“Well, those boys were flying a two seater, one was pilot, the other radioman and gunner. We were four planes together on patrol. Ten Zeros dropped down upon us from the clouds.”
“Oh! The clouds!” Mary looked up. Large, white clouds left by the storm were hovering above them.
“It was a hot fight,” Scottie went on. “I got me two Zeros, sent them down in flames. Having one more burst of fire I went after one more Zero. He was a tough one. Got in a burst of slugs on me and cut half my ship’s tail away. But I gave him one that set one of his wings shaking like a dead leaf. With my guns empty, I was heading for home and wondering if I’d get there, when I saw a good American two-seater going down in flames.
“‘It’s the end of those boys,’ I thought. Then I saw two parachutes blossom out.”
“Did they make it?”
“They would have.” Scottie hesitated. “You might not believe me, but those boys would tell you if you asked them—”
“Why? What—”
“The Jap that shot them down followed them, followed until their parachutes opened up and—”
“Shot them up—”
“That’s what he did. Me? I was so mad I went after him and without ammunition and with a shot-up tail I’d have got him too if I’d had to ram him, but he hid in a cloud.”