Brocard, recently
appointed attache to the Minister of Aeronautics, were coming down by
the early train. They were sure to arrive at the camp between nine and
ten, and a conversation with them could not but be instructive and
illuminating; so, better wait for them.
But, in spite of these tranquillizing thoughts, Guynemer was restless,
and his face showed the sallow color which always foreboded his physical
relapses. His mind was not really made up, and he would come and go,
strolling from his tent to the sheds and from the sheds to his tent. He
was not cross, only nervous. Suddenly he went back to the shed and
examined his _Vieux-Charles_. Why, the machine was not so bad after all;
the motor and guns had been repaired, and yesterday's accident was not
likely to happen again. If so, why not fly? In the absence of Heurtaux,
Guynemer was in command, and once more the necessity of setting a good
example forced itself upon him. Several flyers had started on scouting
work already; the fog was quickly lifting, the day would soon be
resplendent, and the notion of duty too quickly dazzled him, like the
sun. For duty had always been his motive power; he had always
anticipated it, from the day when he was fighting to enlist at Biarritz
to this 11th of September, 1917. It was neither the passion for glory
nor the craze to be an aviator which had caused him to join, but his
longing to be of use; and in the same way his last flights were made in
obedience to his will to serve.
All at once he was really resolved. _Sous-lieutenant_ Bozon-Verduraz was
requested to accompany him, and the mechanicians wheeled the machines
out. One of his comrades asked with assumed negligence: "Aren't you
going to wait till Major du Peuty and Major Brocard arrive?" Guynemer's
only answer was to wave towards the sky then freeing itself from its
veils of fog as he himself was shaking off his hesitancy, and his friend
felt that he must not be urgent. Everybody of late had noticed his
nervousness, and Guynemer knew it and resented it; tact was more
necessary than ever with him. Let it be remembered that he was the pet,
almost the spoiled child, of his service, and that it had never been
easy to approach him.
Meanwhile, the two majors, who had been met at the station, were told of
his nervous condition, and hurried to speak to him. They expected to
reach the camp by nine o'clock, and would send for him at once. But
Guynemer and Bozon-Verduraz had starte
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