Malta Story Page #3

Of course, the only thing that limits a

marshalling-yard specialist here is the er..

Iack of marshalling yards.

- Pity.

I was just developing a rather interesting

technique with marshalling yards.

Still, even if you can't have

your puff-puffs,

you still have your little camera.

Views of great interest abound.

I went on a train once.

That was many years ago.

I seem to remember it ran on shiny things

called ''rails''.

No, that may not have been a train.

That may have been a tram,

bouncing along the Embankment at night,

with the river on one side

and the road on the other, going,

''rrrr-yang-yang

yang-yong ying-yang-yong yong

ying-ying.''

That was a Chinese tram,

but you get the idea.

Never mind about the trams.

I've got a job for you right away.

I'd have liked you to have

been able to stooge

around a bit more and get the

feel of things, but this is urgent.

Fly to Brindisi, get the pictures of the

docks and fly straight back here. Got it?

I still take the same photographs

even if the convoy's not there?

Yes.

You've got long-range tanks,

but go easy

on the juice. There's a mighty

shortage on the island.

And remember what I told you

about radio silence.

If you talk while you're up in the air,

the enemy fighters will jump

on you like a pile of bricks.

Never talk to the ground here, OK?

Right.

- Good luck, sir.

- Thank you.

Picture One airborne.

(Atack gunfire)

Your initiative?

Who the devil do you think you are,

messing about taking blasted

pictures 90 miles off your course?

Hasn't it got through to that alleged mind

of yours that we're short of petrol?

Don't you realise that men and ships

are being lost every month

trying to bring the stuff to us?

For what?

So that you can joyride about the sky

looking for ruddy railway stations?

We've got no time for line-shooting amateurs

in this setup, Ross.

Get the transport to Valletta.

The AOC wants to see you at nine.

- Nine?

- Oh, lose yourself.

- Gharry, sir?

- What?

Gharry. You like ride in my gharry?

Not now.

(Children laughing)

- You know this place?

- Been here all my life.

Well, can you tell me

where I can get a decent meal?

- Meal?

- Mangiare.

Mangiare? (Laughs)

(Air-raid siren)

(Children shout playfully)

I'm so sorry.

(Distant explosions)

Maria!

It's not safe to go outside.

- But I'm late, Father.

- They will understand.

(Explosion)

I'll go.

(Bomb whistles)

Flight Lieutenant Ross, sir.

- Ross, you disobeyed orders.

- Yes, sir.

Why?

- I'm sorry, sir.

- Answer my question. Why?

Well, the freight on that train

looked interesting, sir.

I wondered where it came from,

and if there was any more waiting

at the junction further north.

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