I promised to be careful and up we went. At about 8,000 feet I headed
her for the German trenches, and in a few minutes we were right over
them. Old Gott gave me a nudge then, and right ahead of us, a few miles
off, I saw two German Albatross machines coming right for us. Old Gott
and I had our telephones on and he said: "What about it, Lieutenant?"
"What do you say if we let 'em have a bit?" I asked him.
"Right-o, sir," said Gott. He was a game chap, that old fellow, and
he'd been in many a scrap. I often wonder whether he's still all right.
Well, he had a belt of cartridges on the gun, and he got ready to spin
'em out. I stuck the nose of the old bus up in the air and tried to get
on top of the Germans. My machine was a better climber than theirs,
and so when we passed I was a couple of hundred feet higher. Old Gott
pointed the gun at 'em and kept working the trigger. I could see the
flames shooting out of the muzzle. But the Boches were pretty busy too.
I caught sight of their gunmen working away with their quick-firers as
we passed. With the rush of air it was impossible to feel the whiz of
any of their bullets; but I knew jolly well that they were pretty close
to us, and we found later a lot of holes in our wings.
Well, all of us wheeled, and at it we went again. Gott put on another
belt of cartridges and let 'em have it. As we passed the second time
one of the Albatrosses dropped a couple of hundred feet. I thought that
Gott had winged the pilot, but it must have been only an airhole they
struck, for they straightened out and went on.
They're speedy beggars, those Albatrosses. By the time I got turned
again and straightened out they were half a mile or so off and driving
like the devil over their own country--running away from us.
"Let's go after them and give 'em what-for, Gott!" I said. "Very good,
sir," he answered. So after them we went. I gave the old bus all she
had, but I couldn't overtake the Albatrosses, nor even get near enough
to have another shot at them. Mile after mile we drove until, finally,
we came to a town--Ghent it must have been--and I thought it was about
time to start back. We were only about 6,000 feet high.
All of a sudden there was a little white cloud directly in front of us,
a few hundred yards off. We plunged right through it, and I got a sniff
of some strong acid-like odor. Then little white clouds began to appear
at our sides, and below us and above us. Gott pointed upward and I made
the machine climb as hard as she could without standing right on our
tail.
I realized then that the Albatrosses had purposely run away from us
to lead us into a trap. They had led us right over a long line of
"Archies."
There we were, twenty miles or so from home, with every anti-aircraft
gun the Germans had peppering away at us. We certainly made a race for
it. There was no use circling around and climbing. The only thing to do
was to go up as best we could while driving, straight ahead, and trust
to luck. To get home was the one thing we wanted.
It took us perhaps fourteen or fifteen minutes to do the twenty-odd
miles. And in every mile of that distance there were at least two or
three Archies letting drive at us. A couple of minor wires were struck,
and old Gott had his clothes torn by a bit of shell. I didn't get hit.
But it sure was a hot dash for home, and we were a couple of lucky
chaps to get there. I got an awful ragging from the C. O. for being
such a fool. Never again did I drive over the German territory so close
to the earth as 8,000 feet!