Angels One Five Page #3

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It was a mercy we didn't collide.

It certainly was.

- Hello, men.

- Hello, Barry.

What have we here?

One pilot, one Hurricane,

both slightly bent.

Hi, Doc.

Let me introduce you ...

Pilot Officer Baird.

Hate to disappoint you ...

... but I don't think you'll need

your blood wagon.

All right, Casey, I shan't be needing you.

- No bones broken?

- No, sir.

You're a lucky chap.

No strains, sprains, pains, or blains?

He's got a ligamentum whatsit.

She means ligamentum nuchae, sir.

I think I've strained it.

What makes you think that?

I'm a medical student, sir.

Or at least I was till the war started.

It's nothing much.

All the same, I think we better have

a second opinion, don't you?

Let's have a look at it.

I'll give you a lift back

to sick quarters in the ambulance.

I'm sorry to have caused you

all this trouble, sir.

That's all right, old man.

See you in the mess, I hope.

Good-bye, Mrs. Clinton.

Batchy! You old pirate!

- Batchy!

- Where have you been?

I thought you bought it.

So did I, Skipper. So did I.

I saw you go down

after that 1-1-0,

but I was too busy myself

to see what happened.

Oh, that one.

Another Jerry crew will be swimming

back to base this evening.

- Good show.

- Whizzo, Batchy!

Did you get shot up?

Only a teeny-weenie one

in me glycol tank.

And another in my radio.

So I decided to fizz back to base

while I still had some height.

Glad you made it.

And that ends our bedtime story

for tonight, kiddies.

Hold it, chaps!

You haven't heard the half of it.

I'm putting meself down

nice and comfortable on dear old Neethley

... when an angry great Hurricane

comes roaring at me down the runway.

"This is it," I said to meself.

- Silver handles and hello, Saint Peter ...

- What did you do?

What could I do, you twerp?

I just shut my eyes and the whole of my past life

loomed up before me.

What a shocking experience.

And when I opened them again ...

... this other chap had hopped over me back

like a flea on a dog's tail.

# They were only playing leap frog #

# They were only playing leap frog... #

Shut up!

What a copper-bottomed ape.

- Who was it?

- Oh, some ferry type with a ...

... replacement Hurrie, so they tell me.

A replacement? Where is it now?

Standing on its prop

in Barry Clinton's garden, I believe.

By heaven, if he's written it off,

I'll tear him apart.

- Where is he?

- Doc took him down to station sick quarters.

He'll be sorry he didn't write himself off

by the time I'm through with him.

Oh, now, wait a minute, Skipper.

He didn't prang me

and I was landing cross wind.

What the hell has that

got to do with it?

This is an operational station.

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