Secrets of Radar
adjusted his gun.

A telephone attached to a tree jangled.

“I’ll get it.” The first gunner jumped up.

“It’s for you, Sergeant,” he announced a moment later.

“Be right there.” The sergeant was away.

There was a serious, all but stern look on the sergeant’s face when he returned. “Sorry, lady,” he half apologized. “School’s dismissed for today.”

“Why—what—” she began.

He broke in: “Some nasty old Jap bombers are headed this way to mess things up a bit. And did they pick on a swell day to do their stuff! They’ll come hopping out of the clouds, drop their bombs and drop back into the clouds again.”

“Before we get a good crack at ’em,” the first gunner broke in. “The dirty—”

“Lady, you’d better scram,” said the sergeant. “This is no place for you right now.”

“I hear ’em comin’!” The second gunner’s ears were covered by a listening device.

“I’m not leaving,” the girl said, as she shook her hair into a tangled mass. “This may be a man’s war, but they’ll have to put me in the guard house to keep me out of it.”

“Oh! Miss! I’m sorry,” the sergeant exclaimed, “but orders are orders. No ladies.”

“Who’s giving the orders?” she snapped. “You’re a sergeant. I’m a second officer of the WACS. You tell me who’s ranking officer on this gun! I’m staying! And we’re going to get one of those bombers!”

“Get what? Get—” A strange light shone in the sergeant’s eyes like the glint of a diamond. “Last time they got a whole gun crew and one was my particular pal,” he grumbled. He whistled a bar of “Lady Be Good”, then said: “Have it your own way. Let’s get set.”

By this time the enemy planes could be heard rumbling through the overcast.

“They’re heading for the airdrome. We’re practically on the edge of it,” the sergeant explained. “They may take time to wipe us off 
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