Saufley turned around and looked.
“What the hell?” he cried.
Dorman cupped his hands.
“Gimme a hand! I’m going up!”
Saufley turned his eyes upward. One of the Fokkers had been scared away by Archie fire. It was breaking all around him and he had turned and was thundering back. But the other was coming through a literal wall of steel. Saufley ran back over to the hangar.
Dorman grabbed him. He was excited.
“Roll out eight-one-nine! Load up those guns!”
“Lissen, Lieutenant,” Saufley said. “You better—”
“Beat it!” Dorman said. He slanted his head upward and saw the Boche strafing the road that led to Toul. The enemy was having a great time. Dorman raced over to the cubicle and dashed inside. He grabbed his helmet and his flying coat and was putting them on as he came out. Lufbery was at the side of the house, staring interestedly at the proceedings.
“Where the hell you think you’re going?” he yelled.