"Definitely not!" Freddy groaned. Then he added quickly, "Not that I don't think these Navy chaps are top-hole, and all that. A very keen bunch of beggars, and they'll make good pilots, all of them. And you and I have flown enough with the Navy in the past to like it as much as flying with the Army. It's not that, either. It's ... well, frankly, it's because I'm so blasted selfish, I'm afraid." "Yes, you sure are, when it comes to snagging the odd piece of pie," Dawson said with a grin. "That, though, is the fault of that bottomless stomach of yours, and you can't help yourself. Just what do you mean by that last remark?" "Just what I said, that I'm selfish," young Farmer replied. "Let some other chap have this instructing grind. I want to be on one of the fronts where there's action, and lots of it." "Freddy, the old fire eater," Dawson chuckled. "But you've also got something there, too. So would I, and how! However ..." He let the rest slide and emphasized it with a shrug. Freddy Farmer frowned at him in a puzzled manner. "See?" he eventually cried. "That's what I mean. The way you are now. Completely licked, you seem like. Blessed if it's like you, Dave. Have you gone sour on something?" "Heck, no!" Dawson cried, and sat up straight. "And don't get any dopey ideas that I feel licked about anything. I'm just biding my time, that's all. I mean, that something's bound to pop. It always has. It's just that I'm finally getting around to realizing that you can't push things along. You've just got to keep your shirt on when things get slow, and realize that there'll be plenty of fireworks sooner or later." "Well, well, the chap must be growing up, after all," Freddy Farmer murmured. Then, before Dawson could open his mouth to make a retort, he said, "There must have been at least a hundred of us that came back to the States by Army Air Transport planes, wouldn't you say?" "Yeah, more or less," Dawson grunted with a nod. "So what?" "So what?" young Farmer echoed sharply. "So why?" "Ye gods, right back where we started!" Dawson groaned. "The old rotation idea, that's why. A bit of front line service, and then a bit of back home service, passing out your knowledge to those who have yet to see action. For Pete's sake, Freddy! What's so mysterious about that? Maybe it is a bit odd that we were stationed at a Naval Aviation base. However, perhaps the idea is to get Army and Navy pilots to know one another better. Too much rivalry between services is just as bad as none at all, you know." "Well, I do, now that you've explained, sir!" Freddy barked at him. "But you still haven't answered my question. I mean, with the invasion of Hitler's Europe bound to pop any day now, why in the world send a hundred or more seasoned pilots _away_ from England? Answer me that." The corners of Dawson's mouth twitched in a grin, but Freddy didn't see it.