The Major held the photo up and pointed out the spire of a church that was faintly visible in the background. Part of it was missing as the result of an exploding shell.
"That's the church in the little village of Evaux," he said, "across the Seine River from Rouen. I recognize it, because I've been there many times since that shell struck. Matter of fact, I happened to see that shell do its work. It was a week before Dunkirk. No, don't worry. That picture was taken in Occupied France. And those buildings in back of them, but on this side of the church, are their combined Headquarters."
The Major nodded slightly for emphasis, and dropped the photo on the desk.
"A force of fifteen thousand men," he said a moment later. "Navy men, army men, and airmen. The time schedule has been worked out to the last split second. And the schedule has been checked and rechecked, I might add. At the first show of darkness tomorrow evening, navy vessels will take aboard the ground forces, at designated points along the south coast here. At the right moment the ships will put out into the Channel and proceed toward the French coast. At a designated time bomber flights will go over and blast all strong points for a thirty-five mile radius about the French coastal city of Le Havre. Le Havre will be the pivoting point of the entire raid. All operations will fan out north, south, and east from Le Havre.
"Fighter squadrons, of course, will go across to keep a protective cover over the bombers against Nazi night fighters—if any are able to get off and come up at them. Fighter squadrons will also protect transport planes filled with Commando Para-troops. Needless to say, each unit in the attack has its own time schedule, that dovetails in with the general schedule for the raid. And each unit, whether land, sea, or air, has its own individual objective to take and hold, or, as in many cases, to take and completely destroy. Clockwork is the keynote to the whole thing. Every man knows just what he is supposed to do, and what he's supposed not to do, incidentally. There will be losses, heavy losses, probably. But our losses will be nothing to what the Nazis will lose in man power, war materials—and morale!"
The Major paused for breath, and to think over his next words. It was all Dave could do to stop from squirming about on the edge of his chair. A hundred questions quivered on the tip of his tongue. But he had just enough sense to remain silent and bide his time. Soon enough the Major would tell Freddy and him what fighter flight they were to fly in. As a matter of fact, that bit of information was the next thing that came from the Yank Commando Chief's lips.
"You will go over with the squadron with which you are now stationed," he said. "The Two Hundred and Third Fighters, with Squadron Leader Parkinson in charge. That unit will go over as part of the cover for the Commando Para-troops. Parkinson will be supplied with his own time schedule, and will, of course, acquaint you with all those details later. Well, there you are. That's the general picture of the little surprise we'll have for Adolf Hitler tomorrow night. And if it comes off as we have planned, and as it must come off, this world will be a much better place to live in much sooner than most people expect. The Nazi high lords, in particular!"
As Major Barber seemed to pause for the last time, and leaned back in his chair, Dave was thrilling to the thought of so gigantic a raid, and such a devastating blow against the barbaric forces striving to conquer the civilized world. At the same time there was a certain feeling of frustration within him, a feeling of keen disappointment. It was as though he had been built up for a terrific let-down. He sneaked a glance at Freddy's face and could instantly tell from the expression he saw there that Freddy was not exactly one hundred per cent pleased himself. Dave hesitated a moment, and then took the bull by the horns.
"It should be something, and how, sir!" he said enthusiastically. "But back in New York, you mentioned something about a little extra job for Freddy and me. You still have one?"
Major Barber grinned and leaned forward again.