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Our Pilots in the Air by William B. Perry
page 76 of 197 (38%)
"Don't you know your squad leader?"

"Good gracious! You -- here?" The youth from Butte, Montana, was
peering down at advancing form, delighted amazement in face, but he
only said: "Shut off your light Sergeant! We're surrounded by - by -
them! That's better! Where'd you come from?"

"Oh, I just dropped down in answer to your signal. I thought if the
Boches were about to get you, they might have another chance at me,
see?"

A faint yet hilarious chuckle came forth. Then:

"Say, Lafe, when I first tumbled down here, I thought I was a goner.
But I wasn't hurt much. My machine is smashed, though."

"What brought you down? Why didn't you go a little further?"

"I would have, but Archie got me just as I thought I was about safe.
That ain't all. I guess our downing them sausages was a bit too for
Hans. Directly after that they started the hottest barrage fire you've
seen in a month of Sundays. Keepin' it up yet, only they've slacked a
bit along here. I kept thinkin' how I was going to get out of this
when I heard the tramp and scuffle of advancing infantry.

"All at once I knew. They're sour yet over busting up their big
underground at Appincourte Bluff; and now comes this raid of ours and
away goes that string of a dozen balloons. I guess it was too much."

"Infantry! What infantry? Oh, you mean Fritzy!"
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