hasers was cruising alone, the whole group
attacked him. Heurtaux, attacked in this way, had been compelled to dive
and land, and on his return had to submit to the jests of Guynemer, for
at that age friendship is roughish. "Go there yourself," advised
Heurtaux, "and you will see." Next day Guynemer went alone, but in his
turn was forced down. After these two trials, which might have ended in
disaster--but knights must amuse themselves--the five one-seated planes
at Bapaume were methodically but promptly beaten down.

Friendship demands equality between souls. If one has to protect the
other, if one is manifestly superior, it is no longer friendship. In the
Storks Escadrille friendship reigned in peace in the midst of war, so
surely did each take his turn in surpassing the others. Which one was,
finally, to be the greatest, not because of the number of his mentions,
nor his renown or public fame, but according to the testimony of his
comrades--the surest and most clearsighted of testimony--for no one can
deceive his peers? Would it be the cold and calm Dorme, who went to
battle as a fisher goes to his nets, who never spoke of his exploits,
and whose heart, under this modest, gentle, kind exterior, was filled
with hatred for the invader who occupied his own countryside, Briey, and
for six months had held in custody and ill-treated his parents? In the
Somme battle alone his official victories numbered seventeen, but the
enemy could recount many others, doubtless, for this silent,
well-balanced young man possessed quite improbable audacity. He would
fly more than fifteen or twenty kilometers above the German lines,
perfectly tranquil under the showers of shells which rose from the
earth. At such a distance within their lines the Boche airplanes thought
themselves safe when, suddenly, _du Sud ou du Septentrion_, appeared
this knightly hero. And he would return smilingly, as fresh as when he
had started out. It was only with difficulty that a very brief statement
could then be extracted from him. His machine would be inspected, and
not a trace of any fragment found; he might have been a tourist
returning from a promenade. In more than a hundred combats his airplane
received only three very small wounds. His cleverness in handling his
machine was incredible: his close veering, his twistings and turnings,
made it impossible for the adversary to shoot. He also knew how to quit
the combat in time, if his own maneuvers had not suc