“Wipe that snicker off your face!” Munson bellowed.
Allison’s smile faded. His gaze moved over the colonel very deliberately. O’Malley began to mutter and scowl at the commander.
“What are you mumbling about?” Munson turned on O’Malley.
“I’m after bein’ near to starved,” O’Malley said humbly.
Munson had his mouth open to shout at O’Malley. He closed it without uttering a sound. Disgust was written on his beefy face.
“After this, orders are to be carried out,” he snapped. Then with a shrug of his trimly tailored shoulders, he turned and marched out.
As soon as his footsteps died away, a laugh burst from the men. They crowded around Allison and Stan. O’Malley stood back watching for a minute, then headed for the cook’s galley.
“We got him going,” the tall boy from Texas crowed.
“I have some poking around to do and I’ll get it done as quickly as I can. But, after this, we’ll fly an attack the way it should be flown and let him ground us if he dares. I’m thinking he’ll not do that because, if he did, the commander would investigate.” Stan spoke eagerly.
“We’re with you,” a number of the men answered. The others nodded their heads.