“Just a ten-minute walk,” Tony answered.
“We’ll hit it right on the minute,” Stan said eagerly. “Lead on.”
Tony led them out of the woods and into the wheat field. They checked the wind and got out their flares. Arno took one, Tony another, while Allison took the red center marker.
“Clear a space so as not to set the field of wheat on fire,” Arno warned. “I’ll show you how far to go.”
Stan and the general went along, carrying the guns and grenades. They were about in the center of the field when they heard the roar of a plane motor. Stan listened and then grinned. The engine was a powerful radial. He was certain O’Malley was at the throttle.
The plane swooped around and around high above while the boys got spaces cleared and everything set. Arno called to the others and the flares blossomed out. Looking up into the sky they waited. The plane circled and headed in. Suddenly a barrage broke loose from a hill a half mile away. A German battery had heard the plane and had spotted the flares. The gunners were shooting at the flares and by the dirt they were lifting they seemed to be getting the range.
“He’ll be blown to bits when he lands!” Arno shouted.
“We’ll have to move back or get blasted ourselves,” Allison called, breaking into a run.
Shells were exploding close to them, kicking dirt over them, and the barrage was swinging toward them. Overhead the plane was coming in. It roared over their heads a few feet above the barrage.
“Overshot it!” Tony yelled. “Now he’ll have to try again.”
“And the Germans are coming!” Stan yelled. “Get set with the machine guns!”
When a shell burst close to Allison, he stopped running. Suddenly he shouted, “He’s fooled them! He’s set down at the far edge of the field!”
Sure enough, the plane had landed almost at the edge of the woods. It was swinging around. They all ducked and raced toward it. Stan got there first and was greeted by O’Malley’s voice from the plane.
“Sure, an’ you got out the band for a welcome!”
“As soon as they spot the flare of your exhausts the welcome will get hotter!” Stan shouted back.
Loading up was only a matter of seconds, but the Germans on the hill and those charging down into the field had the Mosquito located and began pounding the lower end of the field. O’Malley headed into the barrage and hopped her off without getting a direct hit. They circled overhead and then swung south. Stan was seated across from O’Malley.
“Have a nice trip?” O’Malley asked with a grin.
“We did,” Stan answered.
“I hear there’ll be a flock o’ tinware waitin’ for you when you get in.” O’Malley continued to grin. “The boys are bettin’ ten to one that you all got shot. I’ll be richer than Rockefeller when I get back.” He chuckled to himself.
“Right now we could do with something to eat,” Stan said as he leaned back and closed his eyes.
“Colonel Benson has a banquet spread for you. Have Allison get on the radio and tell him to put it on the table, and have him order me two apple pies.” O’Malley opened the Mosquito up another notch as he thought of the pies.
Stan clicked on the intercom and got Allison. He felt, at the moment, as though he could stand a vacation, but glancing back he saw a great fire raging with an intensity that lighted the sky for a hundred miles. The Germans were destroying the historical city of Naples. There would be no vacation.
