Dangerous Moonlight Page #2

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I shall want 23 volunteers

to accompany me.

No married men,

because it's a one-way journey.

Those who will come with me,

take one step forward.

Stupid children.

But I might have guessed.

Roshinsky, you're married,

aren't you?

"Polonaise No.1"

And you, Hapner?

And you, Piazesetsky.

I know you are married.

I was afraid of that.

So I wrote out some numbers

for you to draw.

There are also four men needed

to take the new planes to Romania.

Now, all of you draw a slip

and go over to Topolski.

He'll tell you if you've won a prize.

"Polonaise No.1"

You stay.

Bomber.

Bomber.

Romania.

You stay.

Bomber.

Romania.

You stay.

You for Romania as well?

Mm-hmm.

I'm Mike Carroll.

You the pianist fellow?

Yes, I suppose I am.

Better get our things ready

and get out of here.

They'll be here in a few hours.

"Polonaise No.1"

We'll never keep together.

I'll meet you at the consulate.

Keep south-east.

Can you manage it?

I think so.

I wish I was sure of the rest.

I don't want to be interned.

I won't be. I'm a neutral, I hope.

Why are you here?

Irish, the last of the Wild Geese.

We always fought in other countries.

Usually against the English.

I can't stay in Romania.

There go the last.

One-way trip.

They're a good bunch of boys.

We'd better get cracking. Jerry'll

be here soon. See you there.

I'll be back one day.

One day I'll be back.

Well, New York's the same anyway.

Why shouldn't it be?

It's a change to see

somewhere peaceful.

It's journey's end anyway.

What's worrying you?

I'm not worried.

One of your blasted moods.

It's a cheerful way

to start a concert tour.

A lovely six-month holiday

and you complain. It wasn't my idea.

I'd feel happier on the other side.

Pick up the joining-up forms

at the Polish embassy.

When are the reporters coming?

I hate interviews,

I feel like a freak.

You are in a way -

composer, pianist, airman.

I said don't mention my flying, but

De Guys was thinking of business.

After a three-month tour,

we come back to New York

for the final concert.

Gentlemen, remember that

all the proceeds go to charity.

I heard he used to be an airman.

It's a good story,

if it's true.

I don't know how you heard this!

Monsieur Radetzky is here

as a pianist.

Please say nothing about

his flying activities.

But see that it, er,

leaks out quietly.

OK.

What's he been doing

since Poland got taken over?

I have prepared for that.

"After six months, Stefan Radetzky

escaped the hardship and horror

of an internment camp in Romania."

You seem very sure he's the guy

you met in Warsaw. I am.

A Polish pianist who's an ace pilot,

it must be him.

Will he remember you?

Of course.

You wait a

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