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The Gremlins Complete Text

Gus switched over his radio. "Red two calling control. Tally ho, tally ho, going into attack. Over."

"Hello, Red two, control calling. Message received. Good luck. Over."

He was catching up, but not fast enough. The Hun had seen him and was going flat out.

"Better pull the plug," Gust thought; "that always helps." Yes, that did help for a moment.

But Gus never had a chance. The German pilot, using one of the oldest tricks in the world, waited for him to come up close. Then, like lightning, he throttled back and at the same time applied just a little bit of flap. The Heinkel seemed to stop dead in the air, and the Hurricane shot past before Gus could do anything about it.

The German rear-gunner was waiting for him. He raked the Hurricane from stem to stern as it passed, and Gus's right leg fell limply off the rudder bar. He had stopped two bullets, one through the kneecap and one in the ankle.

It hurt like blazes and was bleeding fast. The Hurricane was almost out of control because gremlins were out on the wings, boring holes, jerking at control cables, and hammering on the cockpit cover. There was a gang of at least twelve of them working on the port gas tank with drills!

Everything was going wrong. Gus's head was spinning and everything started to go hazy.