"No, it wouldn't help a bit, Freddy," Dave said with a firm shake of his head. "We've both talked ourselves blue in the face as to just exactly what each is going to do, or hopes to do. If we haven't got it in the old brain by now, going over it once more won't make any difference at all."
"No, I guess you're right, it won't," Freddy Farmer murmured. "However, in case I haven't mentioned it, old thing, happy landings, and all that kind of rot. I'm quite sure that I'll be frightfully busy, but I'll do my best to look out for you."
"Now I call that right nice of you, neighbor!" Dawson chuckled, and put an arm about Freddy's shoulders and squeezed. "And the same goes for me to you, kid. And double. But we've gone through some tight spots together, and I've got a hunch that we'll get through any tight spots this time, too. And with flying colors."
"If only you hadn't used that blasted word, hunch!" Freddy Farmer groaned. However, the grin on his face belied the tone of his voice.
A moment later signal lights began to flash from the Operation tower, and one by one the big bombers were trundled down to the far end of the runway. The first swung around into position, the pilot received the green light, and the mighty aircraft moved forward, picking up more and more speed until it was hurtling along the flare-marked runway. Hardly had it cleared and began nosing up into the night sky than the pilot of the next bomber in line opened up his throttles. One by one the powerful ships took to the air until only the fighters were left.
A signal blinked for all pilots to get into their pits. Dave reached out and gripped Freddy's arm.
"Be seeing you, kid, at Duisburg," he said. "And have a nice ride. But don't star gaze too much."
"I won't, Dave," young Farmer replied, and pressed Dawson's arm in return. "And you watch out for yourself, too, old thing. A very queer chap at times, you know, but I'm really quite fond of you."
"And I guess you'd do in a crowd, too, little man," Dave said with a gentle gruffness in his voice.
And that was that. The two air aces parted company, and each climbed into his plane. Some seven minutes later Dawson rocketed his Mustang across the field, cleared, and went power climbing up toward the star-hidden heavens. At a certain altitude he leveled off, and then circled slowly until he found, and was in, his formation position. His was the tail cover plane, so a moment later the formation swung eastward and out over the English Channel.