Chapter 5
Mission 25: Frankfurt
March 23, 1944“Scarecrow to port,” Billy’s voice crackled on the intercom. It had been a long time—several minutes at least, Del was sure—since anyone had said anything over the intercom. He tried hard to think of the last thing anyone had said, but he could not remember.
“Watch for fighters,” he ordered. His voice sounded far away. He knew that Billy’s report would have everyone searching for the enemy in the endless grey-black gloom regardless, but Del always said it anyway. It made him feel a little more useful.
Although Del was really the only one who had any control over the kite at all, he often felt that he was entirely in the hands of his crew. He couldn’t see much from his little bench up front; the position of the pilot’s seat enabled him to ta
