shootin' practice!" O'Malley bellowed as he slipped off on one wing, did a stall, and laid over for another dive. They were now close to the treetops. Another Airacobra dived in and when it zoomed away, they were minus one wing tip and their port engine was stuttering. But they were down among the treetops and O'Malley was hedge-hopping like a wild man. They missed an ancient castle set on a cliff. How O'Malley managed it he himself did not know. One wing lifted and the turrets of the old castle slipped under. Down they went into a little valley, fanning the treetops. One motor was dead and the other was not putting out much power. Suddenly they realized that they were being covered by flak fired from a field ahead of them. The barrage was fierce and concentrated. It sent the Yank fighters kiting up to a safer level. The boys felt sure of their kill anyway. The Fiat had started to billow smoke out of the tail compartment where an incendiary shell had lodged. "I'd rather bail out than land in this thing!" Allison shouted. O'Malley shook his head and grinned. "Not one chance, she won't lift a foot. Here goes for a belly landing!" They skimmed over a row of trees and headed for an open field surrounded by woods. The Fiat gave up the ghost halfway across the field. She just settled down and hit the earth in a cloud of smoke and dust. Twisting and turning she plowed her way toward the far tree line. Finally she whirled around and piled up. The dust and smoke was so thick the three Yanks could see nothing. Pawing and struggling they fought their way out of the mass of wreckage. They heard men shouting all around them. Bursting out of the smoke and dust, they found themselves surrounded by fifty or more German soldiers. For a moment the Germans were as surprised as the three Yanks. They had expected to rescue a crew of Italian fliers. The men before them were dressed in the garb of Italian civilians. An officer bellowed an order and the Germans charged in. There was no place to run, except out on the open field, and that would have been suicide because a half dozen of the Germans were armed with tommy-guns. The Yanks just stood waiting for the Germans to reach them. The officer in command of the rescue group, a tall fellow with a saber scar on his cheek, halted before them and regarded them critically. Slowly a sarcastic smile formed on his lips. He spoke to them sharply in Italian. Stan answered in English. "We are officers of the United States Army." The officer looked blank but another officer who had come up broke in, speaking clipped but perfect English. "American fliers dressed as Italian civilians." He raised his eyebrows. "We can thank your fighters for shooting you down. Your spy system is very dumb, indeed. Your fighter planes should have known
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