the others."
But we could not pass along. The medical watchdogs and mesdemoiselles
the ambulance-drivers saw to that. We were detailed to cars and
forwarded to the various destinations, some to the provinces by way of
another station, some to suburban hospitals, some to London proper. I
was one of the lucky last-named and soon found myself settled in
Westminster. Here the injured knee was again pinched, punched, and
pressed, after which the ward surgeon told me I should probably stay in
bed for a month. For exercise I shall be permitted to walk along the
passage each morning to the department where they dispense massage and
ionisation.
Meanwhile, it is midday and flying weather. Over there a formation of A
flight, Umpty Squadron, will perhaps be droning back from a hundred-mile
reconnaissance. V., my mad friend and sane pilot and flight-commander,
leads it; and in my place, alas! Charlie-the-good-guide is making notes
from the observer's cockpit. The Tripehound and others of the jolly
company man the rear buses, which number four or five, according to
whether the wicked bandit Missing has kidnapped some member of the
family. And here loaf I, uncertain whether I am glad or sorry to be out
of it. The devil of it is that, unlike most of my bed-neighbours, I feel
enormously fit and am anxious to shake hands with life and London. Time
hangs heavy and long, so bring all you can in the way of the latest
books, the latest scandals, and your latest enthusiasms among the modern
poets. Above all, bring yourself.
LONDON, _November_, 1916
THE COUNTRY LIFE PRESS, GARDEN CITY, NEW YORK
+-----------------------------------------------+
| Transcriber's Note: |
| |
| Typographical errors corrected in the text: |
| |
| Page 87 phosphorus changed to phosphorous |
| Page 137 unnecsary changed to unnecessary |
| Page 159 Klaxton changed to Klaxon |
| Page 226 Immelman changed to Immelsmann |
| Page 249 missfire changed to misfire |
+-----------------------------------------------+
End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Cavalry of the Clouds, by Alan Bott
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