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Both olive drab Gooney Birds had navigation lights burning on the wings and atop the vertical stabilizer. The only lights illuminated on the dull black Gooney Bird were inside, on the control panel before the pilot, Darmstadter, and the copilot, Canidy; otherwise the aircraft was completely dark as it sat with its engines idling.
Darmstadter keyed his microphone and said, “Ready when you are, Mother Roo One. Get us the hell out of here.”
The pilot chuckled, then said, “Roger that, Joey.”
The air-to-air radio frequency went quiet, and Canidy then heard the pilot’s voice of Mother Roo One transmitting on the control tower frequency.
“Algiers Control, Sandbox Four Four Three,” he said.
“Four Four Three, Algiers Control, go ahead,” the air traffic controller replied with a British accent.
“Sandbox Four Four Three at Dellys, departing to the east for local flight plan. Note that we are one of two C-47 aircraft and that we will be dropping sticks. Acknowledge.”
“Four Four Three, Algiers Control understands you are at Dellys and one of two aircraft departing to the east for paratrooper activity. There is no other air traffic in your area. You are cleared for takeoff. The sky is yours. But do remember that you are ordered to remain within your restricted airspace. Acknowledge.”
Canidy smiled as Darmstadter gave the finger in the direction of Algiers Control.
“Understood,” Mother Roo One replied in an annoyed tone.
The aircraft’s bright landing lights came on and its Twin Wasp engines roared.
“Sandbox Four Four Three rolling.”
After a moment, Mother Roo One rumbled past the nose of Joey in a flash.
Then Canidy heard the other pilot’s voice in his headset.
“Algiers Control, Sandbox Niner One Two.”
Canidy noticed that the second C-47—with its navigation lights still lit but not its landing lights—did not move forward on the threshold of the dirt strip.
“Go, One Two,” the Brit controller replied, now sounding annoyed or bored or both.
“We are at Dellys with Four Three.”
“One Two cleared for takeoff. Have a nice flight. Stay in your box.”
“Roger that. One Two rolling.”
Canidy, expecting the second olive drab aircraft to flash past, was caught off guard when Darmstadter’s voice came over the air-to-air.
“Mother Roo Two, Joey hopping in.”
“Roger that, Joey.”
Darmstadter lined up with the dirt strip. He locked the brakes, checked the magnetos, and then ran up both engines to takeoff power. The Gooney Bird began trembling. He released the brakes, and the aircraft moved in darkness down the runway, then became airborne.
Darmstadter made turns to follow the nav lights of Mother Roo One as she made a slow circle above the airstrip. Canidy then saw below that Mother Roo Two had turned on her landing lights and was taking off.
Five minutes later, the three aircraft had joined up. Joey was five hundred feet below and another five hundred feet behind Mother Roo One. And Mother Roo Two was five hundred feet below and behind Joey.
Exactly ten minutes later, after hopping the ridge and passing the coastline, the three aircraft continued out over the sea for one mile.
“Godspeed, Hank,” the voice of the pilot of Mother Roo One came over the air-to-air.
“See you shortly,” Darmstadter replied.
At a cruise speed of 160, Darmstadter had calculated that they could be back at Dellys in six or so hours, faster if he decided to burn more fuel.
