The shaken motion suddenly ceased. First Lieutenant Davies of USAAC peered out through his googles. The sky was clear of flak. "We're through the flak zone," his co-pilot said. First Lieutenant Jingo Paul looked at his commander and smiled. "Are we all here?" Davies asked on the intercom. "Arnold and Stace are here, cheek gunner stations." "J.J. here in the ball turret, alive and kicking." "Rogers and Alvin O.K." "Baker here," the radio operator said,"Guler is unconscious in the tail. Shot arm." "Alright, Baker, fix him up," Davies ordered, and then asked, "Dwight, are we in the clear?" "No 109s boss," the flight engineer responded. "And lo and behold," he theatrically added, "The sun arriveth!"
The heavyset Boeing aircraft got out of the cloud, the sunlight streaming in through the cockpit windows. Other bombers surrounded The Lucky Lass X David's Star. "THIS IS THE LEADER WASHINGTON TO ALL NINETY-SEVENTH PILOTS. WE ARE GOING HOME." And the strong B-17s turned for home.