Dave Dawson with the Flying Tigers

by Robert Sidney Bowen

And then when there came a lull in the shooting, and the only sound was that of the Zero's engines pounding the planes upward for altitude, Dawson gave the English youth a push and nodded toward the compartment door.

"Wiggle out of here fast!" he shouted. "Then snake across to that jungle growth. Do it fast, kid, before they come down. I'll join you right after their next attack. Snap it up!"

Another and a harder shove closed Freddy's mouth, which was half opened to ask questions. He quickly nodded and went out through the compartment door like a shell from the mouth of a gun. Still hugging the compartment floor, Dave watched his pal streak across the bit of open ground and practically dive head first into the thick border of jungle growth. At that instant Dawson was almost tempted to follow Farmer. But at that instant, also, he heard the change in the sound of the Jap aircraft engines aloft. A sound that told him the Zeros had gained their altitude, and were wheeling over and down for a second strafe on the helpless American bomber.

"Stick around some more, please, Lady Luck!" he breathed, and practically pushed his face through the floorboards.

For the next few seconds the full wrath of war snapped, and barked, and howled, and screamed all about him. But once again Lady Luck, or somebody, guided every one of the Jap bullets and air cannon shells clear of Dawson's body. And then once again he heard the pounding howl of the Zeros power-zooming upward. And in that instant he became a whirlwind of action. He shot his body toward the door opening, and at the same time flung out one hand and grabbed up a Very-Light pistol and fired the flare back over his shoulder. He heard the hiss and sputter as he went out through the door and down into the tall grass. And it seemed he had no more than regained his feet and was plunging for the jungle growth when a part of the world in back of him exploded in a roar of sound.

Hardly realizing what he was doing, he jerked his head around and took a flash glance back over his shoulder. The nose of the B-Twenty-Five was spouting livid red flame and smoke high into the air. The back of the aircraft had broken and buckled right at the gun turret, so that the whole thing looked like some weird prehistoric bird of gigantic size flopped down on the ground in mortal agony. One quick look at that heap of aero-nautical destruction, and then Dawson turned his head front, gasped out a sob of pity and sorrow, and plunged head first into the shelter of the jungle growth just as the three Jap Zeros wheeled off their zoom and started down again.

"Good gosh, Dave!" Freddy Farmer was panting in his ear. "Did they hit the gas fume-filled tanks that last time? I almost passed out in fear that you were a goner."

"Not those rotten Jap shots!" Dawson gasped, and rolled off his stomach. "I smacked a Very-Light flare at one of the split fuel feed lines. Just enough gas in the line to start a blaze. Hope it'll call them off, the bums!"

"Fired the plane?" Freddy Farmer echoed with a frown. "But why? The thing's a total wreck. The Japs could never make any use of it, Dave!"

"And how they can't!" Dawson grated, and stared sad-eyed at the blazing heap of wreckage. "That wasn't the idea, though. There must be Jap troops close to here. They'll be coming on the run. It won't hurt any for them to think that we burned up inside. See what I mean?"