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V., my pilot and flight-commander, was given to a quick dive at the enemy, a swerve aside, a recul pour mieux sauter, a vertical turn or two, and another dash to close grips from an unexpected direction, while I guarded the tail-end. But writing reminiscences of Umpty Squadron's early days is a melancholy business.
"To get the wind behind us," he explained, "we shall cross well to the south of Péronne. Next, we go to Boislens. After that we pass by Nimporte, over the Forêt de Charbon to Siègecourt; then up to Le Recul and back by Princebourg, St. Guillaume, and Toutprès.
To make matters worse, the strong wind that had been our friend on the outward journey was now an enemy, for it was drifting us to the north, so that we were obliged to steer almost dead into it to follow the set course. As we passed along the straight canal from Le Recul to Princebourg many barges were in evidence.
They threw up at us a large quantity of high-explosive shells, but the shots were all wide and we remained unworried. To judge by the quality of the A.-A. shooting each time I called there, it seemed likely that half-trained A.-A. gunners were allowed to cut their active service teeth on us at Siègecourt. Having squeezed Siègecourt of all movement, we headed for Le Recul.
About a dozen Hun machines were rising from aerodromes at Passementerie, away to the left, but if they were after us the attempt to reach our height in time was futile. Between Le Recul and Princebourg we dropped fifteen hundred feet below the three rear machines, which hovered above us.
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