That’s when he heard the roar approaching, like thunder that rolled on and on. What the hell was that? He was used to the sound of approaching Corsairs, but this was something louder, and faster. Just as the noise reached a shrieking crescendo, a shadow swept overhead and machine-gun fire blazed across the clearing, scattering the enemy troops. Whoosh. The plane swept over the clearing and was gone. Cole realized that he was seeing a jet in action. It was the first of these new, fast planes that he had seen up close.

But there was no time to stop and watch the action. Cole was forgotten in the frenzy caused by the plane, and he took the opportunity to plunge back into the woods. That plane had just saved his bacon. Although he was back into the cover of the thicket, he still had to run the gauntlet of the Chinese soldiers on the path to his left. Lucky for Cole, the roar of the plane masked the sound he made crashing through the brush.

Normally, Cole could move quietly, but stealth required time that he didn’t have. He had to get back to his squad and warn them — hell, he had to get back to the whole damn American line with news that there was most of a Chinese army on their doorstep.

He dashed through the woods, grateful that the plane had swept back in for another go at the Chinese troops. Cole paused just long enough to pick off one of the soldiers who was watching the woods beside the trail — dead men tell no tales — then ran out on the other side of the thicket, where Tommy Wilson was staring at him, wide-eyed. Better-known as the kid, the two of them had been serving together in Korea since coming ashore at Pusan.

“We’ve got to vamoose, boys!” Cole shouted. “There’s a whole mess of goons on the other side of those trees.”

They didn’t need to be told twice, not with the sound of firing coming from the other side of the thicket. The Chinese troops back there were firing at the plane that had come back to pester them for a third strafing run. The squad turned and hot-footed it out of there.

Cole lagged behind, covering them. Sure enough, the Chinese soldiers who had been on the path came running ahead. Cole picked off the first man, worked the bolt, then shot another. But the third man had a submachine gun, which he opened up with. Bullets churned the branches as the first burst went high. The Chinese soldier wouldn’t miss again.

From just behind Cole came two quick rifle shots. The Chinese soldier with the submachine gun went down.

Cole glanced up to see the kid lowering his M-1. “Kid, what are you still doing here?”

“You don’t have to fight the whole Chinese army yourself, you know.”

“I don’t plan on it, kid.”

“You could’ve fooled me.”

The dense brush on either side of the trail created a bottleneck, forcing the enemy to advance in single file. The kid fired a couple more shots at the path, forcing the oncoming Chinese to fall back.

They heard more roaring overhead. Cole looked up and was surprised to see several planes in the sky. Not all of the aircraft were American. There had been rumors that the enemy also had jet fighters, thanks to the Russians. He realized that they were seeing these enemy jet fighters for the first time.

As the aircraft soared higher, he spotted the flashes that indicated the planes were firing at one another. A rocket streaked across the sky and one of the fast-moving planes erupted in flames.

“Holy moly,” the kid said, gazing up in wonder. It was an incredible spectacle, like watching the gods battle in the heavens. One thing for sure was that they weren’t going to get any more help from the pilot, who now had problems of his own, with several enemy fighters on his tail. Cole wished him luck.

Even the Chinese on the trail had stopped firing to take in the aerial dogfight above. Cole thought it was the perfect chance to make a run for it.

“Let’s go, kid,” Cole said. “That pilot just saved my bacon again.”

He and the kid ran until they had caught up with the others, who were waiting just ahead, crouched in a bend in the trail. Like everyone else, their eyes were on the dogfight happening above. One by one, planes burst into flame or streamed smoke as they cartwheeled from the sky and disappeared from sight. At least one of the planes shot down appeared to be American. To their amazement, it had become clear that there was just one American plane and several enemy jets. The American pilot looped and rolled, trying to shake off multiple opponents.

“That pilot is chewing them up,” the kid said.

“He’s a right good pilot, that’s for damn sure, but he’s outnumbered.”

The pilot’s luck didn’t last. There was a plane behind him, and one coming up on his belly. Silver ribbons of sunlight flashed off his wings as he maneuvered, trying to shake off the enemy.

“C’mon, c’mon, watch out,” the kid muttered, urging the pilot on.

Finally, a rocket etched a trail across the sky, faster than the U.S. plane could maneuver. The rocket caught a piece of the tail and exploded. It wasn’t a direct hit, but it was enough for the jet to go into a death spiral, shedding a trail of black smoke tinged with flame. One of the enemy planes had finally clipped the eagle’s wings.

“That poor bastard is done for,” Cole muttered.

They watched the U.S. jet going down, saddened by the spectacle. But then, a parachute bloomed in the sky. The American pilot had managed to eject. The enemy jets roared past, letting him go rather than shooting him down. There seemed to be some element of decency that remained among pilots, enemies or not.

The white parachute drifted toward the north, in the direction from which the Chinese force had been marching. The kid seemed to read Cole’s mind.

“He’s going to land right in the middle of Indian Country,” the kid said.

“Yeah,” Cole agreed. He shook his head. “There’s nothing but hills and enemy troops where that pilot was heading.”

One of the other soldiers in the squad spoke up. “He’s not our problem. Right now, we’ve got problems of our own. Those Chinese are right on our tail.”

Cole thought about that. “All right, you guys go on back to warn the regiment.”

“What about you?”

“I’m gonna see if I can find that pilot.”

“What do you care? If you ask me, he’s a goner.”

“He’s one of ours. That makes him our problem. The way I figure it, we owe him one. Like I said before, you guys vamoose.”

Nobody moved.

“What are you waiting for? Get a move on, boys. Somebody had got to warn headquarters about the Chinese head their way.”

The kid shook his head. “You still don’t get it, do you, Hillbilly? You’re forgetting that the rest of us are even here. We’re not letting you do this alone.”

“All right, kid, have it your way. You come with me. The rest of you go on back. The kid and I will have a better chance if we do this on our own. That’s an order.”

“All right,” said Dowling, a squad veteran who looked clearly relieved that he would be heading in the opposite direction from the enemy. He and the other soldiers headed up the trail toward the relative safety of the main American line two miles away. With luck, they would arrive in just enough time to provide a warning about the approaching enemy force.

“Let’s get a move on,” Cole said to the kid. “The Chinese will be after that pilot, too, sure as flies on horse apples.”

“Everyone for miles around saw that dogfight,” the kid agreed.

“If we’re lucky, we’ll find this pilot before dark and skedaddle back to our lines. I don’t want to be out here at night, not with the hills crawling with goons and God knows what else.”

“But we can’t use the trail. Not with all the enemy back there.”

“Who said anything about a trail?” Cole produced a compass and took a bearing on the direction where they had last glimpsed the parachute descending. He put the compass in his pocket and nodded toward the nearest hill. “This way,” he said.