Air Stories, November 1937 — page 13: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

DUSTMEN DON’T CARE fighting unit already engaged on the city’s defence. And when they failed, the old gentle- men of Whitehall would shake their heads and tell each other that the Dust- men were nowhere near as good as they had been thought—just another case of these freakish war-reputations which were as easily pricked as_ glittering bubbles. CHAPTER IV Edison Has an Idea S Major Clarke strolled towards the mess-anteroom to break the news to his officers, he had the traitorous but fervent hope that an obliging German would drop a bomb on Whitehall that night. But in the anteroom, as_ general conversation ceased politely at his entrance, he walked towards the fireplace and turned to stare at the assembled group. Since it was just before lunch, everyone was present. The inventive Edison was sitting at a side table, with a stub of pencil and a paper covered with complicated drawings. ‘‘ Listen to me, everyone,’’ said Nobby grimly. ‘‘Shut the door over there. All right, now. If anyone wants to see me shot at dawn he’s got a first-class opportunity of doing so. I’m going to disobey orders just passed on to me by a fatheaded, pompous old—by the General in command of this section of the line. Before I say anything, however, you’ve got to listen to an order from me, and you’ve damned well got to adhere to it ! Not one of you is to repeat a single word of what you hear inside these walls.’ The Squadron were astonished. Except in cases of misdemeanour, or during flare-ups of his well-known, volatile temper, Major Clarke was seldom serious. He had the trick of making himself a lighthearted, cheerful companion, as well as a commanding officer. But now they recognised the new tone in his voice, and dead silence reigned. Edison looked up from his drawings, his square face as serious as ever. Briefly, the Major outlined the orders 391 he had just had from the General. ‘Well, that’s the position,’’ he con- cluded. ‘‘We leave to-night. To- morrow night we shall be on duty at Northley Aerodrome, on the outskirts of London, waiting for a raid warning. When we get it, we’ve got to take-off and do what no other fully trained and experienced London defence squadron has yet managed to do. We’ve got to find the raiders and bring them down. In short, certain gentlemen in Whitehall have ordered us to find a needle in a haystack. And I’ve told you everything, in the wild, blind hope that one of you may be able to make a suggestion which will help.’’ He shrugged his shoulders helplessly. ‘‘T hate talking this way,’’ he went on, ‘“ but I think all of you are glad that you are members of this squadron. I’ve carefully weeded-out every man who didn’t seem as though he put the Squadron’s reputation above everything else. And now, because a lot of old— because of these new orders, you can all realise that we’re facing a bad failure, and a loss of that reputation, through no fault of our own.’’ Directly he had stopped, there was a general buzz of low conversation. Every man in the room was angry. Every one of them knew the impossibility of the task which they had been set. To have been ordered back to London to help in the business of home defence in the ordinary way would have been different— even welcome. But in this case, where immediate results were demanded in impossible circumstances—— ‘‘But surely you told him, Major ? ’’ said young Carter, the leader of the afternoon patrol. ‘‘ Someone's got to tell these old dears in Whitehall that, although we’ll do our best, they can’t expect es ‘‘We have our orders,’’ said Nobby who, as a dutiful soldier, was trying to control himself when he thought of the General. oi ELL, chaps, there’s one thing we could do,’’ said Edison from his distant corner of the room. ‘‘ Whilst S (© COMIC OO®