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caught my middle finger in the throttle each time among 4 futile descents and the power remaining carried me in a far swoop over the landing ground. It was the fifth time before I became accustomed to the engine enough to shut off the pulling power and prevent #7144 from going on over the hill and into the valley by the old Castle that raises its ruins about a half mile from the hangars.

I [[gained?]] back to the assembly and saw every face creased in smiles. Several brother officers rushed out after I had ^[[cut]] [[strikethrough]] shut [[/strikethrough]] the switches and the remarks varied from, "Gee but you're rolling in luck" to "We started out to pick up the grease spot". Upon insistence I learned that I had