Death Trap: A World War II Story

By Jack B Patton

When Lieutenant Barker and his side-kick battle to defend the Canal Zone, sabotaging spies and Nazi U-Boats get a taste of what Americans mean by war!

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pattonstones Digitals
• Release date: Sep 14, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215576953

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When Lieutenant Barker and his side-kick battle to defend the Canal Zone, sabotaging spies and Nazi U-Boats get a taste of what Americans mean by war!

CHAPTER I

Special Orders

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COMMANDER C. K. BUCKLEY, of the Forty-ninth Scout Bomber Group, U. S. Naval Aviation, Canal Zone Area, tossed the official-looking yellow slip of paper on the Ready-Office desk, and half nodded at the two score or more eagle-eyed pilots and gunner-observers gathered about him.

Well, there it is, fellows, he said.

Defense Operation Sixteen from now on, 1942 and for keeps. You’ve all got your orders and instructions. No need to go over them again. However, there’s one part I do want to repeat— and paste it in your helmets! If any of you go down—and I mean, shot down, a forced landing, or an act of God—don’t let a peep about your tough luck go out over the radio.

The commander paused, fished for a cigarette, and lit up.

That's important! he continued, after a moment. "We don’t know what enemy ships are on the waters in this neck of the world, and less about craft that may be under it. An SOS, and your position, will be heard by anybody listening in. It might be one of our own merchant ships close by. Her skipper might go soft-hearted and change course to give you aid.

A U-boat may be waiting right there—and the loss would be more than it should have been, So remember! Use your radio only when you sight enemy craft, and go in to attack. There aren't any exceptions, no matter what. Well, shove off. Good luck, and try not to get your feet wet.

A final smile and a nod dismissed the group. Like an eager bunch of school kids busting outside for recess they went stampeding through the Ready-Office door and across the sun- flooded field of the Chagres Naval Air Station to the double row of Wright-powered Douglas Dauntless scout-bombers on the far side.

Two of the group that charged over to the waiting planes could well have been twins; only they weren’t. Both stood five-eleven from flying boot soles to helmet tassel. Both tipped the beam at a hundred and eighty-five in their birthday suits. And both had hard, rugged faces that would not be good for advertising Arrow collars, but which wouldn’t scare little children, either.

In background and family, though, they were as opposite as the poles. Lieutenant Jake Barker’s first toy had been a gold-plated miniature bat-tleship given him by his grandfather, the late Vice Admiral Barker, one of Dewey’s line officers. He had grown up with gold-dust, gun-powder, and salt spray in his nose, and managed not to let any of it spoil him.

He had taken his lumps at Annapolis the same as any of the other fellows, not letting the fact that his grandfather had been a vice admiral either hinder him or help him. He had graduated fourth in his class in Thirty-five, and had gone straight into Naval Aviation.

For the last year he had been assigned to scout-bombers. Both high rankers and low rankers alike agreed that he was tops in any kind of a sky crate, but particularly in scout-bombers.

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ENSIGN MIKE CHEVISKI’S father had been born in Poland, and his mother in Ireland. Mike had first seen the light of day on the tough side of Milwaukee. At five he had been living with an aunt. Flu had taken his mother and father away. From then on a smart head on his shoulders, and a hammer-head fist at the end of each arm had thought out, and pounded a way through life for him.

His football really had put him through Wisconsin. And it had been in the Navy-Wisconsin game that these two opposites had met for the first time—head-on. For a full sixty minutes they had beat the tar out of each other. And when they finally staggered off the field, with a tie score for their aches and bruises, the Fates must have decided that there were 4 pairs that matched up good for things to come in the future.

Perhaps not, though. Perhaps it just so happened that. Mike Cheviski got a sudden yen for flying in his last year at Wisconsin. Perhaps it just sort of happened that he