If you thought Elmer Hubbard and Pokey Cook were a couple of wild Indians before, just wait until you see them with their war paint and feathers on! Even C.O. Mulligan had to listen to their war whoops with a smile.
The moment Buzz Benson flew over that landing field near the Mississippi River, he knew that something strange, something ghastly, had happened. A weird glow filled the air, and a white dust coated the field like snow. And on that tarmac, where men lay huddled and telephone bells remained unanswered, nothing moved— nothing stirred. Yet it was not death that had claimed them.
Handley-Page No. 13 was just an old hack, battered by months of night flying for the Independent Air Force. Her sides were patched, her wings weary from too many foldings. The crew of Handley-Page No. 13 was just an ordinary bomber gang, as battered and bruised as their plane. But see what happens when these scrappers are accused of bombing their own troops.
