Was Nancy too confident? In this world at war many strange things can happen, and many do.
Not so long after that, Sally found herself seated on the top of a high tower that overlooked a vast airfield. The skies were full of floating planes. The roar of powerful motors beat upon her eardrums. In her hand she held a score sheet, and, at the steady, carefully spoken words of a marine in a major’s uniform, she recorded hours, moments, numbers, and names.
On the officer’s head was a set of earphones. About his neck a chin-speaker was attached. From time to time, speaking always in that steady, even tone, he said:
“Come on down, six, four, three. Wind velocity, fifteen miles per hour, north-north-east.”
And again: “Circle once more, three-six-eight. Fast one coming in from the east.”
There were long periods of time when he said nothing, just stood there staring dreamily away toward the sea. But always he appeared to listen, as indeed he did, for listening to the radio voice of great four-motored bombers, inviting them to come in, advising them to wait, telling them when to take off, informing them regarding weather, was his duty. And on his ears, eyes and voice hung the life of many a fine young flier.
Red Storm, his fellow officers called him, some times “Silent Storm.” His real name was Robert Storm. Silent Storm was the name Sally liked best, although, of course, she never called him that, always Major Storm.
He seemed young for a major and certainly was handsome in a big, tall, red-headed way. He seldom spoke to her except to instruct her in her work. He was teaching her his own work, so she could take his place. Nancy too was learning the work, but at a different period.
As Major Storm stood there looking away during quiet times, she often wondered about that faraway look in his eyes. Then, too, there was the long scar across his right cheek and the look of utter weariness that came over his face at times when he slumped down in his chair.
“Major Storm,” she said one day, speaking with a sudden impulse that surprised her, “what does one do to make people want one as a friend?”