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Show Flying - 147 One boat noses up on the beach and stops. John Henry can hear blank cartridges popping and the occasional descending whistle and sharp blast of the big M-80 firecrackers that simulate artillery. The other boats are only a few yards offshore. "Nine o'clock," says Wilberforce looking at his watch, "almost three hours late." John Henry looks around at him. When he looks back, it has all come to a stop. Three more craft have landed, but the others seem to be turning back, and the men from the beached ones are just standing around. Referees are coming out of the bushes, their white armbands clearly visible with the naked eye even from up here. Everybody is standing in a big circle, but John Henry can't make out what's in the middle. "What are they all looking at, sir? Can you see it?" he says to the lieutenant. Wilberforce is leaning forward with intense concentration, squinting through the binoculars. "Can't see a thing," he says. "There's something down there on the sand, but they're all around it and I can't see what it is." "Whatever it is, they've stopped the whole exercise for it," John Henry says. "The other boats are heading back out." "I think it might be a man," says Wilberforce, his eyes still tight against the binoculars. "I thought I saw a body |
