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When the survivors fell back to the communication trench that also was blown in their face. "Oh, but we were having a merry party!" as Lieutenant Vandenberg put it. Niven and his lieutenants were moving here and there to the point of each new explosion to ascertain the amount of damage and to decide what was to be done as the result.
A captain named Haranguer concerted with one Adrien Vandenberg a plan for the surprise of Breda, on the possession of which Prince Maurice had set a great value. One of the soldiers, named Matthew Helt, being suddenly afflicted with a violent cough, implored his comrades to put him to death, to avoid the risk of a discovery.
People, both military and civilian, evidently didn't much care what Generals Vandenberg, Norstad, Le May, or Colonel McCoy thought; they didn't believe what they were seeing were hallucinations, reflections, or balloons. What they were seeing were UFO's, whatever UFO's might be.
But they say, "Un peu de repos, après, vous verrez, mon général." During my peregrinations I struck the Headquarters of the Mediterranean Brigade under General Vandenberg, who came round his own men with me. A sturdy, thickset fair man with lots of go and very cheery. He is of Dutch descent.
Of the six hundred and thirty-five men who had begun the fight at daybreak, one hundred and fifty men and four officers, Niven, Pappineau, Clark and Vandenberg, remained fit for duty. Vandenberg is a Hollander, but mostly he is Vandenberg. To him the call of youth is the call to arms. He knows the roads of Europe and the roads of Chihuahua.
While the people on Project Sign were pondering over Lieutenant Gorman's dogfight with the UFO at the time they weren't even considering the balloon angle the Top Secret Estimate of the Situation was working its way up into the higher echelons of the Air Force. It got to the late General Hoyt S. Vandenberg, then Chief of Staff, before it was batted back down.
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