Folks,

Dux:

Thank you kindly. We should all be relieved it is finally over. The story and the birthday.

What a nice addition to my growing collection of your work you have posted. Parachutes? No real pilot would consider wearing such a thing. No indeed. Personally I do not care to fly the "pushers" either. Give me a treacherous but agile Sopwith "Pup" or "Camel" and enough ammunition and fuel to grapple with the "Hun". Given all that who would ever need a "chute" anyway?

C51:

Thank you kind sir. Additional birthdays were denied to so many this year. I am fortunate indeed to have gotten one of the limited number still available in September.

As for those 12 children; DNA testing has only recently become available in that particularly remote region of Canada. Check your mailbox on the next "Father's Day" or the Canadian equivalent of that holiday to see if you receive any greeting cards addressed to "Daddy" and signed "anonymous".

I am pleased that you seemed to enjoy BOOTF more than most in spite of the part you were forced to play in it. I hope that in spite of the "tight" places you found yourself in on occasion Lady "M" enjoyed it as well. Believe me when I admit that until Regredda got into that 110 I had no idea how the thing would end either.

BOOTF Addendum:

I neglected to mention that SNAFU also got his Jag back... it was piled in a rusting stack and less a few important missing parts. Surprisingly, that was entirely OK by SNAFU since our worthy and long suffering mate seems to have been the fortunate bloke who nicked er.... I mean so conveniently "picked up" that big bag of gold that the unfortunate "Regredda" AKA "Karl" thoughtlessly and, as it turned out for SNAFU, so unselfishly left behind in Max's captured 110.

No one ever found out what actually happened to that heaping bag of gold sovereigns mind you. And our SNAFU isn't talking. However suspicions, at least in certain circles, did focus directly upon SNAFU when on the very next day after the explosive events took place, the dear boy was sporting around in another spiffy new Jaguar and throwing away cash like it was going out of style.

Shortly thereafter, when he went to take a leak behind the Scalded Cat a said-to-be unknown assailent walked up and punched JRT right in the nose. Dux came to the rescue but the intruder who was dressed in civies got away in what appeared to be a late model Jag. To add insult to injury the next day a reasonably spiteful SNAFU would not even offer poor bandaged JRT a ride in his brand new Jag even though it was his birthday.