to
Germany than we knew. We walked down the main street of a village
where we saw a large crowd of German soldiers, spraying bullets among
them, then climbed into the clouds before a shot could be fired at us.
Later we nearly attacked a hospital, mistaking it for an aviation
field. It was housed in _bessonneau_ hangars, and had none of the
marks of a hospital excepting a large red cross in the middle of the
field. Fortunately we saw this before any of us had fired, and passed
on over it at a low altitude to attack a train. There is a good deal
of excitement in an expedition of this kind, and soldiers themselves
say that surprise sorties from the air have a demoralizing effect upon
troops. But as a form of sport, there is little to be said for it. It
is too unfair. For this reason, among others, I was glad when Davis
turned homeward.

While coming back I climbed to five thousand metres, far above the
others, and lagged a long way behind them. This was a direct violation
of patrol discipline, and the result was, that while cruising
leisurely along, with motor throttled down, watching the swift changes
of light over a wide expanse of cloud, I lost sight of the group. Then
came the inevitable feeling of loneliness, and the swift realization
that it was growing late and that I was still far within enemy
country.

I held a southerly course, estimating, as I flew, the velocity of the
wind which had carried us into Germany, and judging from this estimate
the length of time I should need to reach our lines. When satisfied
that I had gone far enough, I started down. Below the clouds it was
almost night, so dark that I could not be sure of my location. In the
distance I saw a large building, brilliantly lighted. This was
evidence enough that I was a good way from the lines. Unshielded
windows were never to be seen near the front. I spiraled slowly down
over this building, examining, as well as I could, the ground behind
it, and decided to risk a landing. A blind chance and blind luck
attended it. In broad day, Drew hit the only post in a field five
hundred metres wide. At night, a very dark night, I missed colliding
with an enormous factory chimney (a matter of inches), glided over a
line of telegraph wires, passed at a few metres' height over a field
littered with huge piles of sugar beets, and settled, _comme une
fleur_, in a little cleared space which I could never have judged
accurately had I known what I was doing.

Shad