Free Command Decision by William Wister Haines Page A

head.
    “Your losses are the United Chiefs’ rap, Casey. As a matter of fact that’s what I’m over here about. A lot of our people were very upset, even before yesterday. A very substantial body of opinion still doesn’t believe we can succeed with daylight precision bombardment.”
    “A very substantial body of opinion didn’t believe in the Wright brothers, either.”
    “It isn’t quite that simple, Casey. This program is making a terrible drain on our overall resources of the very best manpower and matériel. I may as well tell you that the United Chiefs are having another Global Allocation meeting on Tuesday.”
    There was instant relief in realizing what had been wrong with Kane today. He had already known this, Dennis gathered.
    “Tuesday… I’ve had to wait three weeks for this run of weather, Cliff. You can only count on about one three-day run a summer here. But we got Posenleben yesterday and Schweinhafen today and this is only Saturday. Weather thinks it will be okay for Fendelhorst tomorrow. We can finish before that meeting can do anything to us.”
    “Have you thought what losses like this might do to that meeting?”
    He had been thinking of exactly that. Kane took up the slack of the silence.
    “This could upset the whole larger picture, Casey.”
    “Would you rather have Goering upset it, sir?”
    “That’s still an assumption,” said Kane plaintively. “The overall plan calls for me… for us to have the largest bomber force in the Hemisphere. These two days are going to be a terrible shock to the Chiefs, Casey. I’m not at all sure that, for the good of the whole service, I’m justified in permitting a third…”
    “You’ve got to, sir,” snapped Dennis. “Concentration is the crux of this matter. You agreed to that before I started.”
    “Why? Why just now?” inquired Garnett.
    “Weather,” said Dennis. “It may be a month before we can get back to Fendelhorst. These two attacks have tipped our hand. Half the rolling flak in Germany is probably on its way there right now. They’ll either make it impregnable or disperse that machinery until we never find it unless we get it in the next forty-eight hours.”
    Garnett nodded absently but his frown reflected a detachment from such detailsas European weather. Kane and Dennis regarded each other stonily. Then even before their ears could hear the first faint roaring, the three men with one accord made for the windows as everything else in their minds gave way to the pressure of the returning Fortresses.

Chapter 4
    They came fast and, this afternoon, low. The first seemed to spring out of the treetops across the field. The sight of them steadied Dennis.
    Two others darting in from another angle were already above him now, bulky and ugly as they always appeared at these deceptive short angles. Both were yawing jerkily from the grasping suction of gaping shot holes. But they had zigzagged that way from Germany and their motors were steady. They would make it to the ground. He dismissed them, extending his quick estimates to the next ones with the hot familiar pain kneading his stomach as he did.
    They were badly scattered. He knew that they usually broke formation about mid-Channel after a run like this one but more than drying gas tanks had spread them out today. As his eyes assessed the damage expertly he realized that he had not yet seen two of them which could have flown closely enough to each other to make normal formation safe… five… six… eight… he did not know that he was counting aloud unconsciously as every pair of lips on the station always counted. He could hear Garnett’s low exclamation distinctly.
    “Look at those props!”
    He had counted six feathered ones himself before the building shook with the wash of the planes immediately overhead and the Forts vanished, leaving the sky behind them still athrob with their receding vibrations. Dennis wet his lips and knew with minor comfort that he was not going to