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[[circled]] 103 [[/circled]]

wireless I must needs get 6 hours of "solo" and 40 "solo" landings. So before the pink appeared in the East I was up in the air; before the sun had time to grow hot (I doubt if I got [[underline]] hot [[/underline]], but it would have if the cruel north wind hadn't been flowing all through these days) I had done an hour and a half of flying and accomplished my required landings. Then after an hour or two of stalking majors and minor officers I was transferred into the 139th squadron for the purpose of putting in time and more tests. I never wanted for a 'bus in the early days in this squadron. When the camp first opened the 139th was known as the "'Umpty-umps" - a combination of riff-raff and undesirables from all the squadrons in the camp. But by the time I reached it it had undergone a miraculous reinacarnation and held the record of the days' flying hours. I would no