Piece of Cake

Piece of Cake Read Online Free PDF

Book: Piece of Cake Read Online Free PDF
Author: Derek Robinson
near Bordeaux,” said Patterson. “I’ve passed through it many a time.”
    â€œIs it funny?” Stickwell asked.
    â€œOh, unspeakably hilarious.”
    â€œGet in and try her on for size,” Moran told Cattermole. “Take a spin around the block. Go on, give her another kick if you feel like it. Give her a real good kick.”
    â€œDon’t be tiresome, Flip,” Cattermole said.
    â€œShe’s my machine,” Moran growled. “Kick your own plane if you must kick something.”
    â€œNo, I couldn’t do that. I’m not at all sentimental about aircraft.”
    Cattermole’s flight commander, Fanny Barton, strolled over. “Stop causing trouble, Moggy,” he said, “or I’ll beat you up.” Barton was a New Zealander, tall and athletic, with hair that was so fair his eyebrows were almost invisible.
    â€œWhat a good idea!” Cattermole said. “Let’s have a scrap, ‘B’ flight against ‘A’ flight. Let’s have a jolly good scrap. I’m getting cold.”
    â€œNo,” Barton said.
    â€œGame of rugger, then,” Cattermole suggested. “We can use Dicky for the ball.” He went toward Dicky Starr, the youngest and the smallest member of the squadron. “No fear,” Dicky said, backing away. “Just for a couple of minutes,” Moggy wheedled. “Come on, be a sport, Dicky. We’ll pay for anything we break.” He made a grab, and Dicky dodged behind Cox. “Get out of the way, Mother,” Cattermole ordered. “I’m too tired,” Cox said. “You’ll have to go round the outside.” Cattermole scowled. “Buck up, Mother,” he said. “This is not the proper squadron spirit.”
    Cox yawned. “Tell the Ram,” he said.
    A car came sliding through the fog, its headlights making the murk seem more solid, and stopped. The Ram got out, carefully; the scars from his shingles were still sensitive.
    â€œSorry about all this muck,” he announced. “The met people promised me it would lift half an hour ago, and they should know. That being so, I propose to get the whole squadron airborne at once, on the assumption that conditions will have cleared by the time you have to land.”
    There was a moment of frozen silence while the Ram turned and examined the fog. He turned back and said: “Now that I have your undivided attention, flying is canceled.” They relaxed; some even chuckled. “Instead there will be a cross-country run, twice around the airfield.” The chuckling ceased. “Get into gym kit and report to the adjutant at the main gate in fifteen minutes.”
    The Ram eased himself into his car and drove away.
    â€œAt least his eyesight hasn’t got any worse,” Moran said as they walked back to their quarters.
    â€œWhat d’you méan?” Barton asked.
    â€œWell, he can see this fog all right. I just wonder if he’ll be able to see the enemy as clearly. Before they see us, that is.”
    â€œIt doesn’t really matter all that much. We’re faster than they are. They can’t get away, can they?”
    â€œAh, no, of course not.” Moran turned up his collar. “Now why didn’t I think of that? Dear me, Moran. You’re a terrible booby.”
    â€œNot that it isn’t an advantage to be able to see the enemy first,” Barton said. “Obviously it’s an advantage.”
    â€œMaybe we can persuade the Germans to use bigger airplanes,” Moran said. “There has to be some simple solution.”
    They assembled at the main gate. “Remember,” the adjutant said, “your route is outside the perimeter wire, so you can forget about short cuts. I’ll time you. My advice,” he went on, as they rubbed their bare arms and hopped from foot to foot, “is take it steady, pace yourself, and don’t try to jump the ditches. Run
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