Fighter Squadron Page #7

Sometimes I wish I

was a sergeant.

If I was a general, this

wouldn't have happened.

Black cats are

always bad luck.

No. Once, riding with

my mother-in-law,

a black cat ran in

front of the car.

I hit the brakes... Boing!

She hasn't talked to me since.

That's good luck.

This way, sir.

Am I getting out, sir?

In time, I imagine you will.

We were cleaning up your

room and found these.

I think you've been dealing

in the black market.

Enjoy them, Dolan.

Major, General McCready

is on the phone.

I came to thank you, Dolan.

You said I'd get it.

I got it.

It's no good. The

cat racket is dead.

Sergeant.

Yes, sir.

Take one of those cats

to Sybil's mother.

Yes, sir.

Soldier, hand me a tame one.

Yes, sir.

You don't have to salute

me when you're in jail.

Get busy. Keep moving around.

Don't let them catch

you standing still.

Come on, p*ssy. We're

going to town.

My congressman will

hear about this.

Is this it?

I hope so.

My flying time is running out.

Get everybody into

the briefing room.

Yes, sir.

All leave is canceled.

All pilots on leave

are recalled at once.

All personnel will

wear sidearms.

All guards doubled.

No one leaves or

enters the field.

There is to be no communication

with the outside.

Strict radio silence

will be maintained.

All planes will be fully armed

with .50 caliber and rockets.

"A" squadron will be

armed with napalm bombs,

"B" squadron with

fragmentative 260s,

"C" squadron, first

section, with frag 500s,

second section, with

phosphorus 500s.

All planes will be

ready for takeoff

at 0300 tomorrow.

Is this the big show?

Could be. Let's go.

"Dear Ann,

"your letter has given me the

courage to write about Stu.

"I followed him down.

"The last thing he

said on the R.T.

Was that he was

thinking of you."

Your move.

Jacobs, don't flip your lid.

Don't tell me

he's going with us.

We're going to need everything

we've got in the air.

Black Leader, Black Leader.

Hello, Black Leader.

It works.

No word.

Clear as a bell.

We used to hull corn at

night back in Tennessee.

I didn't hull corn, but it

was a night just like this.

Southeast, southeast.

Shallow's here.

Naval bombardment

ranging beachhead now.

Division 14, Division 14.

Landing craft still

1/4 mile off Omaha...

Radio silence broken at 0611.

They're hitting the beaches.

It's the invasion. D-Day, sir.

No Fritzes up here today.

Take a look. The

invasion's really on.

Look at that beach.

Looks like Coney

Island on Sunday.

Cobra Leader, Cobra Leader.

Beagle ground control calling.

Cobra Leader to Beagle.

Go ahead.

We're on Omaha Beach. We'll

control you from here.

Attack Beauville. The

village Beauville.

L-24 your map.

Infantry in houses.

Tiger tanks. Two block houses

above village to east.

Try to knock them out.

Holding up our troops at

the head of this valley.

Cobra Leader. L-24

on block houses.

Roger.

[Speaking German]

Beagle to Cobra Leader.

Correction, correction.

Take sector 17 10 miles

behind coastline.

Patrol St. Clair

and Alencon road.

Cobra leader to Beagle.

You're a different voice.

The other operator was wounded.

I have taken over.

What do they call the

Brooklyn Dodgers?

What? I don't understand you.

I'll say you don't. Hey, Duke!

They ought to know

about Ebbets Field.

Yeah.

Village ahead. Arm your bombs.

Plaster it.

Block houses dead ahead.

Right behind you, Ed.

Double bull's-eye!

Not bad bombing, huh?

Let's get those Tiger

Tanks on the road.

Where are you going, junior?

Cobra Leader to Beagle,

Cobra Leader to Beagle.

Plug it in, sergeant.

O.K., Cobra. You did it.

A hot job, baby.

Our troops are moving up.

Fly sector five now,

1-3 miles behind beach.

Attack all reinforcements

they're bringing up...

Railroads, troops,

road convoy.

Sector five, 1-3 miles. Roger.

Cobra Leader to squadrons.

Select your targets,

and let's go.

I see something hidden

in those trees,

and it's no picnic ground.

A man could get

his tail burned.

Hey, fellows. A gas station!

Fill 'er up!

By the rocket's red glare

Have one on me!

Don't report for

work tomorrow.

Hey, this flak is

getting rough.

Colonel Hardin!

Cobra Leader! Colonel Hardin!

He's going down. Flak hit him.

Ed!

Ed! Ed, answer!

It was flak. No German

plane would get him.

You didn't see him crash.

No. I never got another look.

Tennessee?

None of us.

Was his plane spinning?

No, sir. Just heading down.

Slow spiral.

He's alive.

I gave him Paulette's address

in Paris...

29 Rue de Rivoli.

He'll get there.

Sir, your temporary orders

putting you in command

of the group.

And these are my orders.

Fly low, strike hard,

and blast a hole for those

ground boys to get through.

I got to be in Paris

before Hardin.

What are we waiting for?

And so the brilliant page

of history was written,

thanks to the Mike McCreadys,

to the inspiration of

the Bill Brickleys,

to the laughter of

the Duke Chappells,

to the eagerness of

the Shorty Kirks,

to the youth of the

Tennessee Atkins,

to the loyalty of the

Stuart Hamiltons,

and to the courage

and the daring

of the Ed Hardins,

who streaked across the skies

to make possible

the victory below.

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