Thursday morning, at nine, as I arrived in S., after a short trip to
Germany, two Frenchmen appeared--the first seen in the last four
weeks. I quickly rode out to the field, but came too late. I saw one
of our biplanes bring one of the enemies to earth; the other escaped.
I flew toward the front at Verdun, and came just in time for a little
scrape. Three Frenchmen had crossed over our lines and been attacked
by a Fokker, who got into difficulties, and had to retreat. I came to
his aid; attacked one of the enemy, and peppered him properly. The
whole bunch then took to their heels. But I did not let my friend
escape so easily. He twisted and turned, flying with great cleverness.
I attacked him three times from the rear, and once diagonally in
front. Finally, he spiralled steeply, toppled over and flew for a
while with the wheels up. Then he dropped. According to reports from
the ---- Reserve Division, he fell in the woods southwest of V.,
after turning over twice more. That was number 14.