The pallid moonlight shone on him--a green giant who must have been five or six hundred feet tall. He was wading waist deep in the water--wading, not at us, thank heavens, but parallel to the beach, toward Sandy Hook by the entrance to New York Harbor. The moonlight shone on his glistening torso--green scales and a slimy sea-look as though algae and barnacles might be clustered on it. A Green Giant almost in human form. Anyway, I remember that he had a browny chest that bulged out over the ocean surface; wide thick shoulders and monstrous arms that dangled down into the water as he strode forward, with a line of white waves churning at his waist. I saw his face plainly. You couldn’t call it human, but that was its general idea. He was breathing through his mouth now with a snort that was a gruesome rumbling roar; but I could see that he had gills or some such apparatus in the sides of his neck. For a minute maybe Baldy and I and Lisbeth must have just sat there stricken, numb, with the body of Porky beside us. And then suddenly an immense amount of amazing things began to happen all more or less simultaneously. In the town behind us the air-raid siren began wailing. Then searchlights from several spots on shore sprang like great waving silver swords in the sky. Then, far out to sea there was the drone of planes. An air raid! New York City being raided by Nazi planes! The Green Giant had nothing to do with the first alarm here on shore. It was planes coming in from the ocean. We heard them; and in a few seconds we saw them--four of them, flying low; Nazi planes--the moonlight disclosed it. Who am I to try to picture exactly what happened next? It was quite a chaos. All I can remember is that one of the planes swerved low pretty close over the Green Giant. I imagine that Nazi pilot was sort of startled--can you blame him? Anyway, suddenly the giant let out a bellow of anger; his hand reached up a hundred feet or so over his head and grabbed the plane--seized it, crunched it maybe and then flung it away. The plane was a long finger of yellow-red flames as it fell hissing into the sea. I recall I heard Baldy mutter: “Ah--good work! Very neat!” Good work! That tipped me off. I admit that in all the chaos the main fact had not yet occurred to me. You’ve guessed it. Porky! By some mischance for Hitler, quite evidently Der Fuehrer had selected this particular night for his threatened bombing of New York. Here were his bombing planes--four of them. And there was Porky, in the person of that astonishing green giant, going to work on them. Those Nazi pilots evidently got rattled. They gave up their ideas of heading up the bay and for a moment were circling here like a flock of confused birds. They were too far away now for Porky to clutch at them, so he stooped. One of his hands came up out of the sea with a monstrous dripping boulder. He flung it, and another plane crashed.