I shan’t write to-morrow, as if all goes well it will be a race between this card and myself to get home first. The very best of love to you.
* * * * *
III
STORM AFTER CALM
Back to Duty.
Back to work and my old friend Archie quickly. I was on bombing yesterday, not very far over the lines though, and there were about —— of us. It was a wonderfully pretty sight to see the bombs going down in a string, dwindling, and finally disappearing below. Bags of Archie were flying around, but my “machine” was not hit at all. I was first up to-day and we had a non-stop flight of nearly three hours, ranging some batteries. The weather was pretty dud, but W. and I managed all right. S. is missing, as perhaps you have heard. He was on a long bombing stunt. He is reported unhurt and prisoner of war.
* * * * *
I shot a bullet into the air,
It fell to earth I know not where.
When we were up to-day P. emptied a drum of ammunition from the gun over the lines—not firing at anything in particular, but just to test the gun. The empty cartridges as they were ejected landed with clockwork regularity on the top of my head. I said to myself, “This is some hail.”
Last evening E. and I went in a tender to the battery we had been working with in the morning and saw the wonderful ruins of a town near there. We were really quite close to the lines, but luckily there was no shelling, and we got back O.K.