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Driscoll, James R. [pseud.]

"The Brighton Boys with the Flying Corps"

Each flier switched on his little light to see his
instruments, and gracefully dropped nearer the ground. A night
landing is always interesting. The familiar points near the airdrome
have a strangely different appearance at night. Everything is vague in
outline---indistinct. Down the six machines dropped to the rows of
lights, flickering in the night breeze. A last moment, then the
instant for raising the elevator, then the gentle, resilient bump as
the wheels touch the level floor of the airdrome, and the fleet is home.
It was a fine raid, well planned and splendidly executed. It did not
cost our side a man nor a machine, and it spread death and destruction
among the centers that turned out the means of destruction that had
made the world-war a thing of horror. To bomb Krupp's works! The
very thought had a ring of retribution to it! The very name Krupp
had so sinister a sound. Well might the Brighton boys be proud of
Joe for the part he had played in the inception of the idea and the
work of carrying it through.


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