Savagely, Stan rolled and twisted seeking another target. O’Malley had gotten into the formation first and he was taking it apart with a display of aerial gymnastics that made the Jerries forget anything but escape. Allison was cutting away far to the left and the carefully planned blitz was already a fearful rout, with death as the lot of most of the killers. Scattered, they zoomed and dived, seeking only to escape. As they went twisting out of their formations, low over the city, the cables of death claimed many victims.
Then the Spitfires of Moon Flight came roaring in from a wild chase to the east and the rout was complete. Within a few minutes the astonished gunners and the men at the lights below began to realize that somehow what had seemed certain to be a terrible luftwaffe had been turned into a victory. The Ack-Ack boys laid off. Then Moon Flight plus Red Flight bored upward to see how many Messerschmitts Herr Goering had sent along as fighter planes. The ME’s came cascading downward, eager to see their charges safely home. There was a flight of forty and another of fifty. They were met by three streaking silver planes that carried no dull paint and looked like commercial craft out for a spree. The three had out-climbed the Spitfires.
Stan swerved to the right to give O’Malley room. He had outflown the Irishman and was grinning. O’Malley still had a few things to learn about a Hawk before he could get everything out of his big engine. He slashed into the formation with guns raking the descending ships. Past them he flashed and bored on into the darkness. When he got back into position again, the Spitfires had arrived and the Messerschmitts were scattering and ducking into the night.
“Calling the Hawks. Calling the Hawks,” Stan called.
“Sure, an’ it was a poor show,” O’Malley’s voice came in. “This colleen has the need of two big eyes to see where the spalpeens go when they run away.”
“This will be nice news for the Nazis to broadcast,” Allison called.
“Moon Flight, come in. Moon Flight, come in. Enemy dispersed.” The call was from the field below.
Then Garret’s voice broke in. “Squadron Leader of Moon Flight reporting. Enemy dispersed with many casualties. Two of our fighters left formation.”
“Bah,” Stan heard O’Malley growl.
They went down with the Spitfires and rolled into the floodlights. The O.C. was there and very much excited. Before Stan could reach the door of the briefing room Farrell had him.