Books with author Robert Sydney Bowen

Dave Dawson is on another adventure to take down the Nazis and restore freedom to Europe. This time he fights alongside the elite forces of the commandos. Join Dave as he pilots a Lockheed P-38 Lightning fighter and outwits hapless Nazis when he is captured. Alacrity Press is proud to make this class fictional tale, Dave Dawson With the Commandos by Robert Sidney Bowen available once more to young readers.

"Speaking to me, little man?" he murmured. "Only because you happen to be the only one present," young Farmer snapped. Then, with a wave toward the rain-swept window panes, he said, "I was remarking that I should know better than ever to believe a word you say. Beautiful California? Good grief! Just look at it!" "Look at what?" Dawson chuckled. "That slight dew that's falling? Think nothing of it. Good for the crops." "Dew, he says!" Freddy snorted. And then as a vivid flash of lightning blinded them both for a split second, to be followed by a bellow of thunder that seemed to lift the whole building right up off its foundations, he added quickly, "And that, I suppose, was just some chap out there striking a match?" "Could be," Dawson laughed.

Very much like a little boy who is seeing his first Christmas tree, Freddy Farmer stared pop-eyed out the Clipper's lounge window and down at the man-made magic that was New York City. For a full five minutes he had been gaping at the sight, not moving a muscle, not making a sound, and practically holding his breath all of the time. At his side and with an arm thrown across the English-born R.A.F. ace's shoulders was Dave Dawson, grinning from ear to ear, and getting the kick of his life out of the spell that a first look at Gotham had cast upon his bosom pal, and hard-hitting flying partner.Finally he couldn't wait any longer to hear what Freddy had to say."Well?" he encouraged."Well, what?" Freddy murmured in little more than a whisper."What do you think of the old town, huh?" Dave asked with a happy chuckle.The English youth blinked, swallowed hard, and gave a little uncertain shake of his head."Unbelievable, incredible!" he finally got out. "Are—are those really buildings down there? The New York skyscrapers I've heard so much about?"By way of making his question clear, Freddy pointed at the towering heaps of stone that formed the Wall Street and midtown sections of the city. Dave squinted down and grunted."Those little shacks?" he echoed. "Why, those are just the little huts where the poor people live. Wait until you see the real buildings. How high are we, anyway? Hope the pilot of this thing stays over three thousand feet. Be tough to smack into a skyscraper, you know."Freddy Farmer snorted and dug an elbow into Dawson's ribs."Oh, come off it, funny lad!" he snapped. "That one wasn't even worth a quiet smile. Point out some of the buildings, will you? The Empire State Building. Where is it, anyway?"

Okay, okay! Dave Dawson growled, and rolled over to a more comfortable position in the hotel bed. "It’s dear old England. A wonderful country, a great place. And you're tickled silly to be here. Okay, I agree with every word you say. God save the King, and there'll always be an England. Now, will you let a guy get some sleep?" "But you don't understand what it means to me, Dave." Freddy Farmer spoke through the darkness from the other bed. "This is my native land, my home, and I've—" "Gone completely screwy!" Dawson snapped. "Sweet tripe! You were here only two days ago. Two days you've been away, and you're sounding off as though you'd been away for a million years. Just a two day jaunt over to France, and the guy starts flag waving. My pal, much as I like you, you are a pain in seventeen different places at the same time. Go to sleep, you bow-legged Commando!" "Just what I've said quite often," Freddy said placidly. "It takes an Englishman to really appreciate his homeland. Two years or two days, what does it matter? The joy that is his upon arriving back home is always the same. Do you see what I mean, Dave?" Dawson groaned, sat up in bed, and switched on the table lamp. But as he did so he took a quick automatic glance at the room windows to make sure that the blackout curtains were drawn and securely fastened. Then he hunched around in bed and glared at his closest and dearest friend in the world.