The coxswain, big Tom Tingle, fished him out a suit of lammies, the warm
gray woollen garments which are the regular cold weather wear of the
British Navy, and, as soon as he had got into them, put a mug of steaming
cocoa into his hands.
[Illustration: A friendly salute in passing.]
[Illustration: The landing party at Sari Bair reached the beach covered by
the fire of their own guns.]
'Prime stuff, ain't it, Ken?' said Dave, and Ken, as he felt the grateful
warmth creeping through his chilled frame, nodded. Then he and Dave were
given a couple of blankets apiece, and with the beat of the powerful
engines as a lullaby were soon sleeping soundly.
When they awoke, the gray dawn light was stealing through the hatch
overhead, and the smart little ship lay at anchor, rocking peacefully to
the lift of a gentle swell.
'Rouse out, you chaps,' came Tingle's voice. 'Rouse out, if you want some
breakfast. The old man's going to put you aboard the 'Charnwood' to finish
your voyage.
Pages:
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33