Young Shorty Smith

"Gee whillikers!" yelped young Shorty Smith as the 12,000-pound blockbuster dropped gracefully from the Lancaster's open belly. "I sure wish I was up in that airplane instead of down here on the roof of the German munitions factory! What a pickle we're in now, Spy Smasher!" 

"Yes, I suppose we should have checked with the RAF before smashing the spy ring we found here," mused Spy Smasher philosophically. "But at least that ring will be double smashed, along with tens of thousands of rounds of Ratzi ammo." 

"Golly, Spy Smasher, if a plucky kid from Oklahoma has to die, well, dying for democracy has got to be the best way!" 

"Chin up, Shorty--we're not dead yet. I just happened to bring my jet pack, and you're light enough to carry along." 

"A jet pack! Wow! Wait--what's a jet pack?" 

"It's like a little V2 you strap onto your back--like this--and we're the payload! Up, up, and away!" 

"KABOOM!" yelled the blockbuster just as the plucky Allied troopers soared off into the clouds. 

"ARGH!" cried the munitions plant as it was blown into smithereens.