ceeded in
influencing the rebellious Guynemer; but nobody was there to replace
him. September 5 was a day of extraordinary activity for Guynemer. His
magic airplane was still at the works, where he had complained of not
having another in reserve; and not being able to wait for it, he sent
for his old machine and immediately attacked a D.F.W. at close quarters,
as usual; but the Boche was saved by the jamming of both of Guynemer's
guns, and the aviator had to get back to his landing-ground. Furious at
this failure, he promptly soared up again and attacked a chain of five
one-seated planes, hitting two, which however managed to protect each
other and escape. After two hours and a half, Guynemer went home again,
overhauled his guns, found a trigger out of order, and for the third
time went up again, scouring the sky for two more hours, indignant to
see nothing but prudent Germans keeping far out of his reach. So, he had
flown five hours and a half in that one day. What nerves could stand
such a strain? But Guynemer, seeking victory, cared little for strain or
nerves. Everything seemed to go against him: Heurtaux away, his best
machine not available, his machine-guns out of order, and Germans
refusing his challenge. No wonder if he fretted himself into increased
irritation.

* * * * *

Guynemer liked Lieutenant Raymond, and every now and then flew with him.
This officer being on leave, Guynemer on September 8 asked another
favorite comrade, _sous-lieutenant_ Bozon-Verduraz, to accompany him.
The day was sullen, and a thick fog soon parted the two aviators, who
lost their way and only managed to get clear of the fog when
Bozon-Verduraz was over Nieuport and Guynemer over Ostend.

September 9 was a Sunday, and Guynemer over-slept and had to be roused
by a friend.

"Aren't you coming to mass?"

"Of course."

The two officers went to mass at Saint-Pol-sur-Mer, and the weather
having grown worse Guynemer did not fly; but instead of enjoying the
enforced rest, he resented it as a personal wrong. Next day he flew
three times, and was unlucky again every time. On his first flight, on
his two-gun machine, he found that the water-pump control did not work,
and had to land on a Belgian aerodrome, where he was welcomed and
asked to sit for his photograph. The picture shows a worried, tense,
disquieting countenance under the mask ready to be pulled down. After
frightening the enemy so long, Guyneme