" The following letter is dated September 15, 1916.
_From the same to the same_
Some sport.
On the 16th, in a group of six, four of them squeezed at 25 meters.
In four days, six combats at 25 meters: filled a few Boches with
holes, but they did not seem to tumble down, though some were hard
hit all the same; then five boxing rounds up between 5100 and 5300
(altitude). To-day five combats, four of them at less than 25
meters, and the fifth at 50 meters. In the first, gun jammed at 50
meters. In the second, at 5200, the Boche in his excitement lost
his wings, and descended on his aerodrome in a wingless coach; his
ears must be humming (16th). The third was a nose-to-nose combat
with a fighting Aviatik. Too much impetus: I failed to hammer him
hollow. In the fourth, same joke with an L.V.G. in a group of
three: I failed to hammer him, I lurched: _pan_, a bullet near my
head. In the fifth, I cleaned up the passenger (that is the third
this week), then knocked up the pilot very badly at 10
meters,--completely disabled, he landed evidently with great
difficulty, and he must be in hospital.
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