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back, watching her wave good-bye. He waved back, even though she could not see him in the darkness. There was no moon, and the fear that had come to him rose again. He shook his shoulders as if to rid himself of something irritating. “What’s wrong with you, Winslow?” he muttered. “Don’t tell me you’re becoming a sissy in your old age!”
    ****
    The squadron was not called out for the next two days, which was highly unusual. They were all on standby alert, however, and could not leave the airfield. Luke was getting edgy and nervous and was unable to shake off his fear.
    Finally, almost in desperation, he said, “Streak, I’m going to go up and take a look around. Something’s wrong.”
    â€œI’ll go with you, Luke.”
    â€œNo. You stay here.”
    â€œYou need a backup.”
    â€œI won’t be doing any fighting. If I see any 109s, I’ll tuck my tail and run. I just feel that something’s wrong.”
    â€œI feel that most of the time!”
    â€œYou keep your eye on things around here, Streak.”
    â€œWatch your back.”
    â€œI’ll do that.”
    Luke climbed into the I-16 and started the engine, and fifteen minutes later was looking down on the earth. He searched for enemy formations but saw nothing unusual. It saddened him to see the beautiful countryside below him so scarred by war.
    He flew until he was running low on fuel, and then at two o’clock he turned back toward the field. He had not gone far when he spotted a large formation of enemy bombers headed west. They were escorted by numerous 109s. There must have been at least thirty of them. Even if Luke had had the remains of his squadron with him, it would have beensuicide to attack those formations. He suddenly realized they were not headed on a mission; they were returning from one. He carefully stayed in the clouds until they disappeared, then increasing his air speed, he headed for the airfield, planning the battle that was coming.
    Just before they disappeared he caught a glimmer of black. “That’s Ritter’s plane,” he said bitterly. “One day it’ll be just me and him, one on one.”
    He arrived back at the field and taxied up to the hangars. As he jumped to the ground, he saw Streak running toward him. “I didn’t see anything up there except a big formation of bombers,” Luke told his friend. “They’ve been on a raid, I think.”
    â€œLuke . . .” Streak said nervously, then suddenly broke off.
    â€œWhat is it?” Luke knew that Streak Garrison was a hard man to unsettle, but something had done the job. “Tell me, what is it? What’s happened?”
    â€œIt’s not good news, Luke.”
    The fear that had been troubling Luke for several days now became more powerful. A horrible possibility occurred to him, one he didn’t even want to contemplate. “What happened?” he finally had to ask.
    â€œThose bombers you saw bombed the town where the Chavezes live.”
    â€œBut there’s no military target there.”
    â€œI know that. There wasn’t one in Guernica either, but they bombed it anyway. I haven’t gone over there myself, but people are saying it’s bad.”
    Luke tore away from Streak and broke into a run. Still in his flying gear, he jumped into his car and drove like a maniac toward the Chavez home.
    They’re all right. They have to be all right. He forced the thought into his mind, but it seemed to flutter and ignore his will. He had been afraid in action before, but this was a different kind of fear, one he could not control.
    When he was halfway there, he saw smoke rising and hegasped. He had not seen Guernica after it was bombed, but he knew that sixteen hundred civilians had been killed or wounded in the senseless raid.
    As soon as he came in sight of the town, his worst fears were realized. People were carefully moving through piles of