1914.]

Morning and evening they fly at Buc. They are constantly testing new
machines, and then, when they have tested them, they fly off to the army
on the eastern frontier, or to Amiens, perhaps. The other day a pilot
even flew to Antwerp right across the German lines over the heads of the
German army, but so high up that they never even guessed he was there.
Then they practise bomb-dropping, too, and they are always on the alert
for a possible Zeppelin raid on Paris. The other night a wireless
message reached the Eiffel Tower from the frontier that one had started.
It was midnight, and instantly the alarm was given at Buc. The airmen
sleep in the hangars there, and in five minutes they had their machines
wheeled out.

By the light of lanterns you could see mechanics running to and fro. The
airmen themselves were hurriedly putting on helmets and woollen gloves
and leather coats, for it is cold work hunting airships at midnight.
Their little armory of bombs was quickly overhauled, and the belt of the
machine gun that the man in the passenger's seat uses--the "syringe" as
they call it--was filled, and the engines were set running to see that
they were all right. But it was a false alarm after all, for, although a
close lookout was kept everywhere between Paris and the frontier for the
adventurous Zeppelin, and a hundred guns were craning up into the sky
ready for her if she hove in sight, she never came, and the tired airmen
turned in again to snatch a little sleep before morning parade.

Constantly airmen fly off to the front. Those who have been there say
that the supply trains and the whole service is working splendidly. They
have organized a new sport among the air-scouts. Every day, at the end
of the day's reconnoitring, the airmen count the bullet-holes in the