I lead the run for home, straight back across the Lines.
Behind and around us, the sky is fairly filled with the angry black bursts of Archie.
Seeking salvation, I race for the nearest cloud.
'Race' is of course relative, when you're flying a BE. Finally, we reach the welcoming folds of milky white...
...then one by one, we pop out on the other side - into skies no longer darkened by the Hun gunners.
I put the nose down to complete the crossing of the Lines, feeling a little sheepish at not circling to allow the others to catch up.
Only when back over friendly territory do I throttle back and level off.
The sheds of Hesdigneul are a welcome sight when they come into view. As I come in, I can see that 'A' Flight's Bristol has landed ahead of us.
After we're safely down, I can see that I'm credited with four hits from four bombs. That looks good, except that Stretton and Whiting are credited with fifty-four, plus some with their Lewis Gun! Poor old Peason and Rodland drew a blank, though. Not a bad effort, all in all.
The lack of excitement from Fokkers or other Huns in the air that we saw was more than made up for by the hot reception we got from Archie. We'll have to watch that one.