Air Stories — page 67: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

i) HT Vil, aia ge ge bak am Oz, 5 OE ty am So: a ae Ses i — — =) 2 = Ss 4 From the leading ‘plane, the astonished watchers saw something flung overboard. .. . Colonel Blotten was under. no Delusions as to his Own Importance, but there are Occasions when even Staff Officers need more than Brass Hats to Preserve their Dignity By MAJOR L. S. METFORD (Late of No. 13 Squadron, R.F.C.) CHAPTER I A Squadron is Caught Napping a OBBY ’’ Clarke banked over Ne: hangars at two hundred feet to make an up-wind landing. As he craned his neck over the side to make sure that all was clear below, he cursed under his breath, took off the bank, opened the throttle and climbed hurriedly. Which was strange, for he had been out for over two hours and he was hungry. As a matter of fact, Lieu- tenant ‘‘ Nobby ’’ Clarke, R.F.C., was always hungry. He ate at all times and in all places, and when he wasn’t eating, which was seldom, he was sucking bull’s-eyes—brown and white striped abominations about the size of a glass ‘* alley.’’ His nickname was all wrong. Nobby ? Decidedly not. There wasn’t a knob about him. With his five feet nine and fourteen stone he was practically spheri- cal. Tubby? Yes. But as tradition decrees that all Clarkes are ‘‘ Nobbys,’’ it was ‘‘ Nobby ’’ that Clarke became. And, of course, being the shape he was, they put him in a scout. Had he been about nine stone and as thin as a rail, he would doubtless have been given a bomber, and the bigger the better. Strangely enough, considering the fact that he wheezed a little when they crammed him in and much when they 161 F COMMICLaoOe (©