Gentlemen,

JRT, C51,

Party...party...party. I'm bloody fed up of party for this and party for that.

I have always been resourceful when emergency measures are called for - but it was a close run thing last night. I was worn out but Olga was just getting into her Cossack stride when an idea struck me. While she was engaged in her hectic gyrations I siezed the smoking DP cutout and quickly made off to the nearby searchlight battery. After bribing the crew with a crate of JD they secured the cutout to the top of the flagpole and directed the beam upwards and beyond where the ghostly silhouette flickered against the clouds in the night sky. To observers at Manston and several other nearby airfields the curvy image took on mystical and religious significance and a large mob of instant pilgrims flocked to the base of the searchlight where they grovelled and pleaded for absolution.

With so many young airmen now in the immediate vicinity of the party, Olga closed in to reap the harvest of unwilling partners as a dolphin would round up a shoal of terrified pilchards.

Smirking with satisfaction, I recovered the now abandoned crate of booze and quickly retired over the boundary fence and headed for my quarters - accompanied by the screams of the damned.


'Find your enemy and shoot him down - everything else is unimportant.'

Manfred von Richtofen
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