Free Doveland by Martha Moore Page A

Homer didn’t show up and Clovis flew around looking for him. Finally, he found him wandering around on the floor of the forest, disoriented.
    â€œWhat happened?”
    â€œThat’s what I’ve been trying to figure out!”
    â€œAre you okay?”
    â€œAll I know is I took down this crazy red hen, and when we hit the ground, she started pecking the daylights out of me. I tried to explain that I wasn’t a roving bird looking for a mate, but it was too late. Then she flew away.”
    â€œIt’s okay, Homer.”
    Homer looked up at Clovis. His head was bloody, and one of the combs over his eyes was torn, with a tiny piece of fleshy skin over his eye.
    â€œCan you see okay, Homer?”
    â€œI guess so, but from now on, we’ll leave the hens to you!”
    â€œOkay.”
    One afternoon, as Clovis and Homer perched on the sidelines, an enemy carrier pigeon entered their side of the forest just a few yards down. The strange behavior seemed intentional. Homer waited while Clovis investigated.
    Clovis hid among the trees as he quietly scanned the forest for the mysterious flyer. To his alarming surprise, the bird had rejoined an army of enemy carrier pigeons. There were more than adozen lined along the branches, possibly ready to launch a deadly attack on Clovis and Homer. His fear was confirmed when he spotted the Spitter among them.
    Clovis returned to Homer.
    â€œWhat did you find out?”
    â€œOne is all they wanted us to see.”
    â€œThey, who are they, Clovis?”
    â€œThe Spitter is among them.”
    â€œMore than four?”
    â€œI didn’t count them.”
    Homer began to quiver with visions of being attacked and pecked to death, like Somerset.
    Clovis had a plan that might work, but first he would have to convince Homer to go along.
    â€œWe can always desert the troops and join the birds in southern France.” suggested Clovis.
    â€œWhy not? We’re doomed if we stay!”
    â€œOf course,” Clovis continued, “If we choose to flee, it would mean victory for Vogelzar, and he would become ruler of the bird empire!”
    Homer grimaced, as he could see that Clovis had no intention of letting that happen.
    â€œHow can the two of us win a fight against an army of birds, huh?”
    â€œI have a plan that may work. We need some boom.”
    â€œYou mean the grenadier’s boom?”
    Clovis began to explain how they would place a grenade in the middle of the forest. Homer would wait with the pin intact, while Clovis led the flock close to the floor of the forest. Clovis would timely signal Homer to release the pin from the grenade, and both of them would escape the explosion. The crimson combs over Homer’s eyes began to rise.
    â€œYou want me to sit on a grenade that goes boom?”
    When Clovis did not answer, Homer grimaced.
    â€œWell, you can forget it, Clovis!” He began moving down to the end of the branch.
    Clovis paced Homer’s steps, and spoke to him in a grim tone.
    â€œIt’s our turn to go over the top, my friend.”
    Like the Tommies in the trenches, they were outnumbered, and would be unable to defend themselves against an attack. Homer finally agreed, and they proceeded as planned.
    The grenadier always set two grenades on the parapet. While he was opening another box, they quickly selected one of the grenades and began rolling it quickly toward the woods. The grenadier emerged to find one missing. Looking all around, he spotted the two birds wrestling with it a short distance away. His first instinct was to retrieve it, but leaving his post may compromise the safety of his fellow comrades.
    They stopped in the middle of the woods and Homer carefully positioned his claw inside the pin. He was more afraid than he hadever been in his life, ever. Clovis warned Homer that timing was everything. He must wait for his whistle before pulling the pin.
    Clovis flew into the forest straight toward the