But Buck rolled, and grumbled, and so wore himself out fretting that on
the next day it was decided to send them both to the base hospital for
a week, which was duly done.

Three days more and Blaine, now an ensign, besides having his French
decoration) had so nearly regained his strength that he no longer lay
on a cot, but sat and walked about, a convalescent.

Buck Bangs, now a sergeant, still fretted and grumbled, improving more
slowly. The new stripes on his arm cheered him somewhat, yet he
eagerly eyed each group of visitors who strolled through the wards, the
reading rooms, and other parts of the big base hospital where the two
were convalescing. But, so far, his longings were ungratified.

A few hundred yards further back, on the edge of a French village that
now quartered a brigade of our Sammies, was the new aerodrome where
(quite a number of Uncle Sam's new aviators were on duty, day and
night. Most of those we have met before were there, all except poor
Finzer and a few others that had fallen in the various raids that had
taken place from time to time. There was Erwin, now a corporal; Lex
Brodno, His American Pole, and others . Byers was in charge, with Anson
and one or two other British aviators detailed to help the new American
airmen get into thorough shape and training.

This recent transfer from the other station had taken place while
Blaine and Bangs were absent raiding and subsequently in the hospital.
Bauer, the fellow who had made the signal to the enemy the night that
raid started, had been tried by court-martial and was to have been shot
but on the night before the intended execution he managed to escape,