BICYCLE

The only bicycle that I ever owned was one I bought when
I was stationed at Chelveston, England. The one I bought was
a black girls bike with a magneto light and brakes on the
handle bars. It cost me the equivalent of $45.00 in English
pounds which were worth at that time a little over $4.20 per
pound.
Most of the boys learned to ride their bikes at night in
total darkness carrying a quart of beer in each hand. This
was quite a trick, especially after an evening at the local
Pub.
One evening some of us went into a village close to camp
and when coming back, a pretty girl passed me on the road. I
took after her intending to catch her and make conversation
if she would talk to me. I was riding pretty fast in the dark
when I hit a deep pothole in the road. I did a complete flip
with the bike and the first thing that hit the ground was the
left side of my face on that rough asphalt road. I peeled all
the skin off my face. I got up, picked the bike up and looked
all around to see who had seen me make such a fool of myself
over a girl that I never did meet.
I kicked the bike back in shape and rode on into camp
which was only a few miles ahead. When I got there I reported
to the first aid station for repairs and comfort. They wanted
to keep me but I wouldn't stay because I had a mission over
Germany to make the next day. They painted my face with
mercurochrome and I went on to my bunk to sleep. I didn't let
a peeled face keep me from flying and I heard from my buddies
about that bike wreck for a long, long time.
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