On Dangerous Ground Read Free

miles. They took the opportunity to refuel and then pressed on to the most hazardous section of the trip, the five hundred and fifty miles over the Hump to the Assam airfields.
    Conditions were appalling, heavy rain and thunderstorms, and the kind of turbulence that threatened to break the plane up. Several hundred aircrew had died making this run over the past couple of years, Campbell knew that. It was probably the most hazardous flying duty in the RAF or the USAF. He wondered what persuaded men to volunteer for such work and while thinking about it, actually managed some sleep, only surfacing as they came into their Assam destination to refuel.
    The onward trip to Delhi was another eleven hundred miles and a completely different proposition. Blue skies, considerable heat, and no wind to speak of. The Dakota coasted along at ten thousand feet and Caine, leaving the flying to Giffard, came back and tried to get a couple of hours’ sleep.
    Campbell dozed again and came awake to find the wireless operator shaking Caine by the shoulder. “Delhi in fifteen minutes, Skipper.”
    Caine got up, yawning. He grinned at Campbell. “Piece of cake this leg, isn’t it?”
    As he turned away there was an explosion. Pieces of metal flew off the port engine, there was thick black smoke, and as the propeller stopped turning, the Dakota banked and dived steeply, throwing Caine off his feet.
    Campbell was hurled against the bulkhead behind with such force that he was almost knocked senseless. The result was that he couldn’t really take in what was happening. There was a kind of nightmare as if the world was breaking up around him, the impact of the crash, the smell of burning and someone screaming.
    He was aware of being in water, managed to focus his eyes, and found himself being dragged through a paddy field by a wild-eyed Tanner, blood on his face. The Corporal heaved him onto a dyke, then turned and hurried back, knee-deep in water, to the Dakota which was burning fiercely now. When he was halfway there, it blew up with a tremendous explosion.
    Debris cascaded everywhere and Tanner turned and came back wearily. He eased the Major higher on the dyke and found a tin of cigarettes. His hand shook as he lit one.
    “Are we hit?” Campbell managed to croak.
    “So it would appear, Laird.”
    “Dear God.” Campbell’s hands moved over his chest. “The Bible,” he whispered.
    “Dinna fash yourself, Laird, I’ll hold it safe for you.”
    Tanner took it from the map pocket and then all sounds faded for Campbell, all color, nothing now but quiet darkness.
     
     
    In Chungking, Mountbatten and Stillwell were examining on the map the relentless progress of the advancing Japanese, who had already overrun most of the Allied airfields in eastern China.
    “I thought we were supposed to be winning the war,” Stillwell said.
    Mountbatten smiled ruefully. “So did I.”
    Behind him, the door opened and an aide entered with a signal flimsy. “Sorry to bother you, sir, but this is from Delhi — marked urgent.”
    Mountbatten read it then swore softly. “All right, you can go.”
    “The aide went out. Stillwell said, “Bad news.”
    “The Dakota Campbell was traveling in lost an engine and crashed just outside Delhi. It fireballed after landing. By all accounts, the documents and my dispatches went with it.”
    “Is Campbell dead?”
    “No, that Corporal of his managed to get him out. All the crew were killed. It seems Campbell received a serious head injury. He’s in a coma.”
    “Let’s hope he hangs in there,” Stillwell said. “Anyway, something of a setback for you, your Chungking Covenant going up in flames. What will you do? Try to get Mao to sign another one?”
    “I doubt if I’ll ever get close enough to him again. It was always an anything-is-better-than-nothing situation. I didn’t really expect much to come out of it. Anyway, in my experience, Chinese seldom give you a second bite at the cherry.”
    “I agree,”