Dave Dawson on Guadalcanal

by Robert Sidney Bowen

For one brief instant nothing seemed to happen. Then suddenly the huge Kawanishi appeared to stand still in the air. Stand still and spew out jetting ribbons of red flame from a dozen different points from the nose of the hull clear back to the tail. The jetting ribbons of flame marked the efforts of the Jap gunners aboard to get the diving Dauntless in their sights. However, they might just as well have tried to pick off a haywire comet rushing down at them.

And then, as the flying boat seemed to come to a dead halt in the air, the efforts of the Jap gunners came to a swift and abrupt halt. A tiny tongue of flame shot up from the forward end. Then as though by magic it spread out fan-shaped and went sweeping backward to engulf everything in a raging inferno of flame. Eyes popping, and heart practically standing still, Dawson stared in awe at the horrible sight. And then in the nick of time he snapped out of his trance, and hauled the plunging Dauntless off to the side and into the clear.

"About time, little man!" he heard Freddy Farmer shout. "I thought you were going to run into the beggar, and tell him you were sorry. But you know you're very hoggish, don't you. A very greedy beggar, if there ever was one."

Dawson didn't make any reply at once. He brought the Dauntless back onto even keel, and then turned in the seat to look back at the Kawanishi. That is, he turned in the seat to look back at what was left of the huge flying boat. And that was just a great ball of flame and smoke that hovered in midair for a moment or two before it started dropping earthward trailing behind a long column of fluffy black. Dave followed it all the way down until it smacked into the Southwest Pacific with a mighty splash.

"What was that you were babbling about, pal?" he then demanded of his flying mate.

"I was remarking that you are a rotter!" Freddy Farmer snapped. "Very definitely so. And twice as greedy, too. What do you think I'm back here for, with guns of my own, eh?"

"I sure could answer that one, but skip it, pal!" Dave laughed at him. "But it was just one of those things, Freddy, so help me. I must have nailed the pilot and one of the tanks first burst. Boy! Did he burn up and go down quick! Talk about shooting clay pigeons! That was certainly the cinchiest thing I ever tackled. I—Holy smoke! Hold it a moment, Freddy! I should be reporting to the carrier."

Forgetting Freddy Farmer for the moment, Dave concentrated on raising the carrier on the radio, and made his report. His report was acknowledged, and he was given orders to return to the surface vessel at once. The orders had been short and sweet, and Dave broke off contact with a faint frown.

"Now what, I wonder?" he grunted absently. "They didn't seem to be very pleased about it. What did they expect, anyway?"

"Good grief, what did you expect?" Freddy Farmer snapped at him. "A citation for a medal while you're still in the air? Use your head, old thing. The carrier task force commander is pleased right enough, I fancy. But undoubtedly quite worried, too. He wants us back in a hurry for questioning."