Thirty-two hundred metres. Let's go north and have a look at the
map.

While thus engaged a black puff of smoke appeared behind my tail
and I had the impression of hearing a piece of iron hiss by.
"Must have got my range first shot!" I surmised, and making a
steep bank piqued heavily. "There, I have lost them now." The
whole art of avoiding shells is to pay no attention till they get
your range and then dodge away, change altitude, and generally
avoid going in a straight line. In point of fact, I could see
bunches of exploding shells up over my right shoulder not a
kilometre off. They continued to shell that section for some
time; the little balls of smoke thinning out and merging as they
crossed the lines.

In the earlier days of the war, when the American aviators were
still few, their deeds were widely recounted in their home country,
and their deaths were deplored as though a personal loss to many of
their countrymen. Later they went faster and were lost in the daily
reports. Among those who had early fixed his personality in the
minds of those who followed the fortunes of the little band of
Americans flying in France was Kiffen Rockwell, mentioned in an
earlier paragraph, and one of the first to join the American
escadrille. Rockwell was in the war from sincere conviction of the
righteousness of the Allies' cause.

"I pay my part for Lafayette, and Rochambeau," he said proudly, when
asked what he was doing in a French uniform flying for France. And
pay he did though not before making the Germans pay heavily for
their part. Once, flying alone over Thann, he came upon a German
scout. Without hesitation the battle was on. Rockwell's machine was
the higher, had the better position. As aerial tactics demanded he
dived for the foe, opening fire as soon as he came within thirty or
forty yards. At his fourth shot the enemy pilot fell forward in his
seat and his machine fell heavily to earth. He lighted behind the
German lines much to the victor's disgust, for it was counted a
higher achievement to bring your foe to earth in your own territory.
But Rockwell was able to pursue his victim far enough to see the
wreck burst into flames.

Though often wounded, Rockwell scorned danger. He would go into
action so bandaged that he seemed fitter to go to an hospital. He
was always on the attack--"shoved his gun into the enemy's face" as
his fellows in the escad