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Updated: May 10, 2025
"Very interesting, eh?" the marshal pursued. "Jed, your artillery is massed here. It's a shame that General Jack Altshuler has taken a commission with Carbonaceous Fuel. We could use his cavalry. He would be our J.E.B. Stuart, eh?" Lieutenant Colonel Paul Warren cleared his throat unhappily. "Sir, Jack Altshuler is the best cavalryman in North America." "I would be the last to deny it, Paul."
"But I've got a gun and he hasn't," Joe growled. "Good!" Freddy snapped at him. They had cut away from the lightplane and Joe headed for the area which Cogswell had ordered him particularly to keep scanned. Jack Altshuler was a fox, in combat. His heavy cavalry had more than once swung a fracas. At the same time, he kept himself alert for the other gliders.
The two enemy craft were hot after them, their guns flac, flac, flacing in continuous excitement, trying to catch Joe in sights, as he kicked rudder, right, left, right, in evasive maneuver. He guess had been correct. The swashbuckling Jack Altshuler had know his many times commander even better than Cogswell had realized.
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