“I believe as much, and so we will get on with the few details which must be settled. First, I must warn you that efforts are being made to prevent recruited pilots from reaching China.” He smiled and went on with hardly a pause. “You will be paid one thousand dollars a month in American money for your services. You will be under the orders of our renowned general, Chiang Kai-shek, as regular officers of the China Air Force. I have made out the papers you will need to present at the air base from which you will fly. Once you have reported you will not carry these papers on your person. Should you be forced down behind enemy lines or be in danger of capture, you will divest yourself of your uniform under which you will wear Chinese clothing. This is for your personal safety.”
“So the Japs won’t shoot us on sight?” O’Malley asked.
“They seldom shoot prisoners. They use them for bayonet drill, lashed to a post.” The general’s eyes were hard and clear.
O’Malley straightened aggressively and started to say something uncomplimentary about the Japs. Stan broke in.
“Thanks, General.”
O’Malley got to his feet and thrust out a huge hand. The general took it and gripped it.
“Don’t you worry, sor. ’Tis no Japs will be botherin’ yer supplies once we get up north,” O’Malley said gravely.
The general laughed. “You are most wonderful boys. I wish you good luck, and, as they say, happy landings.”
Stan hesitated, then faced the general. “Where did you learn to speak English, sir? Many of your phrases sound very familiar.”
“I come from San Francisco, where I was born. Like yourselves I am a foreigner helping a great people resist an aggressor. When the liberty of China is secure I shall return to San Francisco and my law practice.” There was a twinkle in the eyes of the general.