[CHAPTER TEN]
Wings Westward
The sun was a solid red ball of flame balanced perfectly on the western lip of the world, as the Army Air Forces Flying Fortress eased down to a perfect landing at Hickam Field, on the island of Oahu, in the Hawaiians. On the way down, both Dawson and Freddy Farmer took a good look at Pearl Harbor, where on December Seventh of the year before treacherous Jap wings had left their mark of death and destruction. By now, however, practically every visual reminder of that terrible day had disappeared. Sunken and half sunken ships were once again on the surface, or in dry dock, receiving last-minute repairs before steaming out to join the Pacific Fleet and pay back ten times over what they had suffered. And the shambles that had been made of Hickam Field that day was also just a blood-boiling memory. New shops, new hangars, new barracks, and so forth, had sprung up like mushrooms almost overnight. In fact, even to Dawson and Farmer, who had seen that airfield at its worst, it seemed well nigh incredible that it was actually one and the same place. And it was Freddy Farmer who made the first comment.
"Our navigator didn't get us off course, did he, by any chance?" he grunted at Dave, with a gesture of his hand earthward. "I mean, that really is Hickam Field down there, isn't it?"
"It is," Dave grinned back at him. "And some miracle, too, hey, pal? Boy! When they roll up their sleeves around here and get to work, they sure get to work. Last time we saw it a fly couldn't have landed without running into a bomb crater, or a section of blasted hangar, or something. Yup! The Navy and Army boys have sure done a wonderful job here at Oahu. And how!"
"Quite!" the English-born air ace echoed the compliment, and unconsciously braced himself as the Flying Fortress touched ground and trundled forward to a full stop.
A few moments later it had taxied up to in front of the Administration Building, and one of the crew had opened the fuselage door. Dawson winked at Freddy, and grinned.
"Well, so far so good, kid," he said, and pushed up out of his seat. "Just another eight or nine thousand miles, and we'll be there."
"Hardly worth thinking about, what?" Freddy groaned. "Gosh, but the Pacific is a big ocean."
"Yeah, and we've been looking at only the top of it!" Dave chuckled. "Anyway, there's one thing we can be thankful for. We didn't have to make any War Bond speeches in Frisco. Major General Hawks was a good guy, and got us out of there fast."
"And if we can get away from here just as fast, it'll suit me fine!" Freddy Farmer grunted. "Not that I don't like flying, you understand. But being a blasted passenger really isn't much fun."