l square miles and almost any
part of it may contain troops, there is no need to descend far before
taking aim. Each pilot chooses a spot for his particular attention, for
preference somewhere near the road that bisects the wood. He aligns his
sights on the target, releases the bombs, and watches for signs of an
interrupted lunch below.

It is quite impossible to tell the extent of the damage, for the raid is
directed not against some definite object, but against an area
containing troops, guns, and stores. The damage will be as much moral as
material since nothing unnerves war-weary men more than to realise that
they are never safe from aircraft.

The guns get busy at once, for the wood contains a nest of Archies. Ugly
black bursts surround the bombers, who swerve and zig-zag as they run.
When well away from the wood they climb back to us through the clouds.

We turn west and battle our way against the wind, now our foe. Half-way
to the lines we wave an envious good-bye to the bombers and scouts, and
begin our solitary patrol above the clouds.

We cruise all round the compass, hunting for Huns. Twice we see enemy
machines through rifts in the clouds, but each time we dive towards them
they refuse battle and remain at a height of some thousand feet, ready
to drop even lower, if they can lure us down through the barrage of
A.-A. shells. Nothing else of importance happens, and things get
monotonous. I look at my watch and think it the slowest thing on earth,
slower than the leave train. The minute-hand creeps round, and
homing-time arrives.

We have one more flutter on the way to the trenches. Two Huns come to
sniff at us, and we dive below the clouds once more.

But it is the old, old dodge of trying to salt the bird's tail. The Hun
decoys make themselves scarce--and H.E. bursts make themselves
plentiful. Archie has got the range of those clouds to a few feet, and,
since we are a little beneath them, he has got our range too. We dodge
with difficulty, for Archie revels in a background of low clouds.
Nobody is hit, however, and our party crosses the lines; and so home.

From the point of view of our fighting machines, the afternoon has been
uneventful. Nevertheless, the job has been done, so much so that the
dwellers in the wood where we left our cards are still regretting their
disturbed luncheon, while airmen and A.-A. gunners around the wood tell
each other what they will do to the next lot of raiders. We shall