At such a distance within their lines the Boche airplanes thought
themselves safe when, suddenly, _du Sud ou du Septentrion_, appeared
this knightly hero. And he would return smilingly, as fresh as when he
had started out. It was only with difficulty that a very brief statement
could then be extracted from him. His machine would be inspected, and
not a trace of any fragment found; he might have been a tourist
returning from a promenade. In more than a hundred combats his airplane
received only three very small wounds. His cleverness in handling his
machine was incredible: his close veering, his twistings and turnings,
made it impossible for the adversary to shoot. He also knew how to quit
the combat in time, if his own maneuvers had not succeeded. He seemed
invulnerable. But later, much later, while he was fighting on the Aisne
in May, 1917, Dorme, who had penetrated far within the enemy's lines,
never came back.
[Illustration: IN THE AIR]
Was Heurtaux the greatest, whose method was as delicate as himself--a
virtuoso of the air, clever, supple and quickwitted, whose hand and eye
equaled his thought in rapidity? Was it Deullin, skilled in approach,
and prompt as the tempest? Or the long-enduring, robust, admirable
_sous-lieutenant_ Nungessor, or Sergeant Sauvage, or Adjutant Tarascon?
Was it Captain Menard, or Sangloer, or de la Tour? But the reader knows
very well that it was Guynemer.
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