Allison and Stan dropped in behind, letting O’Malley have his prize. Stan called to Allison:
“Somebody ought to tip off the Ack-Ack boys or O’Malley may get a warm reception.”
“Let him show his stuff,” Allison drawled and Stan thought he heard the Flight Lieutenant chuckle.
The Messerschmitt ducked over the coast and down with O’Malley steering him expertly to the field. Bursts of gunfire began to blossom below and puffs of white smoke broke around the Jerry and his pursuer.
“They think O’Malley’s Spitfire is a captured plane with a Jerry in it,” Stan muttered.
O’Malley sent his catch down through the shellfire, twisting and turning. The Nazi pilot was an expert and wiggled through until they got close in, then the fire got so hot he and O’Malley had to hit for the ceiling. They circled and were high up when Stan and Allison slid down the field.
Undaunted, O’Malley came in again and this time he sent his prize through the rain of exploding shells. The Messerschmitt rolled to a stop with O’Malley close behind him. In a moment the flustered Jerry was climbing out of his shattered hatch with his hands elevated above his head.
Ground men closed in around him, shouting and doing a war dance. O’Malley climbed out after removing part of the hatch cover from around his neck. He strode to the Messerschmitt and bellowed at the ground men.
“Git ye a hump on yerselves an’ pull out that fore gun!”
Four mechanics raced away to get tools while O’Malley stood guard over his prize. He refused to let anyone touch the ship. A senior ground officer came hurrying up and O’Malley gave him a sloppy salute. The officer snapped: