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Connor, Ralph, Pseudonym, 1860-1937

"The Sky Pilot in No Man's Land"

"Fires are quite forbidden. Air raids, and that sort of
thing, don't you know."
"Oh, hang it all, major," cried the O. C. "The coffee is fine, and my
men will be a lot better for it. This camp of yours, anyway, is no place
for human beings, and especially for men straight off the boat. As for
me, I'm devilish glad to get this coffee. Give me another tin, Pilot."
"It's quite irregular," murmured the major, still drinking his coffee.
"It's quite irregular! But I see the door is fairly well guarded against
light, and perhaps--"
"I think we'll just carry on," said the colonel. "If there is any
trouble, I'll assume the responsibility for it. Thank you, Pilot. Just
keep guard on the light here, sergeant major."
"All right, sir. Very good, sir, we will hang up a blanket."
Meanwhile the news had spread throughout the camp, and before many
minutes had passed the cellar was jammed with a crowd of men that
reached through the door and out into the night. The crowd was becoming
noisy and there was danger of confusion.


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