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[[circled]] 74 [[/circled]]

Every day for the past week had been foggy, strange to say - a fog so thick that I thought several times that I had been surreptitiously transplanted up to East Machair, Maine, at the time when thick weather was so rife in the summer of 1915. Half-a day would clear up and the machines would begin to appear, only to disappear after a few hours.

Around the 19th it cleared off well and [[strikethrough]] It [[/strikethrough]] began to look auspicious for our getting in some time in our log books. Our squadron had only 2 machines out of 13 ready to fly when the "Northern" shut us in, and during the interim the "ack emmas" (a.m's, air-mechanics) had fixed us 7 more machines - it [[underlined]] did [[/underlined]] begin to look as if we would get a few tests done!

Well, during the 16th and 17th I had been confined to bed with a listlessness and