u get here?
and in this boat, too!"

"Later, sir, if you don't mind," Freddy spoke up and put a hand on the
General's sleeve. "Please tell us the truth. We've got to know. The
information we gave you wasn't any help? You got it too late?"

General Caldwell stared at him hard, and then shook his head.

"You're dead wrong, Freddy, if you think that," he said in his oddly
soft voice. "I spoke the truth to you in the Lille hospital. Look back
there, both of you."

They turned and with their eyes followed the General's finger pointing
at the beach at Dunkirk.

"That's the last of the British Army to leave France," he spoke again.
"We've been getting them out for days, and against terrific odds. The
only reason I was on that boat that was torpedoed, instead of being back
there to be the last man to leave, was because I had my orders to return
at once and start getting things reorganized. But they will all be in
England before this fog gives the Stukas the chance they want. And
praise to dear God for the fog and the rain he has sent us in these days
of heroic effort. But, what I am trying to say to you, is this. Had I
not received your information in time, thousands upon thousands of those
brave chaps would never have been able to reach Dunkirk in time to be
taken off. They would now be trapped in France and in Belgium. No, boys,
it was not too late. And to you two England owes a debt she will never
be able to repay."

"I'm glad," Freddy whispered softly. "I'm glad it was not too late."

"Gosh, me too," Dave mumbled, and tried to say more but the words
wouldn't come.

And so the three of them: two boys and the General stood there with
their faces turned toward England while the boat cut through the
dawn-greyed swells and the light fog. And then after a long time the fog
lifted and they saw it there ahead.

"Dover!" Freddy said in a choked voice, and tears trickled down his
cheeks. "The chalk cliffs of Dover. England!"

"Yes, the chalk cliffs of Dover, and England," General Caldwell murmured
huskily. "We've taken a pretty bad beating, but it's far from being all
over. We may even take some more beatings. Perhaps several of them. But
in the end we will win. We must win, for there will always be an
England. Always!"

* * * * *

Three days after the world-thrilling evacuation of Dunkirk, Dave Dawson
sat in the living-room of Freddy Farmer's house in Baker Street in
London. Freddy was