The word was out, there was going to be a special delivery to Sandy Bay straight from New York and in time for Christmas.
The Nutts Corner tower had reported that the PB2Y was only about twenty minutes out, and servicemen gathered by the lakeside to eagerly await the “special delivery” Coronado. All had hopes of the great things to come.
As the seaplane completed its moorings, several of the appointed ground crew rushed to process the cargo, and the treats therein.
“Smitty, what is it?” Petty Officer Hendricks shouted from the pier.
Seaman Smith stood in the hatchway, and with an exasperated expression said, “Typewriters.”