h had slashed into the picture from
nowhere. A darting Heinkel dived upon Stan. Stan opened up and saw an
aileron flutter away from the plummeting fighter. The formation of
Spitfires had broken up now. It was everybody into the dogfight to keep
the Heinkels from getting at the four precious bombers.

The slashing, whirling Spitfires did the job. They tore into the
Heinkels and their deadly eight-gun combinations showed at once what
superior fire power they had. Stan watched O'Malley send a fighter down
and slide over on his back, out of the path of three more, to get
another before his first burst of fire had ceased smoking. O'Malley was
a demon of the sky. He was in and out and up and down and his trail was
a trail of death. Allison was up there, too, doing just about as well
but doing it with cold precision rather than by sheer recklessness.

Stan knifed into a wedge of Heinkels darting down to drop upon one of
the Bristols. The Heinkels scattered before his fire, twisting and
ducking and darting. Stan laid over and looked down. The bombers had
unloaded. Below him the three ships, big now, and dirty in their
streaked gray and black paint, were very close. Men were running wildly
about on their decks or leaping into the water. One of them burst into
flame amidship, another seemed to explode, the third listed far over and
her stern sank slowly down.

Stan's radio was shouting at him. "Rose Raid! Rose Raid! Ten bandits
down. Two bombers have left formation. Two fighters have left formation.
Rose Raid, come in. Rose Raid, come in!"

The Spitfires could not come in. While the bombers slipped away under
full throttle, free of their loads and faster than they had been, the
Spitfires slashed and blasted and ducked. Stan watched a Spitfire go
into the bay, twisting and spinning. He wondered if it could be Allison
or O'Malley.

"Red Flight, come in." That was Allison's voice.

"Comin' soon as I get me another spalpeen," O'Malley's brogue burred.

Stan glanced at his gas gauge. It showed empty, but the Merlin was still
hammering away. He nosed her up as he cuddled his flap mike.

"Wilson coming in."

Up and up the Spitfire roared, shaking the Heinkels off her tail as she
twisted and banked, her 1,000 horses tossing her toward the ceiling.
Stan held his breath as he headed her home. Was that gas gauge a liar?

He heard the Merlin cough and knew the gauge had not lied. Looking back
he saw the dim outline of the enemy sh