At this point an exuberant woofer from Texas lost control. Tilting his head far back, he gave tongue to a genuine coyote howl that raised the hair on the necks of more than one “effete Easterner.” The bumptious ex-cowboy was penalized by being made to sing “Deep in the Heart of Texas” with his mouth full of olives. Following that there were speeches in praise of _Sweet Rosy O’Grady_ and every member of her crew. Tony Romani and Cracker Jackson received their full share of glory, as wounded heroes. Finally _Rosy_ herself was described as the plane that “sighted convoy, sank same, and retired to a desert island, where she became a sort of Empress Jones, too proud to come home and associate with her sister Fortresses.” After the celebration, Colonel Bullock asked Lieutenant Blake and three other pilots to report to his tent for a brief conference. Arriving a moment after the rest, Barry noted that he was the only Fortress skipper present. The others were twin-engine pilots, who had made fine bombing records during the recent slaughter of the Jap convoy. They were Captain Rand Bartlett, Lieutenant Thurman Smith, and Lieutenant Ben Haskins. The four young officers sprang to their feet and saluted as the colonel appeared. Bullock waved them to canvas-bottomed chairs. “I’ve been asked to supply four of my best bomber crews,” he told them, “for a secret and difficult mission. What that mission is I don’t know myself, but you are to fly B-26 planes. The orders from headquarters stressed a high record of bombing hits. You’re to take off before daylight tomorrow and fly to Port Darwin. There you will doubtless learn more details. Have you any questions, gentlemen? You are at perfect liberty to pass up the job—in which case I’ll choose some other crew.” Barry Blake was the first to break the ensuing silence. “I think we all feel alike about it, sir,” he said quietly. “It’s a big honor to be chosen by you under these circumstances. But as Fortress men, my crew and I might not measure up to the best B-26 performance. Those Martin bombers are sweet little ships, but they handle differently from a Boeing. We wouldn’t want to let you down, sir—” “I know all that, Blake,” Colonel Bullock interrupted with a smile. “I chose you and your crew after a good deal of thought, just as I picked Haskins and Bartlett and Smith. You’ve flown twin-engined planes in Advanced Training School and you’ll get the hang of your new B-26 on the way to Darwin. I’ll supply you with a first-class tail gunner to take the place of Tony Romani.... Now, gentlemen, for the last time, do you want the job?” “Yes, sir!” chorused the four pilots. The C.O. arose. One after the other he gripped their hands and wished them good hunting. In that moment he seemed more like a proud parent than their superior officer. The four young officers knew that they had found a lifelong friend in Colonel Bullock.