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Updated: May 26, 2025
Harold planned a frolic of any sort back yonder in Annapolis without the weather clerk smiling upon it. When "Colors" came singing across the water at eight o'clock, up went the squadron's bunting in honor of the day, and a pretty picture the ships presented dressed from stem to stern in their gay, varicolored flags.
V., my pilot and flight-commander, was given to a quick dive at the enemy, a swerve aside, a recul pour mieux sauter, a vertical turn or two, and another dash to close grips from an unexpected direction, while I guarded the tail-end. But writing reminiscences of Umpty Squadron's early days is a melancholy business.
"So I wor," he replied, with a grin at the stupefied look on my face; "but you forgits, Tom, our squadron's coom round here with the admiral to give ye a hilping hand, sure, in yer shindy with these blissid Arab thayves here. So, faith, Oi've coom along with the rest in the owld Grampus, bedad. But, Oi'm lookin' for our cap'en now.
If we were to give them a handsome beating there, it would show everyone that they would have had no chance of winning the Cup if it had not been for the accident." "No, I don't suppose that we shall meet again this season, and indeed I don't know that I shall do any more racing myself, except that I shall feel it as a sort of duty to enter for the Squadron's open race.
He was willing to eat agony at any time for the squadron's sake for a squadron of Outram's Own is a unity to marvel at, or envy; and its leader a man to be forgiven spurs a half-inch longer than the regulation. As a soldier, however, he was careful of himself when occasion offered.
He put his hat back on a head already bent, while the shoulders, after a pathetic shrug, drew together in the accustomed stoop. His slim fingers slipped under the largest chrysanthemum blossom, his attitude the same as when he had held it up for Marta's inspection before they heard the roar of the Gray squadron's motors.
"Obviously, since we still have air in the place," commented Placer dryly. "You'd better call Mars City and get them to send help." "I've already done that," said Vidonati. "A jet squadron's on its way." "Good," said Placer.
The man's name and regimental number proved him to have been one of D Squadron's men, and since its commander, Ranjoor Singh, was then in quarters, the news was brought to him at once. "Killed where?" he demanded; so they told him. "Exactly when?" It became evident to Ranjoor Singh that there had been some truth after all in the babu's tale.
Mac grabbed what looked about the best bunk in the murky depths of the 'tween decks which was the Squadron's alloted space, and wrote his name in several places on the boards.
But reasoning on the policy of the present French government, who never aim at little things while great objects are in view, I have considered the invasion of Ireland as the real mark and butt of all their operations. The flight to the West Indies was to take off the naval force, which is the great impediment to their undertaking. The Rochefort squadron's return confirmed me.
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