A Yankee Flier in Italy Part 4

"Right fine of you, old man," Allison chimed in.

"Glad to give you a hand," Thomas said as he turned to the job of unloading.

Stan and Allison shoved through the crowds along the docks. They were eager to get in touch with Colonel Benson and get back on the job.

Everywhere they could see signs of the coming invasion attempt.

Thousands of s.h.i.+ps and barges and warcraft lay in the harbor or offsh.o.r.e. Men swarmed everywhere, while tanks and trucks and mobile guns rattled down to the water front.

The boys caught a ride with an air force truck headed toward their field. The truck took them to within a few blocks of headquarters. When they hopped out, Stan said:

"Here goes nothing. Wonder what the Old Man will say?"

"We'll be lucky to be able to see him at all. He'll be very busy,"

Allison drawled.

Reaching headquarters they spoke to an orderly. The soldier regarded them closely.

"Yes, Colonel Benson is in his office."

"Tell him Lieutenants Wilson and Allison wish to see him." Stan gave the soldier a look that made him snap to attention.

"I'll report, sir," he said and made off.

"He acted as though we were not welcome," Allison remarked.

"The Old Man probably told him to shoo all pilots away," Stan said. "Now we better make our story good."

The orderly returned and nodded toward the fliers. "Colonel Benson will see you, sir," he said to Stan.

They moved into the room and found Colonel Benson sitting behind his desk. He had a pot of coffee, a bowl of soup, and a plate of sandwiches before him. His green eyes lifted and swept over the two officers. They saluted and Stan said:

"Lieutenants Wilson and Allison reporting for duty, sir."

The colonel dipped up a spoon of soup and ate it. He selected a sandwich, lifted the lid and looked at the filling, then took a bite.

"I believe you gentlemen are under orders to report to Alexandria. I take it you have made some changes on your own account." The colonel paused and waited for a reply. His face was expressionless, but his eyes bored into Stan and Allison.

"We hoped you would allow us to join Lieutenant O'Malley's command. We got the idea there might be action on this front soon." Stan stood very straight and looked the colonel in the eye.

"What gave you the idea there would be action?" the colonel asked.

"We got it quite by accident," Stan answered.

"I see. So you canceled the orders of the area commander and returned.

Who brought you back?"

"The Navy, sir." Allison smiled as he said it.

The colonel grunted. He finished his sandwich and helped himself to more soup. Finally he spoke.

"There will be action very soon and we do need pilots," he said blandly.

His eyes dropped to a pad of reports. They were urgent requests from Wilks and Liske asking to be transferred from O'Malley's ferry flight.

"I have two places I find very difficult to fill, and they happen to be in Commander O'Malley's flight. I'll a.s.sign you men to those places."

His eyes lifted and there was a glint of hardness in them. "For the duration of the present action," he added grimly.

"Thank you, sir," Stan said. "We will not take up more of your time."

"One more thing," the colonel said. "I will cancel your leave to Alexandria. But your new a.s.signment will not free you from any measures I decide to take later as punishment for your breach of orders. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir," both officers answered. They saluted and about-faced.

Outside the door Stan turned to Allison. "The Old Boy isn't such a tough cookie after all."

"Don't be so sure about that. You know I had a hunch he was spoofing us all the time." Allison scowled. "I'm sure he was."

"You smelled a mouse?" Stan grinned.

"I smelled a very dead one," Allison answered. "Let's locate O'Malley.

He should be over in the quarters reserved for flight commanders."

They barged into the quarters of the flight officers and looked around.

O'Malley was not present but several men sat at a table playing chess.

They moved over and stood beside the table.

"We're looking for Commander O'Malley," Stan said.

One of the boys looked up. He was wearing new and s.h.i.+ny insignia of a major. He grinned up at Stan and Allison, his eyes taking in their service stripes.

"I guess you mean Flight Leader O'Malley," he said. "You should be able to find him over at Mess Three."

"So, he's already gotten himself s.h.i.+fted to flight leader," Stan said, matching the major's grin. "How'd he manage it?"

"By eating a pie while Colonel Benson was delivering a lecture on how to capture Italy," the major chuckled.

"So he's back on the firing line. I say, that's just where he wanted to be," Allison said.

"No, he didn't rate that well," the major explained. "The Old Man chucked him into a job of ferrying planes to Malta so we'd have some reserves in close to Sicily. Less than an hour ago O'Malley told me it was a quiet and peaceful job, but one he didn't like."

Stan looked at Allison. "You were right, there was a mouse, a big, dead one." He nodded to the major. "Thanks, Major," he said.

They turned away and walked out of the room. Allison laid a hand on Stan's arm as they turned toward the door of Mess Three.

"Suppose we surprise O'Malley," he suggested.

"He'll be in no mood for surprises," Stan answered. "He'll be a wild man. With the whole Army and Navy getting set to force a beach-head and him on ferry duty, he'll be red-hot."

"We are to fill in on his flight. We might work it so that he wouldn't know until we take off. We could be a bit late in showing up." There was a twinkle in Allison's eyes.

Stan began to grin. "I like the idea," he said. "We're stuck the same as he is and might as well cheer him up."