No familiar faces greeted Rosy O’Grady’s crew at the Mau River airport. A new bomber command was based there. Three more forts, Barry learned, were due to join it within the week. Until they arrived there would be no mass raids on enemy targets.
Rosy’s first job was a reconnaissance flight to the northwest. There had been signs of enemy concentration among the islands west of Point D’Urville. Headquarters wanted to learn what it meant.
Rosy O’Grady took off with the first faint dawn light. Her bomb racks were full. In addition, she carried a few score of four-pound incendiary bombs. She was “loaded for bear,” and eager for a fight.
At 10,000 feet, Barry Blake turned westward. As they flew along the coast, the gunners in the top and tail turrets watched the sky for Jap planes. The pilots and the bombardier scanned air and sea ahead. Suddenly Chick Enders leaned forward on his perch in the nose, with a shout of discovery.
“What do you see now, bombardier?” Barry asked. “Some more grass skirts?”
Chick Enders ignored the gibe.
“Look at that little island, just offshore,” he said sharply. “There’s a white streak stretching north from it, like the wake of a ship.”
“It is, at that!” cried Hap Newton. “A boat of some kind must have put into a hidden cove there.”
“That island isn’t big enough to shelter any vessel that could make such a wide wake,” Barry Blake declared. “Could the island itself be moving, Chick?”
“It is!” the Rosy’s bombardier yelped. “The thing is a Jap vessel camouflaged with palm fronds. Give me a run on it, Skipper ... now!”