Just got back from a few days leave and I spent it basking in the sun with my first love, the ocean. Nothing like three days of fishing, sailing and swimming in the ocean to clear one's head of all the stress and strain of this never-ending war flying. I really don't know how Thayer spent his leave, but I'd be willing to bet that there was wine, women and song involved. Thayer likes to live on the proverbial edge, if you will, of life, while I much prefer a calmer pace of life. You might not think that if all you had to go by was our war record, but the fact is that most of our victories were at the prompting of Thayer. While I'm pleased with what he and I are accomplishing, I don't know if I would have the same level of success if I was on my own. Anyway, things to ponder while lying on my bed.
Our mission this morning was a line patrol, which is Thayer's favorite because these translate to hunting missions. He really loves the Morane because of the larger field of fire and he also can perform his photographing duties much easier. I on the other hand, really don't like our bus. I can't see anything above me or behind me and I'm constantly yelling back to Thayer for guidance. At any rate, we were leading the flight which consisted of Lt. Epps (pilot) and Capt. Rogers (Obsrv). We had reached the southern end of our patrol area and were turning north when Thayer tapped me on the shoulder and informed me that we had company. I turned and began to climb and that is when I saw the two Hun machines flying from our side of the lines heading back home. I waggled my wings to signal Epps and turned to close with the Huns. Lt. Epps had seen them as well and he also began to close. It is much harder to get our bus into a good firing position because I can't see a blasted thing, but with the assistance of Thayer I finally managed to place our bus where Thayer could use his Lewis. Thayer fired a really short burst and then ceased firing. I turned slightly and could see the Hun plunging on fire to Earth. I surmised that Thayer had hit the fuel tank and the engine, which caused the aeroplane to burst into flames. Afterward, Thayer told me that he had only fired thirty rounds. It is most disquieting to see that funeral pyre falling, spiralling ever so slowly to Earth, lucky for us, there is whiskey back at St. Pol and tomorrow we will have forgotten. Apparently, while we were busy with our Hun, that sneaky fellow Epps had just been putting the finishing touches to his Hun. I turned us back to St. Pol and we landed without incident. The CO was very pleased when we reported that we both had been successful. By the way, both victories had been confirmed by dinner time.
Member and provider of banjo music for the Illustrious BOC