it, both grabbed hold. Dave shot out his other hand and opened up the
throttle. Together, as one man, they guided the power boat in and around
the other rescue craft until they were clear and heading straight out
into the Channel. Once there was nothing but open water ahead of them
they both relaxed, looked into each other's eyes and grinned.
"Well, that _must_ be the last surprise, Freddy," Dave said. "There just
isn't anything else that could happen that would startle me."
"Nor me, either!" Freddy breathed. "The excitement's all over for us,
now. In another hour we'll be in England."
And then suddenly a hand was clapped down on each of them, and a hoarse
voice boomed,
"Well, of all things! You two!"
They both spun around, then stopped dead and gasped in bewildered
amazement. There standing in his water-soaked uniform was General
Caldwell, Chief of British Staff. His piercing black eyes bored into
theirs, and his teeth showed white in a broad smile.
"Good heavens, you, General!" Dave finally managed to gulp out. "Why, I
didn't even know we'd hauled you aboard!"
"But you did, and thank God for that!" the General said fervently. "And
do you know, it's the strangest thing ever! I was telling the captain of
that boat about how you stole that plane, when the blasted torpedo
struck. By gad, it's incredible. But how in the world did you get here?
and in this boat, too!"
"Later, sir, if you don't mind," Freddy spoke up and put a hand on the
General's sleeve. "Please tell us the truth. We've got to know. The
information we gave you wasn't any help? You got it too late?"
General Caldwell stared at him hard, and then shook his head.
"You're dead wrong, Freddy, if you think that," he said in his oddly
soft voice. "I spoke the truth to you in the Lille hospital. Look back
there, both of you."
They turned and with their eyes followed the General's finger pointing
at the beach at Dunkirk.
"That's the last of the British Army to leave France," he spoke again.
"We've been getting them out for days, and against terrific odds. The
only reason I was on that boat that was torpedoed, instead of being back
there to be the last man to leave, was because I had my orders to return
at once and start getting things reorganized. But they will all be in
England before this fog gives the Stukas the chance they want. And
praise to dear God for the fog and the rain he has sent us in these days
of heroic effort. But, what I am trying to say to you, is this. Had I
not received your information in time, thousands upon thousands of those
brave chaps would never have been able to reach Dunkirk in time to be
taken off. They would now be trapped in France and in Belgium. No, boys,
it was not too late. And to you two England owes a debt she will never
be able to repay."
"I'm glad," Freddy whispered softly. "I'm glad it was not too late."
"Gosh, me too," Dave mumbled, and tried to say more but the words
wouldn't come.
And so the three of them: two boys and the General stood there with
their faces turned toward England while the boat cut through the
dawn-greyed swells and the light fog. And then after a long time the fog
lifted and they saw it there ahead.
"Dover!" Freddy said in a choked voice, and tears trickled down his
cheeks. "The chalk cliffs of Dover. England!"
"Yes, the chalk cliffs of Dover, and England," General Caldwell murmured
huskily. "We've taken a pretty bad beating, but it's far from being all
over. We may even take some more beatings. Perhaps several of them. But
in the end we will win. We must win, for there will always be an
England. Always!"
* * * * *
Three days after the world-thrilling evacuation of Dunkirk, Dave Dawson
sat in the living-room of Freddy Farmer's house in Baker Street in
London. Freddy was there, of course, and so was his dad. And so was
Dave's father. Within an hour after touching English soil the British
War Office had contacted Dave's dad in Paris where he had gone hoping to
pick up the trail of his missing son. And, now, the four of them were
waiting because of a phone call from General Caldwell. A phone call
stating that the Chief of Staff was on his way there, and for them all
please to wait.
"Boy, I wish he'd get here!" Dave exclaimed for the umpteenth time.
"He didn't say why he wanted to see us?" Freddy asked his father for the
umpteenth time, too.
"No, Freddy," the senior Farmer replied patiently. "He didn't say a word
about it."
"Gee, do I hope, do I hope, _do I hope!_" Dave breathed and pressed his
two clenched fists together. "Do I hope he has fixed it for us to get
into the R.A.F., even though we are a bit under age. He said he'd do
everything he could. And, Dad?"
Dave turned and looked into his father's face.
"Yes, Dave?"
"I sure hope it really _is_ okay with you," Dave said. "I mean getting
into the R.A.F., if I possibly can. It's.... Well, it's just that
nothing else seems important now, except trimming the pants off the
Nazis. And I want to help, no matter _what_ kind of help it is."
"I understand, perfectly, Dave," his father said with a smile. "I know
exactly how you feel, because I feel the same way. I'm staying over here
to help, too. In the government end of things."
Dave's exclamation of surprise was cut short by the ringing of the door
bell. Freddy's father answered it and came back into the room with
General Caldwell. The Chief of Staff greeted them all and then handed
Dave and Freddy each a small package.
"And with life-long gratitude from the bottom of my heart," he said
gravely.
They opened the packages to find an expensive wrist watch in each. And
on the back of each watch was the inscription:
To One Of The Two Finest And Bravest
Boys I Ever Met
General H. V. K. Caldwell
"And, now, the real reason I came here," the General said before they
could even begin to blurt out their thanks and appreciation. "Their
Majesties, King George and Queen Elizabeth, are waiting to receive you
at Buckingham Palace. And your fathers, of course."
"The King ... and the Queen?" Freddy said in a hushed voice.
"Oh boy, meeting the King and Queen in Buckingham Palace!" Dave
breathed. And then he couldn't hold it any longer. "General Caldwell!"
the words rushed off his lips. "What Freddy and I asked you about? I
mean ... the R.A.F. Is there any chance?"
The General tried to look stern, but he just couldn't keep the grin from
breaking through.
"Among other things," he said in his soft voice, "Their Majesties wish
to be the first to congratulate their two new members of the Royal Air
Force. So, I suggest we do not keep them waiting, eh?"
Dave and Freddy looked at each other without speaking, but their eyes
spoke volumes. The dream had come true. Or perhaps it was only
beginning. Either way, though, one thing was certain. Beginning with
this moment they would have the chance to do their share as pilots of
the Royal Air Force in the battle for Britain. And that chance was all
they asked. Nothing more.
----THE END----
See next page.
_A Page from_
DAVE DAWSON WITH THE R.A.F.
At that moment a short, savage burst from Flight Lieutenant
Barton-Woods' guns snapped Dave's eyes back to the Junkers. They were
still quite a ways off but the Green Flight leader had let go with a
challenging burst hoping that the Germans would give up thoughts of
escape and turn back to give battle. However, it was instantly obvious
that the Junkers pilots and their crews didn't want any truck with three
Spitfire pilots. The nose of each ship was pushed down a bit to add
speed to the get away attempt. And a moment later Dave saw the flash of
sunlight on bombs dropping harmlessly down into the rolling grey-green
swells where the Channel blends in with the North Sea.
"Not this day, my little Jerries!" Flight Lieutenant Barton-Woods' voice
boomed over the radio. "Let's make the beggars pay for dropping bombs in
our Channel, Green Flight! Give it to them!"
The last was more or less the signal that each pilot was on his own.
Dave waited until he saw his flight leader swerve off to slam in at the
Junkers to the right. Then he touched rudder, and with Freddy sticking
right with him, swerved off after the other German raider.
Transcriber's Notes:
Page 73: Changed probaby to probably
Page 184: Changed fairly to fairy
Page 216: Changed aways to always
End of Project Gutenberg's Dave Dawson at Dunkirk, by Robert Sydney Bowen