On the deck of an aircraft -carrier named Victory. You wouldn't mind?" - -"_I_ wouldn't mind a bit," Dave replied. "But these horses we have -up front don't want to work any more. Seriously, Freddy, what do you -think?" - -"About what?" the English youth asked in an innocent tone. - -Dave scowled at him. - -"Cut it out!" he growled. "You know what I mean. Okay, if you won't -talk, then I will. We've got to destroy this ship, haven't we? Okay. -I say the heck with bailing out and dropping down with all the stuff -we'll need down there in the desert. Also, it may be hard to fire the -ship before we go over the side. Let's land the bus and take our time -selecting the stuff we want to take on the tramp back to--" - -Dave stopped short, swallowed hard, and cast a quick glance down at the -vast expanse of desert sand waiting below to receive them. - -"Stuff we need on the walk back to the nearest British outpost," he -finally finished the sentence. "Well? What do you say?" - -"The same thing," Freddy said, and made his lips smile. "Didn't you -hear me? Besides, I never did like jumping by parachute. Scares the -life out of me, you know." - -Dave looked at the cool, calm expression in the English youth's eyes, -and at the grim set of his jaws. - -"Yeah," he murmured with a chuckle. "I just bet bailing out scares the -pants off you. And probably eating an ice cream soda does the same -thing, you old soldier. Okay, then, we'll take the bus downstairs and -sit down on the sand." - -The two boys smiled at each other, but each could see that there was -no joy in the other's eyes. Instead there was a look of bitterness and -helpless rage that neither could keep from showing through. The one -thing they had feared most had come to pass. Their Skua wasn't of any -more use to them now. They were on their way down into the middle of -a desert wilderness. And after what. Nothing. They had accomplished -nothing during the three hours and some odd minutes that had passed -since taking off from the flight deck of the Victory. For all the good -they had accomplished, for all the enemy information they had obtained, -they might just as well have stayed aboard the carrier. - -It was no use trying to dodge the truth. They had failed in their -mission completely, and now they were on their way down to battle for -their lives against the enemy desert and the enemy sun. - -"Thumbs up, Freddy!" Dave suddenly said in a steady voice. "We're not -admitting defeat yet--no, not by a darn sight." - -"Certainly not!" the English youth echoed. "I've always wanted to see -what it was like in the middle of a desert, anyway. So take me down, my -good man. I want to stretch my legs." - -Dave grinned and winked and then turned front and gave his attention to -flying. He circled the ship around and headed it due north at a gliding -angle that was just a degree or two above the stalling point. Safety -lay to the north, and the farther he could stretch the plane's glide in -that direction the less the number of miles Freddy and he would have to -plod over the desert sands. - -Holding the ship steady, he hunched forward in the seat and stared -hard and long at the uninviting expanse of desert that stretched out -on all sides toward the four horizons. Half a dozen times he thought -he saw dark splotches down on the sand--dots and darkish shapes that -might possibly mark the location of a village, or perhaps even an Axis -(German-Italian) desert outpost. But when he tried to get a better -look, the rays of the sun reflecting upward from the shimmering sand -made his eyes smart and water, and everything to swim around in his -gaze. - -Inch by inch he eased the plane downward as slowly as he dared, -and used every bit of his flying skill to stretch the glide as far -northward as possible. No airplane, however, can remain aloft without -the use of its engine, and the Skua's engine was dead for keeps. And -so after a certain length of time the desert was only a few hundred -feet beneath the wheels he had cranked down out of the wing. At that -low altitude the desert ceased to be flat and smooth as a sheet of ice. -Dave saw that it was very much ridged by sand dunes built up by desert -storms. And he saw also that there actually was considerable shrubbery -about. But of course it was desert growth, and so bleached and whitened -by the hot rays of the sun and the drifting sand that the stuff blended -in perfectly with the sand. Unless you were practically down in it, you -could very easily miss it altogether. - -"Okay, Freddy, hang onto your hat!" Dave shouted as he eased the plane -up out of its gliding angle and prepared to sit down on the sand. "This -is it. Here we go!" - -"Fire away!" came the English youth's reply. "I'm hanging on!" - -For a couple of split seconds the plane hung motionless in the air as -though it were suddenly reluctant to settle. Then it sank down the few -remaining feet, bounced lightly twice, and rolled forward to a gentle -stop. Dave didn't have to bother about applying the wheel brakes. The -wheels sank two or three inches into the sand, and that action served -enough for brakes. - -As soon as the plane came to a full stop, Dave and Freddy started -gathering up what few things they had brought in the event of just such -an emergency as this. They tossed their helmets onto the cockpit floor -and put on the small but very useful army pith helmets. They wiggled -out of their parachute harness, and fastened their precious water -bottles to their belts. They made sure that they had taken out every -bit of the compact emergency rations brought along, and checked to make -sure that they had knives, compass, and their automatics. - -Finally they had everything they needed. Dave started to leg down onto -the sand, but suddenly dropped back in his seat and stared at Freddy -out of miserable eyes. - -"I once saw a man shoot a horse that had broken its leg," he said in -a strained voice. "He was really and truly crying as he pulled the -trigger. I was pretty young at the time, and I couldn't figure out why -he'd shoot the horse if it made him feel so badly. I thought at the -time he must be crazy, and I got scared pink and ran all the way home -without stopping. I know now why he shot that horse, and--and I guess I -sort of know, too, just how he felt." - -Freddy swallowed and nodded silently. Dave impulsively reached out and -touched the cockpit rim with his hand. - -"Sort of like that horse, old girl," he mumbled in a low voice. "We -can't leave you here to fall into enemy hands. So we've got to put you -out of the way--yeah, sort of out of your misery, I guess you could -call it. The desert, and the Nazis, would only do you harm, if they -found you. So--so long." - -"Let's get on with it, Dave," Freddy said after a moment's silence, and -legged out onto the sand. - -Five minutes later the Bristol-powered Blackburn Skua was an inferno of -flame and black smoke that towered high up into the brassy desert sky. -Dave and Freddy were many yards away, heading northward. Not once did -either of them turn their heads to look back at the blazing plane that -the fortunes of war had forced them to destroy and abandon. - - - - -CHAPTER EIGHT - -_Blazing Sands_ - - -"Well, I've had my fill!" Freddy gasped. "I can jolly well tell you, -I've had my fill." - -The two pilots had been tramping across the sand for a little over -two hours, and Freddy Farmer had suddenly come to a halt and wiped a -bucketful of sand-washed sweat from his face. Dave stopped and looked -at him questioningly. - -"Fill of what?" he asked. "What do you mean, or is the sun getting you?" - -"I said I'd always wanted to see what it was like in the middle of the -desert," the English youth replied with a grimace. "Well, I've had a -look, and I can tell you I'm fed up with it, no end. How far do you -think we'll have to go with this sand walking business, anyway?" - -"Oh, not so far!" Dave said in a cheery voice. "Eight or nine hundred -miles, I guess. Maybe an even thousand." - -Freddy shot him a look of withering scorn. - -"Only that far?" he snapped. "I thought it would be at least a couple -of thousand miles. If what you say is true, we should be there by -sundown, easy. But, no fooling, Dave, I'm done in something awful. I -could sit down and rest for a week." - -"Me, too, Freddy," Dave agreed. "But if we sit down here on the sand -under this sun, we'll be fried to a crisp. Come on, fellow, up and at -'em, huh?" - -"Who said anything about sitting down here?" Freddy said indignantly, -and pointed. "Look over there. Lots of desert bush, and plenty of shade -for both of us. What do you say?" - -Dave scowled and looked in the direction of Freddy's pointed hand. He -himself was also desperately tired, and he knew that to continue on -under the blazing sun would take more out of the two of them than they -could spare. Yet some inner force urged him to go on; to keep Freddy -moving forward. Why, he had not the slightest idea. There was just some -little voice within him that begged, pleaded, and commanded him to keep -on moving northward. - -"They sure look inviting, Freddy," he said in a weary voice as he eyed -the huge clump of thick desert bush about a hundred yards away. "But -I've got a hunch that we should keep going." - -"You and your hunches!" Freddy groaned. "What difference does half an -hour make, I'd like to know? Don't get the idea I'm being a quitter, -Dave. Nothing like that, really. Fact is, I'm trying to be sensible. -We're not trained for this sort of thing. If we bite off too much at -one time, we may pay dearly for our foolishness. Let's rest a bit in -the shade of those bushes, such as it is, and then have another go at -this blasted tramping." - -"Okay," Dave finally relented. "I guess you're right at that. No -sense burning ourselves out this early in the game. Okay, we'll--Hold -everything, Freddy!" - -As Dave shouted the last he put up both hands as a shield for his -aching eyes and peered hard toward the northwest. - -"What is it, Dave?" Freddy cried eagerly. "What do you see?" - -"I don't know," Freddy said slowly. "I'm not sure at all. Take a look -in the direction I'm pointing, Freddy. Call it a mile, or so, over -there. What do you make of that darkish streak over there? Say! That's -a ledge of rock, and covered with desert bushes, or I'm a Chinaman." - -Freddy cupped his own hands to his eyes and strained them in that -direction. - -"You're no Chinaman, Dave!" he cried presently. "That's rock sure -enough. Looks like a plateau split right down through the middle, but -you can't tell in this blasted sun." - -"What do you say we make for it?" Dave said. "If it's what it looks -like, it'll give us more shade than those desert bushes over there. And -the sun is getting close to high noon in that darn sky up there. In an -hour or so your bushes won't be worth a darn. What do you say? Shall we -pull up the old socks and try to reach that place, huh?" - -Freddy sighed and shrugged resignedly. - -"Right you are," he murmured. "But I certainly wish I could learn to -say no now and then to your wild propositions. I'd certainly save a lot -of wear and tear on myself. Right-o, my little hero. Lead the way. I'm -right at your heels. Phew, if these poor blistered feet of mine were -only walking the flight deck of the Victory right now. How wonderful, -how delicious that would be!" - -"Shut up!" Dave growled at him, and started plodding across the -seemingly endless expanse of sand. "You'll have me blubbering like a -kid in a minute." - -A little under an hour later, the two boys had very definitely learned -something else about the Libyan desert, or any other desert, for that -matter. It was that, when you think some spot is a certain number of -miles away from you, you can just multiply your guess by at least six, -and the answer will _still be less_ than the actual distance. The glare -of the sun, the shimmering heat waves rising up from the sand, plus the -flatness of the desert, fool you completely when it comes to judging -distances between two points. - -"This is sure a long mile!" Freddy broke a five minute silence. "Or -have we been walking in circles? My compass says not, but maybe the -heat's got it, too." - -"You and me both!" Dave groaned, and nodded his head. "It's been -looking only a mile away for the last twenty minutes. I'm sorry, -Freddy. I guess the desert is a tricky spot. How're you doing? We've -got to keep going now, you know. If we stop, we're done for." - -Freddy wiped hot hands across his equally hot face. There was not even -the comfort of sweating, now. No sooner did a bead of sweat ooze out on -their bodies than the heat dried it up. From head to foot every square -inch of their skin felt like a piece of bacon in a frying pan that a -good housewife forgot all about before she left for the movies. Even -though they wore desert sun glasses, their eyes felt as though they -were exposed to the direct rays of the brassy ball of fire in the sky. -Each step was an effort, for their leg joints seemed sapped of all body -lubricants. And every now and then, to add to their torture, a little -flurry of wind would spring up as though by magic and hurl a swirling -cloud of hot stinging sand directly into their faces. However, each new -little discomfort that rose up to torture them only served to feed fuel -to the flame of resoluteness and grim determination that burned within -them. - -"Am I right or wrong, pal?" Dave asked when Freddy did not speak. - -"Your turn to shut up!" the English youth grunted. "I'm not quitting -until you do, my American friend. Matter of fact, though, I think the -blasted spot does seem a bit closer." - -"Me, too," Dave cried, and increased the pace. "Come on, Freddy. The -old whirlwind finish. Yes, it _is_ closer. I'd say only about--" - -"Don't say it!" Freddy begged. "Let's stop guessing and not break our -hearts. Let's just walk. What's the matter? Can't you go faster than -that?" - -Dave grinned happily as the English youth increased his stride and went -sailing into the lead. Just like old Freddy Farmer. Groans and gripes -a bit, and then before you know it he's making you look like the one -who's groaning and griping. - -"Tough guy, huh?" Dave chuckled, and drew up on a level with Freddy's -shoulder. "Maybe you want to sprint the rest of the way? Well, skip it, -pal. This pace is fast enough for me. Boy! Only a couple of minutes -more. And look, Freddy! It's like a regular cliff. Two cliffs, with a -valley in between. Gosh! What do you know! A canyon cut into this darn -flat desert." - -"Think again, Dave," Freddy said with a smile. "Better still, turn -around and take a look. I did. We've really been walking uphill, to the -top of a plateau formation of ground. Those cliffs are the two sides of -a crack that time has made in the plateau formation of ground. Just as -unexplainable as why you suddenly come across an oasis with water and -palm trees in the middle of a barren desert." - -At Freddy's suggestion Dave turned around and looked back in the -direction whence they had come. It was then he realized the truth -of the English youth's words. Instead of standing on a flat, almost -shapeless desert, they were actually standing near the crest of a long -sloping hill. True, the slope was marked by countless sand dunes kicked -up by the desert winds, but it was still easy to see that they were -a good couple of hundred feet higher than they had been when they'd -started out. To make sure it all wasn't just a trick his eyes and the -desert sun were playing on him, he turned front again and looked at -the brownish slash that marked the split in the plateau and formed the -escarpment. The brownish slash in the desert was the highest piece of -ground before his eyes. Beyond, he could see only Libyan sky and the -brassy glare of the sun. That was so because he was actually looking -uphill. - -"Well, what do you know!" he exclaimed, and grinned at Freddy. "No -wonder my legs feel ready to drop off. We've been plowing uphill and -didn't know it." - -"The desert is full of tricks," the English youth said with a shrug. -"And all of them mean ones, too. Well, let's get on with it. Won't be -long now." - -It turned out to be longer than that, however. Another twenty minutes -passed by into time history before they reached the top of the -escarpment and stood looking down its side. The canyon was about -seventy-five yards long, perhaps thirty-five feet deep, and a hundred -feet wide at the top. The two sides were formed of jagged rock with -treacherous spots of crumpling sand-stone here and there. There was -plenty of brush and shrubbery about, however, and it was thick enough -to cast patches of shade regardless of the burning rays of the sun. One -point struck them at once as being an ideal spot where they could relax -and rest until the sun was deep in the west, and the cooling winds of -night were beginning to steal across the desert. It was to their left -and about halfway down. A shelf of rock jutted outward a bit. As a -matter of fact, it was really two shelves of rock that jutted out. The -bottom one served as a platform upon which to rest. And the top shelf, -rimmed with thick desert bush, served as a roof, a sort of canopy for -the shelf lower down. Fortunately the side of the escarpment was not -too steep to make it impossible for them to reach the lower shelf. - -"That's us, Freddy!" Dave exclaimed, and pointed to it. "We'll get down -there and be cliff dwellers until it's cool enough to start getting -underway again. I vote that we get down there pronto, and have a bit to -eat and a little water. That's our biggest danger--water. We must save -every drop we can. Who knows when--" - -Dave stopped short, and a horrified look leaped into his eyes. He -pointed his finger at Freddy and worked his mouth, but no words came -from his lips. The English youth stared at him and impulsively -recoiled a step in surprise and amazement. - -"Dave, what's the matter?" he gasped out. "Dave! Come out of it! What -in the world?" - -Dave gulped and shook his head as though to snap himself out of his -stunned trance. - -"Your water bottle, Freddy!" he blurted out. "Look! It's leaking! The -canvas cover is dripping wet at the bottom. When did you do that?" - -The English youth didn't bother to reply. He reached down and took hold -of the canvas-covered water canteen slung at his belt. The bottom half -was dripping wet, though the burning rays of the sun were doing their -best to drink up every drop of moisture. As Freddy tilted it bottom -side up, both boys saw the tiny slash in the canvas covering and the -even smaller crack in the metal underneath. - -"I can tell by the weight," Freddy said in a tight, strained voice. -"There's no more than a cupful left. Talk about luck! Blast it!" - -Dave nodded and said nothing. There was no mystery as to how the canvas -had been slashed and the metal canteen split so that the precious water -had seeped out a drop at a time as Freddy plodded across the sands. It -was obvious that a made-in-Germany bullet, or a made-in-Italy bullet -had done the work. A stray bullet, a bullet in a thousand during that -air scrap had cut through into the Skua's cockpit and nicked the bottom -of Freddy's water canteen. It had creased the metal, but not enough to -leave an opening through which the water could escape. No, it hadn't -cut all the way through, but later the bumping of the canteen against -Freddy's leg as he trudged across the sand had caused the paper thin -layer of metal left to part and crack and allow the water to seep -through. - -"Blast the Jerry or Muzzy gunner who did that!" Freddy grated through -clenched teeth. - -"I'm hoping it was one of them we got!" Dave grunted. "Well, my water -canteen's still okay. We'll just have to go extra easy with the -drinking. It's not your fault, anyway. Let's forget it and get down -there. I'm beginning to feel more like a grease spot every second. -We'll split what's in your canteen for our first drink, and then take -turns at mine, later. Come on. And hold that canteen bottom side up as -you climb down." - -"Have no fear of that!" the English youth said grimly. "It would have -to be my _water canteen_, wouldn't it! It couldn't be my leg, or an -arm, or maybe my neck." - -Dave laughed and slapped him on the back. - -"Chin and thumbs up, pal!" he cried. "Forget it! We'll just make -believe we're a couple of camels. They go for days without water, you -know." - -"Oh, quite!" Freddy grunted. "But who wants to be a blinking camel? -However, right you are. Let's get out of this sun, anyway." - -Ten minutes later the two boys had safely reached the shelter of the -lower ledge of rock. It wasn't cool and comfortable, by any manner of -means. As a matter of fact, it was something like squatting down on -the top of a stove that hasn't been out for very long. Regardless of -that, however, it was like an icebox compared to the direct rays of the -blistering sun above, and the blistering heat of the shifting sands -beneath their feet. - -"Boy, oh boy!" Dave sighed wearily. "The first thing I'm going to do is -get off these shoes. What I wouldn't give for the Kind Fairy to wave -her magic wand and create a nice, cool babbling brook to dip these dogs -in. Gosh! I--" - -"Hold still, Dave!" Freddy suddenly cried. "Hold still! Don't move a -muscle!" - -Dave, in the act of putting his hands in back of him to serve as a -brace while he arched his body backwards, froze motionless and look -wild-eyed at Freddy. - -"What's the matter?" he asked in a hoarse whisper. - -Freddy didn't reply. He simply shook his head, and picked up one of -his shoes he had taken off. He gripped it by the toe and leaned slowly -around in back of Dave. Then in a sudden movement he cracked the heel -of the shoe down on the rock with a resounding smack. - -"There!" he breathed, straightening up. "That takes care of that little -beggar." - -"Hey, what gives, anyway?" Dave gulped and frowned. "You playing games -or something?" - -"Hardly!" Freddy said dryly. "I was simply saving you a lot of pain, -and perhaps something worse than that. Take a look." - -Dave twisted around, half expecting to see a squad of Nazi soldiers -crouching behind him. What he really saw was the mashed body of a -three-inch long lizzard-like creature. It looked like a cross between -a lizzard and a grasshopper, and there was a suggestion of a lobster -about it, too. The body was long and tapering, like that of a lizzard. -At the head two tiny horns with lobster-like claws at the end stuck out -in front. And there were four long legs on either side of the body. - -"Gosh, what's that?" he asked. "Some kind of a desert bug?" - -"The worst you can meet in the desert," Freddy replied. "It's a -scorpion. See that barbed point that forms the end of his tail? That's -his stinger. You can see it's sort of hook shaped. Well, he strikes -with it by whipping it up over his back. Five minutes after a scorpion -stings you, you're in horrible pain, and your whole body begins to -swell up. It can easily be fatal unless you get medical attention at -once. You were about to put your hand right down on top of it, my -friend." - -Dave's face paled, and he shuddered violently. - -"Gee!" he breathed in an awed tone. "Gee whiz! Remind me to remember -you in my will, Freddy. Gosh! The enemy is just a small part of what -you have to fight in desert warfare, I'll say. Boy, oh boy, Freddy, -you're my pal for life, and no fooling. Wow." - -"I was just lucky enough to spot it in time," Freddy said. Then, -getting to his feet, "I think, though, we'd better search this place to -see if it has any brothers or sister hanging around. In case I do fall -asleep, I'd hate to wake up with one of the beggars sitting on my nose." - -"Sleep?" echoed Dave, as they started searching the shelf of rock, and -gripped a shoe ready for action. "I won't do any sleeping. After that -close call I'll have the jitters for a week." - -Freddy just grinned and said nothing. The search took about fifteen -minutes, but no brother or sister scorpions were found lurking about -ready to avenge a death in the family. So presently they relaxed again, -ate some of their emergency rations, and each drank half of the water -left in Freddy's bullet-creased canteen. - -"Well, that sure helped," Dave said, leaning back against the shelf -wall. "I'm beginning to feel like a new man already. Now, if that sun -will only slide into high gear and get across that sky, everything will -be jake." - -"Don't hurry the sun," Freddy murmured, and stretched out. "I'm -perfectly comfortable right here. It can take as long as it likes. But -it's a bit of a mess, isn't it, Dave? We sure let the Victory down." - -"Yeah," Dave grunted, and felt his eyelids growing strangely heavy. "We -sure turned out to be just a couple of foul balls. But we're not licked -yet. We've got our strength, something to eat, and some water. Maybe -when it gets a bit--gets a bit--a bit cooler--" - - - - -CHAPTER NINE - -_Wings From Tripoli_ - - -A faint buzzing sound penetrating Dave's ears pried his eyelids open. -For a second or two he stared bewildered at Freddy Farmer's motionless -body a couple of feet from him, at the shelf of rock upon which he -found himself, and out across a short rocky valley to a wall of jagged -rock studded with sun-scorched brush on the other side. Then, like a -door in his brain being opened, memory rushed back. Sure, of course! -He had dropped off to sleep in spite of his jitters from the deadly -scorpion episode. And a funny buzzing sound had awakened him. - -He remained perfectly still for another moment, his ears strained and -listening intently to the buzzing sound. At the end of that moment he -realized what it was. Not a bee, or a hornet, or anything like that. -The sound came from the engine of an airplane high overhead. He got to -his feet and walked over to the edge of the rock shelf where he could -stare up into the sky. It was then he realized that he hadn't had any -cat-nap. The sun was well down toward the western lip of the desert and -the sky was slowly being painted with streaks of gold, and red, and -purple blue. An impulsive glance at his watch showed that his little -refresher nap had lasted a good six hours and some odd minutes. - -Because of the altitude of the plane, and the countless ever changing -streaks of color in the sky, it was some time before he could pick it -out. When he did, there was no way of telling whether it was friend or -foe up there. The plane was just a dot moving swiftly toward the west. -One thing was certain. It wasn't a Nazi plane. He could tell that from -the steady unthrobbing note of the engine. It was either Italian or -British. The direction of the plane's flight, the fact that he could -tell it was a small single-engined job, and the fact that night was not -very far away, gave him the belief that it must be Italian. A moment -later the engine's note died off a little, and he saw the dot start -sliding downward. - -"What's that, Dave? Company?" - -Dave looked around at the sound of Freddy's voice. The English youth -was digging groggy sleep out of his eyes and getting slowly to his -feet. He came over to the edge of the rock shelf, shielded his eyes -with his hands and squinted up into the sky. - -"An Italian, or one of ours," he said after a moment's study. "I doubt -it's one of ours, though. I say, look! The beggar is banking around and -coming back this way. Good grief, do you suppose he's spotted us?" - -"From that altitude?" Dave grunted, and watched the dot swing down -lower and curve around in their direction. "Not a chance. But he's -heading back here, sure enough. There! He's flattened out of his glide. -And there's his engine hitting on all six again." - -It was true. Even as the two boys watched, the still very indistinct -plane seemed to level off, and the sound of its engine increased. -Impulsively they both backed up a couple of steps and stood there -silently watching the plane come closer and closer. Presently it was -close enough to take on definite shape and outline. It was an Italian -Fiat C.R. 42 fighter plane powered by a Fiat radial engine; a biplane -type that had been used extensively by Mussolini's air force since the -very start of the African campaign. They had proved no match, however, -for even the slowest planes General Wavell used, and little by little -it had become harder and harder to find one in the air. Their pilots -had no stomach to stray close to R.A.F. controlled air. - -The two boys had been acquainted with the facts about the Fiat C.R. 42, -and so their interest and wonder increased as soon as they noted its -type. - -"Now what would that lad be doing way out here?" Freddy murmured aloud. -"Of course he isn't near where our flying chaps might possibly be, but -the fact the blighter's actually alone certainly looks queer." - -"Yeah, if what they told us about those jobs is true," Dave grunted, -and scowled at the oncoming plane. "Hey, I wonder! Could that bird be -on reconnaissance patrol, or even contact patrol? Look at the way he's -zigzagging. He's even losing some altitude. Freddy, that guy's looking -for something as sure as you're a foot high!" - -"Maybe the crashes of the four planes we shot down," Freddy suggested. -"Perhaps that ship was sent out to confirm the results of the scrap, to -drop food and water to any of those Nazi or Italian lads who may have -survived the crashes." - -"Could be," Dave nodded, and continued to scowl at the plane. "But they -sure gave him the wrong location bearings. He's 'way too far north. -No, I think that idea is out, Freddy. That bird's on the look-see for -something else. He's--Hey! See there? He's found what he was hunting -for. Look! He's veered to the north a bit and he's going down in a long -power dive." - -Dave gave a final look at the plane, then looked across the desert -canyon toward the other side. The opposite wall was too high for him to -see over it and the stretch of desert beyond. From the glide angle and -direction of the Italian plane, he knew that it was going to pass low -over some point well beyond the northern slope of the desert plateau. -He half turned and touched Freddy on the arm. - -"He's got business some place over there where we can't see," he said. -"Get on your shoes, and collect your stuff. We're going to the other -side of this plateau crack and see what the heck is what." - -"You took the words right out of my mouth," Freddy said, and started -putting on his shoes. - -Going down that side of the escarpment, crossing the valley floor and -scrambling up the other side was no easy task. Bush thorns caught at -their uniforms, and jagged points of rock inflicted more than a couple -of bruises on their bodies. They sacrificed body safety for speed, -however, and presently they were flat on their stomachs on the top of -the other escarpment and peering ahead at the dune-humped stretches of -sun-painted sand. - -The Italian plane was now down very low. It wasn't more than three or -four hundred feet above the surface of the sand. It was a good five -miles away from them, however--much, much too far for them to make out -the pilot seated in the pit. Breathlessly they watched the plane nose -down even lower. Then suddenly Dave let out a startled cry and nudged -Freddy with his elbow. - -"Look!" he cried. "He's dumped something over the side. Looked like -some kind of a box to me. Did you see it?" - -"I saw it," Freddy replied in a voice reverberating with excitement. -"And I see something else, too, to the left of where that box-shaped -thing appeared to hit the ground. Look hard, Dave. See those--those -little humps? They look like little sand dunes, but I'll bet anything -they're not." - -"No bet!" Dave breathed after a long moment of silence. "Freddy, -there's something very screwy going on. Those humps are little shacks, -or huts. So help me, that's a village over there. Yet darned if I can -spot a single palm tree." - -"And there's somebody there!" Freddy whispered tensely. "There must -be, or that plane's pilot wouldn't be dumping anything over the side. -Look! He's climbing now, and heading back where he came from. Dave, -we're the luckiest two chaps in all Libya right now." - -"Maybe," Dave admitted grudgingly. Then, giving him a keen look, "What -makes you say it?" - -Freddy didn't answer at once. He chewed on his lower lip and kept his -eyes fixed on the distant scene. - -"Do you think you could spot those humps from say five or ten thousand -feet in the air?" he suddenly asked. - -"Five or ten thousand?" Dave echoed with a laugh. "Unless I knew they -were there, like that Italian bird must have known, I would probably -sail right over them at five hundred feet, and not know the difference." - -"Right!" Freddy replied instantly. "Now, answer me this one. Why would -an Italian pilot be dumping something overboard on a spot you could -miss at even five hundred feet, eh?" - -"I give up," Dave said after a moment's thought. "What is this, anyway? -Some kind of a game you've just thought up?" - -"Use that stuff in your noggin you call brains!" Freddy said sharply. -"Use it, Dave! Think hard. I may be completely off my base, but I think -I now know why we didn't spot anything of interest during our patrol. -Certain parties took care so that neither we nor anybody else should -spot anything. Now, does that give you a little idea?" - -"For cat's sake, you're talking in riddles!" Dave growled. "How do you -know why we didn't--" - -Dave suddenly cut himself short and clapped a hand to his forehead. - -"Well, fry me for an oyster!" he breathed fiercely. "Yeah, I think I -begin to see the light. That, Freddy, is an enemy desert outpost, and -so perfectly camouflaged that you'd never spot it from the air, unless -you knew exactly where it was located." - -"Absolutely correct," Freddy said. "You may go to the head of the -class, my little man. But wait a minute. One more question." - -"Boy, how you wear a guy down!" Dave said, and sighed. "Okay, dear -teacher, shoot." - -Freddy nodded his head toward the odd-looking cluster of humps in the -desert. - -"Why do you suppose that plane didn't land?" he asked. - -Dave gave him a startled glance and shook his head at the same time. - -"I give up," he said. "I haven't the faintest idea. But you always were -the military expert on this team, so tell me. Why?" - -"It's just a guess, of course," the English youth said, after a long -pause. "Maybe a crazy one, too. Somehow, though, I have the feeling -that the Nazis or the Italians over there are taking no chances on -being spotted by any possible British plane out on long distance -reconnaissance. Now, if one of our ships were way up there in the sky -somewhere, he wouldn't give a thought to seeing an Italian plane swoop -down low like that chap we just saw. However, he would prick up his -ears if he saw the plane land. He'd at least get curious enough to -slide down himself to see if it was only a forced landing. Therefore I -think that Italian pilot had orders not to land; to drop whatever he -had to deliver, and not deliver it by hand. Are you getting a little -bit of what I mean, now?" - -Dave nodded and stared intently at his English pal. Count on good old -Freddy Farmer to dig down and ferret around for the true meaning of -everything that appeared strange and mysterious. He had a mind like a -steel trap, and more than once his mental ferreting around ahead of -time had helped them out of a tight corner later. - -"Yes, I'm beginning to catch on," Dave said presently. "In fact, I'm -getting a couple of ideas of my own. I don't know what that Italian -pilot dropped, but it certainly wasn't food, and it wasn't ammunition. -The box, or whatever it was, wasn't big enough." - -"And so?" Freddy echoed as Dave hesitated and scowled off into space. - -"And so maybe that's no ordinary desert outpost," Dave finally said. -"Maybe there are important people there--I mean, important military -people. Do you know something, Freddy?" - -"'Way ahead of you, Dave, as you would say," Freddy interrupted with a -grin. "Important military people means staff headquarters. Yes, we're -probably crazy, Dave. Both of us may be completely out of our heads, -but I'll bet you the Bank of England against your oldest pair of flying -boots that that spot over there is some kind of field headquarters for -enemy troops in this area of the desert." - -"Enemy troops in this area?" Dave echoed, and gave a wave of his hand -that included the surrounding desert. "Troops where? You mean the force -that's right over there where we're looking, don't you?" - -Freddy shook his head and gave a stubborn tilt to his chin. - -"No, I don't," he said. "I mean that that's the headquarters base for -a _lot_ of spots in this section just like it, only we haven't seen -them. And, by good luck, we didn't stumble into them since leaving our -burned up Skua." - -Dave started to nod, then checked himself and gave Freddy a perplexed -look. - -"Don't look right now," he said, "but you're getting me all balled up, -my friend. Just what are you driving at, anyway? Come clean with the -works; then maybe I'll argue with you." - -"It's quite simple," the English youth said with a faint smile. "You -just mix a little imagination with what facts you know, and there you -are." - -"Maybe you are, but I'm not!" Dave grunted. "Skip the imagination part -and just give me the facts." - -"Right you are," Freddy said, and started counting off the fingers of -one hand. "First, British Middle East High Command knows that troops, -planes, and supplies, and so forth, have been transported across the -Mediterranean to Tripoli by air and water. Two, High Command knows -that it is mostly Nazi stuff. Three, it is obvious that preparations -are being made for a drive to beat back Wavell's forces. Four, it is -equally obvious that the enemy knows that Wavell's forces are not very -strong. As Group Captain Spencer said, everything that could be spared -was yanked away and sent down south to hand the Italians a quick mop-up -knockout blow in Ethiopia. Five, the one important thing in desert -warfare is surprise--surprise attack. Six, if the Axis forces simply -started along the main coast road from Tripoli and around the southern -end of the Gulf of Sidra, Wavell's outposts, to say nothing of his -planes, would spot them long before they were within attacking range, -and there would be no surprise at all. You want me to continue?" - -"Sure, stay in there and pitch," Dave nodded with a grin. "I know -you've got something, kid, and I want to hear it all. I really mean -that." - -"Very well, then," Freddy said, and started counting his fingers over -again. "Seven, to move a huge attacking army down toward the south and -back up toward the north would be much too exhausting for the troops, -and such an army would be spotted by Wavell's pilots days ahead of -time. R.A.F. bombers would then sail out and bomb the stuffing out of -the advancing armies." - -"Just a minute," Dave cut in. "They wouldn't be dumb enough not to have -air protection of their own." - -"Correct," Freddy said, and made a little gesture with one hand. -"But where would that air protection base itself in this part of the -desert? Certainly not with the armies as they moved forward a few -miles each day. At Tripoli? And keep flying way out here to guard -troops and tanks and other motorized equipment on the move? Not a bit -of it, Dave. They might just as well send General Wavell a letter -telling him they were creeping up for a surprise attack! They'd--" - -"Hold it, hold it!" Dave suddenly broke in excitedly. "You gave me the -tip just now. Creeping up. That's it! Creeping up in _small units_ -until they get close enough to strike at some point in Wavell's -defenses in a main body. Sure, sure, my imagination's beginning to work -too! Small units that can camouflage themselves perfectly so as not -to be seen by any of our planes that might pass over. And then when -they're all close enough, and all set, the bombers and stuff can wing -along the coast from Tripoli and take their part in the attack. Gosh, -Freddy, I'll bet that you've hit the old nail right smack on the head. -We've stumbled onto the hottest thing in Libya. And I don't mean the -sun or the sand, either!" - -"I'm sure of it!" Freddy said, and beamed happily. "And here's -something else. The small units move only _during the night_. And -before dawn they dig in and camouflage themselves so they won't be -seen during the day." - -"Yeah, like a tribe of Indians sneaking up on a frontier village in the -old days back in the States," Dave breathed. "And--" - -"Dave, that's exactly the idea!" Freddy suddenly cried, and gripped him -by the arm. "Take a good look, now! I see things moving over there. Am -I right, or are my eyes just going haywire?" - -The setting sun was now quite low, and the long shafts of orange gold -light that stretched across the desert made it extremely difficult to -distinguish individual objects, or even movement, at any distance over -a mile. The rays of the setting sun cutting through the shimmering -waves of heat rising up off the hot sand made everything seem to blend -into one huge picture of shadows and various shades of color. After -a few moments of intense scrutiny, however, Dave was ready to agree -with Freddy's belief. Unquestionably things were moving over there. -Many things, in fact, and of all shapes and sizes. He continued to -stare hard, and then suddenly the faint echo of engines coming to life -drifted down the desert wind. He felt, rather than saw, Freddy stiffen -at his side. And a moment later the English youth's excited voice came -to his ears. - -"Dave! Dave, do you hear that? Those are tank engines, and armored car -engines! See? They're starting to take off the camouflage coverings. -They're getting ready to move, Dave, just as soon as it gets dark." - -"Right!" Dave echoed. "And that means us. We're going to get on the -move, too." - -"What do you mean?" Freddy asked without turning his head. - -"We're going to get close for a good look," Dave replied, and rose up -onto his hands and knees. "I don't think they'll pull out until it's -actually dark. By then we can sneak up close to them and see what's -what. You know, Freddy, I've a hunch there are the answers to a lot of -questions over there. And if we get up close enough, maybe we can find -out a few of those answers. Anyway, we can't stick here forever." - -"No, of course we can't," the English youth agreed, and got up onto his -feet. "Our bad luck seems to have turned into good luck, so we'd better -make the most of it. Come on. Wait, let's see." - -Freddy pulled out his compass and held it steady in one hand. He peered -at it intently for a moment. - -"Right-o," he said presently. "If we hold a course fourteen points east -of north we'll be traveling a straight line toward that spot. As soon -as we get down off this escarpment we won't be able to see the spot all -the time. But this compass will take care of that. Right-o. Let's get -started." - -"Hey, hold everything!" Dave cried, and held Freddy back. "A fine -Indian scout, you are! And have you forgotten everything you learned -about aerial combat, huh?" - -Freddy stared at him in wide-eyed amazement. - -"What in the world is eating you, Dave?" he gasped. "Aerial combat?" - -"Sure," Dave said with a nod. "What's the best way to sneak up on an -enemy ship for a surprise attack?" - -"Come down on him with the sun at your back, so it's extra hard for him -to see you," Freddy replied promptly. "So what of it?" - -"Plenty," Dave said, and pointed to the west. "The same idea holds good -right here. We'll circle around to the west for a spell, and then creep -up on them with the setting sun at our backs. That way we can get much -closer. Less chance of anybody spotting us. Right?" - -Freddy grinned a bit sheepishly and nodded. - -"The young man is right," he said. "He's absolutely correct. My -apologies and congratulations, sir." - -"Oh, think nothing of it, my dear fellow," Dave said with a magnanimous -gesture. "Think nothing of it at all." - -"As Dave Dawson would say," Freddy grunted as they started down the -escarpment, "nuts to you!" - - - - -CHAPTER TEN - -_Courage Against Fate_ - - -By the time the sun was a ball of flaming color that rested lightly -on the western lip of the world, the two youths had detoured around -to a point less than half a mile from the spot where they had seen -mysterious activity. Now, though, it was no longer a mystery. Lying -side by side on the western side of a rolling sand dune, they peered -over its crest at a scene that caused their hearts to pound in wild -excitement and the blood to surge through their veins. - -There, less than half a mile away, were two enemy motorized units -preparing to break camp and continue their obvious march northward -under the cover of the Libyan night. There were at least twenty tanks -of the small, light armored German type. There were also as many troop -truck transports, and four or five armored cars. One good look at those -armored cars confirmed their earlier beliefs. High ranking officers of -the Axis forces were in charge of those attack units, and it was quite -evident that the mobile force served as headquarters for other units -scattered about the desert area. - -If either of them held any doubts as to the truth of that, such doubts -were dispelled some ten minutes later. As though by magic, a plane -seemed to rise up out of the camp. It was a German Messerschmitt 109 -single seater, and no sooner had it cleared the sand than it wheeled -toward the northwest and streaked away with the speed of a bullet. It -was not the plane itself that confirmed their belief, however. It was -the German Staff markings they saw painted on the fuselage of the fleet -plane as it raced by. - -"Boy!" Dave breathed, and grinned at Freddy. "Talk about finding the -old needle in a haystack! Lady Luck sure is giving us the glad smile." - -"Sure, whatever that means," Freddy commented with a frown. "You and -your American slang!" - -Dave laughed. - -"Slang, my eye," he chuckled. "I simply mean that out of all the enemy -units that are probably hiding out here on the desert, we spot the -headquarters unit right off the bat. See? Like finding a needle in a -haystack first time." - -"That's headquarters over there, right enough," Freddy murmured. "Ten -to one that Messerschmitt is winging back to Tripoli to inform them of -the new positions they will take up before dawn." - -"And ten to one that ship will be back and nicely camouflaged with the -rest of the stuff by dawn, too," Dave grunted. "Much as the Germans and -the Mussies give me a pain in the neck, I have to hand it to them for -being tops when it comes to camouflaging technique. You could fly over -this desert until you were blue in the face and not even spot a thing -that didn't look like just ordinary desert." - -"They certainly know how," Freddy admitted grudgingly. "But let's grant -them that and get our heads to working on more important things right -now. In an hour at the most they'll be under way. What shall we do? Tag -along behind them--or what?" - -Dave scooped up a handful of sand and let it slowly trickle between his -fingers as he silently considered the question. - -"I think that idea's out, Freddy," he said after a while. "For one -thing, tanks and armored cars don't travel at a snail's pace, not on a -flat desert and in the middle of the night. Another thing, even if we -did manage to keep up with them somehow, we'd be dead on our feet by -dawn. And we'd be faced with the possibility of spending all tomorrow -in the sun. There might not be any spot where there was shade." - -"I know," Freddy murmured in a worried voice. "And tough as we think we -are, that would be too much for us." - -"Check," Dave said. "But supposing we could take it somehow. So what? -So we wouldn't be any better off than we are right now. What we've got -to do is get into that camp and find out things, then get out and get -word to the British High Command what the Germans and Italians are up -to. That's the problem--two problems, they really are." - -"And mighty ticklish ones, too," Freddy said with a sudden show of -gloomy depression. "What do you think of the idea of trying to sneak in -there and have a quick look around? We might find out something." - -"And we _might_ find a couple of Mauser rifle bullets heading our way, -too!" Dave said with a shake of his head. "If they were camped there -for keeps that might be a worthwhile bet. But they're getting ready to -move, and they'd only need one look at our uniforms to know darned well -we didn't belong. Even the dumbest Italian over there would figure that -out." - -"But after it gets dark, couldn't we--" Freddy began, and then stopped -himself with a negative shake of his head. "No, I guess not." - -"Nix is right," Dave said. "After it gets dark they'll all be in their -tanks and trucks and armored cars, and on their way. Nope, even pulling -the old hitch-hiking stunt wouldn't get us a thing." - -Freddy Farmer started to speak, then seemed to change his mind. He -closed his mouth and scowled unhappily at the fingers of his two hands -digging in the sand. Dave watched him for a moment, then reached over -and touched him on the shoulder. - -"There is a way, if you're game, Freddy," he said softly. - -"I'm jolly well game for anything!" the English youth came right back. -"You know that, Dave. What's your plan?" - -"We could make them take us prisoners," Dave said. - -Freddy's jaw dropped in utter amazement, and his eyes bulged out like -marbles on long sticks. - -"Make them take us prisoners?" he choked out. "Give up? Are you mad, -Dave?" - -"No, just maybe a little screwy," Dave replied. "Pin back your ears for -a couple of seconds, and listen. If we try to sneak up on them, we run -the risk of being shot first, and questioned afterwards. That wouldn't -do either of us any good. If we try to tag along behind them as they -move northward, who knows what kind of trouble we might run into. So -what's left? To go along with them--as their guests. See what I mean?" - -"I don't even begin to see," Freddy replied with a befuddled groan. -"Frankly, I don't fancy those chaps over there are in the mood to have -guests. In fact, I doubt very much they would consider us as guests." - -"Oh, I just said 'guests' for the heck of it!" Dave snorted. "Look! -Here's exactly what I mean. You and I will be a couple of British -infantry officers hopelessly lost in the desert. And, boy, that's -doggone close to the truth, and how! Anyway, we have been wandering -around for we don't know how long. We've lost track of time, see? Maybe -the sun has got us a bit. We have just a few drops of water left in -one canteen, see? Our uniforms are torn, and all our food has gone. We -simply stumble right into that camp over there while it is still light, -and they can see us and _not take pot shots_. Beginning to catch on?" - -The light of hope had come back into Freddy Farmer's eyes, but he was -still a bit befuddled. - -"I think so," he said. "You mean, bury our stuff here, and tear our -uniforms, and all that sort of thing?" - -"Right on the button!" Dave nodded eagerly. "We happened to see their -camp. When we get close enough we'll start yelling to attract their -attention. We'll--Hold it! I've got an even brighter idea!" - -"What is it?" Freddy demanded. "I'm sure it can't be any crazier than -the one you've already told me." - -Dave reached over and gave him a playful punch on the shoulder. - -"It's a pip!" he cried. "We think we've finally found a small -detachment of our own forces, see? We don't realize they're the enemy -until they've captured us. That will start them spinning." - -"Spinning?" Freddy echoed. - -"Sure!" Dave nodded. "It'll start them playing guessing games with -themselves. They'll start wondering if they really are alone out here, -as they thought they were. They'll wonder just where we came from. -They'll wonder plenty about us stumbling onto their camp, Freddy. And -you and I can fill them with a lot of hooey that will make them wonder -all the more. No fooling, Freddy, it's a perfect set-up." - -"_If_ all goes well," Freddy said as the cautious side of him came to -the fore for a moment. "But, after all, this wouldn't be the first time -we'd taken a long chance." - -"That's the boy, Freddy!" Dave cried, and patted his shoulder. "That's -the old fighting spirit. Okay, it's a deal, huh?" - -"You and your wild ideas!" The English youth sighed, then smiled -faintly. "They'll probably end up putting me in front of a firing squad -one of these days. It might just be crazy enough to work, though, I -guess. Right you are, you mad hatter. It's a go." - -"My pal!" Dave breathed, and beamed at him. "Contact, then! Let's peel -off the stuff we don't need, and muss ourselves up to look as though -we've been through the mill." - -"If we haven't been through the mill today," Freddy groaned, and -started burying things in the sand, "then I sure don't know what you'd -call it. But just remember, my little friend, if I get shot for this, -I'll come back to haunt you every single night, I promise you that!" - -"You won't have to come back," Dave brushed the threat aside, "because -I'll be right there with you." - -"I don't doubt it for a minute," Freddy said with a hopeless shrug. -"The lad's just like my shadow. Can't get rid of it. Ah me! If I'd only -had sense and remained in England, I'd probably be an air vice-marshal -about now. Oh well, such is life!" - -"Boy, am I glad!" Dave murmured with feeling. - -"Glad about what?" the English youth asked unsuspectingly. - -"Why, that you didn't stay in England and get promoted to be an air -vice-marshal, of course," Dave said solemnly. "After all the good old -R.A.F. has done, to have it fold up and fall apart because a young -squirt has--I just can't finish. I shudder even at the thought of such -a fate for the R.A.F." - -"So?" Freddy grunted, and gave him a stern look. "Very well, then, I -refuse to go through with this as planned. I'm going to tell them the -truth. They may be Germans and rotters, but just the same I can't play -that kind of a dirty trick even on them." - -"Refuse to go--" Dave gasped as sudden alarm shot across his face. -"Won't play a dirty trick on them? Hey! What goes on here? What do you -mean, tell the truth?" - -The English youth didn't answer at once. With deliberate movements he -carefully smoothed the surface of the sand that covered the equipment -he had buried. Then he nonchalantly brushed sand dust from his hands -and glanced at Dave. - -"I'm going to tell them who you are," he said firmly. "I just haven't -the heart to let them think they've really captured somebody, when -it's actually only you. No, I'm going to tell them who you are so they -can kick you back out into the desert, the same way a fisherman throws -back a fish that's too small. And I'm going to teach them that bit of -American slang to say as they do it." - -"What's that?" Dave asked as the corners of his mouth twitched. - -"It's--" Freddy began, and hesitated. Then his face lighted up. "Oh -yes, I remember now. Ten pennies for twelve. Yes, that's it." - -Dave started to bellow with laughter, but clapped his hand over his -mouth just in time. Sound carries like magic across the desert, and -they were not yet ready to make their presence known to the enemy tank -and armored car units. However, it was a couple of minutes before Dave -could choke off his laughter enough to speak. - -"Ten pennies for twelve!" he gasped out as tears streamed down his -cheeks. "Boy, oh boy, is that one for the book. You mean, Freddy, a -dime a dozen. But let it go. Anyway, you're one in a million, and -that's no kidding. Well, all set?" - -As Dave asked the question, it served as an automatic brake, a full -stop, for kidding and joshing around. In a moment the serious business -would begin--deadly serious business, upon the outcome of which might -hang not only their own lives but the success or failure of Britain's -war efforts in the Middle East. Freddy searched Dave's eyes for a -couple of seconds, and then nodded. - -"Right-o," he said quietly. "Let's get on with it. We've buried all our -stuff, and we both certainly look as if we've been wandering around in -this blasted desert for days. Yes, let's get on with it." - -"Wait, just one more thing," Dave said as Freddy started to get up and -move over the brow of the sand dune. "It just hit me, and it might -help. You can't tell. Speak nothing but English. Make out that you -don't understand German. That is, of course, if any of those birds -speak English. But let's not let on we speak and understand German -until we have to. They--Well, they might let something slip, you know." - -"A darn good idea, Dave!" Freddy said in honest approval. "You're -right. One never can tell." - -"Then off we go," Dave said, and got up onto his feet. "Stagger -and reel a little. Pretend you don't hear them the first time they -challenge. Let's even lean a little on each other for support. Boy, if -there's any of the actor in us, this sure is the time for it to come -out. And to think--Gosh!" - -"And to think what?" Freddy shot out the corner of his mouth as they -started lurching forward and up over the crest of the sand dune and -into full view of the enemy camp. "What were you going to say?" - -"To think the day would come when you and I would walk up to a bunch of -Nazi slobs and say, 'Here we are,'" Dave grunted. "Of course it's all -for a reason, but--well, it sure gives me a funny feeling inside." - -"I know just how you feel," Freddy said. "And I could feel a lot -better, myself. But if things work out our way, we should fret." - -"Things _will_ work out for us!" Dave said grimly, and gave the English -youth's arm a squeeze. "They've _got_ to!" - -Neither of them spoke for the next few minutes. They trudged forward -across the sand, purposely faltering in their steps now and then and -stumbling to their knees. Every second of the time, however, they kept -a watchful eye on the desert camp that was just about ready to move -forward. The sun was down below the rim of the world now, and night was -rushing forward from the east on black wings. - -Stumbling step by stumbling step, they drew closer and closer to the -enemy camp. With each step they expected to hear a wild shout go up, a -shout that would mean they had been sighted. With each step, also, a -certain inner and unspoken fear walked with them, the tiny fear that -their little plan might fail horribly almost before it had been put -into action--the kind of failure, very definite and permanent, that the -bark of a rifle and a singing bullet would cause. - -No rifles barked, however, and no challenging voices thundered across -the rolling sands. The tank, armored car, and truck motors had been -silenced after a short test run period, and the stillness of the vast -desert had closed down over everything. The boys impulsively held their -breath every now and then as though they and the entire world were -waiting for some sudden all destroying explosion to shatter what seemed -an eternity of silence. - -"Are we going to have to bump right into those birds before they see -us?" Dave murmured desperately. "Gosh! We could have come this far on -a couple of motorcycles and saved our feet. The dopes are--" - -"Shut up!" Freddy whispered out the corner of his mouth. "Here they -come! For goodness' sake don't keep your hand near your automatic. The -blighters have their rifles trained right on us." - -It was true. A squad of Nazi desert troops, led by a corporal, came -dashing across the sand toward them with rifles held up and ready to -shoot. - -"Lady Luck, stay with us, please!" Dave whispered softly as he and -Freddy lurched forward a few more steps. - - - - -CHAPTER ELEVEN - -_Prisoners by Request_ - - -"_Halt!_" - -The order barked in German was akin to the crash of a rifle shot. The -two boys reeled forward one more step and then lifted their heads and -stared in surprise at the German non-commissioned officer who stood -straddle-legged in the sand directly in front of them. There was a -service Luger in his belt holster, but he wasn't using it. Instead he -held a short-barreled, rapid fire Mauser in his hands. - -"Put up your hands!" he snarled in German. - -Neither of the boys moved. They continued to stare at him in bewildered -dismay. Then Dave gave a little confused shake of his head. - -"Germans!" he choked out. "These aren't our chaps, Freddy. We've run -into Germans. We've been captured! Oh, blast our luck!" - -As Dave spoke he shot a keen glance at the expression on the corporal's -face. What he saw caused his heart to leap with hope. The man -obviously understood English, for a triumphant light leaped into his -eyes, and he smiled broadly. - -"Yes, you have been captured," he said in English that was heavy with -Teutonic accent. "Put your hands up. I will take your automatics. -Careful, now! One move and I will shoot." - -"Take them, and get it over with!" Freddy said in a hoarse voice. "All -we want is water and food. Where are we, anyway?" - -The corporal took a cautious step or two forward, then snatched their -automatics from them. He looked at Freddy and grinned. - -"Where are you?" he sneered. "What does it matter? You are my -prisoners. Now get moving. _Herr_ Colonel is anxious to meet you." - -As though he considered that quite a joke, the German laughed loudly -and showed a set of very bad teeth. Then, motioning his squad of -soldiers to form about the two boys, he started back toward the camp. -Still continuing to act exhausted and all in, Freddy and Dave staggered -forward, faltering with every step, and reaching out to one another -for support to stop from pitching down onto the sand. All the time, -though, they shot glances at the desert camp through slitted eyelids. -Dave counted some sixty vehicles in all, and as he looked at them his -admiration for Nazi camouflage technique went up another point. Every -truck, every tank, and every armored car was daubed with paint in such -a way as to make it exactly the shades of the desert. Even two or three -tents that were still standing looked more like the desert than the -desert itself. - -To all that, however, Dave gave but a passing look. What caught and -held his attention was the actual equipment. It all was right up to -the minute stuff. None of it was the shabby, slipshod equipment used -by Mussolini's forces in Northern Africa. It was all made-in-Germany -stuff, light, fast, highly mobile, and of high fire power. In short, -it was instantly obvious to Dave that this was a strong and completely -equipped attacking force of the Nazi army in Africa. It was no mere -scouting patrol. And there was one other item that impressed him at -once, too. It was all Nazi. He did not see a single Italian uniform as -the corporal marched them past groups of curious-eyed German soldiers -toward one of the tents on the far side of the camp. It was as plain as -the nose on his face that these Germans were out for business, serious -business. For that reason probably, they had no Italian troops along -with them who might break and flee for their lives at the sound of the -first shot, or the first smell of gunpowder in their noses. - -Presently the corporal brought them to a halt in front of a desert -tent. It was the square type with slightly slanting roof and sides. The -front flap was lifted up and fastened to poles stuck in the sand to -serve as a sort of porch. But in the event of a sand storm, it could -be lowered at once and made fast so that those inside were completely -protected. Three portable tables had been placed side by side, and in -back of them sat two German officers. One was a colonel. His head was -the shape and size of a watermelon that was terribly sunburned. His -eyes were little more than slits cut in the flesh on either side of his -lumpy nose. His mouth was thin-lipped and much too wide. And on the -upper lip was a little patch of black that was supposed to be like the -little pen wiper mustache worn by his lord and master, Adolf Hitler. - -The other officer was a major, and his appearance was the direct -opposite of his colonel's. He was thin as a rail, and tanned the color -of old leather. From the jaw to the forehead was three times as long as -from ear to ear was wide. His nose made Dave think of a letter opener. -His eyes were like green marbles, and his pointed chin could very well -have served as one end of a pick-axe. - -The corporal smacked his heels together and almost threw his arm out of -joint saluting. - -"Two English prisoners, _Herr_ Colonel," he said. "We found them -stumbling across the sand. They seem surprised that we were not of -their own forces. I have taken their guns away from them. Here they -are." - -The corporal went forward two steps and placed the boys' automatics on -the tables. The German colonel didn't give them so much as a glance. -He kept his slitted eyes on his prisoners and stared at them as though -they had just popped out of some museum. Dave stared back weary-eyed -at him, and tried to read the look in his eyes. Did he see surprise, -chagrin, or angry wonder there? He couldn't tell, because the lids were -drawn so close. - -"Where is your unit?" - -The colonel suddenly spat out the question in German. The boys were -perfect actors. They looked blank, shook their heads, and shrugged. - -"Do you speak English, sir?" Dave presently said. "And could we have -water, and--" - -He cut himself off short as Freddy Farmer quickly played up to him. -The English youth groaned, swayed on his feet, and would have fallen -if Dave had not grabbed him. The little exhaustion act fooled the -German colonel completely. He spat out a few words in angry annoyance, -and then ordered the corporal to help Dave and Freddy to chairs just -inside the tent, and to give them water. The boys gestured thanks with -movements of their hands, and accepted the water canteen from the -corporal. The two officers watched them in keen-eyed silence and waited -until they appeared to revive a bit. - -"Yes, I speak English," the colonel presently said, and surprisingly -enough, without the slightest trace of an accent. "Where is your unit? -I see from your uniform badges you are from the Sixth London Regiment." - -"We don't know, sir," Dave mumbled as he lowered the water canteen from -his lips. "We are lost. Two hours ago we saw this camp. We thought this -was our regiment's post." - -"How did you get lost?" the colonel demanded. "How long ago?" - -"Four days, sir," Freddy spoke up. "We were on advance patrol and--" - -"It was more than four days, Freddy," Dave interrupted. "It was six. I -have kept count of them." - -"Four or six, let him finish!" the colonel snarled, and then looked at -Freddy. "Yes? You were on patrol? Where?" - -Freddy hesitated and scowled. - -"Is that necessary?" he asked. "Would you reveal valuable information -if you were captured and taken prisoner, sir?" - -The blunt question startled the two Germans. They exchanged swift -glances; then the colonel bent his slitted eyes on Freddy again. - -"I would not be captured and taken prisoner!" he said harshly. "If you -do not wish to speak, that is your privilege. But--" - -The German paused and waved a hand toward the surrounding desert. - -"But you look as though you know what the desert can do to a man," he -finished suddenly. - -The two boys flinched visibly. Then Dave spoke quickly. - -"My comrade got a touch of the sun, sir," he said. "We possess no -valuable information we could reveal. We were simply on advance patrol. -A sand storm came up and we became separated from the main body. We -have been trying to locate it ever since. That is all of our story, -sir." - -Dave held his breath as he finished, and prayed inwardly. The prayer -was answered. The very fact he had said they possessed no valuable -information had instantly convinced the German colonel that they were -lying. That was as it should be. When the enemy _thinks_ you know -something, he will hold your life as valuable as his own until he has -found out. The longer you keep him guessing, the longer you have to -find out things yourself, and perhaps eventually beat him at his own -game. - -"I do not believe you!" the colonel suddenly snapped, thus confirming -Dave's belief. "Listen to me! I have no time to waste. We have taken -you prisoner. We have given you water. Later you will receive food. -But we do not _have_ to do those things. Understand that! You are -completely helpless. I have only to give the order and you will be -kicked out onto the desert to shift for yourselves. Or I can even give -the order and have you shot. It is up to you whether you wish to be -wise, or foolish." - -The two boys didn't say anything. They simply sat motionless and stared -unhappily off into space. Suddenly the German major spoke, and it was -all Dave could do to stop from starting violently. - -"I suggest you question them about that plane we sighted early this -morning, _Herr_ Colonel," he said in his native tongue. "The one we -sighted and informed Tripoli about by radio." - -There was a moment's silence after the major had spoken, and during -that moment a hundred and one thoughts leaped and danced across Dave -Dawson's brain. So this unit had sighted the Skua? This unit had -radioed Tripoli, and attack planes had been sent out? Then it was not -just by chance that those six planes had come slicing down out of the -sun. On the contrary, their pilots had known exactly what to look -for, and the location. They had climbed up into the sun on purpose. -True, that maneuver had availed them nothing but the loss of four of -their number. Nevertheless, the realization that hostile eyes had been -watching them all the time sent little shivers rippling up and down -Dave's spine. And at the same time it made his heart sink. When he and -Freddy did not make their rendezvous contact with the Victory, another -flying team would be drawn and sent out. They, too, would be sighted as -they cruised about over what looked like nothing but limitless desert. -And when Axis planes swooped down on them--perhaps they would not be so -lucky as he and Freddy had been. - -Lucky? The word was like a taunting laugh in Dave's brain. Were he and -Freddy as lucky as they hoped? Had they perhaps walked knowingly into a -trap from which there was no possible escape? Was this the end of the -war for them? Was this perhaps the end of--everything? - -At that moment the colonel's voice roused him from the depths of his -bitter reverie. - -"What have you seen since dawn?" the colonel asked. - -"Since dawn?" Dave echoed vaguely, and then looked questioningly at -Freddy. - -The English youth rose to the occasion at once. - -"Don't you remember, Dave?" he asked. "Or has the sun dulled your -memory, too? We saw an air battle. We saw the planes fall. Don't you -remember?" - -"Oh, that?" Dave echoed with a shrug. "What was important about that?" - -"So you saw the air battle, eh?" the German colonel asked quickly. "You -saw the planes fall, perhaps?" - -Both Freddy and Dave hesitated. Both had the same sudden feeling that -the German was trying to lead them into some kind of a word trap. Just -what they replied to his questions might make all the difference in the -world as to their own safety. Finally Dave spoke. - -"Yes, we saw the planes fall," he said. - -The two Germans leaned forward slightly, and suppressed excitement -showed on their faces. - -"How many?" the colonel asked. - -"Five," Dave answered promptly. "Three Nazi, one Italian, and one of -ours." - -"That British plane," the German major spoke up suddenly. "You say you -saw it fall to the ground? What happened to the pilot and observer? -They jumped with their parachutes, eh?" - -Dave shook his head. - -"No," Freddy said for them both. "They did not jump. They glided the -plane down and crashed when they tried to land. The plane caught fire. -It was about a mile away from where we were standing. When we reached -it, it was too late to do anything." - -"It is as I told you, _Herr_ Colonel," the major said to his senior -officer in German. "If those British aviators saw anything, they -died before they could take the information back to their base. Yes, -undoubtedly they were simply sent out to hunt for these two standing -before us." - -Dave kept a dumb, blank look on his face, as though he didn't -understand a single word the German was saying. Inwardly, though, -he was smiling happily to himself. Thank goodness he had made the -suggestion to Freddy that they act as though they didn't speak German. -And thank goodness, too, they had decided to wear infantry uniforms, -and to admit readily they had seen a British plane crash and burn up, -in the event they were captured. It was all working out perfectly. - -A moment later, though, when the colonel replied in the same tongue, -the smile died in Dave, and little fingers of worry and fear began to -clutch at his heart. - -"Perhaps," the senior officer grunted. "Then again, perhaps not. These -two young swine puzzle me. I feel sure their story is made up of lies. -Four, six days in this cursed desert? I doubt that very much. Yes, very -much, indeed." - -"But just look at them, _Herr_ Colonel!" the major protested. "Both are -ready to collapse at any moment. They are completely exhausted. I agree -that perhaps they lie a little. But I think they speak the truth about -wandering about the desert." - -"For six days?" the colonel echoed harshly, and gave him a scornful -look. "It is evident you have had no experience with the desert. I have -spent a lot of my life in this part of the world, _Herr_ Major. Look at -their boots! Six days of sand and sun would do more than that to a pair -of boots." - -It was all Dave and Freddy could do to refrain from looking down at -their boots. Boots! The one item that hadn't even occurred to them. Of -course the German colonel was right. Six days, or even four days of -tramping across the desert would unquestionably wear their boots paper -thin unless they had taken special care of them such as rubbing them -with grease or oil to stop the leather from drying up and cracking, and -mending each little crack or cut before it was too late. Their boots -showed none of that kind of care, however. And the fact they had no -packs was proof they hadn't had any shoe oil or grease in the first -place. - -"You're right, _Herr_ Colonel," the major said as he scowled down at -the boys' boots. "They do not look very much the worse for wear, at -that." - -"That doesn't prove anything, however," the German colonel grunted, and -Dave's heart started sliding back down out of his throat. "We shall -see, however. I have thoughts about these two, and I will find out soon -enough if my thoughts are true ones. Meantime we will get as much out -of them as we can." - -"You mean, in case they do speak the truth?" the major murmured. - -"Exactly that!" the colonel replied with a curt nod. "I doubt if there -are any British forces within two hundred and fifty miles. Still, we -must make sure. The success of this surprise smash against the British -means much to me. It means everything. I wish to be removed from this -cursed part of the world. I am sick of the sun, and the sand, and the -flies and other insects. Soon, in case you have not been told, things -will happen in the Balkans. That fat, stupid fool, Mussolini, has made -a mess of things in Greece and Albania. It will soon be necessary for -the _Fuehrer_ to go to his aid, and pull him out of the fire. I hope to -have a division command when the Leader marches down into Greece. If I -smash the British out of Libya, and annihilate them so they cannot even -escape to their Egyptian strongholds, I shall be given the command of a -division of tanks for the asking. And I shall have it, never fear!" - -The German colonel emphasized what he had just said by giving a savage -nod of his head, and banging one huge clenched fist down on the table. -Then he turned his glittering, half closed eyes upon the two boys. - -"So you have been lost for four or even six days, eh?" he shot out. -"Very well, then. Look closely at this map. Put your finger where you -were when you started out of this advance patrol." - -As the German spoke, he unfolded a military map and spread it out on -the tables. Hope zoomed up in Dave. Perhaps the map would tell them -about the plans of the expected attack against the British forces -from Bengazi eastward to the Egyptian frontier. It might even show the -location of the other Nazi units he was sure must be operating under -the command of this headquarters colonel. - -If he expected all that, however, or even a small part of it, he was -doomed to disappointment. The instant he glanced at the map he saw that -it was completely unmarked. He studied it for a moment as a stall for -time. He didn't dare point out a spot too close to where he judged to -be their present position. A short scouting trip by the Germans could -prove them liars in no time at all. Yet at the same time he didn't -want to indicate a point miles and miles away. It was obvious that the -colonel suspected them, and to state they had wandered some two or -three hundred miles across the desert would simply add to the German's -suspicions. You don't walk that far in the desert in that short space -of time. You don't even walk a small fraction of it--and live. Ten or -fifteen miles in the cool of the night is about the limit. - -Suddenly Freddy spoke up--Freddy, of the keen, sharp brain that had -helped them avoid more than one enemy trap in the past. - -"This map is printed in German, sir," he said. "I can guess at the -spelling of some of the places, but I am not sure. The place where -our patrol started from was called Amarir. Yes, I think that was the -name. It was fifty miles southwest of El Siwa. One of the tanks broke -down, and it was necessary to repair it at once. This officer and I -went ahead on foot to reconnoiter the area beyond an escarpment. It was -there the sand storm caught us." - -Freddy paused, gave a little puzzled shake of his head, and scowled -down at the map. - -"I'm sure my brother officer is mistaken," he said presently. "It was -not six days ago. No. Perhaps it was not even four. I have lost track -of the days completely. But where are we now, sir? Are we very far from -El Siwa? Or perhaps Amarir?" - -The German colonel didn't reply. He gave Freddy a shrewd glance and -then looked down at the map. Presently he raised his eyes. - -"It is of no importance to you where you are," he said pointedly. "You -are prisoners. Be content with that fact. You were lucky you were not -shot on sight. I--" - -The colonel cut himself off short as a tank captain appeared at the -entrance of the tent and saluted. - -"All is ready, _Herr_ Colonel," he said. "Shall I give orders for the -column to proceed? As _Herr_ Colonel can see, it is practically dark -now." - -"Give the order, then," the senior officer said with a curt nod. "But, -as usual, have the armored cars and one truck remain for a time. Also -their crews, of course. They can strike these tents in a few minutes. -That is all." - -The colonel waited until the tank captain had saluted and made a hasty -exit. Then he turned to the major at his side and spoke again in their -native tongue. - -"Perhaps a little rest will help the memory of these two," he said with -a faint smirking twist of his lips. "Anyway, I haven't any more time to -waste on them right now. You will take charge of them, and take them -in your car. Try to get something out of them if you want to. However, -they will probably fall asleep on you. Tomorrow I will spring my little -surprise. Then we shall see what we shall see. Curse that British plane -we sighted this morning! It is the first we have seen so far, and it -worries me a little. If we were not so far away, I'd--" - -The German let his voice trail off and sat staring moodily down at his -fingertips drumming on the table top. After a moment or so he jerked -his head up and shrugged. - -"Perhaps I will, even now," he said as though talking to himself. -"Anyway, take these two away. Give them food and water and take them -along in your car. That's all. Now get out. I'll see you later." - -The colonel dismissed them with a nod and immediately started stuffing -papers and maps into a black dispatch case. The major got to his feet -and looked at the two boys. - -"You will come with me," he said in halting English. "Please remember I -have this Luger here at my belt. It may help you to remember that if I -tell you I am one of the best shots in the German army. You understand?" - -"A man would be a fool to go out there," Freddy said quietly, and -pointed toward the desert. - -"A first class screw-ball," Dave, grunted, and watched the German -colonel cram things into the brief case. - -The senior officer heard him and looked up sharply. - -"So you are not English, eh?" he asked with a frown. "You are an -American." - -Dave didn't say anything. He simply returned the man's stare. - -"An American?" the colonel repeated as though he were rolling the word -around in his brain and observing it from all angles. "So you left -your country and came over here to fight for the British? That is -interesting. That is _very_ interesting, indeed!" - -A sly smile that curled the German's lips, and a sudden odd gleam that -showed in his half closed eyes, made Dave's heart grow chilly and cold, -and caused the back of his neck to tingle with that all too familiar -warning sensation. He shrugged it off after a moment and obeyed the -major's order to fall into step with Freddy and be marched away. - - - - -CHAPTER TWELVE - -_The Colonel's Trap_ - - -Dull pain shot through Dave Dawson's left shoulder and crawled up the -side of his neck and into his head. It came at regular intervals like -the ticking of a clock, and no matter which way he moved he could not -seem to get away from it. From a long, long way off he heard the murmur -of sound, but it held no meaning for him. His brain was too befuddled -to grasp the meaning of anything. All about was darkness. Darkness, the -shocks of dull pain, and the distant murmur of voices. - -"I say, can't you just shake him? Do you have to punch his blessed head -off? Let him alone, I say!" - -The sound of Freddy Farmer's voice suddenly cleared Dave's head and -revived his senses. He awoke from a groggy sleep to find himself in the -back seat of one of the armored cars. The German major was bending over -him and punching him on the shoulder and snarling in his ear. - -"Wake up, you American swine! Wake up, do you hear me? Wake up!" - -At the other end of the seat Freddy Farmer was protesting angrily, -helpless to do anything else but that. A German soldier standing by -the side of the car was holding a Mauser muzzle against the English -youth's chest. For a split instant Dave was tempted to pretend he was -still asleep and lash out at the German major's chin, and apologize -afterward. On second thought, though, he decided that might not be so -good. So, instead, he groaned and sat up so that the German missed his -next blow and struck the back of the seat. - -"Hey, what's the matter?" Dave cried sleepily. - -The German stopped punching and swore softly in German through clenched -teeth. Dave could just see him vaguely, as it was dark all around, -although there was the first grey streak of a new dawn in the east. It -was then he realized that the murmur of sound he had heard in his sleep -was caused by intense activity about him. The German mechanized column -had completed its night march and was now "bedding down" for a new day. -Trucks, tanks, and armored cars alike were being covered with strips -of camouflage canvas that would render them invisible to aircraft -above. Headquarters tents were being set up, and off to his right a -couple of rolling kitchens were being made ready for the preparing of -the early dawn mess for the officers and troops. The commands that flew -back and forth were spoken in low tones, and every soldier seemed to -know exactly what to do. It was a display of military efficiency plus, -and once again Dave had to admit admiration for Nazi war technique. - -At that moment he received a final blow from the German major. - -"This is no sightseeing trip!" the officer barked at him. "Get out of -this car, and come along with me. No wonder the British are losing the -war. You seem to do nothing but sleep. Get out of this car, at once." - -A blazing retort rose to Dave's lips, but he choked it back and climbed -stiff-legged out of the car and down onto the sand. Freddy was pushed -out beside him. He looked at his pal and grinned in the bad light. - -"That shut-eye sure helped," he said to Freddy. "Anything happen? I -think I must have popped off the instant we got under way." - -"You did," Freddy replied. "Phew, you could sleep through a -bombardment, I fancy. His Nibs didn't like it at all. He was full of -conversation, and--" - -Freddy suddenly received a blow in the middle of his back that sent him -pitching headlong down onto the sand. Dave instantly leaped forward and -helped him to his feet. The German major glared at the English youth -and fingered his holstered Luger. - -"Another insult and you'll get a bullet, British swine!" he hissed. -"You forget I speak your filthy language." - -"Do you?" Freddy echoed with icy calmness. "I hadn't noticed it, you -know." - -Dave set himself to leap in front of his pal in case the officer struck -again. However, the German seemed to think better of it. Perhaps it was -because the colonel came striding up at that moment. The commandant of -the mechanized desert column ignored the major and peered at Dave and -Freddy. Presently his flat moon-shaped face relaxed into a brief smile, -and he nodded. - -"So you got some sleep, eh?" he grunted. "That is good. Perhaps you -will remember things a little bit better today. First, though, we must -eat. Ninety-five miles is a long way, even in the cool of the night. -Yes, we will all eat first." - -The German nodded and turned to his major. - -"Put them in one of the tents, and post a guard," he ordered. "Then -report to me." - -Without waiting for the junior officer to acknowledge the order, the -colonel swung around on his heel and walked off. Dave still kept his -muscles coiled and ready for action, but it proved unnecessary. The -major's anger had cooled off. At any rate, the sudden appearance of the -commanding officer had caused him to change his mind. He simply glared -at Freddy for an instant and then gave a jerk of his head. - -"Follow me!" he grated. Then to the guard who hovered close, "Walk -behind them and use the muzzle of that gun if you have to." - -A few moments later the two R.A.F. pilots were seated on the sand floor -of a tent that had been set up on the eastern fringe of the camp. The -front flap was left open, and they could look out at the guard pacing -up and down in front of the tent and at most of the camp beyond. Dawn -was coming fast, but the camouflage work had been completed, and the -entire column was ready for another day of hiding from any patrolling -British aircraft. - -"They sure know their stuff!" Dave breathed softly. "Here we are right -in the doggone camp, and we can hardly tell those covered over tanks -from the sand. They must have been preparing for this a long time, what -I mean!" - -"I don't doubt it a bit," Freddy grunted moodily. "Thoroughness is a -by-word with the Germans. Listen, Dave, what do you think--?" - -Dave suddenly reached over and touched his arm. - -"Take a look at that guard," Dave said in a loud voice. "Did you ever -see such a funny-looking face in your life? And look at the way the -slob carries his rifle. I bet he hasn't been in service over a couple -of weeks. Bet he couldn't hit the back side of a barn door. What an -awful-looking dope! Holy smoke! He's got a face even funnier looking -than that dizzy boss of his, Hitler. Hey, Guard! You're all out of -step, you fathead!" - -"Dave, for cat's sake!" Freddy gasped. - -The guard turned toward them, looked blank, then shrugged and continued -his slow pacing up and down. - -"Are you mad, Dave?" Freddy choked out. "You want a gun butt or a boot -heel in your face?" - -"Who, me?" Dave echoed, and grinned at him. "Of course not. I just -wanted to see if the guy understands English. He doesn't. Now, what -were you going to say?" - -Freddy whistled softly and gave a little shake of his head. - -"You certainly find out things a strange way!" he breathed. "Lucky for -you he _didn't_ understand English. He would have bashed you a good one -for those insults, have no fear. What was I going to say? Blast it, -I've forgotten. No! Wait a minute. What do you think of that colonel, -Dave?" - -"Dumb like a fox," Dave said slowly. "He had the wheels in his head -working all the time. He's not even close to being satisfied about us. -Yeah! I sure wish I were a mind reader. I'd like to know what this -surprise he was hinting about is." - -"I have an idea it is some kind of a trap," Freddy murmured with a -frown. "He's jolly well up to something." - -"Speaking of traps," Dave said, "thanks for not letting me step into -that one he set when he pulled out that map. I was just about to point -out some town. That would have let him know we understood German. You -sure gave him a good line. By the way, where the heck are the Libyan -towns of Amarir and El Siwa, anyway? Never heard of them." - -"Me either," Freddy said, and grinned. "Just made them up. I think it -worried him a bit, too. Out this way there're lots of little spots you -don't hear mentioned once in a hundred years. Like all those islands in -the South Pacific, the names seldom appear on maps because the places -are too small. Yes, I think that German colonel spent a lot of time -last night studying his maps and looking for Amarir and El Siwa." - -"It sure was fast thinking, pal," Dave said. "My hat's off to you. -We're in a jam, though, Freddy, and you and I've got to work fast. I -can only guess where we are, but my guess is that we're not far from -British-occupied ground. That means the surprise attack is going to be -pulled pretty soon." - -"I agree with you," Freddy said with a nod. "By the way, did you see -that dispatch case of his? Those maps and papers? I have a feeling they -could tell us all we want to know." - -"I'll bet my shirt on it!" Dave said excitedly. "If we could only get -hold of that dispatch case, and get us a plane, we'd--" - -Dave cut himself off short and made a wry face at the vast stretches -of desert he could see by simply raising his eyes and glancing out the -front side of the tent. - -"Sure!" he said presently with a bitter chuckle. "And if we had some -ham we could have some ham and eggs, if we had some eggs! Nuts!" - -The two boys lapsed into moody silence and stared unhappily at the -guard marching slowly up and down in front of their prison tent. Then, -suddenly, it happened! Perhaps it was just another of those mysterious -coincidences so common in war, or perhaps Fate had been waiting for -that exact moment. At any rate, the sound of a distant airplane engine -suddenly came to the boys. They sat up straight, cocked their heads and -stared hard at the shadowy dawn sky to the west. - -"That's a Nazi ship!" Dave breathed excitedly. "I can tell the throb of -a German Daimler-Benz engine with both ears stuffed with cotton." - -"And it's a Messerschmitt," Freddy said, and pointed. "Look! Take a -bead on that sand dune over there and then look up above it. See it? A -Messerschmitt One-Ten. There! He's cut his engine and he's gliding down -toward this camp." - -"Not the ship we saw take off last night," Dave grunted as he found the -plane in the sky and watched it glide downward and toward them. "That -was a Messerschmitt One-Nine single seater. This is the Messerschmitt -One-Ten three place job. Yeah, pilot, radio man, and gunner. Maybe -they take turns contacting this desert headquarters. Boy! Seeing that -ship certainly gives a guy thoughts, doesn't it, huh?" - -Freddy simply nodded grimly and said nothing. The plane was very low, -now, and sliding in to land in full view of their prison tent. As it -slowly settled down onto the sand, they suddenly saw the German colonel -and the major run out to the spot where the Messerschmitt was braked -to a stop. There were only two figures in the plane. They climbed down -at once and engaged in what appeared to the boys to be an excited -conversation with the colonel. Dave wasn't sure, but twice he thought -he noticed the column commandant half turn and shoot a look over their -way. - -The group talked for a few minutes, then moved away in the direction of -the headquarters tent. When they had passed from view, Dave turned his -head and smiled sadly at Freddy. - -"Look at that plane just over there!" he said with a happy sigh. -"They've even left the prop ticking over. Gosh, what I wouldn't give -for a chance to--" - -He left the rest hanging in midair and stared unhappily at the -flat-faced guard walking up and down. The man carried a Mauser rifle -in the crook of one arm, and there was a long-barreled Luger in the -holster at his belt. He looked as though his thoughts were a million -miles away, but Dave was quite positive the man was on the alert and -ready for any sudden action of their part. - -A moment later a second guard appeared with a couple of mess tins of -food. Hardly looking at the two boys, he set the mess tins down inside -the tent and then stepped up to the guard. - -"We are all to report at _Herr_ Colonel's tent at once," he said in -German. "Come along." - -To the utter amazement of the boys, the two Germans walked away and -disappeared around a group of camouflage-covered tanks in the direction -of the headquarters tank. Two moments of tingling silence ticked by, -and then Freddy grabbed Dave by the arm. - -"A perfect chance, Dave!" he whispered excitedly. "Not one of the -beggars in sight. Let's make a run for that Messerschmitt and be off. -What utter fools they are to give us this chance!" - -Dave was already scrambling up onto his feet, but upon hearing Freddy's -last words something seemed to grab hold of him; seemed to freeze him -motionless for a brief instant and then push him down onto the sand. -Freddy half turned and stared at him as though he had suddenly gone -crazy. - -"What's the matter?" the English youth gasped. "Are you paralyzed? Come -on, Dave! No telling when they'll come back." - -Dave shook his head, took hold of Freddy's arm and pulled him down onto -the sand. - -"Nix, Freddy!" he admonished. "Sit down and start eating. The hunch -just hit me right between the eyes. This is _it_, Freddy!" - -"This is what?" the English youth demanded angrily. "Listen, Dave, if--" - -"Shut up, and eat!" Dave cut him off. "_This is the surprise._ I'm sure -of it. The colonel's little surprise. Don't you get it? They don't -believe our story about the British plane crashing, and the two fellows -in it burning up. They think _we're_ those two chaps. Get it? So that -Messerschmitt is the colonel's little trap. I'll bet you every dollar -I ever hope to have that they're waiting and watching for us to make a -break for that plane, and have got a couple of machine guns trained on -it in the bargain. It's up to us to fool them, and stay put." - -The annoyance and anger slowly and reluctantly faded from the English -youth's eyes. He looked at Dave, then looked sadly out at the plane. - -"Of course you're right, Dave," he murmured after a moment or two. "I'm -a blasted fool, and almost ran us into something. Yes, you're dead -right, Dave. Oh, well, let's eat. At least that's something to do!" - -They had been eating for about ten minutes when their guard suddenly -appeared in front of the tent. He glared at them for an instant and -then motioned with one of his hands. - -"_Herr Kommandant_ wants to see you," he said in German. "Come!" - -The two boys didn't move a muscle. They simply looked blank and -puzzled until the guard made motions that even a blind man would have -understood. Then they slowly got to their feet and walked out of the -tent. - - - - -CHAPTER THIRTEEN - -_Desert Doom_ - - -The German colonel was flanked by his major and two Nazi Air Force -pilots. All of them stared flint-eyed as the guard ushered the two boys -into the headquarters tent. They returned stare for stare and waited -for somebody to speak. The colonel seemed to be trying the silence and -hard eye cure on them, for it was a good three minutes before he opened -his mouth. Dave had the crazy urge to laugh in the man's face, and if -the situation hadn't been so deadly serious he probably would have. -German officers have never taken any prizes for good looks, and the -colonel was certainly at the bottom of the list. - -"Tell me your story again!" he suddenly snapped out, and nodded at -Dave. "Yes, you, my little American." - -Dave hesitated a moment as though to get the facts straight in his -mind. Then he slowly told a story identical with everything that he -and Freddy had said before. The Germans listened in silence, but a -sneer twisted the colonel's lips by the time Dave had finished. - -"So?" the German commandant echoed in a purring tone. "You did not -arrive at the crash in time to save the two Englishmen in it, eh? They -were unfortunately burned up alive?" - -A warning bell sounded in Dave, and the familiar tingling sensation -was at the back of his neck. He was sure that he and Freddy were being -trapped, but he was helpless to do anything about it. The only possible -thing he could do was to stick to their story. - -"They certainly looked burned up to me, sir," he said. - -The colonel smiled, and his slitted eyes held a triumphant glitter. - -"You were very clever not to take advantage of the chance just now to -try and escape in that Messerschmitt plane," he said with a leer. "Very -clever, because you would most certainly be dead now if you had made -such an attempt. However, you do not fool me a bit. Infantry officers, -eh? Bah! Do you think we are fools, you swine?" - -Both Dave and Freddy had the sickening sensation of the ground falling -away from under them. They forced themselves to keep dismay from their -faces, however, and stared puzzled-eyed back at the colonel. - -"What is that, sir?" Freddy presently asked in a surprised tone. -"You--you think _we_ were in that plane? But that's ridiculous! Those -two poor chaps burned up. They died! We saw them with our own eyes. -Look at these cuts and scratches on my hands. I got them trying to save -those R.A.F. lads. I don't understand what you mean, sir!" - -"You understand perfectly!" the colonel said harshly, and stabbed a -thick finger at him. "Yes, you would like me to believe your story, but -I don't. You see, I have other proof. You probably injured your hands -on rocks and desert brush, but _not_ from trying to save two British -airmen. They didn't burn up and die in their plane!" - -"Say, what is this?" Dave choked out with forced dumbfounded amazement, -though his heart was actually sliding down into his boots. "Who says -they didn't burn up?" - -"I do!" the colonel thundered in a voice that was probably heard 'way -back in Tripoli. "These two German pilots have just returned from an -inspection of that crash. I radioed Tripoli last night for that to be -done. They have just arrived and made their report to me!" - -The German paused and bent the eyes of death on the two boys. - -"They found no charred bodies in that crash!" he suddenly spat out in -their faces. "They found goggle glasses and rims in the burned cockpit. -They found radio earphones of burned helmets. They found the remains -of a camera--something that is only carried in that type of plane on -_special_ occasions! They found parachute harness buckles and clasps. -They found lots of things that the occupants of that plane left behind -when _they set fire to their craft_!" - -"Set afire, my hat!" Freddy blurted out. "I tell you we saw it crash -and burn up!" - -At that moment one of the German airmen shook his head and said -something to the colonel so fast that neither of the boys could catch -what it was. The colonel nodded and broadened his leer. - -"Stop lying!" he snarled. "You are caught. The plane did not crash and -burn up. _Herr_ Captain, here, has just told me that the marks in the -sand show that the plane made a good landing. There were also other -marks in the sand. _Two sets of footprints leading northward from the -crash!_" - -The German commander thumped his fist down on the table in front of -him and glared at the two boys out of eyes fitted with dancing shafts -of lightning. Dave could almost feel every drop of blood drain down -out of his body. His mouth went bone dry and his leg joints seemed -to turn to jelly. It was all he could do to hold himself erect. He -glanced at the German pilot who had spoken, and in that moment he would -gladly have given anything to get his hands about the man's scrawny, -leathery-skinned neck. - -"So what?" he suddenly shot out, returning his gaze to the colonel's -face. "If you think we're R.A.F. pilots, then that's your mistake. So -what?" - -The colonel's eyes flew open a bit in stunned surprise. Anger flooded -his face with a fiery red. Then just as quickly the anger faded and he -laughed harshly. - -"American bluff!" he snorted. "I have heard of that, but it will do you -no good. No good at all, do you hear? I know all about you now, and--" - -The colonel leaned forward and thrust out his jaw. - -"And I shall deal with you as I would any other spies!" He fairly -crammed the words down their throats. - -The boys blinked, but that was the only outward sign they gave of the -conflict of emotions that raged within them. - -"Yes, deal with you as spies!" the German repeated. "And I know a very -nice way to deal with spies." - -"We are not spies," Freddy spoke up quietly. "We are no more than -prisoners of war. We demand we be regarded as such. Or do the -recognized rules of warfare mean nothing to you?" - -Dave expected to see the German fly into a rage at Freddy's final -outburst, but such was not the case. The colonel's face became hard as -a disc of frozen ice. His eyes were pin points of flame that licked out -from between the lids. He gave a curt shake of his melon-shaped head. - -"No, they mean nothing to me!" he said, tight-lipped, and flung one -arm out in a circular gesture. "Here in this desert I hold the supreme -command. Here _I_ am the _Fuehrer_, the Leader. My word is law. To -disobey means instant death. My officers and my troops know that, too. -No, I make my own rules. And when I order, you to be shot--_you will be -shot!_" - -Dave knew, as Freddy knew, that it was foolish and a waste of time -to pose as infantry officers any longer. The game was up. Well laid -plans and precautions had availed them nothing. They had failed. An -inspection of the burned up plane had knocked the props right from -under them. Their future was in the laps of the gods. No plans and -preparation now. They could only fall back on fast thinking, fast -action and prayer. - -"Okay, go ahead and shoot!" he told the German defiantly. "Our job is -done. Our reports are now in the hands of the British High Command. -Sure! We've done our job, and we're not afraid to die. Go ahead and -shoot, and nuts to you and your whole gang!" - -The German colonel gave him the kind of a look a wearied parent might -give a spoiled brat, and slowly shook his head. - -"It is no use, my little fool American," he said. "You only waste your -breath seeking to fool me. Whatever your mission was, I know that it -failed. It failed because you did not return to your base. You landed -in the desert, and very stupidly allowed us to take you prisoners. And -you made no code report to your superiors because there was no radio in -your plane. These German pilots made sure of that, too." - -The colonel turned to them, repeated the statement in German and -watched the two pilots shake their heads vigorously. Then suddenly the -colonel whirled around as Freddy burst out laughing. - -"And what is so funny, my swine Englander?" he snarled. - -Freddy didn't even look at him. He looked at Dave instead and grinned -broadly. - -"Well, I guess we lose that bet, Dave," he said. "But I have to laugh -when I think of Jones and Barker in that other patrol plane trying to -collect from us. I don't fancy they'll come out this way again looking -for us." - -"Not a chance," Dave replied quickly, playing up to Freddy's lead. -"They're safe and sound at Wavell's base now. They'd be crazy if they -didn't stay there until Zero Hour." - -"What's that?" the German colonel shouted, and came part way up out of -his chair. "Another patrol plane? Zero Hour? What do you mean?" - -Dave fairly leaped at the opening the German's questions presented. - -"Oh, nothing," he said with a shrug. "We were just kidding to see what -you would do. We were really alone. There wasn't any other plane along -with us. Oh--Anyway, _you didn't see one, did you_?" - -The German colonel didn't reply. He dropped back on his chair and eyed -first one of them and then the other. Because his eyes were so well -hidden behind the slits, it was impossible for Dave to tell what effect -his lies had had upon the German. However, he was fairly sure that -the man was puzzled; wasn't so sure of himself now, and was giving the -matter very serious consideration. For a second Dave was tempted to -carry on his crazy chit-chat with Freddy in the hope of befuddling the -German even more. On second thought, though, he killed the urge and was -content to let well enough alone. - -"Another plane, eh?" the German muttered in his own tongue. "I wonder. -It is of course possible, yet--" - -He jerked his head around to the taller of the two German Air Force -pilots. - -"You took part in that air battle yesterday shortly after dawn," he -snapped. "How many enemy planes did you engage?" - -"Only one, a British Blackburn Skua," the pilot replied instantly. -Then, as his face darkened from memory, he added, "I would have shot it -down, myself, but I was flying as observer-gunner in one of the Italian -planes. The weakling at the controls became scared and ran away." - -"Those Italians!" the colonel said, and spat onto the sand. "Not one -of them, including their fat dictator, has the courage of a newborn -chicken. Bah! I spit on their flag! So there was no other enemy craft?" - -"None," the German pilot assured him. "Only the one." - -The colonel nodded and turned to the boys again. - -"And if you had been lucky enough to return to--to General Wavell's -base, as you think that _other_ plane did," he asked softly, "just what -would you have reported, eh?" - -Dave opened his mouth to let fly with a wise-crack, but Freddy beat him -to the punch. - -"Your plan of surprise attack, of course," the English youth said -quietly. "How you have fifteen motorized units hidden out here on the -desert. And how you plan to make the surprise attack on the British -garrison at Tobruk just before dawn tomorrow. And how you expect to -take Tobruk from the English and thus trap all of the British forces -that extend westward to Bengazi and the most advanced outpost at El -Aghelia at the southern end of the Gulf of Sidra. Yes, those and a few -other details. But it doesn't matter now about us giving the British -High Command the information. The other two chaps have informed them, -of course." - -Had a thousand pound aerial bomb suddenly blown up inside the desert -headquarters tent at that moment, no one there could have been more -surprised. The German colonel's eyes bulged out, and his jaw dropped -down so low it almost struck the top of the table covered with maps. -Even Dave caught his breath and stared hard at his pal. The English -youth simply smiled and shrugged, and appeared to be enjoying himself -immensely. Eventually the German colonel pulled himself together and -snorted aloud. - -"Very clever, my little swine," he sneered. "For a moment I thought you -did know something. But of course you don't. Nor does anybody else, for -you two were alone." - -Freddy Farmer shrugged again. - -"Then it must be so if you say so," he said gravely. - -The colonel reddened again. He clenched and unclenched his big fists -and looked as though he were going to lose his temper completely and -lash out at the young Englishman. He held his temper in check, however, -and twisted his lips into a sneer. - -"Perhaps you know some of the other details?" he asked, and watched -Freddy's face closely. - -"No, I don't, to tell the truth," Freddy replied calmly. "Perhaps -you'll be good enough to tell me. It's about the Italian fleet. I'm not -sure what part it is to play in your attack plans." - -The words scored another bull's-eye, that once again amazed everybody -including Dave Dawson. Then, before anybody could speak, Freddy spoke -again. - -"Not that it matters," he said, "but are units of the Italian fleet -to bombard Bengazi and Derna? Or just Tobruk? Of course, the British -Mediterranean fleet will be there to greet them, but I'm curious to -know, just the same." - -The German colonel opened his mouth to bellow with anger, then suddenly -snapped it shut. He smiled and looked at Freddy with almost a touch of -admiration. - -"My congratulations, my little Englisher," he said. "You are far more -clever than I suspected. But your eyes gave you away just now. Too bad. -You might have enjoyed yourself a bit watching me worry. But such is -fate, eh? My surprise attack? I am quite willing to explain it to you. -Dead men cannot talk, you know." - -The German paused, and the cold glitter that came into his eyes seemed -to touch Dave's heart like fingers of ice. - -"You are quite correct," the German continued speaking. "There are -fifteen desert units hidden out here on the desert. We have been in -the desert for a full week now. And not one Englishman has known that -we were here. Fifteen units. A mechanized infantry division, and a -tank division. Over thirty thousand troops ready and eager to teach -you Englishmen a lesson you will never forget. No, the Italians are -not fighting your great General Wavell this time. This time it will be -Germans--_real_ soldiers. And we will crush and annihilate Wavell's -troops to the last man." - -The German nodded savagely and thumped his fist on the table for -emphasis. - -"At Tobruk, at dawn tomorrow!" he shouted a moment later. "Tonight -will be our last night on the desert. At dawn tomorrow the battle and -victory. Nothing can stop us. Nothing shall! And within a week we shall -be in Alexandria and Cairo. The British Northern African army will -be shattered, and your great General Wavell's troops in Ethiopia and -Eritrea will arrive too late. They will simply march into our waiting -arms!" - -"And the Italian fleet?" Freddy murmured as the other stopped shouting. - -"They will do their little part to help with the bombardment of -Tobruk," the Colonel said with an impatient gesture. "But we are -prepared to carry them on our backs if we have to. And now, my little -Englander, we speak of you. Does your American friend understand -German, too?" - -"We both speak and understand it," Freddy replied calmly. - -Dave stifled a gasp of utter amazement just in time. As it was, he -could not stop himself from jerking his head around and staring at -Freddy out of accusing eyes. Freddy admitting they both spoke German? -What in thunder had gotten into him? Yet the German colonel seemed to -have known they spoke his language, or at least that Freddy did. What -in the world-- - -"It is amusing to speak English," the German colonel's voice cut into -his whirling thoughts. "So we will not change. Now I have given you a -little information. It is your turn to give me some. I wish to be sure -about the strength of the British garrisons at Tobruk, and Derna, and -Bengazi. Also the British strength at Bardia, and at Sollum on the -Egyptian frontier. You will give me that information?" - -"Even if I knew, which I don't," Freddy said, speaking right up to him, -"I most certainly wouldn't tell you a thing." - -"Bravo!" the German cried in a mocking voice, and clapped his hands. -"The little English pig is full of courage. Of course you wouldn't tell -me _now_! Later, it will be different. You both will beg and scream for -permission to tell me everything you know." - -"That's what you think!" Dave spoke up for the first time in several -minutes. "You've got another guess coming, if you ask me." - -"I am not asking you, my American fool!" the German snapped at him. -"You, and this little Englisher, will be asking me--yes, begging me to -listen to all you have to say. And that will be a lot. Ah, sneer, and -look very brave, if you wish, but tonight it will be different. Yes, -much different. You two will come along with us tonight on our last -march to our attack positions. But tonight you will not ride in one of -the cars. You will walk and run behind my car. Your hands will be tied -behind your backs, and there will be a rope leading from each of you to -the rear of my car. It will not be pleasant, my little ones. Sand and -exhaust fumes will get in your eyes, in your noses, and in your mouths. -You will stumble and fall and be dragged through the sand before we can -stop the car. The sand and the desert brush will peel the skin from -your bodies. We will set you on your feet again, and continue onward. -Presently, again you will stumble and fall, and again the sand will do -its work. Again, and again, and again--until your brains crack and you -beg me to listen to what you have to say." - -The German stopped short, and his smile was as cruel as the smile on -the face of Satan himself. - -"Yes, you will talk tonight, never fear!" he spat at them. Then he -jerked his head around to the major. - -"Have the guard take them back to their prison tent!" he barked. -"Perhaps when they have thought it over a bit, they will decide not to -make me force them to speak. I am no murderer, but victory comes first! -Take them away!" - - - - -CHAPTER FOURTEEN - -_R.A.F. Lightning_ - - -When the two boys were back in their prison tent, and the guard had -taken up his post, Freddy turned to Dave and looked at him out of sad -and apologetic eyes. - -"I'm sorry, Dave," he said. "I was a complete idiot, and I wouldn't -blame you for shooting me. I guess I just couldn't resist throwing it -into the blighter's face." - -"Maybe you know what you're talking about," Dave said with a hopeless -sigh, "but it's all just so much succotash to me. What gives, anyway? -How did you find out about their attack plans? And for cat's sake, when -did he find out we spoke German? Boy! Am I in a flat spin!" - -"Then you didn't notice it?" Freddy asked in surprise. "You didn't see -what I saw?" - -"No, guess I'm blind as a bat," Dave said. "But let's cut out the -guessing games. Tell me the works before I pass out with curiosity." - -"Why, it was one of those maps on the table in front of him," Freddy -said. "The one by his right hand. It was completely marked and showed -the whole plan of attack. It was hard reading the notes he'd made -because they were upside down to me. But I got most of them after a -while, and filled in the rest with guesses. At the end there he saw me -looking at the map and realized how I had found out so much. If only I -hadn't let him catch me. I had the beggar mighty worried. I'm sure I -had him actually believing that there was another plane with us, and -that it got back to Wavell's headquarters. Blast the luck, anyway!" - -"Well, I sure take the booby prize!" Dave groaned. "Sure, I saw the -maps, but I was just dope enough not to give them a thought. Old Freddy -Farmer with the hawk eye--and brains. But how come he figured you spoke -German?" - -"The maps, Dave, the maps!" Freddy said patiently. "All the notes -and stuff were in German. He realized at once that I had read and -understood them. Don't you see?" - -Dave groaned again and threw up his hands in a gesture of despair. - -"Look, Freddy," he said, "if I turn around will you give me a good -swift kick? Boy, am I slipping! Yeah, I guess you were crazy to select -me to come along with you on this trip. I'm a lot of help, I don't -think!" - -"Now, just cut that out!" Freddy snapped at him. "No one runs down -my best pal to my face, not even you. It was just by luck I happened -to notice the map, anyway. And look what small good it's done! That -cold-blooded beggar wasn't fooling us, Dave. He's just the type to do -what he says he'll do. And it's all my fault. If I'd only kept my mouth -shut." - -"It's your turn to lay off running down my best pal," Dave told with a -grin. "What's done is done, as they say. We've just got to figure some -way to beat him. One thing, anyway. We know the whole set-up now. Gosh! -If we could only get hold of that map and get out of here--" - -Dave let the rest trail off into silence and stared moodily out the -opened front of the tent. The Germans were making an inspection of -their equipment after the night's march across the desert. Fuel supply -trucks were being unloaded, and squads of soldiers were refueling the -tanks and armored cars and troop transports, while others were checking -engines and guns, and making sure that everything was in order. - -The two boys watched them for several moments, then suddenly Dave -leaned close to Freddy and spoke in a whisper. - -"We've got about one chance in a thousand, Freddy," he said, "maybe not -even that much of a chance. But we've got to do something, and do it -darn soon. Got any ideas, or suggestions?" - -"Not a one," the English youth replied instantly. "But I can tell you -have. What is it?" - -"While one of us keeps this guard busy," Dave said, "the other has got -to sneak over there to that fuel supply truck and touch off the gas and -Diesel oil it's carrying, and get back here. Then in the excitement -that follows, we've got to reach the headquarters tent, grab that map -and get away in the Messerschmitt. What do you think?" - -"I think it's like trying to fly to the moon," Freddy grunted. "But -that doesn't mean I'm not game to try it. Just how do you expect to -keep the guard busy while one of us sneaks over to that fuel truck?" - -Dave didn't answer at once. He sat watching the squads of German -soldiers move farther and farther along the line of trucks. Presently -they were hidden from view at the far end of the line. He touched -Freddy's arm, put a cautioning finger to his lips, and rose slowly -to his feet. Before the English youth could stop him, Dave had moved -forward with the speed of striking lightning. The guard had his back -to them and was staring out across the camouflaged desert camp for -a moment before resuming his pacing. In that split second of time -allowed, Dave Dawson acted. He flashed out his right hand and plucked -the guard's Luger from its belt holster before the German realized what -had happened. - -"Turn, and you're a dead man!" Dave warned him in German, and backed -into the tent. - -The guard checked his half turn and froze, the hands gripping his -Mauser rifle turning white at the knuckles. - -"Just keep walking up and down," Dave spoke to him in a steady, deadly -voice. "Go ahead and raise an alarm if you want to, but it won't do -_you_ any good, see? Your pals may shoot us, but _you'll_ be dead -before they can start shooting. Go ahead, now. Walk up and down some -more--and hold that rifle just like you're doing. _Barrel pointed up!_" - -As Dave held his breath, the guard hesitated a moment. Then his desire -to go on living won out. He started pacing up and down in front of the -prison tent, holding his rifle so that the barrel pointed to the sky. - -"Good grief!" Freddy breathed softly. "I never would have believed it -possible. That was wonderful, Dave. Phew! It was--it's left me weak as -a kitten. It--" - -"Then get strong, and pronto!" Dave ordered, and thrust the Luger into -his hands. "I'm on my way to the fuel truck. Shut up, and don't argue. -You keep that guard occupied. Don't let up on him for an instant. If -worse comes to worse--shoot and duck out the back of this tent and -head for the rear of the headquarters tent. Your shots will bring them -running, I hope, and we'll still have a chance. But watch the guard and -keep telling him how a bullet hurts. He's yellow, or he wouldn't have -folded up just now. Okay, I'm on my way. Luck to us both, pal!" - -Freddy started to open his mouth to protest, but Dave silenced him with -a quick shake of his head. - -"About time I did something for our team," he grunted, and moved toward -the front of the tent. "You just hold everything. Be right back." - -He took another step and flashed a searching look outside. The Germans -checking their equipment were well out of sight by now. As a matter -of fact, he didn't see a sign of a single German save the guard who -marched slowly up and down with eyes that were saucers of fear. - -"You're doing fine," Dave grunted at him in his own tongue. "Just keep -it up. My pal is the best shot in the British army. He could split your -backbone in two from that distance without half trying." - -The guard shivered slightly but did not turn his head. Dave threw a -final wink and a grin back at Freddy, and then went out of the tent and -off toward the left with the speed of a shell leaving the muzzle of -a gun. Legs working like piston rods, and body bent well forward, he -streaked across a fifty foot open stretch of sand to the safety of the -first of the parked tanks. There he halted for a brief instant, tore -off a large piece of his shirt and pulled an army clip of waterproof -matches from his pocket. Then he streaked forward again toward the -nearest fuel truck. Tins of gas and oil had been taken out and placed -on the ground. He grabbed hold of one and, working with the speed of -lightning, untwisted the cap and soaked his torn piece of shirt with -gas. Then he placed the piece of cloth close to the pile of tins. -Crouching down, he struck one of his matches, tossed the flame down -onto the gas-soaked strip of shirt cloth, spun around in a continuation -of the same movement and raced for dear life back toward the prison -tent. - -He was still several strides from the tent when the flames reached the -first of the gas tins. It exploded in a roar of sound, and brilliant -orange red fire leaped up into the sky. Even as Dave dashed into the -tent and snatched the Luger from Freddy's hand, a second and a third -tin of fuel exploded. Dave didn't take time out to watch the fireworks -display. As Freddy gaped at him open-mouthed, Dave twisted back toward -the guard, who stood staring dumb-eyed at the flames, and cracked him -back of the ear with the barrel of the Luger. The German slowly folded -up and dropped to the ground without a sound. - -"So he won't shoot when our backs are turned!" Dave barked at Freddy, -and dived for the rear of the tent. "Come on, and put plenty of speed -into your legs. It's make or break for us now!" - -The English youth needed no urging. He dived after Dave, and they both -squirmed out from under the rear side of the tent like a couple of -snakes fleeing a flaming jungle. By then the whole desert camp was in a -terrific uproar. Troops and officers were racing madly toward the fuel -truck, which was now a towering column of flame and pitch black smoke -that reached high up into the sky. Hoarse shouted orders flew thick and -fast, and the soldiers fell upon nearby equipment like mad demons and -tried to haul it farther away from the blazing inferno. - -All that Dave and Freddy saw out of the corners of their eyes as -they raced zigzagging toward the rear of the headquarters tent. They -actually passed German troops rushing toward the fire, but not one of -the enemy soldiers so much as gave them a glance. All eyes were riveted -on the towering column of flame and smoke. - -In less time than it takes to tell about it, Dave and Freddy had darted -and twisted around tanks and armored cars and reached the rear of the -headquarters tent. There they halted and strained their ears for any -sounds inside. It was impossible to tell if there was anybody inside, -however, because of the terrific din that rolled across the desert camp -in ever increasing waves of sound. - -Dave nodded to Freddy, gripped the Luger tightly, dropped to his knees -in the sand and whipped up the bottom edge of the tent canvas. One -look and wild joy flooded his face. Freddy saw that look and didn't -bother to ask questions. Seconds later both were inside the empty tent -and stuffing maps and papers inside their shirts. Another few seconds -and they started to turn around and skin out the way they had entered. -At that exact instant, however, a blurred figure came racing into the -tent. Dave saw the flash of a gun coming up and let his body drop. At -the same time he shoved Freddy with his free hand, and swung his Luger -and pulled the trigger with the other. - -Two shots blended together as one. Death hissed past an inch from -Dave's nose and bored a hole in the rear wall of the tent. The blurred -figure screamed with pain, dropped his gun and clutched wildly for his -right shoulder. It was not until then Dave recognized the pain-twisted -face of the German major. - -"For the two punching bags you made out of us!" Dave barked at him in -German, and then practically slid out under the rear tent flap on his -stomach. - -Leaping to his feet, he paused long enough to give Freddy a hand up, -and then led the way at top speed toward the extreme rear of the camp. -Once he reached it, he swerved sharply to the right and ran along -behind a line of parked troop trucks. Presently he pulled up to a -panting halt beside the last truck. The burning fuel truck was now far -to his right and to his front. Directly in front of him, though, and -not fifty yards away, was the Messerschmitt One-Ten. There wasn't a -soul near it. Every jack man in the camp was busy fighting tooth and -nail to stop the blaze of the fuel truck from spreading. Dave reached -back and gripped Freddy's arm. - -"I'll dive for the controls," he said, talking fast, "You dive for the -rear pit and the guns. They've stopped the engines, but I'll kick them -into life, and taxi away from here. You hold them back with your guns -in case they start after us. Can't taxi too fast because of the sand. -And I don't dare take off at once. Want to give the engines a little -time to get turning over sweet. Okay?" - -"Okay!" Freddy breathed. "And you'll get the Victoria Cross for this, -if I've got anything to say about it." - -"Just the flight deck of the Victory will be okay by me," Dave said -grimly. "Right! Here we go!" - - - - -CHAPTER FIFTEEN - -_Vulture Wings_ - - -The fifty yards to the unguarded Messerschmitt One-Ten seemed more like -fifty miles to Dave as he and Freddy sprinted across the sand. His -heart hammered against his ribs, and not just because of his running -efforts. With every step he expected to hear the roaring challenge and -the sharp bark of rifles and Lugers speeding bullets toward him. With -every step, also, a hundred wild, crazy thoughts flashed through his -brain. Was the Messerschmitt in condition to fly? Was there enough gas -in the tanks to take them to British held ground? Would the engines -start? Would he be able to make a good desert take-off? Hundreds and -hundreds of wild thoughts, each one stabbing his brain like a pin point -of fire. - -And then, suddenly, they had reached the German plane and had vaulted -into the cockpit. Dave's fingers fairly flew to the starter buttons, -the throttles, and other gadgets all marked in German. A soul torturing -eternity dragged by, and then the twin 1150 hp. Daimler-Benz engines -roared into life. The instant he heard the first peep out of the -engines, Dave kicked off the right wheel brake, gunned the engines -slightly and started the One-Ten moving around to the left. Every ounce -of his flying skill was in his fingertips as he nursed the throttles -and got the plane to moving faster and faster. Whether they had been -seen, whether they were already being pursued and fired upon, he did -not know. He didn't even bother to find out. He simply concentrated -every bit of his effort on taxiing the Messerschmitt away from the -desert camp and "nursing" the throttles so they would get maximum power -out of the engines. - -One moment--two--three--Finally the One-Ten was fairly skipping across -the surface of the sand. A high dune rose up straight in front of Dave. -He gulped, swallowed and pulled back hard on the control stick. The -wheels seemed to stick to the sand for one last moment, then the plane -practically leaped into the air, and the dangerous sand dune rushed -by underneath. Dave whistled, wiped sweat from his face, and twisted -around in the seat to look back. The desert camp was rapidly falling -away and down. The column of flame and smoke from the burning fuel -truck still mounted into the sky. He saw several other tongues of flame -spitting his way, and realized at once that they were Germans trying to -knock them out of the sky with rifle and machine gun fire. The bullets, -however, weren't even coming close. And Freddy, hunched over the rear -guns, wasn't even bothering to pull the triggers. - -A moment later the English youth let go of his guns and turned front to -grin happily at Dave. - -"Clean as a whistle, Dave!" he cried. "The beggars are only just now -realizing what happened. Good grief, don't ever remind me that this -actually happened, because I won't believe you. Talk about your fairy -stories! This is certainly one nobody would ever swallow." - -"Oh, that was child's play!" Dave chuckled, and made a mocking bravado -gesture. "You should see me when I'm really hot, pal. Heck! That was -just fun. Let's go back and do it all over again just to make them -madder, huh?" - -Freddy made a face and stabbed a finger to the north. - -"Just get going _that_ way, and quickly, my friend," he said, "or I'll -boot you out of that seat and take the controls myself. No, thanks! -I've jolly well had all I want of the nasty Nazis for a while!" - -Dave laughed and sticked the Messerschmitt out of its roaring power -zoom, then banked around toward the north. He took one last look back -at the desert camp that was now little more than a darkish patch on the -distant desert, and then turned front and gave all of his attention to -the instrument panel. The things he noticed brought a happy smile to -his lips. The tanks were full, the engines were performing perfectly, -and there was not the slightest indication that the plane would not -carry them safely to British-occupied Bengazi. - -Fate, however, had decided that such was not to be their good fortune. -Fate, assisted by the radio back at the desert camp, and three -Messerschmitt 109 single seater fighters sent streaking away from the -nearest Nazi air base. Fate, plus the marvel of radio, plus the speed -of Messerschmitt 109s. What Dave's instruments told him really didn't -have anything to do with it at all. - -The first indication that all was not to be nice, pleasant sailing came -at the end of some thirty-five minutes, when Freddy suddenly banged him -on the shoulder and pointed up and off to the left. He looked in that -direction and saw the three dots high-tailing down out of the dawn sky -with the speed of comets gone absolutely crazy. - -"Company, Dave!" Freddy shouted. "The blighters got on the radio, of -course, and contacted Tripoli air base. Looks like we're in for a bit -of trouble." - -"Not Tripoli," Dave said with a shake of his head. "Those birds -couldn't have come this far so soon. Sure, they probably got on the -radio, but to some spot much closer. If you ask me, it looks as if -they've started moving the planes up closer. Set up a few emergency -fields out in the desert so they wouldn't have to fly so far to give -air support to the ground forces." - -"That's probably it," Freddy agreed. "But right or wrong, it doesn't -make any difference now. Think you can skip past before they catch up -with us?" - -Dave stared at the three dots coming down from the left and then -glanced ahead at the seemingly endless expanse of desert. It stretched -to the north as far as he could see, and there wasn't a single sign of -any British outpost or desert village garrison. He couldn't tell for -sure, though, because a strange copperish color was crawling up over -the northern horizon. - -"No, we can't fly away from them," he told Freddy with a shake of his -head. "We'll have to make a running fight of it, and hope for the -best. Okay, Freddy, they're asking for it, so let's give it to the -bums." - -Freddy made no answer. He went back to his guns and checked them to -make sure everything was in order. Dave fed the two Daimler-Benz -engines every ounce of gas they would take and eased the nose up to get -as much altitude as possible before the three Messerschmitt 109s could -close in from the left and give battle. The lull before the battle -lasted less than a minute. Flying by hand, Dave kept his eyes glued -on the diving attackers, and was set and ready the instant he saw the -little stabbing tongues of flame dart out from the nose of each German -plane. - -In that instant he acted, and at lightning speed. He tossed the -Messerschmitt One-Ten up over on wingtip and pulled it around in -a steep bank and headed straight for the three One-Nines. It was -obviously not what the German pilots had expected. They had undoubtedly -counted on Dave to wheel around the other way and attempt to race away -from them. So when, instead, they saw the "victim" plane flash around -toward them and open up with a withering fire from the nose guns and -two 20-mm. cannon, they broke diving formation at once, and each pilot -tried frantically to skid out into the clear. - -Two of the planes succeeded in doing just that. The center plane of -the formation, however, was doomed. Dave had it square in his sights, -and a blind man could not have missed from that distance. His savage -fire covered the German plane like a tent. The craft staggered forward -a short distance, then suddenly fell off on one wing and went down, -leaving behind a long trail of oily black smoke. - -"Let that teach you to stay home where you belong!" Dave shouted -impulsively, and pulled up for more altitude. - -"And you, too, my little Jerry!" - -Freddy's words were drowned out by the yammer of his guns. Dave jerked -his head around in time to see a second Messerschmitt appear to fly -right into an invisible meat chopper. The left wing came off and broke -up in a hundred pieces. The fuselage buckled just in back of the -cockpit, and the right wing crumpled like so much tin foil. Never had -Dave seen a plane come apart so completely in the air, and he gazed -pop-eyed at the shower of debris slithering downward. - -"Man, oh, man!" he gasped aloud. "What are you throwing at him, Freddy? -Naval shells?" - -"Wondering, myself!" the English youth called back in an awed voice. -"Good grief, that ship must have been made of cardboard!" - -"Or maybe china!" Dave added. "Gee, I never--" - -The savage chatter of German Rheinmettal-Borsig aerial machine guns -didn't give him a chance to finish. The third Messerschmitt One-Nine -had cut around in a flash turn and was boring in with all guns blazing. -A handful of death slammed into Dave's plane, and he felt the One-Ten -shake and shiver under the savage impact of the shower or bullets. He -jumped on the left rudder with every ounce of his strength and slammed -the plane around in a turn that made a pinkish haze rise up before his -eyes. Just the same he held the plane in the turn as long as he dared. -Then, just before the terrific turning force would have rolled his -eyes back and made him temporarily blind, he eased out and zoomed for -altitude. Five hundred feet higher he flattened off at the top of the -zoom, banked to the left and looked down and back for a sign of the -Messerschmitt One-Nine. - -It wasn't there, gun spewing up after him, however, and he swallowed -in relief. That surprise attack had come much too close for comfort, -and he was positive that had the German followed up his advantage one -Dave Dawson, and one Freddy Farmer, would have been in a mighty bad fix -right then. Then Freddy's hand rapped him on the shoulder. - -"Don't look down, look west, Dave!" the English youth called out. -"There he goes, and bad luck to him, I say. The blighter took twenty -years off my life. I could have reached out and caught his bullets as -they went by." - -"Reach out?" Dave echoed, and watched the attacking plane race farther -and farther westward. "Boy! If I hadn't ducked I _would_ have caught -them with my _head_! Well, it's nice the guy decided he'd had enough, -anyway. Now, we can--" - -But it suddenly wasn't so nice after all. The German pilot had gone -racing away, but he had left his calling card. And the gods of war, -wherever they were sitting huddled together, laughed with glee at the -unfortunate turn of events. The right engine (right outboard engine) -started sputtering out its story that it was all through for the day. -Dave instantly cut the ignition and throttle to prevent the possibility -of fire. With the right engine gone, the force of the left outboard -engine tried to veer the ship around in that direction, and Dave was -forced to put on a lot of opposite rudder to keep the plane flying -straight. - -That, however, didn't help much. With one engine completely dead, the -plane began to lose altitude slowly. Even with the left outboard -engine running full blast, the Messerschmitt One-Ten became logy in -the air, and it was all Dave could do to keep it on an even keel, and -stop it from whipping over and down into a spin. Presently, after he -had almost lost control a couple of times, he was forced to nose down -slightly and keep the nose down. He turned around and shook his head -sadly at Freddy's bitter expression. - -"This doesn't seem to be our lucky day, either," he said. "We have a -little altitude, but not much. In ten minutes or so we'll be down so -low we'll have to land. These jobs just won't fly on one engine. Would -you like to take a stroll on the nice desert, my little man?" - -Freddy groaned aloud and flung a look of hate down at the stretches of -desert sand below. - -"If I come out of this alive," he declared in harsh tones, "I'll shoot -the blighter who even mentions the word, sand, to me. Well, tough luck -for us, Dave. Thank goodness, though, that beggar got scared and went -barging on home. I fancy he'd be enjoying himself a lot right now, if -he had hung around." - -"Being a Nazi, he sure would," Dave nodded. "Crippled ships are -their favorite dish. It was the same in the First World War, too, I -understand. What a race of people! But, darn it, this desert landing -burns me up. And I don't mean that as a wise-crack. It's getting to be -a habit with me. I probably won't know what to do if I ever see a real -airdrome or carrier flight deck again. I wonder how far we are from the -British lines." - -"A long, long walk over this blasted desert, I'm afraid," Freddy said -gloomily. "And we've got to get there long before dawn tomorrow, too, -or the information we have won't be worth much. It will take a few -hours at least for the British garrisons west of Tobruk, at Derna and -Bengazi, to fall back to the main body, or they'll be cut off by the -Germans blocking the way at Tobruk." - -"That's right," Dave said, and guided the plane downward. "And that's -exactly what the Nazis plan to do to make their attack a complete -success: smash right through the middle of the British defenses; cut -British strength in half, and then mop up a half at a time. But, darn -it, we can't let them get away with that even if we have to run all the -way to Tobruk, or some British outpost that has a radio. No, darn it, -we'll beat those Nazis yet. We're not through, and all washed up." - -"Well, we are with this airplane, anyway," Freddy grunted. "Here comes -that blasted desert. Oh, how I hate the very sight of sand! But don't -think I'm giving up hope and quitting, Dave. Don't crack us up. I'm -just talking aloud, you know." - -"It'll be a rainy day when you up and quit, Freddy," Dave said with a -chuckle. "Don't worry. I feel just the same way. I could chew nails -plenty right now. Oh well, hold your hats, children." - -Dave cut the ignition of the left outboard engine, leveled off just -over the sand, and then let the plane sink down to one of the finest -landings he had ever made in his flying career. When he had braked the -plane to a stop, he sank back in in the seat and sighed heavily. - -"And I'd go and waste a nice landing like that way out here!" he -grunted. "Well, I guess--Hey! _Hey, Freddy!_ Look over there! That -cloud of sand. What in thunder is it?" - -To the right and far ahead, a cloud of swirling sand was moving swiftly -toward them. Both boys stared wide-eyed as the approaching cloud seemed -to grow bigger and bigger and spread up to the sides. Then suddenly -they saw dull colored objects under the cloud and moving over the sand. -Freddy found his tongue first. - -"Tanks or armored cars heading for us!" he cried. "Blast them, I'm -jolly well going to make them pay for taking us prisoners. I won't just -walk into their waiting arms this time!" - -As the English youth shouted the words, he stood up in the pit and -swung his mounted guns around to bear on the rapidly approaching cloud -of sand. Dave reached back and grabbed him by the arm. - -"Hold it, Freddy!" he cried. "That would be just plain dumb. We've got -more than just ourselves to think about. It would be just plain foolish -to fight it out. They can blow us right out of the desert without half -trying. Then where'd we be? Keep your shirt on, and just keep thinking -of the maps and papers you've got stuffed under it." - -The English youth's eyes blazed with anger, and he hesitated a moment -before he slowly dropped his hands away from the guns. - -"Yes, of course you're right," he mumbled. "Getting ourselves killed -would simply spoil everything. But, good grief, what I wouldn't give -to--" - -"Freddy, shut up, and look!" Dave interrupted in a wild voice. "They're -armored cars, but they're not German! Take a look! See? See the type? -Those are from a British unit. They're English! For cat's sake start -waving your arm before they start pegging bullets at us. This is a -Nazi plane, you know. And maybe those guys don't feel like taking -prisoners today!" - -Freddy Farmer didn't bother wasting breath agreeing. He had seen for -himself. He popped up onto his feet, as did Dave also. And together -they started waving their arms at the most comforting sight they had -seen for many long hours--British made and British manned armored cars -of the desert! - - - - -CHAPTER SIXTEEN - -_Desert Wrath_ - - -The British desert patrol consisted of four cars led by a small scout -car that flew a Staff pennant from one of the front fenders. The scout -car came straight at the landed Messerschmitt, while the patrol cars -circled around to the right and the left and came to a halt in a ring -about the plane. Two officers were riding in the scout car--a major, -and a lieutenant who sat at the wheel. When the car stopped, the major -jumped out and ran toward the plane, one hand on his holstered service -automatic. He was tall and broad-shouldered and was tanned a deep -mahogany from many weeks and months under the blazing desert sun. The -decoration and campaign ribbons on his tunic showed that he had served -his King in the last war as well as in this one. - -"Don't shoot, sir, we're English!" Freddy shouted, and scrambled down -from the plane. - -The major stopped dead and stared at them, wide-eyed. Then he took a -cautious step forward, his right hand still resting on the butt of his -gun. - -"What the devil?" he gasped. "Infantry officers flying a plane? What's -this all about?" - -"Pilot Officers Dawson and Farmer from the Aircraft Carrier Victory, -sir," Freddy said. "We've just escaped from the Nazis far to the south, -and were on our way to G.H.Q. when we were attacked by a trio of Nazi -pilots. We got two of them, but the third beggar got our engine and we -were forced to come down. Thank God you saw us, sir." - -"Thank God we didn't open fire on you," the major grunted. "We don't -care much for Nazi planes. But what's this about escaping? Nazis far to -the south? That's rot! The desert's bare as can be." - -"That's what you think!" Dave cried before he could check his tongue. -Then, blushing, "Sorry, sir. I mean, it looks that way, but the desert -is practically alive with them. Freddy, let's show the major our stuff, -and tell him the whole story. You tell him." - -Just about six minutes later the major, who said he was Major Alden, -of the 41st Armored Division, was probably the most amazed and -dumbfounded person in all Libya, and Egypt as well. He could hardly -take his eyes off the maps and papers the boys pulled out from under -their shirts and spread out on one wing of the Messerschmitt One-Ten. -The other officer in the scout car, a Lieutenant Baxby, joined them, -and he too was struck speechless. - -"Bless my hat, bless my hat!" Major Alden kept mumbling. "The -whole blasted plan of attack. Units, numbers, gun strength, air, -navy--everything. Great guns! I'll never be able to believe it!" - -"But it's true, sir," Dave spoke up. "That Nazi colonel actually told -us what he planned. He was shooting off his--I mean, he was boasting. -Like Nazis do, because he thought he had us for keeps. Can you give us -a lift to the nearest radio post, sir? The sooner we notify G.H.Q. the -better it will be, I think." - -"Eh, give you a lift?" the major echoed looking up from the maps and -military papers. "I'll jolly well drive you there myself, straight to -General Maitland at Tobruk H.Q. We can make it by just before sundown -if we hop along now. Great guns! The blighters would have wiped out the -lot of us in no time at all. God bless the R.A.F., I say!" - -The major gathered up the stuff on the wing and spun around to his -junior officer. - -"Take over the patrol, Baxby," he ordered. "Ride in Sergeant Tucker's -car. Head back to the post at once, and have all other patrols called -in immediately. Then move back to Tobruk to await orders. Got it?" - -"Right you are, sir," the lieutenant said. - -"Then off with you," the major ordered. "Come along, you two R.A.F. -lads. Blast it, if this isn't like a cinema thriller!" - -Motioning the two boys to climb in back, the major slid in behind the -wheel, shifted gears and sent the light, fast scout car careening -around and toward the north. The violent movement pitched Freddy and -Dave down onto the floor, and by the time they had scrambled up onto -the little stools again and were clutching the two mounted machine -guns for support, the car was like a brown streak of lightning ripping -across the surface of the sand and leaving a swirling trail behind. - -"Gosh!" Dave shouted above the roar of the engine. "If we had wings -this darned thing would take off!" - -"Dashed if I don't think we already have!" Freddy called back. "Look -over there to the right, Dave! Look at the color of the sky." - -To the east the sky was filled with a dull copperish haze. It spread -out to the side for miles and towered high into the heavens. It was as -though a huge expanse of copper screen mesh had been spread across the -blue of the Libyan sky. At its highest point the sun was perched like a -brass ball on the top of a flag pole. - -"Maybe it's going to rain," Dave suggested. "Maybe rain clouds are that -color in this neck of the woods." - -"Rain in March?" Freddy snorted. "The rainy season's long over before -then. That's some kind of a desert storm, I think." - -Freddy let go of the machine gun mounting long enough to lean forward -toward the front seat. - -"What's that sky mean off to the right, sir?" He shouted the question. - -The major took his eyes off the desert ahead just long enough to flash -a snap glance toward the copperish-colored sky to the east. As he saw -it, he started slightly, and his sandy-colored brows came together in a -frown. - -"Sand storm!" he called back over his shoulder. "And if it catches up -with us it'll be very nasty indeed. That's a good one, too. Getting -close to the time of year when they kick up quite a bit. If we can't -outrace it, duck low and stay there. The stuff's like powdered glass. -Dash it all! Even the weather's fighting for the Nazi. I--" - -The dreaded snarl of aerial machine gun fire cut off the rest of the -major's statement. Dave whirled around and stared upward and to the -rear. He saw the diving plane at once. It was a Messerschmitt One-Nine. -As a matter of fact, he was positive it was the same One-Nine that -had quit that last air battle and gone racing off home. Obviously, -though, the pilot had come back, sighted the One-Ten on the ground, and -the scout car speeding across the desert to the north. He had added -things up to get the right answer, and was now making a final effort to -prevent valuable information from reaching British headquarters. - -"The bum has come back, Freddy!" Dave shouted, and swung one of the -machine guns around on its swivel mounting. "He wants some more, so -let's give it to him!" - -Freddy Farmer didn't bother wasting breath replying. He simply nodded, -swung the other gun around and lined up the diving plane in his sights. -A split second later both boys were sending savage bursts of bullets -up at the diving plane. The Messerschmitt did not swerve off, however, -even though Dave could see their tracers slapping right into the plane. -The German pilot was determined to do his worst while he lived. He -came right on downward, engine howling a song of mighty power, and all -of his guns spewing out streaks of nickel-jacketed lead bullets. - -"That guy sure can take it!" Dave shouted as he continued to pump -bullets up at the plane. "Maybe he's gone nuts and plans to dive right -down into us." - -"Let him!" Freddy shouted back without taking his eyes off the plane. -"It will be the last dive that beggar makes, anyway!" - -"And a lot of good that will do _us_!" Dave cried. "We'll--_Hey!_" - -The speeding scout car had suddenly careened around crazily to the -left. The violent movement tore Dave's hands from his machine gun and -flung him heavily up against Freddy. He regained his balance as soon as -possible, shot a questioning look toward the major at the wheel, let -out a bellow of alarm and dived forward. - -"Keep at that plane, Freddy!" he shouted, "The major's been hit--and -bad!" - -It was even worse than that. The major had received a burst of bullets -straight through the back of his head. He was stone dead and slumped -over the wheel of the car. Bracing himself as best he could, Dave -hauled the limp body to the side with one hand and clutched wildly for -the wheel with the other, and somehow managed to straighten out the car -before the terrific turning motion sent it off balance and spinning -over and over across the surface of the sand. - -The instant he had the car straightened out, he pushed and shoved the -dead major out of the seat and scrambled in behind the wheel himself. -In his ears was the continuous yammer of the Messerschmitt's guns, -and the retaliating chatter of Freddy Farmer's single gun in back. He -didn't dare turn his head for a look, however. He kept his eyes front -and made the car zigzag as much as he could to throw off the diving -pilot's aim. - -Suddenly there came a wild shout of triumph from Freddy Farmer's lips. - -"That will teach you, you blasted blighter!" Freddy roared. "Now you -can't go back home!" - -Hardly had the last reached Dave's ears before he heard the sickening -sound that a plane makes when it dives engine full out into the -ground--a sickening sound no words can describe. An instant later there -was the roar of the gas tanks exploding, and as Dave jerked his head -around to risk a quick look, he saw a fountain of flame and smoke that -shot upward. Impulsively he eased off the scout car's speed a bit, and -took a deep breath. - -"Thanks, Freddy!" he called back over his shoulder. "I knew you could -do it. Poor Major Alden! What a tough break for him. Gosh! I almost -wish he hadn't spotted us. Then this wouldn't have happened to him. -Can you lift him in back, Freddy, and then come up front here with me? -We'll have to use your pocket compass for a course. I've lost mine, and -the burst that got the major raised heck with his dash compass. Can you -lift him back, or do you want me to stop and give you a hand?" - -"Stop nothing!" Freddy cried in wild alarm. "Drive like blazes, Dave! -Look at that sand storm! It's almost on top of us. You keep driving. -I'll get him back here all right!" - -As Dave turned his head and looked to the east, his heart zoomed up -into his throat. The coppery sky had changed to dull black, streaked -with shafts of swirling yellowish white. In that instant the whole -world seemed to stand still. All sound ceased, save the roar of the -scout car's engine. And its sound was twice as loud because of the -sudden silencing of everything else. - -"Gosh!" Dave whispered in awe as his eyes stayed glued to the hovering -menace aloft that seemed ready to spring upon them in the next split -second. "Holy smoke! Like the end of the world, or something. It's-- -Hey, Freddy, what's the humming sound? No, more like a whine, I guess." - -Freddy didn't have time to offer his guess. A low hum that seemed to be -sweeping across the desert suddenly rose up to a blood-curdling scream -that blasted the surrounding silence to the four corners of the earth. -The lull and the silence were no more. In the bat of an eyelid the fury -of a Libyan desert storm swept down upon the boys in full force. The -car shuddered, and rocked, and threatened to roll over on its side from -the terrific impact of the wind driven sand clouds slashing against it. -Dave bent low and clung to the bucking wheel with every inch of his -strength. - -Daylight was no more. All about him was a swirling, twisting, screaming -inferno of shadowy darkness. Billions and billions of tiny pin points -of pain slashed at his face and hands. They even seemed to dart through -his uniform and practically scrape the skin from his body. It was -impossible to keep his eyes open to see where he was driving. If he -did, he would be blinded in the flash of a split second. All he could -do was keep his head bent low, his face shielded from the furious -onslaught of the desert storm, and hold the wheel as steady as he could -and pray that he was steering a northerly course. - -As the fury of the storm increased, and the high, shrill scream of the -wind seemed like daggers of fire in his ears, he was tempted to swing -the car around and race with the storm in the hope of outdistancing it. -He checked the urge, however, because of the possible consequences. If -they once lost direction in this storm, it would be all over for them. -True, they had Freddy's compass and they could always find north. But -from where? That was the point. If he tried to run with the storm, -he might get so twisted up that he'd be racing back to the south. -Then when the storm passed they would be farther than ever from their -destination. - -No, it was best to hold a general northerly course now, and pray they -could live out the storm. At least the swirling sand would not choke up -the engine and put it out of commission. That was their greatest fear, -and as Dave strained his ears to catch the roar of the engine, and to -feel it by the vibration of the wheel, his heart stood still, and the -blood was so much sluggish ice water in his veins. - -The car's engine, however, had been adequately protected for just such -a situation as it now faced. And it kept roaring out its song of power -that spun the wheels and sent the car rocketing forward slam bang into -the teeth of the storm. Seconds totaled up to minutes, and the minutes -mounted up one on top of the other until Dave felt as though he had -been plowing through the raging desert inferno since the very day he -was born. Wave after wave of stinging pain swept over his body. Every -muscle and bone ached. His head felt three times its size and throbbed -unmercifully. It was like racing down a long black tunnel filled with -roaring thunder, for he dared not open his eyes. He wondered how -Freddy was making out. He didn't dare take his hands from the wheel. -Nor did he dare open his mouth to call out. His words would not only -go unheard, but he would also instantly get a mouthful of stinging -wind-swirled sand. - -There was just one thing, and one thing alone to do: hang on hard to -the wheel to keep the car traveling a straight course to the north. - -Swirling sand, screaming wind, and a hundred new aches and pains -attacking his body every minute. Dave's mind became a spinning blurr, a -blank. Fighting instinct kept him clutching the wheel and guiding the -scout car ever northward. Fighting instinct and a will-power of iron -refused to permit him to brake the car to a halt and sink exhausted -down onto the floor of the car out of the swirling sand and the -cutting wind. He lost all track of time. Time even ceased to exist. It -was as though the howling, screaming sand storm had always been about -him, and always would be. There was no end. Everything would be like -this forever and ever. - -"Dave! Dave, come out of it! Dave, wake up. The storm's over. It's -gone. Dave, look at me. Look at me!" - -From a thousand miles away he heard Freddy Farmer's voice droning in -his ears. His pal was punching his shoulder, grabbing hold of him and -shaking him violently. Through sand-burned eyelids he stared fixedly at -a limitless expanse of desert stretching out ahead of him. Suddenly, -something seemed to let go of his brain and he realized what it all -meant. - -The car wasn't moving. The engine had stopped. The desert storm had -passed on and was now blotting out the sun in the western sky. The -desert was the desert again. He turned his head slowly and stared at -Freddy. It was like looking at a ghost. The English youth was covered -with fine white sand dust from head to toe. It was caked in his hair, -caked on his face, and was sticking like a layer of white glue to his -tattered uniform. - -"Dave, are you all right?" Freddy gasped, and shook him again. "You've -been driving for fifteen minutes as though you were hypnotized, just -clinging to that wheel for dead life and staring straight ahead. I had -to switch off the ignition to stop the car. You were absolutely deaf to -every word I said. Are you all right?" - -"Sure, I'm okay," Dave heard his own voice say. "Gosh! Driving with -my eyes open? Holy smoke! The last thing I remember was driving blind -with my eyes shut and my head ducked down. And, hey, it must be late -afternoon. That storm lasted for hours. Wonder where we are?" - -"I don't know," Freddy said. "But we're headed north, anyway. The sun's -over there on our left, so we must be headed north. Phew! How you were -able to keep on driving through that inferno I don't know. I ducked -down on the floor, and just didn't have the strength to get up and give -you a hand. You must be made of steel, Dave!" - -"I sure don't feel as if I were right now," Dave said, and grinned, -stiff-lipped. "But let's get going again. The ground seems to rise up -quite a bit just ahead there. Maybe we'll see something on the other -side. Boy, oh boy, do I hope it's something besides desert." - -"If it isn't, I swear I'll go stark raving mad," Freddy muttered. "If -I never see a desert again that'll be much too soon." - -"You and me both," Dave grunted and started the engine again. "So cross -your fingers, Freddy, and pray hard. Here we go for the top of that -rise!" - -It took ten minutes to reach the top of the high point of desert, but -every second of those ten minutes was a lifetime of torturing suspense -to Dave and Freddy. Neither of them spoke a word, but the same question -stood out in letters of fire in their brains. What was beyond the rise -of ground? For the last fifty yards Dave fed every ounce of gas to the -pounding engine that it would take, and the car fairly streaked over -the sand. Then finally they roared up and onto the crest. Dave slammed -on the brakes, and sat motionless, unable to utter a word. Emotion ran -riot within him, and the hot tears of inexpressible joy stung the backs -of his eyes. Freddy threw both arms about him and hugged him like a -long lost brother. - -"There it is, Dave!" the English youth cried wildly. "The good old -Union Jack flying from the pole. The British flag. That's Tobruk, Dave. -I recognize it from pictures. Tobruk. You hit it on the nose, Dave. -Right on the nose!" - -"Tobruk!" Dave whispered softly. "Tobruk, and--and I'll never forget -how good you look as long as I live. Never!" - -"The end of the trail, and in time!" Freddy breathed, and unashamed -tears of joy streaked the caked sand on his cheeks. - - - - -CHAPTER SEVENTEEN - -_Claws of the British Lion_ - - -A continuous roaring thunder that seemed to shake the entire world -greeted the new Libyan dawn. The roaring thunder of war on the land, -in the air, and on the sea. Thanks to Dave Dawson and Freddy Farmer, -the British Middle East High Command had been warned in time to call -in its outpost forces and concentrate them into a swift mobile force -that streaked out to smash hard at the enemy forces stealing in for a -surprise attack that never took place. - -On land the British forces struck the middle and both flanks of -the enemy desert forces and sent them reeling back into the desert -scattered and completely disorganized, and suffering terrific -casualties. To the west at El Aghelia, and Bengazi, other Nazi-Italian -units found nothing but small British rear guard units that made them -pay far more for every foot of ground they captured than that foot of -ground was worth. It was the same at many other points, too. Instead -of being surprised, it was General Wavell's armies that surprised the -Axis units. They weren't where the Nazi and Italians had fully expected -them to be. They were like ghost armies that faded out of sight, and -then suddenly materialized on a Nazi flank to crush a tank company -as though they were so many toys, and to spread terror and complete -befuddlement in the enemy ranks. - -In the air every available R.A.F. plane had been hurled into the -battle. Carefully guarded Nazi fuel supply truck units and ammunition -trains and armored car columns were blasted into eternity by the rain -of bombs and bullets showered down from R.A.F. wings. Nazi and Italian -planes were shot down like flies. Numbers made no more difference to -the R.A.F. boys on the wing than numbers meant to the brave-hearted, -two-fisted fighting British, and Australian, and New Zealand and South -African soldiers on the ground. They gave ground, yes, but they left -nothing worth the holding. And the Axis forces paid one of the highest -prices in history for stretches of useless hot desert land. - -On the sea, units of the Mediterranean fleet were doing their share, -too. Italian navy ships sent to take part in the surprise Axis attack -were caught cold by John Bull's sailors, and were scattered about the -blue waters of the Mediterranean like helpless chunks of steel. Not -a single Italian naval shell was fired ashore into the ranks of the -British troops. The Italians didn't have the chance to fire a single -shell. The British sailors caught them in a perfect trap and plastered -them from bow to stern with screaming shells. In a couple of hours -there wasn't a single Italian ship in sight off the Libyan coast. Those -that had not gone down under the waves were scurrying like terrified -ducks for the safety of their bases in Naples and in Taranto, leaving -behind the British navy in supreme command of Libyan waters. - -In one of the R.A.F. planes that roared above the raging war inferno -that stretched from El Aghelia in the west to Bardia and Sollum in the -east, were Dave Dawson and Freddy Farmer. They were still caked with -sand, and they still wore their tattered uniforms. And they were dead -tired and practically all in. But not for all the gold in the world, -or all the discipline in the world, would they have remained on the -ground inactive during this great conflict in the middle East. The -high ranking officers of British G.H.Q. had suggested, begged, and -practically demanded that they go to a hospital in Tobruk, and place -themselves under a doctor's care at once. But arguments, threats, and -demands had simply fallen on deaf ears. In the end, and with frank -admiration glowing in his eyes, General Maitland had granted permission -for them to take a plane from one of the nearby R.A.F. bases and go -aloft for an hour or so to watch the gigantic battle. At the end of -an hour, however, they were to fly out to sea to the Victory, whose -position had been given to them. - -"Five minutes more, Dave!" Freddy shouted above the roar of their -engine. "Think we can get just one more Heinkel bomber before we head -for the Victory?" - -Dave turned in the cockpit, grinned at him, and shook his head. - -"Boy, what a hog for air scrapping you are!" he cried. "But nix, no -more. We more or less promised the general we wouldn't get too close to -the scrapping--just take a look-see around. Instead we tore in and got -us a Nazi apiece. But two's enough. I haven't got half a dozen bullets -left. Besides, this isn't our show, really. The other fellows deserve -their innings. Also, I've suddenly got a yen for the flight deck of the -Victory. What say? Shall we let these guys have their fun without us -butting in, and buzz home to the Victory?" - -Freddy cast a sad glance about the sky swarming with British and Axis -planes, then sighed heavily and nodded. - -"Right you are," he said. "Guess we've been selfish long enough. Yes, -the flight deck of the Victory would be fine. Hurry it up, though. I've -got something very important to do. Matter of life or death, you know." - -"What?" Dave cried in alarm. "You--?" - -"Never mind the questions!" Freddy cut him off. "Just get me to the -flight deck of the Victory as fast as you can." - -Forty minutes later Dave sighted the aircraft carrier, and ten minutes -after that he received word from the operations officer to come aboard. -The huge ship looked strangely bare and alone as it steamed into the -wind. There wasn't a single plane on deck. All available ships were -in the air, either scouting for fragments of the Italian fleet or -lending their aid in the battle ashore. Just the same, the long smooth -deck looked like home sweet home to Dave as he guided his borrowed -two-seater fighting plane downward. - -He came in clean as a whistle, and no sooner had the secret arresting -gear brought the plane to a halt than Group Captain Spencer seemed to -pop right out of thin air and come racing across the deck to greet -them. - -"The happiest day of my life!" he cried, and reached up a helping hand. -"Climb down out of there, you two. Blessed if I don't want to hug and -kiss you. Fancy that!" - -"First tell us about the others, sir," Dave said as he climbed down -onto the deck. "I mean, the other patrols that went out when we didn't -return. Did they get back okay?" - -"Fit as fiddles, and without a speck of information!" the group captain -cried, "But we all know why, now. By George! Is it good to see you two! -I suppose you know you helped a little, eh?" - -"Well," Dave said with a grin, "I hope we helped at least a little." - -"Oh, it was a bit more than that," Group Captain Spencer said with a -mocking shrug. "All you did was save half the British army in Libya -from walking into a death trap. That, plus making it possible for us -to give the Nazis a licking that will slow them up long before they -reach Egypt. And when they do reach Egypt, we'll be able to hold them -until General Wavell's ready to run them all the way back where they -came from. Yes, you two helped some, I guess. And as soon as you're -rested up I want the whole story in detail. Don't leave out a thing. I -insist.... By George! Farmer, what's the matter?" - -Freddy had squatted down on the deck and was tearing off his boots as -though his feet were on fire. - -"Must get rid of them at once!" he panted, and struggled with his -boots. "Die if it touches me any longer. Most terrible stuff in the -world. Deadly poison. Absolutely fatal." - -Dave's heart looped over as he remembered a squashed scorpion on a -Libyan desert rock. - -"Freddy, what is it?" he cried, bending over. "What's in your shoes? -That stuff you talked about life and death in the plane? Freddy, speak -to me! _What's in your shoes?_" - -The English youth got to his feet, picked up his two shoes and hurled -them far out over the side of the carrier. When they had hit the water -and sunk from sight, he shuddered and heaved a long grateful sigh. - -"Sand," he said hoarsely. "Blasted desert sand!" - - -THE END - - * * * * * - -_A Page from_ - -DAVE DAWSON ON CONVOY PATROL - - -Golden sunshine was streaming down on the broad wings of the American -built Consolidated "Catalina" flying boat, but ominous coal black -clouds were beginning to pile up high in the western sky. Even as Dave -Dawson stared at them, they seemed to fling a dark shadow far out over -the rolling grey swells of the North Atlantic. He gave a little angry -shake of his head and impulsively took a tighter grip on the controls -of the flying boat. - -"That storm looks plenty bad, Freddy," he said out of the corner of his -mouth. "What do you think?" - -Freddy Farmer, seated in the co-pilot's seat, nodded grimly and glanced -at the altimeter. It showed exactly nine thousand feet. - -"We'll just have to hit it on the nose, and pray," he said after a -moment. "If we climb above it we might just as well go back to port. - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Dave Dawson in Libya, by Robert Sydney Bowen - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DAVE DAWSON IN LIBYA *** - -***** This file should be named 50309.txt or 50309.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/0/3/0/50309/ - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law 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. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive -specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this -eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook -for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, -performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given -away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks -not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the -trademark license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country outside the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the - United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you - are located before using this ebook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The -Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - - - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the -mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its -volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous -locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt -Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to -date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and -official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -For additional contact information: - - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - diff --git a/old/50309.zip b/old/50309.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 10b891f..0000000 --- a/old/50309.zip +++ /dev/null |
