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Updated: May 23, 2025
The flight-commander selects a Boche and dives straight at him. You follow until you are within range, then swerve away and around, so as to attack from the side. Then, with a clear field, you pour in a raking fire by short bursts ta-ta-ta-ta, ta-ta-ta-ta-ta, ta-ta-ta-ta, aiming to hit the Boche pilot and allowing for deflection.
Finding that the engine is on strike, the pilot detaches his machine from the confusion and glides across the lines, which are quite close. For five minutes there is a medley of swift darts, dives, and cart-wheel turns, amid the continuous ta-ta-ta-ta-ta of machine-guns. Then a German machine sways, staggers, noses downward vertically, and rushes earthward, spinning rhythmically.
'That's right! said the miller, his spirits reviving with the revival of Matilda. 'The lady is not used to country life; are you, ma'am? 'I am not, replied the sufferer. 'All is so strange about here! Suddenly there spread into the firmament, from the direction of the down: 'Ra, ta, ta! Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta! Ra, ta, ta!
As I did this, I heard an ominous ta-ta-ta-ta-ta from the returning German scout. My pilot cart-wheeled round and made for the Hun, his gun spitting continuously through the propeller. The two machines raced at each other until less than fifty yards separated them. Then the Boche swayed, turned aside, and put his nose down. We dropped after him, with our front machine-gun still speaking.
Again you press the trigger, and never was sound more welcome than the ta-ta-ta-ta-ta which shows you are ready for all comers. Once more you turn to meet the attacking Germans. As you do so your observer points to a black-crossed bird which is gliding down after he has crippled it. But three more are closing round you. Something sings loudly a yard away.
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