The ripple of approval burst into words. Someone called up to Munson:
“How are you going to get back?”
“I have transportation on a fast seagoing yacht,” Munson replied. “A wealthy friend of mine will see me through.”
“Got room for any more fellows?” a flier asked.
Munson held up his hand. “Now, don’t put me on the spot. I’m your instructor not your commanding officer. I wouldn’t break up this corps. The decision is purely a personal one.” He frowned at the men, then a smile spread over his beefy face. “There’s room but I’m making no offers.”
Stan edged forward. He saw that Allison and O’Malley were backing away from the crowd gathering around Munson. Stan spoke loudly to attract attention. The men turned to him. They respected Stan a great deal. Not so many hours before they had agreed to help him rid the squadron of Colonel Munson.
“We ought to think this over carefully,” he began. “We are here to do a job. China is a vital ally of the United States. Without us, the Chinese might not be able to carry on. We have not heard from our commanding officer yet.”
Munson laughed. “What I’m worried about is getting to my old outfit before they wipe the Japs off the map,” he said scornfully.
Many of the boys joined his laugh and several shouted loudly:
“Sure, that’s the stuff!”