CHAPTER IV
BEACH-HEAD
O'Malley grabbed his flight orders. He scowled at Captain Marks. For once the captain did not insist that he read his orders. O'Malley turned upon his heel and strode out of the briefing room. He was met in the darkness outside the office by an officer.
"You will fly a course over Tunis and approach Malta from due south, Lieutenant. Colonel Benson's orders. You are to make as many flights as possible today. There will be heavy action in the straits and you are to avoid that area." The officer saluted and moved on into the briefing room.
"Sure, an' I'll do me own settin' o' the course," O'Malley bellowed.
He was met at his plane by his master mechanic. "You have two new men today, sir. I have given them a few details of your course."
"An' I'll be givin' them some more," O'Malley growled as he climbed into the cockpit.
He settled down and listened for a few minutes to the excited orders jamming the air. Flights were heading out, bomber squadrons were calling in or taking orders. O'Malley set his phones on the beam and bent forward.