“We got the troopship ourselves,” March said. “The carrier was on fire and listing badly when the planes came and finished her off. Not a plane got off her. Of the rest, thirty-eight ships are at the bottom of the sea. Not one ship reached Truk!”
Larry looked at March silently and then a slow smile spread over his face. “Skipper,” he said, “you did a swell job.”
That was all the commendation March wanted or needed, though he wasn’t dismayed later when he got the Navy Cross and his promotion to full lieutenant.
As for Scoot Bailey, he was flown to Australia to get over his broken arm before resuming his flying from Bunker Hill. The same award and promotion had come to him for his part in breaking up the Jap convoy, and he was very happy. But his last words to March were on the old argument between them.
“I won’t say another word against pigboats,” he said. “But I still want to get back to a plane. As I said once before, they make a great team, don’t they?”
WHITMAN
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