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Updated: May 20, 2025
No more dawn patrols for a while at least; no more soggy breakfasts with comrades missing who banteringly breakfasted with you twenty-four short hours ago. McGee's thoughts took unconscious vocal form as he stepped from the car. "Lucky? I'll say we are!" "What did you say, sir?" asked the driver. The question snapped McGee back to earth.
For an instant Madison's sallow cheek reddened, he knew not why; a remorseful feeling that he ought to be there with Arthur came over him. Mrs. McGee's voice seemed to answer his thought. "You can see everything that's going on down there without being seen yourself. It's good fun for me sometimes. The other day I saw that young Carpenter hanging round Mrs.
McGee spent a full day trying to find someone with the correct information as to the location of the squadron. At last an officer on the General Staff looked over McGee's papers and gave him a transportation order to a little town west and south of Verdun. "Is my squadron there, sir?" McGee asked. "They should be," the officer replied.
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