“What are you birds doing off your patrol beat?” Stan growled.
“We are inspecting the sunrise,” Allison’s voice droned back.
“Orders from Commander Allison, sor,” O’Malley chimed in.
“I appreciate the escort,” Stan called. “But if you have work to do get on about it.”
“We have to be on hand as part of the welcoming committee,” Allison drawled. “You know, old man, that your post would not fail to be set to celebrate your return.”
“Faith, an’ we have it all planned,” O’Malley crowed.
Stan scowled. He smelled a plot. Allison and O’Malley had something waiting for him. He was glad there were no brass bands available at the Chinese post.
“Did you shoot down any Japs?” O’Malley asked.
“I had a whack at Munson and put a bit of lead through his ship, but he got away,” Stan answered.
“In that case he’s my meat,” O’Malley answered.