"I guess she's just an out and out lame duck," he said as he gave the aircraft a reproachful look. "We've put in more time on her than all the other ships put together. Just a dud, that's all. One of those misfits that come along every so often. Okay. Thanks, Captain, for testing her out. But until we get a replacement plane, sir, I'm afraid you won't have anything to fly. We haven't got a single spare at the field."
"Well, that's war for you," Dawson said with a faint grin. "But not a very good beginning for me. I've been with Two Hundred and Five for just three days, and now I haven't got anything to fly. Maybe I'm my own jinx."
The technical sergeant looked at the decoration ribbons under Dawson's pilot's wings, and chuckled softly.
"Oh, I wouldn't say that, Captain," he said. "Those ribbons sort of indicate you've done more than your share."
"Wrong, Sergeant," Dawson said grimly, and stared at the cloud-filled skies to the east. "Nobody can do more than his share in this mess. It's—Oh well, let's skip it. Sorry I couldn't tell you that she's a honey, Sergeant. But she isn't. She's got the misery in lots of places."
With a nod and a smile the Yank air ace turned and started walking over toward pilots' mess. His throat was dry, and he wanted a coke. After he'd had one he'd go to see Major Starke, the C.O., about getting a replacement plane. He was about halfway there when suddenly he became conscious of the fact that everybody about the field was staring at a lone Lightning circling about three or four hundred feet overhead. He took a look himself, and instantly felt very sorry for the pilot in that plane. Two of his wheels were down, but the other was still up in its recess. It was the starboard nacelle wheel that was obviously stuck, and as the plane circled slowly about Dave could see the pilot struggling desperately to get his third wheel down. But he wasn't even beginning to meet with any success. His starboard nacelle wheel was up in its recess to stay.
"Now there's a sweet thing!" he heard a voice in back of him say. "He can't get his third wheel down, and he can't get the other two back up so he can come in on his belly. Tough luck for the guy."
Dawson turned to see one of the ground officers from Operations standing just behind him. The man was staring at the plane, and absently speaking his thoughts aloud.
"Who is it up there?" Dave asked.
"A captain by the name of Farmer," the other said without taking his eyes off the circling plane. "He just joined us a couple of days ago. A heck of a thing for him to bump into on his first test hop, I'll say."