CHAPTER TWO
_Aces Don't Miss_
Maybe Tojo wasn't obliging the Flying Fortress' commander, but six JapZero pilots most certainly were. As Dawson leaped to a pair of waistguns and peered to port, he saw the six Zeros prop-piling down like sixbullet-spitting maniacs. Steadying himself, he trained his guns on theleading plane and fired. His tracers streaked out and seemed to becutting the Zero's left wing in two, but the Jap craft continued to comeboiling in at the big four-engined bomber. Lumps of lead began to bounceand jounce around in Dawson's stomach. The pilot of that leading Zeroseemed to be bullet-proof. He also seemed to have but one thought in hishead: to keep right on thundering down and ram the Flying Fortress inmidair.
But cold fear was Dawson's for only a brief instant. He corrected hisaim and let fly again with his guns. This time the Zero was out of luck.It took the full fury of Dawson's fire, seemed to stagger in the air fora moment before it blew up in a cloud of orange flame and smoke, andwent showering down out of sight.
"One for our side!" Dawson shouted happily. "Now--!"
The chattering yammer of Freddy Farmer's guns in the slot above him cutoff the rest of Dawson's words. And in practically the same instant asecond Zero spouted black smoke, and then nosed over to go hurtlingstraight downward, tracing its path of doom straight to the surface ofthe Indian Ocean.
"My error!" Dawson bellowed. "I meant, two for our side. Nice going,Freddy!"
Of course the English-born air ace didn't hear him, because all of theFortress's guns were hammering death and destruction into the fourremaining Zeros. In less time than it takes to tell about it, there wereonly two Zeros left. Then only one. And then, as Dawson got off aperfect deflection burst, there weren't any Zeros left in that sectionof the sky.
"And that's that!" Dave panted as he searched the sun-tinted air. "Sixfor six. Not bad. It was almost fun while it lasted. It--well, strikeme pink, as Freddy would say!"
He had happened to glance down at his shirt to see that his silver AirForces pilot's wings were not pinned in place above the left pocketflap. His decoration ribbons were there, but no wings. Where they hadbeen was a nice clean tear in the material. Pop-eyed, he stared at thetear, and then impulsively looked down at the compartment floor boards.And there they were. His wings. But not as he'd ever seen them before.In a few words, they looked as if they had been run over by an expresstrain. Or better still, as if they'd been accidentally dropped into ameat grinder. They were twisted all out of shape, and there was a deepsmooth groove right across the middle from one wingtip to the otherwingtip. And as Dave stared at them, and leaned over to pick them up, atwitch of pain passed across his upper left chest.
"And I didn't even feel that Jap bullet!" he gulped, and fingered thebullet-creased wings. "But, boy, that--that was too darn close!"
"What was too close, Dave?" Freddy Farmer's voice spoke at his elbow.
Dawson held out the bullet-creased wings for Freddy to see.
"One of those birds was a sharp shooter," he said with a mirthlesschuckle. "Only not quite sharp enough, thank my lucky stars. Kind ofclose, huh?"
Freddy Farmer's eyes widened, and for a moment all he could do was stareat the damaged wings and then at the torn space on Dave's shirt wherethey had been.
"Good grief, I can hardly believe it!" he finally gasped. "It's--it's amiracle, Dave. You should be dead, by rights, you know."
"Thanks, I like it better this way," Dawson replied grimly, and droppedthe wings into his pocket. "If I believed in signs I'd take this to meanthat it was only the beginning of something. And now that I come tothink of it, I wonder if it is."
"Rubbish!" Freddy Farmer snorted. "It's a sign, all right. But it's asign of how blasted lucky you always are!"
"Sure!" Dawson growled. "Also a sign that I've got to fork out dough fora new pair, and--No, by gosh, I won't! The pin on these is okay. Sodarned if I won't wear them for continued luck. I'll--"
He cut off the rest as Captain Banks came hurrying into the compartment.The worry on the bomber commander's face faded away as soon as he laideyes on the pair.
"You two okay, eh, thank God!" he grunted. "Well, then I can bawl youout. What was the big idea, anyway? Didn't you stop to remember thatthere're eight other guys on this sky wagon?"
"Huh, Skipper?" Dawson echoed. "Come again?"
"Six nice juicy Zeros!" Captain Banks said with tears in his voice."_Six_ of them! And what happens? You birds nail four of them betweenyou. It ain't right. There should be a law against birds like youcheating us war-starved ferry crews out of a look at the war. Kiddingaside, though, fellows, thanks, and how! Those Zero rats don't wastemuch time giving you the works, do they? And my heart was choking mewhen I thought that one of them was going to ram us. Wonder I didn't putthis old baby in a power spin. I--Hey! What happened to your wings,Dawson? You been teething on them?"
"They dropped off, and Farmer stepped on them before I could pick themup," Dawson grinned. "Look at his big feet, if you don't believe me.But, speaking of other things, Skipper, how long before we get in?"
The Fortress commander glanced at his wrist watch, and pursed his lips.
"Twenty minutes," he said. "Unless we run into more Zeros. And I hopewe do. But hey! Those jobs were pretty far out to sea, now that I cometo think of it."
"Too far," Dave told him quietly. "My guess is that they werecarrier-based. This is your usual ferry course from India to Australia,isn't it?"
"Check, and I get your thought," the pilot nodded as his face becamegrave. "You think maybe the Japs have sent out a carrier force to cut ahole in our air supply route, huh?"
"Could be," Dawson shrugged. "I wouldn't want to bet against it, anyway.And--well, skip it."
"No," the other said. "Go on and say the rest of it."
"Well, if I were flying this job," Dawson replied with a half grin, "Ithink that right now I'd give those four Wright Cyclones you've got achance to show what they can do. But, after all, I'm strictly a safetyfirst guy, Skipper."
"That makes two of us," Banks said quickly. "Anyway, my job is to getthese babies to Australia for other guys to use, so I'll just stick tomy knitting, I reckon. Okay, fellows, hang onto your hats. I'm going tocut that twenty minutes to fifteen, at least. And again, thanks for thatjob on those Zeros."
The Flying Fortress commander not only called the turn, but made good.Just ten minutes later the west coast of Australia was sighted. And fiveminutes after that the big four-engined job, being ferried out to theSouth Pacific to play its part in the war, was tooled down to an expertlanding on the Air Forces constructed field on the outskirts of the cityof Broome. Dave and Freddy gathered up their small and compact kit bagsand climbed out with the rest of the crew onto the ground. There theyintended to bid goodbye to the others, but before either one of themcould open his mouth a jeep streaked out from the hangar line and astaff major popped out of it like a pea out of a split pod.
"Captains Dawson and Farmer?" he barked, and looked hard at Dave.
"I'm Dawson, sir," Dave replied with a nod. "And this is CaptainFarmer."
"Very good!" the senior officer snapped. "Come along, then. Get into thecar quickly! Your plane is waiting. Maps and weather charts are in thepits. Come on; snap it up!"
A flash of resentment passed through Dawson. The major was a groundofficer. He wore no wings on his tunic, nor any decoration ribbons,either. As a matter of fact, he looked to Dave like one of those wellknown forty-eight-hour soldiers. In other words, a man who gets acommission while en route to Washington, and comes back wearing hisbrand-new tailor-made uniform.
"Something up, Major?" Dave asked quietly. "What's all the rush about?"
"What would you suppose?" the major came right back angrily. "Therehappens to be a war on. Also, lots of things to do. H.Q. has ordered foryou to report in a hurry, and that's what you're to do. Now, let's getgoing, you two!"
Dave knew that he was letting his anger get the better of him, but hecouldn't help himself. This staff major was t
he type of officer thatalways gave him a pain in the neck. He'd met up with more than oneduring his war career. Put an officer's insignia on their shoulderstraps and they went sky high with importance. And the higher the rankthey held, the higher went their belief in their own importance. Maybethat was okay around training camps or induction centers. But that sortof thing didn't go with shot and shell-seasoned veterans. So naturallyit didn't go with Dave.
"Just a minute, Major," he said. "I think first I should report theengagement."
"What's that?" the other gasped, rising to the bait. "Did you sayengagement?"
"That's right, Major," Dawson assured him. "Half a dozen Zeros attackedus about ninety miles off shore. We got them all, but they must havebeen carrier-based. I heard a report that there is a huge Jap attackforce heading for this coast. Of course, it may be only a rumor, but--"
"Heading for _here_?" the Major gulped, and his face tightened. "Are yousure?"
Dave shrugged and gestured with a hand.
"Well, I didn't actually see them, Major," he replied truthfully. "Butthe Japs have pulled a lot of fast ones in this war. You never can tell,you know."
"No, you never can, that's right," the other said, and glanced nervouslytoward the west. "Well, your plane is waiting. I'll run you over, andmake the report _myself_ to the commanding officer. A huge Jap attackforce, eh?"
Dawson didn't say anything. He simply nudged Freddy Farmer's arm, andthe pair stepped into the jeep. The major stalled the engine twicebefore he got the jeep going. And then he made a dash down along theedge of the field as though Jap troops were actually rushing up from theother side. He braked to a screaming halt in front of the field office,waved a hand at a waiting plane some fifty yards farther on, and thenleaped out and dashed inside.
"Good grief, the blighter is in a hurry, isn't he?" Freddy Farmerbreathed as they walked over toward the plane, a Wright-powered Vulteeattack bomber. "But why did you fill him with all that junk about a hugeJap attack force?"
"Well, you said you heard on good authority that there was one, didn'tyou?" Dawson chuckled. "And, I just don't like efficient stuffed shirtslike him. I like to see them get their whiskers burned. Anyway, I'mhoping that the C.O. of this field is the kind of a bird who'll do it.We'll know when Major Importance comes out. Well, anyway, we've got anice job to fly. And we should see quite a bit of this down-undercontinent by the time we hit Sydney."
"You take the scenery," Freddy Farmer grunted, and stowed his kit in theVultee's pit. "I'll take Sydney as fast as I can get it. Lord, Dave! Doyou suppose General MacArthur himself wants to see us?"
"Nope," Dawson replied instantly, and tossed his kit aboard. "If theorders had read for me to report _alone_, I'd say probably. But we areboth to report, so meeting the general is definitely out, if you getwhat I mean?"
Freddy Farmer glared and stuck out his tongue.
"Too bad you were wearing those wings at the wrong time!" he snapped."But pardon me, old thing, for stirring that brain of yours. You aren'twondering about the future any more, are you? Well, let's get on withit. Half a moment, though. As I recall, it's my turn to pilot. So getinto the gunner's seat, young man. Up with you!"
Dave shook his head, and grinned.
"Let me sky-steer her this time, as a favor, Freddy," he pleaded. Then,as he looked past Farmer toward the field office, he added quickly,"There isn't time to explain, but be a good guy and let me take her off.I'll remember you in my will, if you do."
The English youth started to shake his head, but something he saw inDawson's face suddenly caused him to change his mind. He let out aresigned sigh, and shrugged.
"Right you are, then," he grunted. "But I think I'm a fool to let you.You're up to something!"
"Me?" Dave murmured innocently, and strapped on his parachute pack."Perish the thought, sweetheart. I just like to pilot. Oh-oh! Somebodygot choked off plenty, but is trying not to show it!"
That somebody was the staff major. He came over to the plane veryflushed in the face, and with an ugly look in his eye.
"You reported that rumor to the commanding officer, sir?" Dave askedpolitely.
"I did!" the other snapped, and let it go at that. Then, suddenlypointing a stiff finger at Dawson, he barked, "And just what do you call_that_, Captain?"
Dave didn't catch the meaning of the question for a couple of seconds.He was enjoying the mental picture of this band box officer rushing intoa hard bitten C.O.'s office with a scare rumor that a huge Jap attackforce was _less_ than a hundred miles off the Australian coast. And ofhow he came out with his ears burning from the officer's words aboutwhat he could do with his crazy and utterly impossible tale! And thenDave realized that the Major was stabbing a finger at his bullet-smackedwings.
"Why, they're my pilot's wings, sir," he replied. "They met with alittle accident."
"And they certainly look it!" the Major rasped. "A fine thing to wear ona Government uniform! A lot of you young officers certainly need to betaught a bit more respect for your uniforms, and the insignia you wear.I'd advise you to obtain a new pair before you report to H.Q. inSydney. Now, go ahead and take off! You're late enough as it is! Getgoing!"
"Yes, sir, very good, sir," Dave said as meekly as he could, and climbedinto the pilot's pit with anger seething in his soul.
The engine had already been warmed up, and it was now just idling over.Strapping himself in, Dave looked back to get the nod from Freddy, andto snap a quick glance at the major. The senior officer was standing afew feet off the right wing tip in the perfect attitude of an old crankwaiting to make sure that a couple of trespassing kids got off theproperty. Turning front, Dave smothered a grin and released the wheelbrakes, and inched open the throttle enough to get the Vultee rollingforward. Then when the tail came abreast of the major, Dave opened upthe throttle wide and tapped the left wheel brake just enough to swingthe tail over to the right. Then he banged the throttle the rest of theway open and took off in a hurry. As he cleared the ground, he lookedback and hooted. The major was flat on his back in a cloud of dust, withhis feet straight up in the air. And his officer's cap was spinningalong the edge of the field like a runaway spare wheel.
"Oops, so sorry, Big Shot!" Dawson shouted. "Darned if I didn't forgetyou were there. Better go wash your neck. The Army must always lookclean and tidy, you know, Major. So long, chump!"
"And the Military Police will probably be waiting for you, old thing, atSydney!" Freddy Farmer sang out between spells of laughter. "There'ssuch a thing as radio, you know."
"And that'll be okay, too!" Dave chuckled. "They can bring me back here,so's I can do it all over again. Make cracks about my wings, huh? Toohad he wasn't a captain, or I wasn't a major, too. I think I would enjoyvery much pasting that make-believe in the nose. Well, here we go again.On again, off again--as usual!"