“You’re on fire,” Stan warned.
“I’m just learnin’ to smoke,” O’Malley called back.
As Stan went across and up, he saw the advantage the P–40 had over the Jap fighters. They darted after him, but he slipped away on them. As he went over and down, he saw that his pals were doing the same thing. That is, all but O’Malley, who was battling it out with a dozen Japanese around him.
The five Flying Tigers came back across and their roaring charge was too much for the Japs. They dived and scattered, but, in getting clear, they lost three more planes.
“No use trying to keep a tally!” Stan shouted.
He looked down and saw that O’Malley’s plane had burst into flame. He watched the Irishman heave back his hatch cover and tumble out. For a moment, he held his breath. Had O’Malley forgotten everything he had been told? It seemed he had slept through the instruction period. His parachute was billowing out and he was sailing through the air. But that was not the worst of it. Two Japs were diving at him from out of the blue.
Stan went over and down with his motor wide open. As he roared toward the earth, a plane shot over his hatch cover and he had a glimpse of Allison bending forward as though to push his plane faster.
“He grabbed the fastest crate,” Stan growled as he eased over and chased Allison down the chute.
Before they could reach O’Malley, one of the Japanese had zoomed past the dangling pilot and had opened up on him. Stan gritted his teeth and pulled the P–40 up. He intended to get that fellow for the dirty trick he had pulled. Furiously he twisted the gun button as the Jap came into his windscreen.
His Brownings rattled a short burst and the Jap wobbled sickeningly. His ship laid over and seemed to explode. Stan eased off and looped. As he came down again, he saw that Allison was circling a parachute that was settling into a field. Watching, he saw the parachute fold up. He laid over and throttled down waiting for O’Malley to get up.