“Sure, an’ I’m thinkin’ the Jerries were plenty mad,” O’Malley said grimly.
“The thing to do is to check with bomber operations and locate the spots where they run into the most fighters. Then scout those areas with low-level flights. When we locate a set of runways near a hill, we’ll check. After the data is in we’ll try Lieutenant Wilson’s skip-bombing tactics. But we want to make a clean-up, for once we let them know how we do it they’ll rig up a defense.” The general rose to his feet. “I’ll let you know, Colonel, what plans my office makes.”
“You have pictures of the hangars?” the major asked eagerly.
“I’m afraid I forgot all about your cameras when I came in over the runway,” Stan replied. “I was really looking for Sim and O’Malley.”
“You fighter pilots always forget the cameras,” the major said sourly. “Well, we’ll check what you did get.”
“’Tis about time to be eatin’,” O’Malley put in anxiously.
“In that case, Colonel, we’ll run along,” Stan said with a grin.
Colonel Holt looked at O’Malley sternly. “Food is a secondary matter right now, but you may go.”
“Thank you, sor,” O’Malley said. “It’s very important to me.”
The colonel looked at O’Malley’s lank and bony frame and smiled. He turned back to his desk, and Stan and O’Malley hurried away.