Dave Dawson on Guadalcanal

by Robert Sidney Bowen

Soon, now, night would come with a rush as it always did in that part of the world. Soon darkness would be all about the MK-11, and he and Freddy Farmer could lose those trailing Zeros. Soon—

But at that exact moment he heard Freddy's wild cry of alarm and felt the English youth's fist thump down on his shoulder.

"Here they come, Dave!" Freddy cried. "Here come the blighters, blast them!"

Dawson instantly twisted around in the seat, and just as quickly cold fear clutched at his heart. It was true enough. The three Zeros had suddenly speeded up. But, more than that, they were coming down in a dive straight for the MK-11. One look at the way those Zeros were piling down and Dawson knew that one of two guesses was true. And possibly both. The Zero pilots had decided that the two youths planned to shake them off in the darkness, after leading them astray. Or else they figured that the American carrier force was due south, and that they could finish off their "unsuspecting victims" and use the rest of the gas in their tanks to get back to their own carrier. It was one or the other, and maybe both. But down they came, anyway, and a spell of cold, helpless fear was Dawson's.

"Get set with your rear guns, Freddy!" he called out sharply. "I should have figured this. Those rats are tired of playing around, and I've got a hunch they're going to do something about it. Something not so good for us."

"I think so, too!" the English youth called back. "But let them try it, blast them. Frankly, I'm blessed well fed up with being tagged around. So let the blighters come. We'll fight them, if we have to. Jolly well right, we'll fight them!"

The words that poured from Freddy Farmer's lips were better than a tonic to Dawson. The cold fear left him at once, and instead he was filled with a fierce determination. Right! Let those Zeros pile down and get tough. He, too, was fed up with being pushed and shoved and tagged around. Doggone it, it seemed years since he had let fly with any bullets at the Japs. The last time had been as that Air Transport Command plane was approaching the Australian coast from India. Heck, yes! Since then they hadn't done a darn thing for their country. On the contrary, they'd been shot up, shot down, and kicked around by the Japs. So okay. If it was to be a scrap, then that would be fine, and nuts to the odds against them!

With a silent savage nod for emphasis, Dawson twisted around and squinted at the Jap Zeros for the umpty-umpth time. They were down almost on a level with the MK-11, and while two of them remained in wingtip to wingtip formation, the third Zero speeded up and came up abreast of the MK-11. Dawson stared at it narrow-eyed, ready to out-maneuver the Jap if he tried any smart stuff. And it was then he saw the helmeted figure in the pit put his radio mike to his lips, and motion with his free hand to Dawson to switch on his receiving set. For a couple of split seconds the Yank air ace stared in amazement. Then he snapped out of his trance and impulsively knocked up the switch of his receiving set in the front pit, and pulled the earphones down over his head.

For a brief instant or two he heard nothing but the hum of the set warming up, and a little blast of static. And then he almost jumped out of the pit with surprise as he clearly heard the voice of the huge Jap who had been their "escort" back on the enemy carrier.

"Turn around and come with us, please!" came the astonishing demand. "Turn around at once, and return with us, please, or we will shoot you down into the water. I am warning you. You cannot escape. Turn around, and come back with us at once, please!"