Dunn shook his head "no." "Dawn Patrol was a failure," he went on. "The Blue Baron declined the opportunity for a chivalrous duel in the sky."
Dawkins chuckled.
"I used to read Flying Aces too, when I was a kid," he said. "Who are you? Lieutenant Jack Carter?"
"Captain Bruce Strongheart," Dunn said with a smile. "Right now I'm getting dressed to have a champagne lunch with Nurse Nightingale."
"That wasn't her name," Dawkins said. "It was... Knight. Helen Knight."
"You did read Flying Aces, didn't you?" Dunn said, smiling.
"Yeah," Dawkins said. "I always wondered if Jack Carter ever got in her pants."
"I always thought she had the hots for Captain Strongheart. Beautiful women seldom screw the nice guy."
"Is that the voice of experience talking?"
"Unfortunately," Dunn said.
"They'll be back," Dawkins said, suddenly getting back to the here and now. "I wouldn't be surprised if in force. How's your squadron?"
"After Knowles, I'm down to five operational aircraft. By now, they should be refueled and rearmed. Tail number 107 is down with a bad engine. I don't think it will be ready anytime soon; maybe, just maybe, by tomorrow. Oblensky is switching engines. There are two in the bone-yard he thinks he may be able to use."
"What happened to the engine?"
"Well, not only was it way overtime, but it really started to blow oil. I listened to it. I don't think it would make it off the runway. I redlined it for engine replacement."
"They keep promising us airplanes."
"They promised me I would travel to exotic places and implied I would get laid a lot," Dunn said. "I don't trust them anymore."
"I'm giving them the benefit of the doubt," Dawkins answered. "I believe they're trying." His mouth curled into a small smile. "You don't think Guadalcanal is 'exotic'?"
"I was young then, Skipper. I didn't know the difference between 'exotic' and 'erotic' "
Dawkins touched his arm. "You better get something to eat."
"The minute I start to eat, the goddamned radar will go off."
"Probably," Dawkins said.
This, Dawkins thought, is where I'm supposed to say something reassuring. Or better, inspiring. Hell of a note that a MAG commander can't think of a goddamn thing reassuring or inspiring to say to one of his squadron commanders.
He thought of something:
"When Galloway comes back, I'll lay three to one he comes with stuff to drink."
"If he comes back," Dunn said. "What odds are you offering about that?"
"He'll be back, Bill," Dawkins said, hoping his voice carried more conviction than he felt.
[THREE]
=TOP SECRET=
FROM: MAG-21 1750 11OCT42
SUBJECT: AFTER-ACTION REPORT
TO: COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF, PACIFIC, PEARL HARBOR INFO: SUPREME COMMANDER SWPOA, BRISBANE COMMANDANT, USMC, WASH, DC
1. UPON RADAR DETECTION AT 1220 11OCT42 OF TWO FLIGHTS OF UNIDENTIFIED AIRCRAFT APPROX
140 NAUTICAL MILES MAG-21 LAUNCHED;
A. EIGHT (8) F4F4 VF-5
B. FIFTEEN (15) F4F4 VMF-121
C. SIX (6) F4F4 VMF-223
D. FIVE(5)F4F4VMF-224
E. FIVE (5) F4F4 VMF-229
F. THREE (3) P40 67TH FIGHTER SQUADRON USAAC
G. NINE (9) P39 67TH FIGHTER SQUADRON USAAC.
2. VF-5 AND VMF-121 NO CONTACT.
3. DUE TO INABILITY EXCEED 19,000 FEET WITH AVAILABLE OXYGEN EQUIPMENT USAAC AIRCRAFT
MADE NO INITIAL CONTACT.
4. AT 1255 11OCT42 REMAINING FORCE MADE CONTACT AT 25,000 FEET WITH 34 KATE REPEAT 34
KATE BOMBERS ESCORTED BY 29 ZERO REPEAT 29 ZERO FIGHTERS APPROXIMATE 20 NAUTICAL MILES
FROM HENDERSON FIELD.
5. ENEMY LOSSES:
A. NINE (9) KATE
KUNTZ, CHARLES M 1/LT USMC TWO (2)
MANN, THOMAS H JR 1/LT USMCR TWO (2)
DUNN, WILLIAM C 1/LT USMCR ONE (1)
HALLOWELL, GEORGE L 1/LT USMCR TWO (2)
KENNEDY, MATTHEW H 1/LT USMCR (2)
B. FOUR (4) ZERO
DUNN, WILLIAM C 1/LT USMCR ONE (1)
MCNAB, HOWARD T/SGT USMC (2)
ALLEN, GEORGE F 1/LT USMCR ONE (1)
C. IN ADDITION, SHARPSTEEN, JAMES CAPT USAAC 67 USAAC FS DOWNED ONE (1) KATE
STRAGGLER.
6. MAG-21 LOSSES:
A. ONE (1) F4F4 CRASHED AT SEA. PILOT RECOVERED.
B. ONE (1) F4F4 CRASHED ON LANDING, DESTROYED.
C. THREE (3) F4F4 SLIGHTLY DAMAGED, REPAIRABLE.
7. DUE TO CLOUD COVER REMAINING ENEMY FORCE COULD NOT SEE HENDERSON FIELD, BOMB LOAD
DROPPED APPROXIMATELY FOUR NAUTICAL MILES TO WEST. NO DAMAGE TO FIELD OR EQUIPMENT.
DAWKINS, CLYDE W LTCOL USMC COMMANDING
=TOP SECRET=
[FOUR]
Henderson Field Guadalcanal,
Solomon Islands
0615 Hours 12 October 1942
As the Douglas R4D (the Navy/Marine Corps version of the twin-engine Douglas DC-3) turned smoothly onto its final approach, the pilot, who had been both carefully scanning the sky and taking a careful look at the airfield itself, suddenly put his left hand on the control wheel and gestured with his right to the copilot to relinquish control.
The lanky and (like nearly everyone else in that part of the world) tanned pilot of the R4D was twenty-eight-year old Captain Charles M. Galloway, USMCR-known to his subordinates as either "The Skipper" or "The Old Man."
The copilot was a twenty-two-year-old Marine Corps second lieutenant whose name was Malcolm S. Pickering. Everyone called him "Pick."
As Pick Pickering took his feet off the rudder pedals, he took his left hand from the wheel and held both hands up in front of him, fingers extended, a gesture indicating, You've got it.
I didn't have to take it away from him, Charley Galloway thought as he moved his hand to the throttle quadrant. His many other flaws notwithstanding, Pickering is a first-rate pilot. More than that, he's that rare creature, a natural pilot.
So why did I take it away from him? Because no pilot believes any other pilot can fly as well as he can? Or because I am functioning as a responsible commander, aware that high on the long list of critically short materiel of war on Guadalcanal are R4D airplanes. And consequently I am obliged to do whatever I can to make sure nobody dumps one of them?
He glanced over at Pickering to see if he could detect any signs on his face of a bruised ego. There were none.
Is that because he accepts the unquestioned right of pilots-in-command to fly the airplane, and that copilots can drive only at the pleasure of the pilot?
Or because he is a fighter pilot, and doesn't give a damn who flies an aerial truck, all aerial truck drivers being inferior to all fighter pilots?
Galloway made a last-second minor correction to line up with the center of the runway, then flared perfectly and touched down smoothly. The runway was rough. The landing roll took them past the Pagoda, the Japanese-built control tower, and then past the graveyard. There the hulks of shot-up, crashed, burned, and otherwise irreparably damaged airplanes waited until usable parts could be salvaged from them to keep other planes flying.