however, was to kill two unoffending citizens who were standing in
the streets and were struck by the fragments of the falling shells.

Most people seem to have the impression that it is as easy for an
aviator to see what is happening on the ground beneath him as
though he were looking down from the roof of a high building. Under
ordinary conditions, when one can skim above the surface of the
earth at a height of a few hundred feet, this is quite true, but it is
quite a different matter when one is flying above hostile troops who
are blazing away at him with rifles and machine-guns. During
reconnaissance work the airmen generally are compelled to ascend
to an altitude of a mile or a mile and a quarter, which makes
observation extremely difficult, as small objects, even with the aid of
the strongest glasses, assume unfamiliar shapes and become fore-
shortened. If, in order to obtain a better view, they venture to fly at a
lower height, they are likely to be greeted by a hail of rifle fire from
soldiers in the trenches. The Belgian aviators with whom I talked
assured me that they feared rifle fire more than bursting shrapnel,
as the fire of a regiment, when concentrated even on so elusive an
object as an aeroplane, proves far more deadly than shells.

The Belgians made more use than any other nation of motor-cars.
When war was declared one of the first steps taken by the military
authorities was to commandeer every motor-car, every motor-cycle
and every litre of petrol in the kingdom. As a result they depended
almost entirely upon motor-driven vehicles for their military
transport, which was, I might add, extremely efficient. In fact, we
could always tell when we were approaching the front by the
amazing number of motor-cars which lined the roads for miles in the
rear of each division.