“You will get all the help you can use,” the commander promised.
Stan got Wing Commander Farrell on the wire and talked to him. He did not report the brush with the Heinkel, though he would have to mention it in his written report. And he did not mention Arch Garret. When he asked that Allison and O’Malley be sent up at once, the O.C. hesitated.
“We have been having poor luck keeping the bombers out,” he said. “I’ll have to replace you three and add six more Spitfires, if I can get them.”
“I need them at once. The sooner you get them up here, the sooner we’ll be back to help you.”
“I have an old Defiant they can both pile into,” the O.C. finally said. “I’ll get them off tomorrow before daylight.”
Stan waited a few minutes, then put in a call for Allison. Presently the Britisher’s drawl came in over the wire clearly:
“What’s the matter, Yank, grounded in some cow pasture?”
“I landed in one but didn’t like it,” Stan said with a laugh. “I’m calling from the navy base.”
“What’s up?”
“Just this. I’m sending for you fellows and you will get orders to leave just before daylight. Look out for clouds. Fly that old Defiant low and watch for Heinkels. And tonight, if there’s a raid, just you duck in the opposite direction from the way the Squadron Leader orders. I’ll spin you a yarn when you get up here. Keep mum but pass the word to the boys to follow you if there’s a raid.”