Allison laughed. "There isn't any radio and there isn't a gun aboard this ship, except our two pistols."
"Fine," Stan said and opened the old Fiat up a bit more. "In that case we better get in before dark."
"You better be after rememberin' that I'm commander o' this outfit," O'Malley broke in.
"All right, Commander, the ship is yours." Stan eased over a bit. With a grin O'Malley squeezed into the pilot's seat.
"Now you can be after givin' the orders," he said. "Where in blazes are we?"
"We're over Italy," Stan said. "I think the town we just flew over was Cosenza, up the coast from Reggio."
"Do you be after thinkin' that's water ahead?" O'Malley asked.
They looked ahead and saw a strip of water and a long beach. Stan frowned. "Must be the Gulf of Taranto. I guess I'm a bit mixed up."
"I say, old man, we better swing around and head southwest," Allison said.
"We could fly to Africa," O'Malley remarked.