f he went on
with his flight and there was much dogfighting, going and coming, he
might not get home. Sim's voice came in.

"Wilson, sorry I couldn't handle all three Jerries. You'll have to go
back with our flight."

Stan scowled. Sim appeared well pleased with the idea. "I'll use my own
judgment," Stan snapped back.

"Name a leader and go back," Sim barked. "That is an order."

"Sorry," Stan answered. "I'm taking the boys on through."

CHAPTER III

HULS

Stan overtook his formation and dropped into place. The flight was
deployed with the Jerries perched up above and around waiting for the
Yanks to go home. Below lay the fields of Holland.

"Are you clear, specials?" Stan called.

"All clear," the boys called back. That meant they had zoomed down and
ditched their tanks in a way the Germans would not notice.

Flak was coming up and a flight of FWs were worrying the Fortresses and
Liberators below. One big fellow was out of formation and having a tough
time. Fifteen FW's were after it.

"We'll go down and have a crack at those FW's on that Fort," Stan
called. "So long, Sim, see you at mess!"

One after another the six special Thunderbolts zoomed down upon the
FW's. They came down in a screaming dive and their first burst sent five
FW's smoking to earth. Instantly the whole battle changed. The flocks of
Jerries up above were taken by surprise because this was not according
to the book. The Yanks should be keeping altitude, holding them pinned
to the sky, and they were due any moment to start running for home.

Stan and his crew covered the limping bomber and she began to pull up
into place where her flight had slowed to help her. Up above, the
Jerries cut loose and the Yanks got a crack at them as they tried to
filter through. For five minutes the sky was a battlefield, then the
Thunderbolts up above had to leave. They broke off and headed for home.
Behind them they left the wreckage of eleven Messerschmitts and
Focke-Wulfs.

With the bombers, O'Malley was putting on a show which reminded Stan of
the old days. He was stunting so wildly and slamming lead so fast the
Jerries began giving him a wide berth. Stan began to realize that their
mission was not to be any picnic. One Thunderbolt went down, slashed
open by a cannon shell. No chute blossomed out beneath it as it twisted
and rolled toward earth.

There were too many Me's and Focke-Wulf fighters. They were everywhere,
stabbing and diving, sl