Dave Dawson with the Commandos

by Robert Sidney Bowen

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  _Commandos Never Quit!_

  For a fleeting instant Dave's head was full of spinning colored lights,and his lungs were full of searing white flame. But the lights and thefire were gone as quickly as they had come. He rolled off the heap madeby von Staube and von Gault, and breathed a little crazy prayer ofrelief that in spilling down he hadn't driven home his Commando knife.Quite unconsciously he must have twisted his hand so that the point ofthe knife was no longer at the German's back. And in the next instant herealized that Freddy Farmer had likewise been fortunate. Von Staube wasstill in a faint, and von Gault was rigid with fear, and gasping forknocked out wind. But neither of them was dead.

  "Blast!" Freddy almost sobbed. "It was so close, too! I--"

  "Shut up!" Dave told him. "It's still close. Grab your guy by thecollar, and drag him along. The deeper we get into these trees, thebetter. I got an idea."

  "What...?"

  "Save it!" Dave cut his pal off again. "Just grab hold and heave-ho!Those tramps are only shooting at shadows so far. They don't know whichdirection we took. We can make tracks while there's still time. Deeperinto the woods, Freddy."

  Though his prisoner was still gasping and choking, that didn't botherDave in the least. He hooked the fingers of his right hand in vonGault's tunic collar and then hauled the German over the ground anddeeper into the strip of woods. Freddy and he had traveled no more thanfifty yards when suddenly the English youth lost his footing and wenttumbling with his prisoner down into a partially grown over shell cratermade in the first year of the war. Dave stopped just in time, and feltlike letting out a shout of joy. The gods had laughed, but they werebeing a little kind to Freddy and him now. Dave slid down into the shellcrater, hauling von Gault along with him. By the time he reached thebottom where Freddy was wiggling out from under the unconscious vonStaube, von Gault was past the moaning complaint stage. He was havingall he could do to get a little air into his lungs and get it outagain.

  "Nice going, Freddy!" Dave cried softly. "Just what the doctor ordered.Couldn't find a better hide-out than right down here. Now--"

  "But, Dave, we've--"

  "Pipe down!" Dawson whispered. "Listen! We haven't a chance to reachthat Dornier with all these birds tearing about. We'd be bound tostumble into them. These two chumps, their condition, would be a deadgive-away. And--and, Freddy, the killing stuff is out, until there isn'ta _single_ hope left."

  "Quite, Dave!" Freddy whispered. "I was just talking for their benefit,inside there, you know. Not unless--"

  "Okay, okay, we're decided on that point!" Dave cut in. "Now, look! Theway to that Dornier has got to be made clear. That yelling pack ofwolves has got to be drawn off in the other direction. They've got to bemade to think they've got a small sized war on their hands. I think Ican arrange that part. You stick here, and see that these two don't letout a peep. If they so much as take a loud breath, crown them. I won'tbe gone more than ten minutes at the most. Then we'll carry them piggyback the rest of the way to the Dornier. But, hey! The Dornier! You_did_ fix it to be revved up?"

  "No, my little Commando knife," Freddy replied. "I made that Jerry pilotstick his head out the door and yell to one of his mechanics out thereto start up the Dornier's engines. He was too scared to do anythingelse. Then I pulled him inside, locked the door for good luck, andbashed him into sleep, along with the dispatch rider who had comepopping through. But, Dave! You can't!--"

  "I can, and will!" Dave snapped angrily. "Look! It's my turn to have ahand in this party. You've done plenty, pal. I've just been playing theoutfield with a no hit pitcher in the box. Nix! My turn, now. You stayput with these two. I'll be back in ten minutes, or less."

  Dave turned to streak off among the shadows, but turned back to FreddyFarmer once more.

  "Give me ten minutes, Freddy," he whispered. "If I don't show up, I'llhave at least dragged them off in the other direction. That'll be thatmuch of a break for you. Then you'll have to lug these two one at a timeover to the planes, and take care of the guards there. But you've got agun, and know how to use it. One thing, though. I'd stuff these two inthe rear pit of one of those Messerschmitt One-Tens, if I were you. Youcan kick those babies into life and get off quicker than you can in aDornier. Quite an order to fill, pal. I hope you don't have to fill it,and that I'll be back. Luck, pal!"

  Dave squeezed Freddy's shoulder hard, and without giving his pal so muchas a chance to open his mouth, whirled away from the half grown overshell crater and went speeding silently back through the woods towardtheir starting point. But he didn't go all the way to the startingpoint. He didn't even leave the woods. He kept well under their shadowsuntil he was almost abreast of the Headquarters building and not a dozenyards from German officers and soldiers milling about in the pale light.

  He pulled up to a halt and froze against a tree trunk. It had been hisoriginal intention to make for the west end of the field. He had spottedsome drums of oil and gasoline there when walking by the spot withFreddy Farmer. But now sight of the Nazis dashing about like so manybewildered chickens was too much to resist. Here was the perfect chancefor a trained Commando to do his stuff. Surprise attack, a lightningblow, and an even faster retreat!

  He moved slowly away from the tree trunk and toward a slightly hunchedover German soldier with a sub-machine gun in his hands who wasexamining some piled up rubbish in back of the Headquarters building.Dave moved slowly for a moment, and then sprang forward with the speedof a pouncing tiger. The Commando knife he carried in his left hand wenthome dead true. His other hand chopped down on the sub-machine gun andyanked it from the falling German's hands. So swift and so deadlyaccurate had the Yank's actions been that he was spraying machine gunbullets to right and left, and in front of him, before any of thoseGermans near by knew what had happened.

  For many the truth came too late. They went over like ten pins and fellsprawling to the ground. The others just leaped forward regardless ofwhat was in front of them. They crashed into each other, into the rearof the building, or just into thin air--and kept going at top speed. Awild blast of concentrated fire in three directions, and then Davejerked his finger off the trigger and sprinted back under the trees.

  "Follow me, men!" he roared out in English. "The west side! Gatherthere, and we'll mop up. Follow me, men!"

  Dave fired a shot burst, and went crashing through some bushes, makingas much noise as he could. Then he slowed up a little, swerved sharplyto his right, and the sounds he made from then on were no louder than asummer night wind. His feet hardly touched the ground as he dodged treetrunks, twisted past thorny bushes, and went speeding in a half circlearound to the west side of the field. There the trees ended and he burstout onto open ground. Two grey clad figures loomed up in front of him.He saw the flash of dawn light on gun barrels. He flung himself flat,squeezing his own trigger as he fell. Three soldiers hit the groundtogether, but Dave Dawson was the only one of the three who gotinstantly up onto his feet again.

  Clutching the sub-machine gun, he ran body well bent forward and low tothe ground. Fifty yards of sprinting took him to the oil and gasolinedrums. He skidded to a halt and blazed away at one of the oil drums. Thebrownish stuff spurted out onto the ground. Dave dropped to his kneesand jerked a snap lighter from his pocket. He struck it into flame,dropped it in a pool of oil and started running off to the right at topspeed. He had hardly reached the shelter of some woods on that side whenthe blazing oil reached the gas drums, and started to touch them off.Though he was a good thirty yards away the force of the explosionknocked him flat and almost sent the sub-machine gun flying from hisgrasp.

  He clung onto it, however. And well that he did, too! At that moment, asquad of German troops came tearing toward him. They didn't see him inthe light of the raging flame, but they would have in the next splitsecond. Dave, however, didn't wait that next split second. He had swungthe sub-machine gun up and was making it spit nickel-jacketed lead. Itwill never be known, but it is quite possible that not one of those
Nazisoldiers knew what hit him. At least, not until he woke up in that otherworld, and there was Satan inviting him in.

  Almost before the last Nazi had dropped, Dave was up on his feet again,and in whirlwind motion. Behind him was a roaring and a shouting thatsounded like the whole German Army on his neck. His lungs were aching,and there was pain in his body from head to toe, but that did not stophim from putting more driving power into his legs. He tore blindlyforward, not caring so much about direction now as distance. And whenpresently the roaring and shouting behind him seemed less, he cutsharply to his right toward the west.

  He headed west for perhaps two minutes, then veered right again towardthe north. All the roaring and shouting was off to his right now, and hehad only to jerk his head in that direction to see the reflection ofthe burning oil and gas through the trees. He sped on by that spot untilhe came out into the open again and saw the dim shapes of houses infront of him. He swerved to the right for the last time, and wenttearing along to the protective strip of woods that ran in back of theHeadquarters building.

  He was once more almost abreast of it when a figure loomed up in frontof him. But loomed is not the correct word. The figure seemed to pop up,as though right out of the ground. He saw the hated grey green uniform,but he had no time to fling up his gun and fire. He was carrying it inone hand with fingers hooked about the trigger guard, while he kept theother hand out in front of him. So there was no time to shift his holdon the gun and shoot. There was only the time to hurl the gun straightout from him with every ounce of his strength. It didn't have far totravel, and it flew true. The gun crashed into the German's face andknocked him over flat, and Dave was forced to leap into the air broadjump style to prevent from stumbling over the fallen figure writhing onthe ground in pain and total blindness.

  Maybe ten seconds, maybe a half minute ticked by before Dave reached thegrown over shell crater, and dived into it headlong. Hands slapped downon him, and steel fingers dug deep. But the pressure was instantlyrelaxed, and Freddy Farmer's arms were about him and hoisting him up toa sitting position. He heard the mumble of Freddy's words, but therewere too many colored lights in his brain, too much of a roar in hisears, and too much white fire in his bursting lungs for him tounderstand for a few seconds.

  "As if half the blasted German Army went tearing past us," Freddy'swords began to register on his brain. "We would have plowed right intothem, if it hadn't been for your stunt, though! All that noise took fiveyears off my life! Thought sure you had copped a bullet and--"

  "Kiss me later!" Dave panted. "Right now we've got to get moving.They're running circles around each other down there. But they may givea thought to the planes any second. Grab your guy, and--Hey! They aren'tdead--Freddy?"

  Dave gasped the last as he reached down and started to heave von Gaultup onto his feet. The German was limp, like a sack of wet wheat.

  "Of course not!" Freddy snapped angrily. "Think I'm a blasted Nazi? Justtapped them to make sure they'd kick up no fuss. Better to carry them,anyway. This fat slob, von Staube, wouldn't go half fast enough, anyway.Let's go!"

  "Check!" Dave grunted, and heaved von Gault up over one shoulder. "Thelast lap. Keep your gun in your hand, Freddy. Maybe the mechanics andguards didn't join in the fun."

  "We'll find that out!" Freddy panted, and started off with AdolfHitler's military little Boy-Blue slung over his shoulder.

  The quarter of a mile they were forced to travel before they reached theopen east end of the small flying field didn't give forth a single Nazi.And fortunately, for them, the noise of the revving engines and thebedlam still in progress at the west end of the field blotted out anysounds they made as they stumbled forward with their heavy burdens. Infact, it was the protection they needed to get them to within twentyyards of the Dornier. When they got that close they saw the lonemechanic standing under the right wing. He stood as though in a trance,his popping eyes fixed on the mounting flames to the west. Dave took onelook, then silently deposited von Gault on the ground. He glanced atFreddy, shook his head, and put a finger to his lips.

  One shot would take care of that Nazi mechanic, and nobody would haveheard it. But Dave couldn't bring himself to do that. The mechanic wasunarmed. It would be cold murder, and unnecessary too. And so Davesimply braced himself and then streaked those twenty yards like a cat onvelvet. He reached the mechanic, clapped a hand over his mouth, hookedthe other arm about his neck, and heaved upward and to the side. Themechanic seemed to do a beautiful swan dive through the flame-tinted airfor a moment. Then he fell down on his face, and lay there groaning, andclawing with both hands at his neck.

  Dave didn't give him a second look. He knew, from Commando training thatit would be minutes before that mechanic would have full use of his bodymuscles and brain--particularly his brain. He simply sprinted back andhoisted von Gault up again onto his shoulder, and started with himtoward the belly door of the Nazi light bomber. In the matter ofseconds, the two young Commandos had their prisoners inside the bomberand bound together for "comfort." Then they ran forward to the pilots'compartment. There Dave hesitated, but Freddy shoved him roughly intothe pilot's seat.

  "You fly, old chap!" Freddy shouted above the sound of the engines."Never cared much for the heavy stuff, anyway. Get on with it! It's yourhonor, old thing!"

  Dave didn't stop to argue. Besides, he saw grey green clad figuressweeping toward them from the west end of the field. He kicked off theDornier's wheel brakes and shoved the handle of the double throttleforward. The Daimler-Benz engines roared out their combined song ofpower and the bomber started forward. It picked up speed at a rapidrate, but its wheels were still clinging to the ground when theon-rushing Nazis veered off to the side and opened up a withering blastof machine gun and rifle fire. A million tiny cracks appeared in thecockpit windshield. And as Dave and Freddy ducked down low they heardthe metallic wasps come whining into the cockpit and tear into thepartition in back of them. And then, suddenly, the gods of good fortuneseem to release the Dornier's wheels. The plane zoomed upward under fullthrottle, and the flame-spitting machine guns and rifles fell away fromthe belly of the bomber as it mounted higher and higher into thedawn-filled sky.

  "Don't worry, bums!" Dave shouted on impulse. "We're just leaving youfor a little while. We'll be back soon. Right! Us, and the whole gang.But you'll like that less!"

  "Quite!" Freddy Farmer echoed his words. "But keep us going up, Dave.England's thirty minutes away still. Just look at that! That flame andsmoke over Le Havre way. I guess the other chaps fulfilled theirmission, too. What a mess they made of the whole attack area!"

  Dave squinted ahead at the ocean of flame and oily black smoke thattowered up above the Le Havre area. It was a horrible sight to see, butjust the same it filled him with pride and joy to be a member of a forcethat could slam into Adolf Hitler's boasted strongholds and make thatkind of a mess of things. One look at that flaming, smoking chaos and heknew that the United Nations Commando attack had been a success, inspite of what it may have cost. First Dieppe, now Le Havre. Next time,with luck, it would be all of France! All of conquered Europe!

  "Say, Freddy?" he suddenly spoke aloud. "One thing not quite clear. Justwhy did you have those two Luftwaffe pilots sent for, anyway?"

  "Don't tell me you didn't get it!" Freddy echoed with a laugh. "I shouldthink it would be obvious, now. I realize I took an awful chance, butthat was the only way I could find out. And, of course, I needed one ofthem to make the orders to start up the Dornier's engines authentic."

  "Hold everything!" Dave cried. "I get that part, sure. But what was ityou had to find out?"

  "Why, how many pilots were about, of course!" Freddy said with a chuckleand a gesture. "Would have been silly, you know, for us to kidnap vonStaube and von Gault, and then have some Jerry pilots fly off in theplanes we were going to use. That's why I asked to speak to their_pilots_. Plural, see? And--well, thank goodness there were only two atthat field. Everybody else was a ground soldier or officer. It wouldhave been frightfully
annoying if a dozen or so Jerry pilots had beenthere. My whole stunt would have gone up in smoke!"

  "Jumping catfish!" Dave breathed in awe. "So that was the reason! Yegods! Supposing there had been more than two? But I don't want even tothink of it. And I think you'd better leave that part out of yourreport, pal. Nobody would believe we had _that_ much luck. Hey! A messof R.A.F. Spitfires! Holy smoke! They don't know who we are, and--!"

  "So we'd better surrender," Freddy Farmer said quietly. "And about timewe did, too, I'm thinking. Hold her level, Dave, while I give the chapsthe surrender signal."

  Freddy shoved open the greenhouse, stood up on the seat so that he washead and shoulders in the air, and waved both arms in the well knowngesture of aerial surrender. The flock of R.A.F. Spitfires swooped down,looked them over cautiously, and then took up escorting positions as theDornier drilled on out across the Channel toward England.

  "That's what _I_ like, pal!" Dave cried happily, and motioned toward theSpitfires. "To come home in style. Aerial escort, and everything."

  "Frankly," Freddy said as a wistful expression spread over his tiredface. "Frankly, I'd like a--"

  "I know!" Dave shouted him down. "A nice pot of hot tea! With cream.Well, pal, you're going to get one. Get a thousand. For the first timeDave Dawson is going to buy all the tea he can get. But for you._Strictly for you!_ There's a limit to any friendship, my friend!"

  THE END

  * * * * *

  _A Page from_

  DAVE DAWSON ON THE RUSSIAN FRONT

  The moving dot silhouetted against the bleak, cheerless-looking sky grewbigger and bigger. Presently it ceased to be just a moving dot. It tookon the definite shape and outline of a German Messerschmitt One-Ten.Dave watched it a moment longer, and then when the Nazi craft suddenlyveered off to the west, and went streaking upward toward a brooding bankof clouds, he took a quick glance at Freddy Farmer flying just off hisright wing, and started to snap out a short burst from his guns.

  There was no need, however, to attract the English youth's attention.Freddy had already spotted the Nazi plane. In fact, he was pulling hisown ship around and up in that direction. Dave grinned, tight-lipped,and hauled his own plane around in Freddy's wake.

  "Leave it to you, Eagle Eyes, to spot things before I do," he murmuredwith a chuckle. "Okay, pal. That's our baby. This is our dish. He thinkshe's learned things, and is hurrying home to tell Uncle Goering aboutit. Well, not today, hey, Freddy?"