"Right you are," Freddy Farmer murmured. "Let's go over and see."
They hadn't taken more than a dozen steps apiece, however, before a headquarters orderly came running up to them.
"The Field Commandant wants you to report to his office at once, Captains," the orderly informed them. "It's over there at that corner of the field."
"I see it, and thanks," Dave answered for both of them. "On the way, now."
Inside the field office, they found Major Barber seated with Colonel Stickney, Commandant of the field. He smiled at them and pointed at a couple of empty chairs.
"Were you beginning to think I had forgotten about you two?" the Major asked. "Have a chair, and relax. Colonel Stickney, here, will give you your further orders."
The two youths seated themselves and looked respectfully at the Field Commandant. Colonel Stickney was the kind of a man who brushed formalities aside and got right down to brass tacks. Maybe that's one reason why he was one of the most able officers in the U. S. Army Air forces.
"You two are taking off at ten o'clock tonight," he said. "You're not going across with the ferry bombers or troop transports, however. I've got two Lockheed P-Thirty-Eights that are waiting to be delivered in England. You'll each take one of them. For the crossing extra gas tanks have been fitted. As you both probably know, we've been ferrying pursuits across, as well as bombers, for several weeks now. They fly without guns, or ammo, and have extra tanks fitted. You drop the extra tanks into the sea when you've used up their fuel. Naturally, you switch them in first so's to be carrying less weight on the last half of your trip."
The Colonel paused and stared down at his fingers for a moment or two.
"You saw those two Commando transports that just sat down?" he asked. Then, without waiting for an answer, "Well, those troops are being carried across in the ferry bomber flight that'll take off before you do. Your P-Thirty-Eights make faster time, of course, so the take-off times will be set so that you'll catch up with the flight of ferry bombers a hundred miles or so this side of Ireland. Obviously, it will be part of your job to escort them along the final lap to Land's End, England."