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Instead of coming out of it above and behind the German, when I pulled up in ligne de vol I was under him! I kept on falling in a vrille, thinking this would give the German the poorest possible target. Pulling up in ligne de vol I looked over my shoulder again.
On one of my first sorties I happened to look over my shoulder and I saw five or six Germans in the most beautiful alignment. And they were all slanting up to dive on me. I was scared out of my life: went down full motor, then cut and fell into a vrille. Came out of that and had another look. There they were in the same position, only farther away. I didn't tumble even then, except farther down.
This second sentence may well give us heart of hope considering the horde of French terms which invaded our tongue in the long years of the Great War. If camion and avion, vrille and escadrille supply no permanent need of the language they may soon become obsolete, just as mitrailleuse and franc-tireur slipped out of sight soon after the end of the Franco-Prussian war of fifty years ago.
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