Somewhere, far over behind the German lines, they were probably
expecting him at that moment. His servant would be getting ready his
room. He had left the aerodrome only an hour before, and flown over
strange lines which we have never seen, but which had become as familiar
as his home to him, with no idea than to be back, as he always was
before, within an hour or so. And then something seems to be wrong with
the plane--he has to come down in a strange country; and within an hour
he is out of the war for good and all. He strides along biting his lip.
His comrades will expect him for an hour or so. By dinner-time they will
realise that there is another member gone from their mess.

While I am writing these words someone runs in to say that a German
aeroplane has been shot down--came down in flames, they say, and tore a
great hole in the roadside. There seems to be some such news every day,
now it is one of ours, now one of theirs. It is a brave game.

I suppose it needs a sportsman, even if he is a German, to fight in a
service like that. The pity of it that he is fighting for such an ugly
cause.




CHAPTER VIII

THE COMING STRUGGLE: OUR TASK

[Up to this time the Australians had been in quiet trenches in the green
lowlands near Armentières. From this time the coming struggle began to
loom ahead.]