Rick Rawlings
No 60 Squadron
January 12, 1917

For the last two months, I had been telling everyone who would listen (and most who wouldn't) that we needed to get everyone Nieuports or Pups to regain our strength against the Germans. They must have got tired of me complaining, so they transferred me over to No. 60 Squadron. It was just in time, too. It's much easier to get a facefull of snow hunkered down in an N17 cockpit than with everything hanging out in a DH2 nacelle. I had to stop by the boys in 24 with "engine damage" to let them know that I wasn't abandoning them and we needed to keep up the fight to get the newer planes rolling.

Life with 60 has been good. A week ago, we went out in terrible weather to drop a German sausage. I got too close to the blast and spent the better part of a week recovering from light burns and shrapnel wounds. Then for some reason, they decided to wait until I was back to go get the replacement balloon! We never made it as we were attacked by Albatros scouts before we got to the lines. Lt. Caldwell clipped a tree following a hun too low and went down in a field. I landed with him to see that he had minor injuries and we waited for the ambulance to arrive. I expect we will have to go up and get the balloon again soon!

The older I get, the more I realize I don't need to be Han, Luke or Leia. I'm just happy to be rebel scum...