p the glory trail with the
hydrogen gorged balloons tugging at their cables, waiting like gloating
monsters for their victims, out of the notch and up they went.

"Tight formation," Allison droned. And Stan in the right-hand slot
shoved in closer to the roaring monster in the lead.

"Contacting Liberators," Allison drawled.

Stan looked out and saw the dull forms of the thirty ton battle cruisers
of the air sliding along below. The big fellows were cutting through the
night at a terrific pace considering their pay loads and their own
weight. Their 4,800 horsepower hurled them on at a pace that made the
Spitfires and the Defiants hustle.

Red Flight took its place high above the drifting Liberators. Below
would be the Defiants and on each side the Spitfires and Hurricanes. It
was a big show and would soon be on.

"St. Omer with the field at Astree Blanche as the objective," Stan
muttered to himself. This was a change in plans made after a careful
study of the hunchback's little book. It would not be so bad as flying
deep into Nazi country.

"Heather Raid," Stan muttered and grinned. The High Command was sending
a great flight of bombers and fighters to blast enemy positions and
they called it Heather Raid.

"Heather Raid--Heather Raid--rendezvous--zero hour." That was the
Squadron Leader. Stan watched and listened. Nothing more came in and
Allison kept flying straight ahead.

They were drifting along above the clouds. There was a moon and plenty
of stars. The pale light made the squadron look like a school of fishes
swimming through a blue-black sea. The clouds would be fine for everyone
but the Jerries. Down below the Hurricanes would be slipping in and out
of the clouds, watching, taking bearings, whispering up to the giants
above, telling them what they couldn't see.

"Red Flight, go down. Yellow Flight up." The Squadron Leader spoke
tersely as though he had sighted enemy planes coming up.

Stan peeled off and went down, with Allison and O'Malley trailing into
formation. They hit the clouds, punched through and saw lights winking
below. They were solitary lights and revealed little. Perhaps they were
ship's lights on the channel. Then they went back up through the clouds
and took a place below the Liberators. Stan glanced up at the big ships.
The British had changed the name of those Consolidated B Y 3's to
Liberator. It was a proper change, Stan thought.

Suddenly a bank of cloud on the right and above w