“We may find that out later,” Stan said.
“We’ll make jolly well sure there is no army of Thai troops waiting for us when we land,” Allison said.
“I can’t think of a better way of getting rid of us than having us dumped into a native stockade where we could rot while the war goes on,” Stan said.
They reported to the briefing room where the captain in charge gave them their flying orders. Out on the field, a battered Martin attack bomber sat with her propeller idling.
“The old gal looks like she has seen a hard winter,” O’Malley said. He faced his two pals. “Suppose you boys let me take this hop. You could sneak out on patrol and get some action. It won’t take three of us to fly that crate.”
“We have our orders,” Allison reminded. “Besides, old man, I might need a couple of good gunners.”
O’Malley grunted. “It’s goin’ to spoil the whole day for all three of us.”
“I have a hunch we might meet a few Jap fighters on the way over or back,” Stan remarked. “Just like we met them when we flew into this jungle.”
“The best way to find out is to get going,” Allison said.
The ground men had climbed out of the bomber. O’Malley went up first and began looking the guns over. Stan and Allison were up in front when he came back from a prowl in the rear.