nalyze.

Two patrols were to leave the field at the same time, one to cover the
sector at an altitude of from two thousand to three thousand metres,
the other, thirty-five hundred to five thousand metres. J. B. and I
were on high patrol. Owing to our inexperience, it was to be a purely
defensive one between our observation balloons and the lines. We had
still many questions to ask, but having been so persistently
inquisitive for three days running, we thought it best to wait for
Talbott, who was leading our patrol, to volunteer his instructions.

He went to the door to look at the weather. There were clouds at about
three thousand metres, but the stars were shining through gaps in
them. On the horizon, in the direction of the lines, there was a broad
belt of blue sky. The wind was blowing into Germany. He came back
yawning. "We'll go up--ho, hum!"--tremendous yawn--"through a hole
before we reach the river. It's going to be clear presently, so the
higher we go the better."

The others yawned sympathetically.

"I don't feel very pugnastic this morning."

"It's a crime to send men out at this time of day--night, rather."

More yawns of assent, of protest. J. B. and I were the only ones fully
awake. We had finished our chocolate and were watching the clock
uneasily, afraid that we should be late getting started. Ten minutes
before patrol time we went out to the field. The canvas hangars
billowed and flapped, and the wooden supports creaked with the quiet
sound made by ships at sea. And there was almost the peace of the sea
there, intensified, if anything, by the distant rumble of heavy
cannonading.

Our Spad biplanes were drawn up in two long rows, outside the hangars.
They were in exact alignment, wing to wing. Some of them were clean
and new, others discolored with smoke and oil; among these latter were
the ones which J. B. and I were to fly. Being new pilots we were given
used machines to begin with, and ours had already seen much service.
_Fuselage_ and wings had many patches over the scars of old battles,
but new motors had been installed, the bodies overhauled, and they
were ready for further adventures.

It mattered little to us that they were old. They were to carry us out
to our first air battles; they were the first _avions_ which we could
call our own, and we loved them in an almost personal way. Each
machine had an Indian head, the symbol of the Lafayette Corps, painted
on the sides of the _fuselage_.