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Lord, was not pointed in my direction. 
I swung back to our lines endeavoring to remedy the gun, to no avail. Just then I glanced at my gas tank ^[[gauge]] and found that I had barely 15 minutes of essence left, so I climbed to gain height for a forced glide to the aerodrome if such were ^[[to be]] the case, meanwhile keeping an eye on Putnam who was nose-diving sharply just behind our lines. I saw him recover and start home and I made the field just as he did.

My only scrape was a slight cut in the [[lower?]] plane from shrapnel, but Putnam! I don't see [[underlined]]how [[/underlined]] he