Fullofit, that was an exciting chase with the Aviatik! Always a nasty surprise when the Gunner suddenly gets a bead on you like that... Raine, that Parasol is looking a little worse for wear...hopefully you'll have better luck with the scavenging! Welcome back, Aleck MacKinlay! Lederhosen, looks like the R.F.C isn't alone in its dangerous run-ins! Maeran, a good job there, sending an Eindecker down OOC!
Sgt. Graham A. Campbell No. 20 Squadron RFC. Clairmarais Aerodrome, France.
January 29th, 1916:
Poor old A6338 was in a sorry state upon her return to Clairmarais. In my haste to land her, I had partially buckled the undercarriage, which now sat crooked and gave her the appearance of straining to take off, even as she sat motionless on the ground. The wings were peppered with holes, and a centre-section strut needed replacing. To make matters worse for the old girl, she had sat out all night in the freezing wintry air, with a radiator full of water, which had now frozen and had all but destroyed the engine. According to the Ack-Emmas, she would need a new Beardmore put in her. Yes, the old girl was in a very sorry state indeed!
She had arrived in the morning, disassembled, on the backs of a pair of trucks. It was a particularly beautiful morning - the countryside presented itself to me in a blanketed suit of greens and yellows, and the grass, touched with frost, gleamed in the sun like an ocean of diamonds. The air hung with a thin veil of mist, giving the landscape almost the effect of being oil-painted, and the gentle wind carried great white clouds across the sky, like snow-peaked mountains lazily migrating Eastwards.
After overseeing the Ack-Emmas unloading A6338 and taking her various parts away to be serviced, I lit up a cigarette. All in all, I was feeling very pleased with life, enjoying the sensation of the chilling morning air on my face. At around 10 O'Clock, I sat down to watch 'A' flight readying themselves for the morning Show. From a distance I saw Switch-Off, with his crimson scarf at his neck, nimbly climb aboard his bus, testing the ailerons and elevators. I stayed around for long enough to watch 'A' flight lift off the ground before heading East, slowly becoming specks on the horizon as they purred towards Hunland. Once they had almost completely faded, I decided that I had better report to the Adjutant's office.
Adjutant Lovell was a shrewd-looking, spectacled man who seemed to have a never-ending cigarette hanging from his mouth. Constantly a cloud of smoke hung above his head, almost resembling a thundercloud looming over his disinterested face. Lovell's personality matched his appearance, and most verbal encounters with the man resulted in feigned interest, or just flat-out boredom on his behalf. Apart from this seemingly boundless detachment, Lovell was also irritable and could quickly become very annoyed indeed, if asked what he deemed to be 'stupid' questions, or if overloaded with information.
By any means, as I stepped into the Adjutant's office, which had a currently-unoccupied clerk's desk, Lovell looked up at me with a tired expression and rather nonchalantly said "Campbell? Good." and handed me a sheet of paper with a list of spare engines. "Get to work finding those".
Of course, although Edith had been assigned to Adjutant's clerk duties also, he was a Captain, and so was currently off enjoying a hearty late lunch at the Vincent, while I was thrust into bureaucracy.
Every now and again my eyes drift out of the small square window to the right of my desk. From there, I can see A6338 being worked on in the workshops. Her engine is taken out now, and the wings are stacked neatly on the side of the hangar, being re-doped as we speak.