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The close-fist of a Peter Hildesmuller! some day I shall with a big club pound that man's dummkopf all in and out the town. Perhaps in this letter Lena will say that she is yet feeling better. So, her mamma will be glad. /Auf wiedersehen/, Herr Ballinger your feets will take cold out in the night air." "So long, Fritzy," said old man Ballinger. "You got a nice cool night for your drive."
"Guess wrecking them sausages must 'a' stirred Fritzy up a bit. Hullo! What's that?" Already Lafe was a thousand or more feet up. The field battery was now fading from view as the flames of the burning plane died down. Once more sharp reports from the Archies came from below. Whether these were by the battery he had seen Lafe could not now tell.
"Not by a long shot! But when we made that last dive to get away from Fritzy in his Fokker, I noticed your hands on the crank were shaking. Say, if that Tommy in the monoplane hadn't helped us, where'd we been?" "Right here, you goose! We'd have got out somehow, but it was squally for about five minutes."
"Go to blazes," growled the Colonel, "You can't get results without tools; pass the coffee pot." And they relapsed into silence for a few moments as they severally speculated on the number of Bittlesons they knew of in the army in all ranks. "Well, I wonder how long this blinking war is going to last," queried the Colonel. "No signs of light on the horizon yet; Fritzy is some sticker."
"Like to 'a' got you back there!" he shouted. "Where you been?" "Looking for you mainly. What you going do next?" "See that line of fire off norwest! We that's where our front and Johnny Bull's join. Appincourte Bluff seems either to have been turned or to have turned Fritzy off. Ready for a scrimmage?" "You ought to know, Lafe!" Bangs laughed easily into the megaphone. "Ready for most anything."
I visited Battery F, and gave the fellows medicine. To-day both officers and men were in the gun pits and I with them, while they were deviling with Fritzy. Big business in evening with long service, gave out Testaments and held service in dugout; got a Frenchman to interpret the scripture to his comrades. Bequests for prayer.
Great dexterity was shown by each as their machines, slackening their speed to that most suitable for accurate firing, their motors roaring right over the assaulting columns, poured down a spray of bullets that inevitably found a human mark. Fritzy usually charges in dense masses. He is "cannon fodder"; he knows it, but apparently doesn't care.
"Course it's Fritzy, Lafe," was Bangs' comment who, after aiding Blaine to stow the wounded man as comfortably as possible in his own manhole, was already at work replenishing the biplane's tank from his own. "To be square, I'll divide up, giving you a leetle the most. We gotter to get back eh?" "If possible, yes. I don't hanker after a German prison camp.
But Buck instantly knew that no machine, unless some one was handling the controls, would do a thing like that. Instantly he knew that the clumsiness of that Boche must have been assumed for the purpose of inducing Bangs to follow, thus leading the two planes away from the Allied squadron. "Fritzy is sharper than I gave him credit for being," thought Buck.
If it had been, there'd be many a husky lad living today, who has gone West, this past few years, on account of the fogs. Fog is the boche's pet. It gives Fritzy a lovely chance to creep up or, us. It " "It is the helper of US, too," suggested old Vivier. "More than one time, it has kept me safe when I was on patrol. And did it not help to save us at Rache, when "
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