e I stuck, for it was impossible to wriggle farther.
However, I could now reach part of the fire, and at it I beat with
gloved hands. Within half a minute most of the fire was crushed to
death. But a thin streak of flame, outside the radius of my arm, still
flickered towards the tail. I tore off one of my gauntlets and swung it
furiously on to the burning strip. The flame lessened, rose again when I
raised the glove, but died out altogether after I had hit it twice more.
The load of fear left me, and I discovered an intense discomfort, wedged
in as I was between the two crossed bracing-struts. Five minutes passed
before I was able, with many a heave and gasp, to withdraw back to my
seat.

By now we were at close grips with the enemy, and our machine and
another converged on a Hun. V. was firing industriously. As we turned,
he glared at me, and knowing nothing of the fire, shouted: "Why the hell
haven't you fired yet?" I caught sight of a Boche bus below us, aimed at
it, and emptied a drum in short bursts. It swept away, but not before
two of the German observer's bullets had plugged our petrol tank from
underneath. The pressure went, and with it the petrol supply. The needle
on the rev.-counter quivered to the left as the revolutions dropped, and
the engine missed on first one, then two cylinders. V. turned us round,
and, with nose down, headed the machine for the trenches. Just then the
engine ceased work altogether, and we began to glide down.

All this happened so quickly that I had scarcely realised our plight.
Next I began to calculate our chances of reaching the lines before we
would have to land. Our height was 9000 feet, and we were just over
nine and a half miles from friendly territory. Reckoning the gliding
possibilities of our type of bus as a mile to a thousand feet, the odds
seemed unfavourable. On the other hand, a useful wind had arisen from
the east, and V., a very skilful pilot, would certainly cover all the
distance that could be covered.

I located our exact position and searched the map for the nearest spot
in the lines. The village of Bouchavesnes was a fraction south of due
west, and I remembered that the French had stormed it two days
previously. From the shape of the line before this advance, there was
evidently a small salient, with Bouchavesnes in the middle of the curve.
I scribbled this observation on a scrap of paper, which I handed to V.
with the compass direction. V. checked my statemen