"F for Freddie," said the sergeant pilot, giving the fuselage a loud affectionate slap. "Been through many a long sweat, Admiral." This was how Pug found out that a Wellington bomber had a skin of fabric57. The slapped cloth sounded just like what it was. He was used to his Navy's metal aircraft. It had never occurred to him that the British could use fabric planes as attack bombers, and this piece of intelligence had not come his way, for he was not an aviator58. Victor Henry could still have walked away from the flight, but he felt as compelled to enter this cloth plane and fly over Berlin as a murderer is to climb a gallows59 to be hanged. In the sweet-smelling quiet night, plaintive60 birdsongs rose here and there, richly warbling and rolling. "Ever heard nightingales before?" said Tiny Johnson. "No, I never have." "Well, Admiral, you're hearing nightingales." Far down the field, one plane after another coughed and began to roar, shooing out flames in the darkness. A truck rolled up to F for Freddie. A mechanic plugged a cable into its fuselage. The motors caught and turned over, spitting smoke and fire, as other planes trundled to a dimly lit runway and thundered up and away into gauzy blue moonlight. Soon only F for Freddie was left, its crew still lying on the grass, its spinning motors cherry red. A.U at once the engines shut off. Pug heard nightingales again. "Eh? What now?" said Tiny. "Don't tell me we've been scrubbed, due to some splendid, lovely engine trouble?" Mechanics came trotting61 out and worked rapidly on one engine, with many a vile62 cheerful curse, their tools clanking musically in the open air. Twenty minutes after the other planes left, F for Freddie tpok off and flew out over the North Sea. After what seemed a half hour of bumping through cold air in a dark shaking machine, Pug glanced at his watch. Only seven minutes had gone by. The crew did not talk. The intercom crackled and buzzed-the helmet, unlike the rest of his clothing, was too tight and hurt his ears-but once the plane left the coast on course, the pilots and navigator shut up. Victor Henry's perspiration63 from the heavy suit cooled and dried, chilling him. His watch crawled through twenty more minutes as he sat there. The lieutenant gestured to him to look through the plexiglass blister64 where the navigator had been taking star sights, and then to stretch out prone65 in the nose bubble, the bombardier position. Pug did these things, but there was nothing to see but black water, bright moon, and jewelled stars. "Keep that light down, navigator," the lieutenant croaked66.
The sergeant who had given Pug the toilet paper was marking a chart on a tiny fold-down wooden slat, and trying to squelch67 the dim beam of an amber68 flashlight with his fingers. Crouching69 beside him, watching him struggle with star tables, star sight forms, dividers, ruler, and flashlight, Pug wondered what kind of navigational fix he could possibly come up with. The youngster gave him a harried70 grin. Pug took the flashlight from his hands and shielded the beam to strike just the chart. Peters gestured his gratitude71 and Pug squatted72 there, cramped73 in the space behind the two pilots, until the navigator had finished his work. The American had imagined that the long-range British bomber would be as big as an airliner74, with a control cabin offering ample elbow room. In fact five men sat crowded within inches of each other-the two pilots, the front gunner, the navigator, and the wireless operator. Pug could just see the gunner in the forward bubble, in faint moonlight. The others were faces floating in the glow of dials. Stumbling, crouching, grasping at guy wires, Pug dragged his parachute down the black fuselage to the bubble where the rear gunner sat. The hatless boy, his bushy hair falling in his face, gave him a thumbs-up and a pathetic smile. This was a hell of a lonely, shaky, frigid76 place to be riding, Pug thought. The bomber's tail was whipping and bouncing badly. He tried to yell over the wind noise and motor roars, then made a hopeless gesture. The boy nodded, and proudly operated his power turret77 for him. Pug groped to a clear space in the fuselage, and squatted on his parachute, hugging his knees. There was nothing to do. It was getting colder and colder. He took something from his ration bag-when he put it in his mouth he tasted chocolate-and sucked it. He dozed78. Garbled79 voices in his ear woke him. His nose was numb15, his cheeks felt frostbitten, and he was shivering. A hand in the dark tugged80 him forward. He stumbled after the vague figure toward the cockpit glow. Suddenly it was bright as day in the plane. The plane slanted81 and dived, and Pug Henry fell, bruising82 his forehead on a metal box. Rearing up on his hands and knees, he saw the bright light go out, come on and go out again as though snapped off. The plane made sickening turns one way and another while he crawled forward. Tiny Johnson, gripping the controls, turned around, and Pug saw his lips move against the microphone. "Okay, Admiral?" The voice gargled in the intercom. "Just passing the coast searchlight belt." 'Okay," Henry said. The helmeted lieutenant threw a tight grim glance over his shoulder at Henry, then stared ahead into the night, Tiny waved a gloved hand ai a fixture83 labelled OXYGIEN. "Plug in, andcome and have a look." Sucking on rubber-tasting enriched air, Pug crawled into the bombardier position. Instead of sparkling sea he saw land grayed over by moonlight. The searchlight beams waved behind them. Straight below, tiny yellow lights winked84. Red and orange bags came floating slowly and gently up from these lights, speeding and getting bigger as they rose. A few burst and showered red streaks85 and sparks. Several balls passed ahead of the plane and on either side of it, flashing upward in blurry86 streaks of color. The voice of Tiny said, "Coast flak was heavier last time." just as he said this something purple-white and painfully brilliant exploded in Victor Henry's face. Blackness ensued, then a dance of green circles. Pug Henry lay with his face pressed to cold plexiglass, sucking on the oxygen tube, stunned87 and blind. A hand grasped his. The voice of Peters, the navigator, rattled88 in his ear. "That was a magnesium89 flash shell. Ruddy close, Admiral. Are you all right?" "I can't see." "It'll take a while. Sit up, sir." The plane ground ahead, the blindness persisted and persisted, then the green circles jerked in a brightening red mist. A picture gradually faded in like a movie scene: faces lit by dials and the glimmering90 moonlight. Until his vision returned, Victor Henry spent nasty minutes wondering whether it would. Ahead he saw clouds, the first of this trip, billowing up under the moon. The navigator spoke91. "Should be seeing beams and flak now." "Nothing," said Lieutenant Killian. "Black night." "I've got Berlin bearing dead ahead at thirty miles, sir." "Something's wrong. Probably your wind drift again." "D.F. bearings check out, sir." "Well, damn it, Peters, that doesn't put Berlin up ahead." The skipper sounded annoyed but unworried. "It looks like solid forest down there, clear across the horizon. Featureless and black." Tiny Johnson observed bitterly that on his last raid almost half of the planes had failed altogether to find Berlin, and that none of Bomber Command's official navigational procedures were worth a shit.
He added that he was brassed off. The piping voice of the rear gunner broke in to report searchlights far astern, off to the right. At almost the same moment, the pilots saw, and pointed92 out to Victor Henry, a large fire on the horizon ahead: a yellow blotch93 flickering94 on the moonlit plain. After some crisp talk on the intercom, Lieutenant Killian swung the plane around and headed for the searchlights; as for the fire, his guess was that another bomber had overshot the mark and then gone ahead and bombed the wrong target. "That's Berlin," he soon said, pointing a mittened95 hand at the lights, "All kinds of fireworks shooting off. Well done Reynolds. How goes it back there? The high strained voice of the rear gunner replied, "Oh, I'm fine, sir. This operational stuff's the real thing, isn't it?" As they neared Berlin, the nose gunner was silhouetted96 black by exploding balls and streaks of color, and fanning rays of blue light. Tiny's voice in the intercom rasped, "Those poor bastards who got there first are catching97 the heat blisters98." The lieutenant's voice came, easy and slow: "It looks worse than it is, Admiral. The stuff spreads apart once you're in it. The sky's a roomy place, actually." F for Freddie went sailing into the beautiful, terrible display, and as the captain had said, it thinned out. The searchlight beams scattered99 and ran down to the l,it and right. The streaks and balls of flak left great holes of darkness through which the plane bored smoothly100 ahead. The captain and the navigator talked rapidly in fliers' jargon101. it See that fire off there, Admiral? Some other chaps have pretty well obbered the primary target," said Killian. "Or at least dropped a lot of bombs in the vicinity," Tiny said. "I can't make out a damned thing for the smoke." The view below was half moonlit clouds, half black city flickering with anti-aircraft flashes. Pug Henry saw a peculiar102 high column of flickers103 -the Flakturm, that must be-and, in another direction, an irregular blob of fire and smoke enveloping104 buildings and smokestacks, near the river curling silver through Berlin. The black puffs and fiery105 streaks of the flak slid past F for Freddie, but the plane plowed106 ahead as though protected by a chartn. The captain said, "Well, I'm going for secondary. Course, navigator." Shortly thereafter the motor noise ceased. The nose of the plane dipped way down. The sudden quiet was a big surprise. "Gliding107 approach, Admiral," the captain's voice gargled. "They control their lights and flakwith listening devices. Navigator's got to take your place now." The plane whiffled earthward. Pug made his way to the rear gunner, who was looking down with saucer eyes in a pallid baby face at the moonlit German capital, and at the anti-aircraft winking108 like fireflies. A rush Of icy air and a roar followed the captain's order, "Open bomb bay." Into the plane a strong acrid109 smell poured, and Pug had a mental flash of gunnery exercises on a sunny blue sea near green islands. Off Manila or over Berlin, cordite smelled the same. The navigator kept talking in a drilled cheerful tone: "Left, left. too much... right... dead on -no, left, left... smack110 on. Smack on. Smack on. There!" The plane jumped. Pug saw the bombs raggedly111 f2ll away behind them, a string of black tumbling sticks. The airplane slanted up, the motors came bellowing112 on, and they climbed. Below, a string of small red explosions appeared alongside the buildings and the huge fat gas-storage tower. Pug thought the bonbs had missed. Then, in the blink of an eye, yellow-white flame with a green core came blasting and billowing up from the ground, almost to the height of the climbing plane, but well behind. In the gigantic flare3, the city of Berlin was suddenly starkly113 visible, spread out below like a picture postcard printed with too much yellow ink-the Kurfiirstendamm, Unter den2 Linden, the Brandenburg Gate, the Tiergarten, the river, the bridges, the Flakturm, the chancellery, the Opera-clear, sharp, close, undamaged, peculiarly yellow. The cheers in the intercom hurt his ears. He seized his microphone and gave a rebel yell. As he did so, F for Freddie was transfixed by half a dozen searchlights that swung and stopped. In the gunner's bubble all was blue radiance. The boy looked horror-stricken at Pug and suddenly started to scream in fright, his eyes tight shut, his mouth wide open. There was so much noise that Pug could hardly hear him. It looked like a painted scream, and in the blue light the boy's tongue and gums were black. The plane seemed to have landed on a shining blue pyramid. The motors howled, the machine lurched, dived, sideslipped, but the pyramid stayed locked under it. Pug seized the gun mount with both arms to steady himself.The gunner fell against the mount, knocking the microphone away from his open mouth. His clamor ceased in the intercom, and Pug heard Lieutenant Kirlian and Tiny talking in brisk controlled voices. A mass of orange and red balls lazily left the ground and floated up directly at F for Freddie. They came faster. They burst all around, a shower of fire, a barrage115 of explosions. Pug felt a hard thump22, heard the motor change sound, heard a fearful whistling. ky air blasted at him. Fragments rattled all over the plane, and F for Freddie heeled over in a curving dive. Victor Henry believed that he was going to die. The plane shrieked116 and horribly shuddered117, diving steeply. Both pilots were shouting now, not in panic but to make themselves heard, and through the frail118 plexiglass bubble Henry stared at the fabric wings, waiting for them to break off, Butter away, and signal the end of his life.
All at once the screeching119, whistling blue pyramid turned black. The dizzying swoops120 and slips stopped, the plane flew straight. Pug caught a whiff of vomit121. The gunner had fainted, and the puke was dribbling122 from his mouth in the moonlight and rolling down his chest: chocolate, coffee, bits of orange. The boy had eaten his whole ration. Out of the left leg of his flying suit black blood welled. Pug tried the intercom, but the crackling in his ears had stopped. The system was dead. The stricken plane lurched on in a tumult123 of wind roars and bowls. He went forward, clutching the guy ropes, and ran headon into a figure who shouted that he was Peters. Pug screamed in his car that Reynolds was wounded, and moved on to the cockpit, passing a ragged75 flapping hole in the starboard fuselage through which he could see the stars. Mechanically he noted124 the form of the Dipper. They were heading west, back to England. their controls. Tiny In the cockpit the pilots sat as before, busy at shouted, "Ah, Admiral. We're going home to tea. To hell with ruddy pictures. You'll tell them you saw that gas plant go up, won't you?" "Damn right I will. How's the airplane?" "The port engine was hit, but it's still pulling. Heading back over land, in case we have to come down. Looks like we can make it, unless that engine completely packs up." "Your rear gunner's got a leg wound. Navigator's back there with him." The swinging searchlights of the outer belt loomed125 ahead, probing the clouds, but F for Freddie climbed into the overcast126 undetected. Tiny bellowed127 at Victor Henry, his big blue eyes rolling, both hands on the wheel, "Ruddy asinine128 way to make a living, isn't it, Admiral? Brassed off, I am. Should have joined the ruddy navy!" Pulling off his helmet, Lieutenant Kirlian turned over control to Tiny, and wiped his face with a big white handkerchief no whiter than his skin. He gave the American a tired smile, his forehead a mass of wrinkled lines. "It may close at that, Admiral. We're having a bit of trouble holding altitude. How's your French?" AMELAhad remained in London. She knew it was a night bombing mission and she knew the distances. It was not hard to calculate when Victor Henry would be getting back. At ten in the morning she went to his Hat-it had no other occupant for the moment-and persuaded the charwoman to let her in. She sat inthe untidy living room, trying to read a newspaper, but actually only counting the minutes and praying that he was still alive. Pug Henry had entered her life at a dark time. Her parents had been divorced before she was fourteen. Her mother had remarried, made a new life, and shut her out. Alistair Tudsbury had deposited her in schools vhile he travelled. She had grown up well-mannered, attractive, but almost wild, and had had several love affairs before she was out of her teens. In her early twenties she had met Philip Rule, a tall golden-haired newspaper correspondent, who had for a while shared Leslie Slote's flat in Paris. An ice-cold man with beguiling129 ways, a rich How of clever talk, and corrupt130 tastes, Rule had bit by bit destroyed her ambition, her selfconfidence, and almost her will to live. She had fought off suicidal depression by breaking off with him at last and going to work as her father's slave; and as such, she had encountered Victor and Rhoda Henry on the Bremen. She had never met a man quite like Commander Henry: remote, taciturn, apparently an old-fashioned narrow professional, yet incisive131 and engaging. She had found him attractive from the start, and had come to like him more and more. Aboard ship, such attractions take on an unreal intensity132, but usually fade fast on dry land. For Pamela the feeling had only grown stronger on seeing him again in Berlin. There she had sensed that Pug was beginning to like her, too. But the start of the war had broken their contact, except for the momentary133 encounter in Washington. When Victor Henry arrived in London, Pamela had been quite ready to marry the fighter pilot; and this visit of the older man who had be-en something like a shipboard crush had not changed that. But since then Gallard had vanished, and she had had two weeks with Pug. In wartime, as on board ship, relationships deepen fast. Nothing had yet happened between them. He had awkwardly put an arm around her while watching the German bombers come in; that was all. But Pamela now thought that, whatever the views and scruples134 of this very married man, she could go to bed with him if she pleased, and when she pleased. Still, Pam had no intention of enticing135 Captain Henry into what he termed a "shack136-up." Blinker Vance, in Henry's disapproving137 view, was snacked up with Lady Maude Northwood, though the shack was one of the most elegant flats in Mayfair and Lady Maude, if somewhat horsefaced, was a clever and charming woman. Pamela didn't in the least believe in Victor Henry's morality. She thought it was a crust of cramping138 nonsense that stopped her from giving the lonely man and herself pleasure. But that was how he was. She was detern-dned above all things not to upset or repel139 him; rather, to let matters take their course. Almost exactly at noon the key turned in the lock. As Pug let himself in, he could hear the noonday news broadcast echoing in the flat. He called, 'Hello, who's here?" Steps clicked in the living room. The girl struck him like a blue projectile140. "Oh, my God, you came back.""What the devil?" Victor Henry managed to say between kisses. "What are you doing here?" 'I'm absent without leave. I shall be court-martialled and shot. I should have sat here for a week. Your charwoman let me in. Ahhh!" With growls141 Of Pleasure, she kissed him again and again. Disorganized enough before this surprise, Pug dazedly142 kissed her back, not quite believing what was happening. Pam said, "Good heavens, Captain Henry, you do reek143 of rum." "That's the debriefing144. They give you a big breakfast and lots of rum and you talk." He had difficulty getting this out, because Pamela kept kissing him. Dead on his feet as he was, he nevertheless began on instinct to respond to this eager aroused girl clinging to him. He realized foggily, as he pulled her close and returned her kisses, that at this rate he was soon going to take her to bed. He was caught by surprise and had no impulse to stop, strange and drea-like as it all was. He was hours away from a brush with death, and still numb and stunned. "Well, how about this?" he said hoarsely145. "The conquering hero's reward, hey?" She was covering his face with soft slow kisses. She leaned back in his arms, looking into his eyes. "Just so. Exactly." "Well, I didn't do a goddamned thing except take up space, burn up gasoline, and get in everybody's way. However, thank you, Pam. You're beautiful and sweet, and this welcome makes me feel great." His evident exhaustion146, his clumsy moves, his comical indecisiveness about what to do next with this unfamiliar female body in his arms, caused a wave of deep tenderness to go through her. "You look absolutely drained," she said, stepping free. "Totally wrung147 out. Was it very bad?" "It was long." "Want a drink? Some food?" "A drink, I guess. I feel okay, but I'd better get some sleep." "So I figured." She led him to the darkened bedroom. The bed was turned down, his pajamas148 laid out. She took her time about mixing the drink, and when she came back to the bedroom he was asleep. On the floor, uncharacteristically dumped, lay the tweed suit that Aircraftsman Horton had missed out on. The hand on his shoulder was gently persistent149. "Captain Henry! It's five o'clock. You've had a call from the embassy." He opened his eyes. "What? What embassy?" It took him a few seconds to recollect150 where he was, and why Pamela Tudsbury was standing151 over him in uniform, with a smile so intimate and bright. In his dream he had been back in F for Freddie, fumbling152 and fumbling for a cloth to wipe the vomit off the poor rear gunner; thehallucinatory stench was still in his nostrils153. He sat up and sniffed154. A delicious odor of broiling155 meat floated through the open door, erasing156 the dream smell. "What's that?" "I thought you'd be hungry by now." "But where'd you get food? There's nothing in that icebox but beer and club soda157." 'Went out and bought it." He tried to shock himself awake with a cold shower, but still had a feeling, as he shaved and dressed, of stumbling through dreams within dreams. He could not get used to the wonder of being alive in normal circumstances. A dim recollection of Pamela's ardent158 welcome added to that wonder. "What the Sam Hill!" he said. "Where and how did you get all this?" The salads, the bowl of fruit, the long bread, and the bottle of red wine made an attractive clutter159 on the small table. She was humming in the kitchen. She said, entering with steaks on two plates, "Oh, I'm a London alley160 cat, I know where to forage161. Sit down and get at this. The oven's really not very good, but I've done my best." He cut into the meat and took a hot mouthful. The bread broke soft AL and crusty; the heavy wine was delicious. Pug Henry fell to with the gusto of a boy borne from tobogganing. Pamela cut herself a piece of steak and ate it, not taking her eyes off Victor Henry as he wolfed the food. "Well," she said. "Rather hungry at that, weren't you?" 'A"Y, this is Marvelous. It's the best meat, the best wine, the best bread I've ever eaten." "You exaggerate, but I'm glad you're enjoying it. I'm trying to make up for the stupid way I acted before you left." 'Tam, I'm glad I went. That was the right decision." "Oh, now that you're back, there's no argument. My apologies." Victor Henry put down his knife and fork. All his senses were newedged. To his eyes, Pamela TudsbuWs face radiated remarkable162 beauty and sweetness. He experienced a pleasant quake in all his nerves, remembering vividly163 their stunning164 kisses at the door. "You're forgiven." "Good." She drank wine, looking at him over the edge of the glass. "Do you know that I fell for you on the Bremen? Did you have any inIding of it? In Berlin I was hard put to it not to try my luck with you. But I knew it was impossible. You're so devoted165 to your wife.""Yes indeed," Pug said. "Rock of Gibraltar. I guess I'm dumb, but I hadn't the slightest notion of that, Pamela." "Well, it's true. I'd been in rotten shape for a couple of years. It did me good to be,able to like a man so much. I proceeded to go mad over Ted shortly thereafter." A shadow of sadness flickered166 across her face. 'When you opened the door a few hours ago, I came close to believing in God. There's strawberry tart114 for dessert." "You're kidding." "I'm not kidding. I passed a pastrycook's and the tarts167 looked good." He reached out and took her slim wrist. Her skin felt as sweet to his blunt fingers as her lips had felt on his mouth. "Pam, I've developed a high regard for a London alley cat, myself." "I'm glad. I should be sorry to think that my great passion was totally unrequited, If you'll unhand me, I'll serve your strawberry tart and coffee-It's getting on for six. Captain Vance was most insistent168 that you be at the embassy by six-thirty." "What will you do? Go back to Uxbridge?" 'What will you do? That's what matters." "First I have to find out what Blinker wants." "Shall I wait for your call at my flat?" "Yes, Pam. Please do that." They parted on the sidewalk. He kept glancing back over his shoulder at the dwindling169 figure in blue, marching among the pedestrians170 NAtb that odd swing he had first noticed on the Bremen-just another perky little W.A.A.F among the thousands in London. He felt reborn. He smiled at people he passed on the street, and they smiled back. The young girls appeared seductive as starlets; the older women were full of grace. The men were all great good fellows, the slopeshouldered pale clerks with briefcases171 and bowler172 hats-no less than the passing soldiers, the withered173 gray men, and the purple-faced fat men in tweed. They all had the stuff that he had seen at the Biggin Hill dispersal hut and in F for Freddie. They were Englishmen, the happy breed. The sunlight dappling the leaves in Grosvenor Square was golden, the leaves were fresh green, and the sky was the blue of a W.A.A.F uniform. What a world! What an idiocy174 in these Europeans to dump tiro-and explosives on each other's habitations, built with such hard work! All things were washed clean, or at least he was seeing them with a child's clear inquisitive175 eye-a shiny automobile176, a shop-window dummy177, a box of red geraniums on a windowsill. He noticed that the sidewalk gave off tiny sparkles in the late sunlight.
The American flag fluttering from the second story of the embassy struck Pug with a pang178 of pride. Its red, white, and blue seemed so rich, its slow waving so of majesty179, that a sixty-piece orchestra might have been playing "The star-spangled Banner'; but there was no orchestra in the square, only discordant180 loud traffic noise. He sat on a bench for a moment looking at the flag, suffused181 with zest182 for life and a burning wish to live a long time yet in this radiant world through which he had been walking blind as a bat. This grim stocky obscure American Navy captain sat bemused on a London park bench, undergoing an exaltation for which he finally found the name. At first he had thought his exhilarated mood was the snapback from the bombing mission, the plain joy of being alive after brushing death in a diving plane, in a whirl of blue cones183 and exploding colored balls. But it was something more. Nothing like this had happened to him in twenty-five years, and he had not expected it ever to happen again, so recognizing it had taken him this long. Nothing could be simpler. He had fallen in love. A black Cadillac pulled up at the embassy door and discharged an admiral whom Pug recognized, two Army generals, and Blinker Vance. Pug hastened across the street. "Hey, Pug!" Admiral Benton offered a fat hand. This holy terror, his old boss at War Plans, was a short rotund man with a shiny round face and a bald round head. Pug liked him, despite his short temper, because he was a smart and driving worker, wasted no words, admitted ignorance, too, and took blame when the blame was his. He was a gunnery expert the Navy's best. His weakness was opinionated political theorizing; he thought the New Deal was a Communist plot. Blinker Vance brought the four men to a quiet second-floor conference room panelled in cherry wood. He left. They sat themselves at one end of a long polished table lined with twenty chairs upholstered in blue leather. Admiral Benton took the head, with the two generals on either side of him and Pug below the younger-looking one. "Now goddamn it, Pug," Benton began, "the ambassador says if he'd known about this observer flight of yours, he'd have stopped you. He's dead right. We don't want to give the Army and its Air Corps184"-he gestured at the other men-"the idea that the Navy trains goofy daredevils." Benton sounded very pleased with Pug. "These gentlemen and I have been waiting for you to get back from that blamed fool excursion. This is General Anderson, and General Fitzgerald here is Army Air Corps." Benton glanced at the others. "Well, shall we get at it?" General Fitzgerald, who sat beside Pug, danced long lean fingers together. He had wavy185 blond hair and a handsome thin face; he might have been an artist or an actor, except for the stone-hard look in his pale blue eyes. "Admiral, I'd like to hear about the captain's bomber ride myself." "So would I," said Anderson. Victor Henry now recognized him as Train Anderson, a West Point football star of around igio. Anderson was heavy and jowly, and his thin hair was smoothed tight on a pink scalp. Victor Henry narrated186 his bomber adventure in a matter-of-fact way.
"Great!" Benton burst out when Pug came to the explosion of the gasworks. The three senior officers listened tensely to the account of his return trip in a damaged aircraft; the jettisoning187 of all removable weight to maintain altitude; the final thirty miles flown at a few hundred feet. When Pug finished, Train Anderson lit a cigar and leaned back on a thick elbow. "Quite a yarn188, Captain. It amounted to a token bombing though, didn't it? Berlin sounds untouched, compared to this place. You've been to the docks I presume?" 'Yes, sir." 'We toured them today. The Germans are making mincemeat of the are a. At this rate, in a week London will cease to be a port. Then NA,hat appens? Famine? Plague?" "That's a big dock area," Pug said. "Their repair and fire-fighting crews are good, General. Things look worse than they are." The Air Corps general laced his fingers daintily together. "Have you been in the public shelters, Henry? We visited one during a raid. Nothing but a shallow cement hole. A hit would have killed everybody. All stinking189 of unwashed bodies and urine, all jammed with nervous, jittery190 old folks and crying kids. Big crayon scrawl191 on the ceiling, This is a Jew War. We visited the underground, too, last night. A mob of people sleeping on the tracks and the platforms, a sanitation192 nightmare, a setup for an outbreak of typhus." 'Sickness and casualties are running far under their estimates, sir," Pug said. 'There are thousands of empty hospital beds." "So this man Vance told us," put in Anderson. "Well, they'll fill 'em. Now, Captain Henry, you've been an observer here, and you've been sending optimistic reports to the President recommending all-out assistance." "Not wholly optimistic, sir, but recommending full assistance, yes." "Possibly you're a bit out of touch with what's happening on the other side of the water. So let me read you something. It's from the Saint Louis Post-Dispatch, a red-hot New Deal paper." He tookout his wallet, unfolded a neatly193 cut newspaper capping, and intoned through his nose: "Mr. Roosevelt today committed an act of war, turning over to a -warring power a goodly portion of the United States Navy. We get in exchange Imes an British possessions. What good will these es be if Hitler should acquire title to these islands by right of conquest? Of all sucker real estate deals in history, this is the worst. If Mr. Roosevelt gets away with this, we may as well say good-bye to our liberties and make up our minds that kenceforth we live under a dictatorship.
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bastards
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| 私生子( bastard的名词复数 )； 坏蛋； 讨厌的事物； 麻烦事 （认为别人走运或不幸时说）家伙 | |
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den
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| n.兽穴；秘密地方；安静的小房间，私室 | |
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flare
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| v.闪耀，闪烁；n.潮红；突发 | |
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Flared
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| adj. 端部张开的, 爆发的, 加宽的, 漏斗式的 动词flare的过去式和过去分词 | |
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bomber
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| n.轰炸机，投弹手，投掷炸弹者 | |
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bombers
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| n.轰炸机( bomber的名词复数 )；投弹手；安非他明胶囊；大麻叶香烟 | |
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plunging
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| adj.跳进的，突进的v.颠簸( plunge的现在分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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8
fugitive
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| adj.逃亡的，易逝的；n.逃犯，逃亡者 | |
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9
inviting
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| adj.诱人的，引人注目的 | |
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10
ted
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| vt.翻晒，撒，撒开 | |
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11
tingle
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| vi.感到刺痛，感到激动；n.刺痛，激动 | |
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12
spine
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| n.脊柱，脊椎；(动植物的)刺；书脊 | |
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13
rigors
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| 严格( rigor的名词复数 )； 严酷； 严密； （由惊吓或中毒等导致的身体）僵直 | |
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ass
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| n.驴；傻瓜，蠢笨的人 | |
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15
numb
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| adj.麻木的，失去感觉的；v.使麻木 | |
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16
bin
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| n.箱柜；vt.放入箱内；[计算机] DOS文件名:二进制目标文件 | |
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17
taut
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| adj.拉紧的，绷紧的，紧张的 | |
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18
idiotic
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| adj.白痴的 | |
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19
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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20
naval
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| adj.海军的，军舰的，船的 | |
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21
miserably
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| adv.痛苦地；悲惨地；糟糕地；极度地 | |
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22
thump
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| v.重击，砰然地响；n.重击，重击声 | |
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23
thumped
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| v.重击， （指心脏）急速跳动( thump的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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24
hipped
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| adj.着迷的，忧郁的 | |
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25
frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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26
puffs
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| n.吸( puff的名词复数 )；（烟斗或香烟的）一吸；一缕（烟、蒸汽等）；（呼吸或风的）呼v.使喷出( puff的第三人称单数 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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27
taunt
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| n.辱骂，嘲弄；v.嘲弄 | |
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28
thumping
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| adj.重大的，巨大的；重击的；尺码大的；极好的adv.极端地；非常地v.重击(thump的现在分词)；狠打；怦怦地跳；全力支持 | |
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29
remarkably
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| ad.不同寻常地，相当地 | |
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30
greasy
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| adj. 多脂的，油脂的 | |
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31
poked
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| v.伸出( poke的过去式和过去分词 )；戳出；拨弄；与（某人）性交 | |
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32
unfamiliar
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| adj.陌生的，不熟悉的 | |
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33
straps
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| n.带子( strap的名词复数 )；挎带；肩带；背带v.用皮带捆扎( strap的第三人称单数 )；用皮带抽打；包扎；给…打绷带 | |
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34
laundered
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| v.洗（衣服等），洗烫（衣服等）( launder的过去式和过去分词 )；洗（黑钱）（把非法收入改头换面，变为貌似合法的收入） | |
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35
mutual
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| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
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36
wryly
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| adv. 挖苦地，嘲弄地 | |
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37
pallid
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| adj.苍白的，呆板的 | |
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38
attentive
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| adj.注意的，专心的；关心(别人)的，殷勤的 | |
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39
opposition
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| n.反对，敌对 | |
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40
hips
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| abbr.high impact polystyrene 高冲击强度聚苯乙烯，耐冲性聚苯乙烯n.臀部( hip的名词复数 )；[建筑学]屋脊；臀围（尺寸）；臀部…的 | |
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41
offhand
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| adj.临时，无准备的；随便，马虎的 | |
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42
prudent
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| adj.谨慎的，有远见的，精打细算的 | |
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43
promotion
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| n.提升，晋级；促销，宣传 | |
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44
sergeant
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| n.警官，中士 | |
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45
lockers
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| n.寄物柜( locker的名词复数 ) | |
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46
ration
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| n.定量(pl.)给养，口粮；vt.定量供应 | |
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47
wimpy
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| adj.懦弱的，无用的，哭哭啼啼的 | |
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48
lieutenant
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| n.陆军中尉，海军上尉；代理官员，副职官员 | |
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49
furrowed
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| v.犁田，开沟( furrow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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50
barges
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| 驳船( barge的名词复数 ) | |
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51
pouch
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| n.小袋，小包，囊状袋；vt.装...入袋中，用袋运输；vi.用袋送信件 | |
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52
wireless
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| adj.无线的；n.无线电 | |
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53
pimply
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| adj.肿泡的；有疙瘩的；多粉刺的；有丘疹的 | |
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54
jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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55
apprehensive
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| adj.担心的，恐惧的，善于领会的 | |
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56
adventurous
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| adj.爱冒险的；惊心动魄的，惊险的，刺激的 | |
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57
fabric
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| n.织物，织品，布；构造，结构，组织 | |
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58
aviator
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| n.飞行家，飞行员 | |
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59
gallows
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| n.绞刑架，绞台 | |
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60
plaintive
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| adj.可怜的，伤心的 | |
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61
trotting
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| 小跑，急走( trot的现在分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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62
vile
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| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
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63
perspiration
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| n.汗水；出汗 | |
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64
blister
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| n.水疱；(油漆等的)气泡；v.(使)起泡 | |
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65
prone
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| adj.(to)易于…的，很可能…的；俯卧的 | |
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66
croaked
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| v.呱呱地叫( croak的过去式和过去分词 )；用粗的声音说 | |
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67
squelch
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| v.压制，镇压；发吧唧声 | |
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68
amber
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| n.琥珀；琥珀色；adj.琥珀制的 | |
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69
crouching
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
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70
harried
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| v.使苦恼( harry的过去式和过去分词 )；不断烦扰；一再袭击；侵扰 | |
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71
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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72
squatted
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| v.像动物一样蹲下( squat的过去式和过去分词 )；非法擅自占用（土地或房屋）；为获得其所有权；而占用某片公共用地。 | |
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73
cramped
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| a.狭窄的 | |
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74
airliner
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| n.客机，班机 | |
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75
ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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76
frigid
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| adj.寒冷的，凛冽的；冷淡的；拘禁的 | |
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77
turret
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| n.塔楼，角塔 | |
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78
dozed
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| v.打盹儿，打瞌睡( doze的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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79
garbled
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| adj.（指信息）混乱的，引起误解的v.对（事实）歪曲，对（文章等）断章取义，窜改( garble的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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80
tugged
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| v.用力拉，使劲拉，猛扯( tug的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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81
slanted
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| 有偏见的； 倾斜的 | |
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82
bruising
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| adj.殊死的；十分激烈的v.擦伤(bruise的现在分词形式) | |
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83
fixture
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| n.固定设备；预定日期；比赛时间；定期存款 | |
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84
winked
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| v.使眼色( wink的过去式和过去分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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85
streaks
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| n.（与周围有所不同的）条纹( streak的名词复数 )；（通常指不好的）特征（倾向）；（不断经历成功或失败的）一段时期v.快速移动( streak的第三人称单数 )；使布满条纹 | |
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86
blurry
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| adj.模糊的；污脏的，污斑的 | |
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87
stunned
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| adj. 震惊的，惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
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88
rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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89
magnesium
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| n.镁 | |
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90
glimmering
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| n.微光，隐约的一瞥adj.薄弱地发光的v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的现在分词 ) | |
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91
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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92
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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93
blotch
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| n.大斑点；红斑点；v.使沾上污渍，弄脏 | |
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94
flickering
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| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
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95
mittened
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| v.（使）变得潮湿，变得湿润( moisten的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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96
silhouetted
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| 显出轮廓的，显示影像的 | |
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97
catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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98
blisters
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| n.水疱( blister的名词复数 )；水肿；气泡 | |
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99
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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100
smoothly
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| adv.平滑地，顺利地，流利地，流畅地 | |
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101
jargon
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| n.术语，行话 | |
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102
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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103
flickers
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| 电影制片业； （通常指灯光）闪烁，摇曳( flicker的名词复数 ) | |
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104
enveloping
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| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的现在分词 ) | |
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105
fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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106
plowed
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| v.耕( plow的过去式和过去分词 )；犁耕；费力穿过 | |
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107
gliding
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| v. 滑翔 adj. 滑动的 | |
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108
winking
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| n.瞬眼，目语v.使眼色( wink的现在分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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109
acrid
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| adj.辛辣的，尖刻的，刻薄的 | |
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110
smack
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| vt.拍，打，掴；咂嘴；vi.含有…意味；n.拍 | |
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111
raggedly
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| 破烂地，粗糙地 | |
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112
bellowing
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| v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的现在分词 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
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113
starkly
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| adj. 变硬了的,完全的 adv. 完全,实在,简直 | |
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114
tart
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| adj.酸的；尖酸的，刻薄的；n.果馅饼；淫妇 | |
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115
barrage
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| n.火力网，弹幕 | |
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116
shrieked
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| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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117
shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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118
frail
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| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
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119
screeching
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| v.发出尖叫声( screech的现在分词 )；发出粗而刺耳的声音；高叫 | |
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120
swoops
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| 猛扑，突然下降( swoop的名词复数 ) | |
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121
vomit
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| v.呕吐，作呕；n.呕吐物，吐出物 | |
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122
dribbling
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| n.（燃料或油从系统内）漏泄v.流口水( dribble的现在分词 )；（使液体）滴下或作细流；运球，带球 | |
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123
tumult
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| n.喧哗；激动，混乱；吵闹 | |
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124
noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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125
loomed
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| v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的过去式和过去分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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126
overcast
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| adj.阴天的，阴暗的，愁闷的；v.遮盖，（使）变暗，包边缝；n.覆盖，阴天 | |
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127
bellowed
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| v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的过去式和过去分词 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
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128
asinine
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| adj.愚蠢的 | |
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129
beguiling
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| adj.欺骗的，诱人的v.欺骗( beguile的现在分词 )；使陶醉；使高兴；消磨（时间等） | |
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130
corrupt
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| v.贿赂，收买；adj.腐败的，贪污的 | |
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131
incisive
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| adj.敏锐的，机敏的，锋利的，切入的 | |
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132
intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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133
momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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134
scruples
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| n.良心上的不安( scruple的名词复数 )；顾虑，顾忌v.感到于心不安，有顾忌( scruple的第三人称单数 ) | |
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135
enticing
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| adj.迷人的；诱人的 | |
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136
shack
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| adj.简陋的小屋，窝棚 | |
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137
disapproving
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| adj.不满的，反对的v.不赞成( disapprove的现在分词 ) | |
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138
cramping
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| 图像压缩 | |
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139
repel
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| v.击退，抵制，拒绝，排斥 | |
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140
projectile
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| n.投射物，发射体；adj.向前开进的；推进的；抛掷的 | |
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141
growls
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的第三人称单数 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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142
dazedly
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| 头昏眼花地，眼花缭乱地，茫然地 | |
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143
reek
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| v.发出臭气；n.恶臭 | |
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144
debriefing
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| n.任务报告，任务报告中提出的情报v.向（外交人员等）询问执行任务的情况( debrief的现在分词 ) | |
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145
hoarsely
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| adv.嘶哑地 | |
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146
exhaustion
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| n.耗尽枯竭，疲惫，筋疲力尽，竭尽，详尽无遗的论述 | |
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147
wrung
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| 绞( wring的过去式和过去分词 )； 握紧（尤指别人的手）； 把（湿衣服）拧干； 绞掉（水） | |
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148
pajamas
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| n.睡衣裤 | |
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149
persistent
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| adj.坚持不懈的，执意的；持续的 | |
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150
recollect
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| v.回忆，想起，记起，忆起，记得 | |
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151
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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152
fumbling
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| n. 摸索,漏接 v. 摸索,摸弄,笨拙的处理 | |
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153
nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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154
sniffed
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| v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的过去式和过去分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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155
broiling
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| adj.酷热的，炽热的，似烧的v.（用火）烤（焙、炙等）( broil的现在分词 )；使卷入争吵；使混乱；被烤（或炙） | |
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156
erasing
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| v.擦掉( erase的现在分词 )；抹去；清除 | |
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157
soda
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| n.苏打水；汽水 | |
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158
ardent
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，强烈的，烈性的 | |
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159
clutter
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| n.零乱，杂乱；vt.弄乱，把…弄得杂乱 | |
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160
alley
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| n.小巷，胡同；小径，小路 | |
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161
forage
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| n.(牛马的)饲料，粮草；v.搜寻，翻寻 | |
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162
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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163
vividly
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| adv.清楚地，鲜明地，生动地 | |
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164
stunning
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| adj.极好的；使人晕倒的 | |
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165
devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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166
flickered
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| （通常指灯光）闪烁，摇曳( flicker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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167
tarts
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| n.果馅饼( tart的名词复数 )；轻佻的女人；妓女；小妞 | |
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168
insistent
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| adj.迫切的，坚持的 | |
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169
dwindling
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| adj.逐渐减少的v.逐渐变少或变小( dwindle的现在分词 ) | |
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170
pedestrians
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| n.步行者( pedestrian的名词复数 ) | |
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171
briefcases
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| n.公文[事]包( briefcase的名词复数 ) | |
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172
bowler
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| n.打保龄球的人，（板球的）投（球）手 | |
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173
withered
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| adj. 枯萎的，干瘪的，（人身体的部分器官）因病萎缩的或未发育良好的 动词wither的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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174
idiocy
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| n.愚蠢 | |
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175
inquisitive
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| adj.求知欲强的，好奇的，好寻根究底的 | |
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176
automobile
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| n.汽车，机动车 | |
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177
dummy
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| n.假的东西；(哄婴儿的)橡皮奶头 | |
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178
pang
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| n.剧痛，悲痛，苦闷 | |
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179
majesty
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| n.雄伟，壮丽，庄严，威严；最高权威，王权 | |
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180
discordant
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| adj.不调和的 | |
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181
suffused
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| v.（指颜色、水气等）弥漫于，布满( suffuse的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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182
zest
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| n.乐趣；滋味，风味；兴趣 | |
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183
cones
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| n.（人眼）圆锥细胞；圆锥体( cone的名词复数 )；球果；圆锥形东西；（盛冰淇淋的）锥形蛋卷筒 | |
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184
corps
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| n.(通信等兵种的)部队；(同类作的)一组 | |
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185
wavy
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| adj.有波浪的，多浪的，波浪状的，波动的，不稳定的 | |
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186
narrated
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| v.故事( narrate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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187
jettisoning
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| v.抛弃，丢弃( jettison的现在分词 )；投下 | |
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188
yarn
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| n.纱，纱线，纺线；奇闻漫谈，旅行轶事 | |
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189
stinking
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| adj.臭的，烂醉的，讨厌的v.散发出恶臭( stink的现在分词 )；发臭味；名声臭；糟透 | |
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190
jittery
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| adj. 神经过敏的, 战战兢兢的 | |
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191
scrawl
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| vt.潦草地书写；n.潦草的笔记，涂写 | |
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192
sanitation
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| n.公共卫生，环境卫生，卫生设备 | |
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193
neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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