It was a precaution not necessary, however. The Yank born R.A.F. ace put the Mark 5 Spitfire down slick as pie and then taxied slowly up to the hangar line. There waiting mechanics lifted down the dead man from his position across the opened cockpit, and placed him gently on the ground. Dave leaped out to confront the dumbfounded gaze of his fellow pilots and Squadron Leader Markham.
"What's this all about, Dawson?" the O.C. was the first to break the silence.
Dave told his story in as few words as possible. Then everybody stretched his neck to read the sheet of paper.
"Von Peiplow, eh?" Squadron Leader Markham grunted as he straightened up. "Well, isn't that something!"
"You've heard of von Peiplow, sir?" Dave asked quickly. "Farmer, here, thought the name sounded familiar to him. You know him, sir?"
The Squadron Leader smiled, but it was a tight smile, and his eyes had turned cold and hard.
"I've never met the dirty dog in person," he said. "But I know of him, very much. And so do some three hundred and eighty-four thousand members of the British Expeditionary Force that got away alive from Dunkirk. You two weren't in Service then, though the world knows you did a splendid job for England at the time. But it was General Paul von Peiplow who was in charge of Luftwaffe operations during the Dunkirk show. Yes, von Peiplow is a very familiar name to most all of us who were there."[1]
Markham paused and stared hard at the dead man as though he hoped to see right into the forever stilled brain and read the man's dying thoughts. Then suddenly he bent down, squinted hard at the bullet hole in the forehead, and lifted one of the man's arms, and let it drop back on the ground. Presently he straightened up and looked at Dave.
"Could be the cold air at altitude, and not genuine rigor mortis," he grunted as though to himself. "You're sure he was just tossed out, Dawson? Or do you think he was shot as he tried to go out on his own?"
"He must have been tossed out, sir," Dave answered quickly. "The pilot dipped the wing so that the gunner would have less trouble getting him out the cockpit hatch opening, and not have the prop-wash carry him back into the tail assembly. That's the way it looked to me. Of course, everything happened pretty fast, but I'm sure he wasn't alive when he bailed out, sir."