"It is a hoary tradition of the service that you have a promotion party."
"I have money, Sir," Delaney said.
"But thank you."
"In this case," Douglass explained, "your party will also serve to keep our young warriors on the base tonight. You will lie again. You will tell them th
at just before the colonel left for High Wycombe and the headquarters of the Eighth Air Force, he left word that twenty-four-hour passes for pilots are authorized as of--and not before--0400 tomorrow. It has been my experience that if I turn them loose after a mission like the one we flew today, they tend to behave in a manner unbefitting officers and gentlemen. And as you are about to find out, there is a good deal of paperwork involved when one of our young heroes punches out an English cop, or steals a taxicab."
"I understand, Sir," Delaney said.
"You do, Jack, you really do. That's why I gave you the job."
"I hope I can measure up to your expectations. Sir," Delaney said.
"You may leave, Major," Douglass said.
"And you may take the Scotch with you." Delaney looked surprised.
"If I took it with me," Douglass said, "I would never make it to Whithey "Thank you," Delaney said.
"By the time I get back, Jack," Douglass said, "I expect you to have made up your mind about who'll take over your squadron."
lONE]
Four men were on hand to greet Canidy, Dolan, and Darmstadter in the
B25.
One was a British officer wearing the red beret of a parachutist. The pips
of a captain were on the shoulders of a sweater. Around his neck he wore a white silk scarf. There were two other Englishmen in British uniform. They were hatless and without insignia of rank. All three of the English had Sten submachine guns. The fourth man was in civilian clothing, a tieless white shirt, a double-breasted, heavy suit jacket, and baggy, unmatching trousers.
The British officer came to attention and saluted, an almost parade-ground salute, his hand, palm outward, quivering as he touched his temple with his fingertips.
"Afternoon, gentlemen," he said casually.
"My name is Hughson. Welcome to Vis."
Canidy returned the salute.
"You're the aircraft commander, Major?
"Captain Hughson asked.
Canidy jerked his thumb upward to the cockpit of the B25G.
"Commander Dolan's the aircraft commander," he said.
"With his permission, of course," Captain Hughson said, "I would suggest the thing to do is get the aircraft under cover."
"How do we do that?" Canidy asked.
Hughson gestured toward the hillside. Darmstadter saw there was a short, steep-sided indentation in the rocky hillside, a natural revetment, and that above it were rolls of camouflage netting.
As if reading his mind, the British officer said, "Except as netting, the camouflage isn't worth a damn. Unless, of course, we wish to give the impression that a North Africa wadi has been miraculously transplanted to the island."
"What do you do?" Canidy asked, chuckling.