It took all of Phillip’s strength to pull the plummeting ‘Biff’ out of its hurtling descent. A glance at the airspeed indicator showed him that they had touched 200 miles per hour. Phillip closed the throttle and the roar of the engine subsided. The controls were unbelievably heavy and the airframe seemed to groan in protest as he hauled the stick back into the pit of his stomach. It seemed like an age before they had sloughed off sufficient speed for the plane to respond. The nose came up with agonising slowness and at last the shrieking
gay video clips free of the wires began to diminish. Some of the weight came off the stick and they levelled out, the speed dropping away. Phillip looked back at Henry. He was still crouched over his guns, white-faced but watchful.
They crossed the British lines at 4,000 feet, dodging between the sheltering banks of cloud. Phillip took the opportunity to
gay video clips free do a visual check on the damage. The starboard wings were riddled
gay video clips free with bullet holes. Patches
gay video clips free of fabric had stripped
gay video clips free away leaving the wooden ribs exposed. There were holes, too, in the fabric of the fuselage behind Henry’s position. Phillip thanked their stars that the engine had not been hit. The Rolls Royce Falcon was running sweetly. Apart from the stiffness of the ailerons, the plane seemed to be reasonably all right. Even so, he was mightily relieved when the familiar shape of Bellevue came into sight in the patchwork of green below them. He fired a flare to indicate they were damaged and eased the Bristol down onto the sweet grass.
Phillip cut the engine and sat for a few moments in the cockpit feeling utterly drained. The other survivor had already landed so the squadron already knew the bad news. He hauled himself out of the aircraft like a bent old man. Henry waited anxiously for him to dismount.
“Are you all right, old man?”
Phillip nodded. His mind had gone blank. He tried to think of something to say to his young observer, something that might ease the pain of what had happened, but no words came. The squadron commander and the adjutant were beside them, worried faces hovered in Phillip’s vision. He waved a hand, a gesture of desolation. Pushing back his goggles, he rubbed his eyes like a
gay video clips free man who hasn’t slept for days. Henry gawped at him, concern and bewilderment chasing each other across his freckled face. Suddenly, the rage and frustration flared in Phillip once more.
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