The sudden flare of excitement was followed by an equally sudden lull except for the sound of soldiers’ voices across the fields. The flack guns lapsed into silence.
Captain Dobie said, “Whew! Next time, André, you go down to the cellar. I forgot all about you for a minute.”
Slim and a detail of men were sent off to look for the fallen Nazi plane, and also for the pilot.
“Better send out word to the French people around here to be on the lookout,” Dobie added, “till we’re sure about him.”
When Slim and the men had been gone only a few minutes, Weller began to fidget restlessly.
“How about I just take a look-see down the road, Captain?” he suggested.
Captain Dobie said okay, and Weller swept up a Tommy gun and went off into the night.
He had gone only a few yards when André caught up with him.
In a field, the last flames were flickering from the fallen Messerschmitt. A faint drizzle blurred the scene, but the figures of many soldiers were dimly silhouetted against the light.
“No good goin’ over there,” Weller said, after studying the scene a moment.