DAVE DAWSON
with the R.A.F.

by R. SIDNEY BOWEN

Author of "DAVE DAWSON AT DUNKIRK"

The War Adventure Series

[Transcriber's Note: Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]

THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING COMPANY
AKRON, OHIO       NEW YORK

COPYRIGHT, 1941, BY CROWN PUBLISHERS
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

THE WAR ADVENTURE BOOKS

Dave Dawson and Freddy Farmer are the youngest licensed pilots of the R.A.F. Thrills aplenty are in store for them as they bag German plane after German plane in a series of dare-devil maneuvers. Dropped by parachute into Belgium, deep in Nazi-occupied territory, on a dangerous spy mission, they escape at the risk of their lives with the secret information which enables England to foil the planned German invasion. A fast-moving, pulse-quickening narrative!

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

Two Junkers Less!

Dave Dawson lay on his back, fingers laced behind his head for a pillow, and lazily watched white patches of cloud play tag with each other at some eighteen thousand feet over England. It was the tenth day of September, 1940, and the most glorious summer the British had experienced in forty years was still very much in evidence. The sun was a brassy ball in the heavens that flooded the earth with a warm comforting glow. The birds, the bees, and the butterflies were all around. And the emerald green of the surrounding landscape gave him the feeling that the snow and the cold of winter were two things that would never be experienced in England again.

A perfect summer day! The warm sun, the singing birds, the flowers in bloom—and the war! Twenty miles across the English Channel, less than three minutes by air, Nazi hordes were working day and night toward that great moment when their leader, Adolf Hitler, would give them the order to begin their attempted invasion of England. And on this side of that Channel some forty odd millions of people were also working day and night so that when the order was given, not a single German booted foot would succeed in touching English soil. A beautiful summer day, and the people of the greatest empire on earth were waiting, ready to fight and die to the last man that their empire might continue to survive.

"Well, Pilot Officer Dave Dawson, of His Majesty's Royal Air Force," a voice suddenly spoke in Dave's ear, "I'll give you a penny for your thoughts. No, wait, let me guess. You were thinking about your home in Boston, Massachusetts, back in the States?"

Dave sat up and grinned down at the good-looking, sun-bronzed youth sprawled out on the grass at his side. He shook his head and held out his hand.

"Wrong, Pilot Officer Freddy Farmer, of the same Royal Air Force," he said. "So pay me the penny. I was thinking that it sure is one swell day. And I was wondering if we were going to get a little action, or if Hitler had found out we were now regular active service pilots, and had decided to call off the war."

"Hardly," the English youth said with a chuckle. "True, he's probably scared stiff now that you and I are in the R.A.F. I fancy, though, he isn't that scared. But it's pretty wonderful, isn't it? I mean, to be in the R.A.F."

Dave didn't answer. He let his gaze wander over to the line of Supermarine Spitfires powered with 1030 hp. Rolls Royce "Merlin" engines. Just looking at those swift, man-made metal birds of war made his heart start pounding and the blood surge through his body. An honest to goodness Spitfire pilot in the Royal Air Force! It was like living a wonderful dream, and it was