As the grim shadows of night disappeared to make way for a cold, gray dawn, the silhouettes of nine pursuit planes and the silent figures of many ground men working busily about the ships could be seen on the field at Pensacola.

Save for the whirr of airplane motors, some going while others were just being started, a grim, foreboding silence prevailed as the mechanics and ground men worked swiftly to service the ships about to start on a long journey within the next half hour.

Officers and men, attired in regulation flying togs, stood together in small groups, some smoking, others chewing gum, all of them silently waiting for the moment to enter their cockpits and take off, perhaps on the last air voyage any of them would ever make.

Orderlies moved about with grim, determined faces, heavily laden with the luggage of their superiors, deaf to the usual heckling of the enlisted men, who never pass up an opportunity to yell, “dog robber,” when seeing an orderly perform some menial task.

Some of the officers and men who had friends and relatives in Pensacola, were making the rounds, shaking hands and patiently listening to fond farewells, don’t-forget-to-write warnings and the usual bon-voyage ceremonies that are such an important part of all types of leave-takings.

As the base buglers sounded the preliminary calls at a quarter to six, the pilots and observers hurried to their planes, and with the assistance of mechanics and ground men, put on their parachutes and adjusted their Gasborne helmets, at the same time, supervising the last-minute loading of personal baggage.

A sharp note was sounded by a bugler and someone crisply yelled, “Attention.” All the men on the field turned their eyes center, lifting their bodies and heads and throwing back their shoulders as the senior Marine officer and the flight commander came upon the scene of activity, accompanied by their respective aides.

An adjutant called, “As you were” after the two officers had returned the salutes of the pilots and observers, and the buzz of activity, laughter and flip talking was again resumed with greater zest.

“The Aerological Officer reports that you will have a good ceiling to Havana,” the senior Marine officer announced, as he accompanied the flight commander to his plane, the first one in line, bearing the red replica of Satan, the insignia of the Tenth Air Squadron, “though you may run into rain over Yucatan.”

The flight commander smiled as he hurriedly cast his clear, narrow blue eyes over the line of pilots and observers standing by their planes, waiting for the word to go.

“It will take more than rain to stop these anxious playmates of Satan!”

Both men joined in hearty laughter over this prophecy, each knowing full well the courage of Marine flyers, especially members of the Tenth Squadron, who lived up to every tradition of the service and the flattering legends spread throughout the land concerning their especial deeds of glory and bravery.

Panama and Lefty paid little attention to the noisy activity now going on about them. They had been too occupied since Reveille to even speak to each other, and now they were frantically working away to load the last bit of equipment into their plane.

Large beads of perspiration trickled down their faces and their breathing was deep and quick as they bent over to throw the final piece of baggage into the ship.

“Well, that’s that!” Panama announced as he straightened himself and rubbed his back to ease a sharp pain just above the base of his spine, “another fifteen minutes and we’ll be in the air.”

Lefty smiled broadly with anticipation as he unwrapped a slice of chewing gum and looked about to see who was among those preparing to leave.

As he turned to his right, his eyes met those of Steve Graham’s.

The ostentatious Graham, decidedly pleased with himself, purposely polished off his silver wings with the palm of his hand for no other reason than to make Lefty conscious once more of his failure to pass the solo test.

“Wish you had a pair?” he yelled over to Phelps, mockingly. “Though if you got them, you’d probably put them on backward!”

Lefty made a quick move in the direction toward Steve, determined to close this obnoxious pilot’s mouth for once and for all, but Panama intervened by stepping in front of him.

“Keep your shirt on! Do you want to be sent to the brig?” he whispered, then looking over his shoulder, called aloud to the annoying Marine: “Better not polish them wings too often, Graham. You’re liable to wear off the design!”

This final retort was precisely the thing necessary to end the oral barrage of hostilities. Steve’s face flushed and he scowled menacingly, attempting to think of something mean to say, but as a clever answer failed him, he turned his back to the two men, consoling himself in the philosophy that arguing with a flight sergeant might prove a foolish thing to attempt under present circumstances.

Lefty made no attempt to refrain from laughing boisterously. He cast a grateful glance in Panama’s direction, and then busied himself about the plane, making certain that everything was in tiptop shape, ready for the long hop without a flaw.

Near the great hangar, just to the rear of where the waiting planes were lined, the wind was playing havoc with the thick, dark hair of a hatless girl and the blue regulation nurse’s cape she wore, showing a spick-and-span white uniform beneath every time a gust of wind lifted the blue serge.

Elinor’s eyes were searching the field for a glimpse of two familiar figures as she ran in and out in a zigzag fashion, between men and planes until she spied Lefty and Panama far down in the line, near the ship of the flight commander.

She hurried down the field, struggling to brush back her hair and keep her cape closed with one hand, while in the other, she held two packages neatly wrapped in white paper.

Reaching the fuselage of a plane a little away from where Panama and Lefty were standing, she stopped and attempted to catch the boy’s eyes without Panama becoming cognizant of her presence. Her efforts were without avail, for just as she waved her hand, Williams turned about and caught sight of her instantly.

Seeing the girl at that early hour thrilled the sergeant to the tips of his toes and his face lighted up with a look of joy and surprise over this unexpected pleasure.

He waved back to her, believing that her salutation was meant for him, and then turning, slapped Lefty upon the back and yelled, “Look! There’s Elinor! Jumpin’ cats, she got up in the middle of the night to say good-by to me!”

Lefty pretended not to hear as he toyed with the hub of one of the landing gear wheels, though he felt his heart beating faster at even the very mention of the girl’s name.

Panama gazed at him in bewilderment, not quite comprehending the boy’s indifference, and then repeated his original announcement of Elinor’s arrival.

Phelps responded by rising, and without even glancing in the direction Elinor was approaching, walked around the side of the plane and climbed up into the rear cockpit to examine the machine gun. A sickening feeling came over him as cold beads of perspiration moistened his forehead.

He felt a dull, terrible thud in his heart over the prospect of having to again face Elinor after what Panama had confided to him only the afternoon previous.

When she gave him her photograph the morning before, he had promised to see her that night and go into town to a movie, but after what Williams had told him, it was too great a temptation to even as much as trust himself now in her company. He loved her as he had never loved any woman. From the very first moment he had set eyes upon her back in San Diego the day he passed his medical test, his head had been filled with dreams of a pleasant future spent with this girl as his life’s partner. Now that Panama admitted harboring the same hopes, Lefty firmly believed that it was his duty to step aside and concede his place to the man who had not alone befriended him, but saved his life at the risk of his own.

As for Elinor, she was unable to understand Lefty’s sudden reversal of mind and heart, and a pained expression of keen disappointment overshadowed her lovely countenance as she noted the boy’s puzzling, indifferent attitude of plainly ignoring her.

Panama rushed forward to greet the girl with a broad smile of welcome, forgetting himself for the moment and clasping her in his arms, then blushing furiously as he realized the forward step he had made.

Elinor helped to relieve his embarrassment by ignoring his bold action and greeting him with a warm, “Hello,” while Lefty, still seated in the cockpit, experienced a mingled feeling of nervousness and slight jealousy, as he struggled to pretend that he was still unaware of her arrival.

“Gosh, Elinor!” Panama bellowed with jubilant enthusiasm, “it was mighty nice of you to get up so early just to say good-by to me!”

The pretty nurse’s lips parted in a warm and generous smile, at the same time, casting a hurried and nervous glance in Lefty’s direction, whose back was still turned toward her.

“I couldn’t see either of you boys go away without saying good-by,” she replied in a tone unmistakably loud enough so that Lefty could not help but hear. Then she glanced down and held out one of the neatly wrapped packages she had been carrying. “Here’s a little something for you so that you won’t forget me!”

Panama looked with longing and surprised eyes at the package and then at Elinor. He stumbled from one foot to the other, tried to speak but somehow couldn’t find the words, and then, with hesitance, lifted his hand and accepted the box.

“Gee, this is swell! Oh, boy—I didn’t think you’d remember me like this!” He turned about, grinning from ear to ear, and looked up at Lefty, shouting, “Hey, kid! Look what Santa Claus just brought me!”

Still making a sincere attempt to avoid any direct meeting with Elinor, the boy merely looked over his shoulder with his eyes trained just above the nurse’s head and smiled at Panama, quickly resuming his work again on the machine gun.

This latest action of Lefty’s left no doubt in Elinor’s mind that he was intentionally avoiding her, and the consciousness of his inexplainable attitude hurt her terribly. Her mind became a befuddled center of unanswerable and annoying questions that she struggled to fathom out, though finally giving up the task with regret just as Panama, in an embarrassed fashion, began to stutter incoherently, “I—well—er—ahem—er—if I could manage to write a couple of letters, will you—er—do you think you’ll find time to read ’em?”

Elinor was deeply touched by the man’s sincerity. Her heart went out to him with understanding; for the moment allowing her to forget Lefty and his puzzling attitude.

“You know I’ll read every word you write,” she replied, encouragingly, “and I’ll answer your letters too, you big silly!”

With such encouragement, Panama might have asked Elinor then and there to marry him. At least, for one brief moment, he found courage enough to pop the question, but as the words came to his lips, he heard a familiar voice from behind him call his name. Turning, he recognized the flight commander, and without further hesitance, came to attention, saluted and joined his superior officer, walking off with him and leaving Elinor standing alone.

Once more alone, the puzzled nurse again turned her attention to Lefty, seated in the plane, adamant as ever in his determination to ignore her.

She hesitated for a moment and then walked over to the side of the plane, gazing up at him with a bewitching smile that completely took the boy off his guard.

As he looked down at this girl, a sweet and appealing figure whose hair, skirt and cape fluttered in the wash of the plane’s propeller, a feeling of uneasiness gripped him, impressing indelibly upon his mind and heart that he loved her—more than all the world.

She lifted her hand that still held the other package, mutely signifying to the boy to accept the gift. The result was perfect. Conscious of her thoughtfulness, the barrier he had raised so high between them, instantly melted away as he reached over the side of the fuselage and took the box, his hand touching hers for one brief moment, electrifying the hearts of both.

“My, but you’re a busy person,” she said, assuming an air of self-injury.

Lefty’s face shaded with a frown, then mimicking the girl’s injured tone, looked off in the direction of where Panama and the flight commander stood talking, replying curtly, “Well, I notice that you’ve been kind of busy yourself!”

At loss to understand the boy’s sudden change of attitude again, Elinor held out her hand in a manner of farewell and said, “Well, I hope you have a safe voyage and—good-by!”

He gazed down at her for a moment and then took her slim hand in his, pressing it gently and making no attempt to hide the thrill even this slight contact gave him.

She responded with an inviting and tender look that made him forget every promise he had made to himself. For one brief moment, he and this girl were the only two people in the entire world and it was inevitable that the first thought that came to his mind was to hop out of the plane, hold her tightly in his arms and shower her lovely, tempting lips with kisses.

All at once, he boldly awoke with the annoying realization that he was selfishly enacting a love scene with his dearest friend’s girl, and Panama only a stone’s throw away from them. Much to Elinor’s bewilderment, Lefty quickly assumed a belligerent attitude, saying, “Why did you have to come down here this morning?”

For the moment, his thoughtless words cut straight through to her heart, bringing a faint sign of tears to her eyes; then all at once, something within her instinctively lifted the shroud of mystery that enveloped Lefty and she saw right through him, completely understanding his purpose of assumed indifference.

As they both stood silently gazing at each other, Elinor was turning over the problem in her mind whether or not it might be best to inform Lefty exactly how she felt toward Panama, when the sergeant came bursting in upon them in a mad hurry to get away.

Without even glancing up at the boy again, Elinor shook hands with Panama, called out a cheery farewell and ran off to join a group of nurses who stood near by, watching the spectacular take-off.

The large siren atop of the central hangar blew shrilly and with it came the mingled shouts of men and a renewed bustling activity through the line of planes, the motors of which were all purring with a deafening roar now.

Panama climbed up into the cockpit, smiling triumphantly and waving with enthusiasm to Elinor. He turned and slapped Lefty on the back in a jubilant mood, pointing to where the girl was standing. “See that, boy,” he announced boastfully. “Don’t you wish you had a girl like her?”

Lefty threw off Panama’s hand disgustedly without making comment and dropped down in his seat, strapping on his helmet and pulling the large Visionaire goggles over his eyes just as the sound of the bugle to take off came to the ears of all.

A wild shout arose from the men seated in the line of planes as each pilot exultantly gave his ship “the gun,” taxiing down the great field into formation, waiting a moment for the final sign from the commander.

The flight commander, in the first plane, rose and looked down the line of ships, making certain that formation had been made and all were accounted for.

He lifted his arm, which was a signal for every other pilot to do the same. Making certain that the way was clear, he dropped his hand, giving his plane the gun, and the great, crusading air fleet began to taxi down the field with a deafening roar of the motors and swiftly moving propellers.

As the planes gained altitude, Panama, still wearing a jubilant expression of victory, looked out over the fuselage and waved down to Elinor who was still standing, with upturned head, watching the progress of the ships.

The sergeant turned and motioned to Lefty to look down but the boy, understanding his object in requesting him to do so, merely scowled sullenly and kept his eyes straight ahead.

Flying south, the planes fell into battle formation, creating a beautiful spectacle to view from the earth far below just as the sun rose, spreading its majestic glory and warmth over a bright and gorgeous Florida morning.

After reaching his flying altitude, Panama held the stick with his knees as he nervously unwrapped the package Elinor had given to him before he left, his eyes eagerly resting upon some candy, a few packages of cigarettes and a large plug of chewing tobacco on top of which he found a note that read, “Good luck—Elinor.”

In the rear cockpit, Lefty followed suit by opening his package and discovering a small sewing kit with some buttons and a copy of Lindbergh’s book, “We.”

A small white card protruded from the corner of the book and with some hesitance, Lefty pulled it out and read the words that completely upset his emotions, causing him to wish that he had left Elinor in a different frame of mind, and yet, troubling him over the fact that this romance, if it didn’t end for once and for all, might break Panama’s heart.

The sergeant looked back at Lefty, still wearing a broad, happy grin as he held up Elinor’s gift, he allowed the boy to read the note.

Phelps nodded his head, attempting to smile unbegrudgingly. Panama then placed the box out of sight, folding the note and carefully putting it away in the pocket of his windjammer.

The boy shook his head despairingly, sighed deeply and once more unfolded the small piece of white paper upon which the girl had scribbled: “I’ll miss you—Elinor.”

Once again he read those few lines and the world of happiness they promised if he only dared so much as say the word.

He watched Panama, now skillfully manipulating the plane. A sudden feeling of security and warmth came upon him and he gazed at the man before him with honest gratitude and an undying vow of devotion and friendship upon his lips.

Slowly he folded Elinor’s note and tore it in two, dropping the pieces overboard to be separated and lost forever.