We ran smoothly out of the
hangar, and were given a fine send off. How soon the Bosches
found out how they'd been spoofed, I don't know. It couldn't
have been long though, as my prison guard was in attendance.
The great thing was, we went up in grand style. Otherwise--but
we needn't now think of the 'otherwise'!
"Our next danger lay in taking the wrong direction, getting
farther back in Boschland instead of over the frontier. I kept
my wits, fortunately, so that turned out all right. Still, there
remained the chance of being shot down by the French, and
blown with our own bombs into kingdom come. But, by good
luck it was a clear night. No excuse for getting lost! And
when I was sure we were well over the French lines, I planed
down to alight in a field.
"The alert was out for us, of course, and a fierce barrage put
up, but I flew high till I was ready for a dive. We'd hardly landed,
when the _poilus_ swarmed like bees, but that was what we
wanted. You must imagine the scene that followed, till I
can tell you by word of mouth!
"I shall have made my report, and have been given leave
to start for a visit to my family by to-morrow I hope.
"Yours till the end,
"JIM."
"Yours till the end!" Rather a smart, cynical way of winding up those
"exhibition pages" was it not, Padre? The secret translation of that
signature is: "Yours, you brute, till I can get rid of you with least
damage to my parents' susceptibilities!"
I shall obey, and wait for the interview.
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