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  A YANKEE FLIER

  IN ITALY

  "WE'LL TAKE OVER NOW," STAN SNAPPED.

  _A Yankee Flier in Italy_]

  A YANKEE FLIER

  IN ITALY

  BY

  AL AVERY

  _ILLUSTRATED BY_

  PAUL LAUNE

  GROSSET & DUNLAPPUBLISHERS :: NEW YORK

  COPYRIGHT, 1944, BY

  GROSSET & DUNLAP, INC.

  _All Rights Reserved_

  _Printed in the United States of America_

  [Transcriber's note: Extensive research did not uncover any evidencethat the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]

  _For_

  AVON KIRKS

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER PAGE

  I FAREWELL PARTY 1

  II SPECIAL TASK 13

  III REUNION 23

  IV BEACH-HEAD 38

  V PRISON SHIP 52

  VI FIRING SQUAD 75

  VII REST CURE 90

  VIII ESCAPE 98

  IX HOMEWARD BOUND 110

  X LONE EAGLE 127

  XI RESCUE 140

  XII SALERNO 162

  XIII NIGHT RAID 184

  XIV NIGHT FLIGHT 200

  A YANKEE FLIER

  IN ITALY

  CHAPTER I

  FAREWELL PARTY

  The party was about to break up. It had not been very successful.Lieutenant O'Malley had devoured only one blueberry pie. This meant hewas feeling far from par. He sat sprawled in a big chair that once hadbelonged to a Moslem prince, his skinny legs elevated to the top of themess table.

  "Sure, an' you fellows are skunks, beatin' it off to do a soft stretchin Alexandria," he growled.

  Lieutenant Stan Wilson, United States Army Air Corps, grinned at hisIrish pal.

  "They need brains in Alexandria to tell them what to do." Stan sippedhis coffee and continued to grin.

  March Allison leaned across the table. Allison was British, slight andneatly dressed. There was always a mocking smile lurking at the cornersof his mouth.

  "I say, old fellow, you should be crowing. You are now a flightcommander and I understand you are to rate nothing less than a major."

  "'Tis not the stripes I want," O'Malley muttered. "Sure, an' I'm toldthis Colonel Benson who is to be in command is a spalpeen of the worstsort. Niver did I care fer brass hats an' now I am to be near one allthe time."

  "I understand Colonel Benson holds to a strict diet, no coffee, tobacco,or pie," Stan said gravely. "He expects his men to follow his example."

  O'Malley snorted. "Sure, an' I'll be after eatin' pie right off the topo' his desk."

  "He is said to be the best-dressed officer in the Army." Allison had hisgaze fixed upon O'Malley's sloppy uniform. The shirt was open at theneck to allow O'Malley's huge Adam's apple to roll up and down, free andunencumbered. O'Malley's cap was wrinkled and sagging as it attempted tocover his shock of wild hair.

  "I'm a fightin' man," O'Malley said gravely. "As such I waste no timeon trifles." His big mouth was tightly clamped shut and a frown wrinkledhis homely face.

  Stan and Allison broke out laughing. Colonel Benson would have to takeO'Malley as he was, that they well knew. They had fought side by sidewith him in the Battle of Britain, in the Far East, and now in Africa.O'Malley was known as the wildest pilot in the service and one of thebest.

  "We better get going," Stan said as he rose to his feet. He held out ahand to O'Malley. "Hold off the invasion of Sicily and Italy until weget back, pal."

  "I'll be startin' it tomorrow," O'Malley said sourly.

  "Cheerio," Allison added as he shook hands with his pal.

  O'Malley watched them walk out of the mess. He had to admit, as the doorclosed after them, that his gloom was due entirely to parting with thetwo men he had fought beside for so long. Such things as colonels whowere tough did not bother O'Malley. Having Stan and Allison walk out onhim was the thing that hurt. It was his own fault that he was not goingwith them. He had refused to quit the front for a month or so of easeand rest.

  Gazing out through an open window, he watched a group of natives herd aflock of donkeys down toward the main part of the city of Bizerte. Hecertainly would kick himself if no invasion came off for a month.Lowering his feet from the top of the table, he strolled out into thesunshine. Colonel Benson was due to arrive that morning and he hadorders to be on hand, along with other flight commanders, to meet hissuperior. O'Malley yawned. Meeting brass hats always bored him. He wasnot sure that he was going to like being one of them. O'Malleyconsidered even a flight commander a brass hat.

  Colonel Benson was late in arriving. He was exactly three hours late andthat made O'Malley exactly two hours late for his dinner. Dinner was avery important item in O'Malley's day, and he was in a very dour moodwhen an orderly called the boys in to meet the new commander.

  The commander's room once had been a lounge and music room. It was partof a huge old mansion located on an estate. An Italian political bosshad taken it over from a native prince. O'Malley crowded in behind thefirst man entering the room. At once the man ahead of O'Malley clickedhis heels and snapped a smart salute. O'Malley looked the colonel over,then dabbed at the front of his cap with a big hand.

  Colonel Benson was a big, rawboned man, standing six feet two inches andweighing two hundred and ten pounds. His red face looked as though ithad just been scrubbed with soap and water. It had a pink and whitesmoothness under the sunburn which reddened it. The eyes of the coloneltook away the softness of his smooth face. They were green and hard asagate. At the moment they were looking Lieutenant O'Malley over with adecidedly unfavorable glint.

  The other boys shoved in and lined up. There was no mistaking theatmosphere in the room. It fairly vibrated with military correctness.The colonel's uniform, his carefully parted hair, his smooth, freshlyscraped chin, all added to the feeling of tightness.

  Most of the boys in the room were used to dirt and dust and beardedfaces. They recently had come through a dusty, dirty, and bloodybattle. During those months on the desert they had forgotten all aboutmilitary correctness. The colonel's expression plainly indicated that hethought them a sloppy outfit. He remained standing as he talked, and themen remained at attention.

  "I have been sent here to teach you men some of the combat tricksdeveloped recently." His eyes roved over the men and stopped uponO'Malley.

  "I am not going to insist upon strict military observance, but there area few details I will insist upon." The colonel's voice was rising andhis face was getting a bit redder.

  "You." He stabbed a finger toward O'Malley.

  "Lieutenant O'Malley," O'Malley informed him.

  "Lieutenant O'Malley, nothing can excuse the sloppiness of your attire.In the future you will give more attention to your uniform."

  "Yes, sor," O'Malley said and grinned.

  The grin made Colonel Benson rise up on his heels. He came down with athud, but he said no more. His eyes moved from O'Malley.

  "We will soon be invading Italy." The Colonel paused to let this sinkin. It was exactly what the boys had been expecting, and therefore theyshowed no sudden interest.

  "How about Sicily, sor?" O'Malley asked. He had been flying missions allover the proposed routes and knew something would have to be done aboutSicily.

  "That will be merely a step in taking Italy, Lieutenant," the colonelexplained. He looked about the room. There were plenty of chairs. "Youmay be at ease, gentlemen. Seat yourselves and we will proceed w
ith ourconference."

  O'Malley grunted. Dinner hour was long past and here they were settlingdown for a conference. He picked the chair nearest the door and slumpeddown into it. The colonel seated himself and launched into a lengthy anddetailed talk upon tactics and plans. O'Malley listened for a time, thenstretched out his legs and made himself comfortable. His mind wanderedfar from the droning voice of the colonel.

  An hour passed and Colonel Benson was still outlining plans and drivinghome things he felt were very important. O'Malley had not exactly beenasleep, but he had failed to hear more than just a small part of whatwas said. Suddenly he roused himself. Colonel Benson had just made aremark that brought him up sharply.

  "Gentlemen, I will now outline the procedure we will follow in handlingthe various flights assigned to my sector. This will not take longerthan one hour. Give me your close attention."

  O'Malley looked about as though seeking a way to escape. He saw anorderly standing at the door. Nodding to the corporal, he leaned forwardand whispered a command. The orderly disappeared.

  Ten minutes later the corporal returned. He was carrying a tin platewith half of a blueberry pie on it.

  "Thank you, son," O'Malley said as he slid the pie into his lap. Hescooped out a quarter of the pie and opened his mouth. As he bit downupon the pie he began to grin. He gave his attention to the colonel withthe first real show of interest he had given during the afternoon. Thequarter of pie disappeared quickly. O'Malley slid the remaining quarterinto his hand and opened his mouth.

  "The close co-ordination between our fighter units and the low-levelbombers will be secured by a system of code signals." Colonel Benson'svoice snapped off suddenly. His green eyes were on O'Malley and sparksflashed in their depths. The other boys turned and looked at O'Malley.

  "You are hungry, Lieutenant O'Malley?" Colonel Benson asked coldly.

  "Yes, sor. 'Tis three hours an' more past dinnertime," O'Malley answeredcalmly as he shoved half of the pie into his mouth.

  "Stop! Stop--swilling that pie!" the colonel roared.

  O'Malley got rid of the pie in a simple manner. He shoved what was leftinto his mouth and munched upon it.

  For a full minute the colonel could not think of anything to say. Buthis face got deeper red and his eyes blazed. Finally he rapped on hisdesk and said:

  "Gentlemen, I will not tolerate eating during a conference. Any sort ofeating. I will not tolerate eating pie while I am giving instructions.Lieutenant O'Malley, you will retire. I will consider your case later."

  O'Malley got to his feet. He handed the pie plate to the embarrassedcorporal. "Thank you, sor," he drawled as he made off.

  The colonel snorted and went back to his lecture. O'Malley headed forthe mess hall. The half pie had whetted his appetite. Locating acomfortable place near a window he ordered a big dinner, with a wholeblueberry pie for dessert. In a leisurely manner he began devouring hismeal.

  He had spent most of an hour enjoying his dinner and was ready to eathis pie, when the fliers began drifting in from the conference. Severalof them headed toward O'Malley's table. O'Malley was the most famouspilot in their outfit. The stories about him amounted almost to legend.The boys admired his disregard for military usage. All of them had beenworking according to the colonel's carefully explained plans for monthsand knew them better than the colonel did. They had been bored by thelong session but had not had the nerve to show their feelings.

  But none of them reached O'Malley. Colonel Benson came in and strodeover to O'Malley's table.

  Nodding to O'Malley, he said, "Mind if I join you?" His voice did notsound so stiff outside his office.

  "Sure, an' I'm glad to have you," O'Malley said, but there was a gleamof suspicion in his eye.

  Colonel Benson seated himself. He watched O'Malley attack the pie. Hisinterest amounted to fascination and he did not speak until O'Malley hadfinished three fourths of the pie. He ordered coffee and leaned back.

  "I have heard a great deal about you, Lieutenant," he began.

  O'Malley did not think this remark called for an answer, so he went oneating his pie.

  "I know you are an excellent pilot, though I understand you are a bitreckless." There was a gleam that might have been humor in the colonel'seye.

  O'Malley leaned back. He pushed the pie plate away from him and uttereda contented sigh.

  "However, I'm afraid you are not the type of man I want working besideme. With your permission, I will find you another assignment." Thecolonel watched O'Malley as he spoke.

  "What sort o' work?" O'Malley asked.

  "Flying a fighter plane, of course." Colonel Benson smiled.

  "'Twill suit me foine," O'Malley said. "I'm not likin' the idea o' bein'a brass hat."

  "I don't think you would make a very good one," the colonel said. "Therewill be no further mention of your pie-eating exhibition of thisafternoon. You will report to operations for your new assignment."

  "Thank you, sor."

  The colonel drank his coffee and arose. O'Malley got to his feet andmanaged a snappy salute. The colonel moved off and the boys closed in tofind out what had happened.