  They met a lone U. S. scout plane from another carrier and dipped a wing in salute. They had covered more than half the way to the task force when, coming from behind a very small cloud, Jack let out a howl: “Torpedo planes in formation, dead ahead!” “Enemy planes?” Stew rubbed his eyes. “Easy. They slipped out of the harbor during our stratosphere battles.” Jack gave his ship the rein. The situation was clear. For many weeks Jap task forces in harbors had been refusing to fight. It had been assumed that they would once again attempt flight. But at least one carrier had sent out its torpedo planes to do battle. “Get on the radio! Quick!” Jack exclaimed. “Not a second to lose!” Almost the next breath Stew was droning into his mike: “Twelve enemy torpedo planes approaching task force at top speed. Should strike soon.” His report exploded on the Black Bee like a bombshell. Having received his earlier report, all carriers had dispatched their dive bombers and torpedo planes, with fighter escort, to the enemy harbor, where they hoped to wreak havoc on the fleet before it could escape. On the Black Bee there remained only a small fighter squadron under Kentucky’s command. Half the fighters were on patrol duty, the rest were on the flight deck. “If those torpedo planes hit us it’s just going to be too bad!” Ted exclaimed as he and Kentucky raced for their planes. In the meantime Jack and Stew were shadowing the enemy squadron. “It’s no use taking them on alone,” Jack said. “I should say not! They’ve got a dozen Zeros protecting them,” Stew agreed. “But if they go after the Black Bee,” Jack added, “we’re bound to step in and do our bit.” “And the Black Bee it is!” Stew added a moment later when the powerful planes, as if drawn by a magnet, headed straight for the master prize, the Black Bee, largest ship in the convoy. “You’ve got to hand it to ’em!” Stew exclaimed. “They’ve got plenty of nerve!” “Lot of good it will do them!” Jack growled. “I’ll wreck this jet plane in a suicide dive before I’ll see the old Black Bee sunk!” Silently Stew offered up a prayer for the Black Bee, and for Jack as well. “Here comes Kentucky and his gang!” he exclaimed exultantly. “Too few and too late,” Jack growled. “Curse the Japs!” Meanwhile Jack was edging in closer to the approaching Japs. Stew was holding his breath, for he knew well that if the Zeros turned to go after him, Jack would not run for the stratosphere this time, but would stay and fight. Kentucky, with his small band of fighters, came zooming on in formation. The Zeros dashed ahead to engage them. At once there was a whirling battle, as hard to watch as a three-ring circus. Three fighters, Kentucky, Ted, and Red, remained in formation. When a Zero went after them it was like hitting a stone wall. Three Zeros went down in smoke. But the deadly torpedo planes roared on. Now, shaking themselves free from the Zeros, Kentucky’s three zoomed aloft to come in behind the torpedo planes. Striking the last of these a slanting blow, they sent it whirling and rolling toward the sea. Two others followed in quick succession. By this time the torpedo planes were nearing the Black Bee. Ack-acks and pom-poms began pouring bursting shells at them. Two were downed before they dropped their tin fish. But the third, seeming to bear a charmed life, came straight on. It dropped its fish, then zoomed aloft. With sinking heart Jack saw its torpedo tear a gaping hole in the Black Bee’s side. “Got to get into this!” he growled. Screaming aloft he raced at tremendous speed past the enemy planes, then whirling, came at the next torpedo plane in line. Just as he prepared to brave his own ship’s fire, the enemy plane blew up. A shell from the ship had gotten her. “Good work!” he exclaimed, once again roaring aloft. Other torpedo planes were coming in. Kentucky’s trio was strafing them, but still they came. “Only one hit so far. They’re thinning!” Jack exclaimed. “If my—” “There! That’s the one! We’ve got to get that one!” Once again the Jap came whirling in. This time nothing stopped the enemy, that is, nothing but the fire from Jack’s twin guns. The big plane nosed down into the sea. “That’s got them!” Jack breathed deeply as he passed out of range of the Black Bee’s fire. “Ted crashed!” Stew declared. “I saw him go down. Not a bad crash, but his ship’s gone.” “Where?” Jack demanded. “Over there to the right.” The jet plane banked, then sped away. “There he is!” Stew exclaimed. A moment more and Jack’s plane was taxiing in close to Ted’s wrecked fighter. Ted sat astride the fuselage, which was all but covered with water. “Are you hurt?” Jack asked. “Not—not so bad,” Ted replied, hesitatingly. “Sort of got a bump or two.” “Climb over and help him onto our plane,” Jack said. Stew was on the sinking plane in an instant. A moment more and they were rising from the water. Nearing the Black Bee, Jack signaled that he had a wounded man and was coming aboard. He got the all-clear at once. The first person to reach the plane was Mary. She had seen it all. There was a look on her face that Jack had never seen there before as she called, “Ted! Is he badly injured?” “He’ll pull through,” Jack admitted. “But why only Ted? Can’t you give another fellow a smile?” “Jack, I could kiss you for saving Ted,” she exclaimed. And that was just what she did. In landing on the sea, and again on the deck of the Black Bee, Jack had experienced unusual difficulty in controlling the jet plane, but was at the time too excited to think much about it. When at last he had time to look the plane over, he found that it had, at some time during the fight, been seriously damaged. “You picked up some of our flak,” was the verdict of the commander of the deck crews. “That plane’s through.” When Jack came to his own commander to ask for another plane, the Commander put a hand on his shoulder and in a gruff voice said: “Forget it, boy! You’ve done your part. You’ve pitched five innings, and never a man got to first base. It’s you for the showers.” And so it was showers for Jack and Stew, and sick bay for Ted, with a smiling Mary hovering over him. But the battle went on. Every carrier sent its full quota of dive bombers and torpedo planes to sink ships in the harbor and wreck shore installations. Speedy cruisers, destroyers, and PT boats came in next to put on the finishing touches. After these came troop transports and landing barges. Marines and GI Joes swarmed ashore by the thousands. By late afternoon they were ten miles inland. The battle was won. That was not all. They reached the prison camp, knocked down the gates, and set free more than five hundred prisoners who had not looked on the Stars and Stripes for two long years. Two hundred of the prisoners were put aboard the Black Bee, for she would be the first ship to reach Pearl Harbor. The hole in her side had been shored up, making her safe for a journey, but not for combat. As Jack watched the prisoners—ragged, unshaven, and lean-faced, with hungry looks in their eyes—line up on the deck, he recalled a song he had sung back in school days: Tramp! tramp! tramp! the boys are marching, Cheer up, comrades, they will come, And beneath the starry flag We will breathe the air again Of the freeland in our own beloved home. Others watched too. All of a sudden Mary let out a cry: “Tom! Tom! Oh! My dear!” She threw her arms about a slim, bearded youth who could have been but a boy on Bataan. “It’s her brother,” Jack whispered to Stew. “She told me about him. War is wonderful,” he murmured. “Wonderful and terrible.” The Black Bee held her position for the night. Early next morning, while Jack was pacing the deck, he saw a small craft flying the Union Jack come alongside. A rope ladder was let down and two men climbed aboard. One of the two men glanced about the deck. When his eyes fell on Jack, he said: “Ah! There you are!” Staring, Jack made no reply. Then suddenly he recognized the men. They were the British pair he had first seen with the jet plane. “We’ve come for our jet plane,” the man explained, advancing. “Those bloody Nazis and Japs stole her from us. We went after them with a boatload of fighting men, only to find that they were all dead and that you had gone off with our plane. But now here we are. Thanks for saving our plane, old boy! That was bully!” “Oh! Gee!” Jack exclaimed. “Somebody’s always taking the joy out of life! I suppose there’s no way I can talk you out of it?” “Not a chance,” was the smiling answer. “You see, this jet plane idea was all worked out in England. Then the United States asked for a chance to develop it. They were given the right and manufactured a few of them for experimental purposes. Australia asked for one of these and got it. My partner and I were given the task of testing the plane. We were traders before the war and so had a few caches of kerosene and other trade goods scattered among the islands.” “That’s why you were on our island,” said Jack. “Exactly why. But those Germans surprised us while we were on another island, and hijacked our plane. Now I’m afraid we’ll have to ask to have it returned. However, we’ve brought you a consolation award.” “What’s that?” Jack stared. “Twenty sacks of first-class mail for the men on your carrier. There should be a letter or two for you in that lot.” “Oh, a dozen, I hope!” Jack exclaimed. “We haven’t had any mail for a month.” It turned out that there were fifteen letters for Jack. The one he prized most came from Patsy. In part it ran:
“Boy!” Jack exclaimed. “That fixes things just about hunkydory! ‘Take good care of yourself.’ That’s just what I’ve been doing. ‘Come back soon.’ Wouldn’t I love it! Even just for a day!” Did a good gremlin whisper, “Sooner than you think”? If he did, he spoke the truth. The old Black Bee had been tied to the repair dock at Pearl Harbor for three days. Ted, who was practically himself again, and Mary, who was enjoying a new lease on life, had been making good use of the Hawaiian moonlight. One morning Jack and Stew were taking in the sights, when Jack was called back to the ship by his commander. “Get your things together,” the Commander ordered. “You’re going back to the States by plane.” “What’s that, sir?” Jack stared. “What have I done now?” “Plenty!” The Commander smiled. “It happens you’re the only living man who has flown a jet plane in actual combat! Since our people are soon to put this new type of plane into production—” “They want my expert advice, sir?” Jack laughed. “Why not, sir? It will be a real pleasure!” “You leave by plane in three hours, so you’d better start packing. Good-by and good luck.” The Commander extended his hand. “The Black Bee will be shipshape about thirty days from now. We shall hope to have you back by then. And if you can talk them out of about ten of those jet planes for our carrier, I’ll recommend your promotion to a Lieutenant’s rank.” “Then I’m as good as a Lieutenant right now, sir!” Jack’s arm went up in a snappy salute and, executing a right-about-face, he went off to pack; though he hated the thought of leaving the Black Bee and all the splendid men aboard, he could not still the song in his heart as he visioned the excitement of his next adventure. |
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