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[[circled]] 78 [[/circled]]

it can't last forever, so, as long as the way I want to set these lines to music is impartially let me work forward.

It was noontime on the sunny nineteenth. I went looking for trouble by heading towards the Lieutenant Doctor who was with the ambulance on the field, its station being beside our no. 8 hangar. I went through the hangar and told my [[strikethrough]] second [[/strikethrough]]^[[sub]] flight commander, Qualified Cadet Oliver J. Hall (who is still waiting through the months and months for his commission to come from Washington) that I probably wouldn't go on "puff targets" for a few hours, maybe days. Then I approached the honorable Doc whose acquaintance I had previously made. "Look me over?" I asked. He removed the corn cob he was sucking and gave me a thermometer to "smoke". I bared my skin for his investigation. He read the thermometer and made a second observation after declaring his disatisfaction of his first result. At last he waved me away and told me I was all right. But I knew