“It’s like a calm before a terrible storm,” Nancy said to Sally. Soon enough they were to learn what an actual storm could mean to a convoy at sea. For the present, however, there was quite enough to occupy their minds.
Once, when Sally climbed the ladder to the flight deck for a breath of air, she chanced to bump into Danny Duke.
“Oh, Danny!” she exclaimed. “Must you go out?” He was garbed in flying togs. A parachute hung at his back.
“Sure!” He laughed. “What do you think I trained for? A game of volleyball?”
She didn’t think. She just didn’t want anyone she liked as well as Danny to be out there fighting subs, dodging antiaircraft fire and watching the black sea that waited to swallow him up.
At last, as dawn approached and a young officer came to take her place, Sally closed up her black box, removed the wires and marched away to store it under her berth.
“Stay there a while,” she whispered, “until we know whether you mean honor or disaster for me.”
It was with a sober face that she returned to the flight deck. She found the planes that were to go all in place, their motors turning over slowly.
She caught a quick breath as the first plane took off; then the second and third had whirled away when a hand waved to her as a voice shouted:
“Hi, Sally! See you later!”