"Something reminds me I have not had a bite to eat so far today," he said. "Do you boys mind if I have something sent in while I'm talking with you? I won't be able to get away later."
"Certainly not, sir," Allison said.
The O.C. was still looking at O'Malley. "Will you boys join me? A spot of tea or something?"
Before Allison or Stan could politely refuse, O'Malley answered, "Well, sir, I'm not partial to tea, but I could manage with a wee slab o' pie."
Allison glared at him while Stan struggled to smother a grin. The O.C. looked at them. "Would you boys have some pie?"
"No, thanks," both spoke in unison.
The O.C. rang and an orderly appeared. He took the Commander's order and hurried away. When the door closed the O.C. turned to Allison.
"I always get the bad part of every deal. Before me I have an order transferring you three men to Croydon Field. As soon as I get a few satisfactory men around me they are taken away." He looked sourly at O'Malley as though blaming him. "Take this wild man, O'Malley. He has begun to attract notice."
"It's been so quiet no man could attract notice," O'Malley said gloomily.
The O.C. smiled and fished another paper out of a tray. "Twenty-four hours in the air," he read. "Three Dornier bombers and two Messerschmitt fighters shot down by Lieutenant O'Malley." He slid the report into a file. "So this is quiet, eh?" He actually smiled as he said it.