The English-born air ace didn't have to wonder long. The last word had hardly left his lips when the inter-ship speaker (nick-named Donald Duck) barked forth with orders.
"All pilots report to the flight deck at once! All pilots report to the flight deck at once!"
"That's us!" Dawson grunted, and made a pass or two at his tunic to straighten out a few of the wrinkles that actually weren't there. "Hit the deck, Freddy! Top side with you, sailor!"
"Don't!" the English youth groaned, and took a quick glance at his reflection in the small wall mirror. "You talk bad enough as an Army man."
"Every day it comes more compliments!" Dawson mocked, and led the way through the cabin door.
Some twenty or so seconds later they were up on the flight deck and with the members of the group gathered just under the signal bridge. Up there they saw a lot of Navy gold, but it was Colonel Welsh who spoke to them.
"You gentlemen have come aboard this carrier to take part in a difficult and hazardous operation against the enemy forces in the Southwest Pacific," he began. "The details of the operation will be explained to you in full, later. Right now, though, I want to impress upon you that you are all guests of the officers and crew of this carrier, and as such will refrain from thoughtlessly interfering with the general routine of the ship's company."
The colonel paused and grinned.
"I'm including myself in these instructions," he said, "because, frankly, this is my first visit aboard a carrier at sea. And I, too, am mighty curious to see what makes one of these flat-tops tick. However, this is no time for sight-seeing, so I am asking you gentlemen to confine your movements to the officers' quarters, and the flight deck. Well, I guess that's all—except for one thing. All of you are to report to the Ready-Room, on the hangar deck, at five o'clock this afternoon. And—But there I make my first boner!"
The colonel stopped and grinned apologetically at the Admiral in command of the task force. Then he turned back to the pilots.