“Only goes to show how stupid one can be, but you must remember that everybody seemed to think the war would be over by Christmas, and of course my brother Charles was, off to join his regiment in France. I was bored stiff at dear old Malton Hall and the war appeared my one great chance to get into an aeroplane. But there I was, just fifteen, with the summer holidays half over, and not the faintest hope, it seemed, of ever getting closer to the enemy than my uncle’s house at Lewes. So I tried to... volunteer. I went to the recruiting office, which was in Brighton in those days, and told them I was eighteen. There was a sergeant there, a great big fellow with a huge moustache, and when he saw me he just roared with laughter. “Back to school with you, Sonny Jim,” he shouted. “When they start needing schoolboys at the Front we’ll write and let you know.” Not for the last time in his life, Biggles was experiencing the effect of his lack of size and extraordinary youthfulness. But there was nothing he could do except soldier on at Malton Hall, and offer up his private prayers that the war would continue long enough to let him play his part in it.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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