Boche over German country he may have no
witnesses, in which case his report is attended by an elusive shadow of
polite doubt. But if the deed be done near the trenches, his success is
seen by plenty of people only too willing to support his claim.
Sometimes a pilot may even force a damaged Boche machine to land among
the British. He then follows his captive down, receives the surrender,
and wonders if he deserves the Military Cross or merely congratulations.

The tactics of an air battle on a larger scale are much more complicated
than those for single combats. A pilot must be prepared at every instant
to change from the offensive to the defensive and back again, to take
lightning decisions, and to extricate himself from one part of the fight
and sweep away to another, if by so doing he can save a friend or
destroy an enemy.

To help you realise some of the experiences of an air battle, my very
dear madam, let us suppose you have changed your sex and surroundings,
and are one of us, flying in a bunch over the back of the German front,
seeking whom we may devour.

A moment ago the sky was clear of everything but those dainty
cloud-banks to the east. Very suddenly a party of enemies appear out of
nowhere, and we rush to meet them. Like the rest of us, you concentrate
your whole being on the part you must play, and tune yourself up to the
strain attendant on the first shock of encounter. What happens in the
first few seconds often decides the fight.

The opposing forces close up and perfect their order of battle. The
usual German method, during the past few weeks, has been to fly very
high and range the machines one above the other. If the higher craft are
in trouble they dive and join the others. If one of the lower ones be
surrounded those above can swoop down to its help. Our own tactics vary
according to circumstances.

At the start it is a case of follow-my-leader. The flight-commander
selects a Boche and dives straight at him. You follow until you are
within range, then swerve away and around, so as to attack from the
side. Then, with a clear field, you pour in a raking fire by short
bursts--_ta-ta-ta-ta_, _ta-ta-ta-ta-ta_, _ta-ta-ta-ta_, aiming to hit
the Boche pilot and allowing for deflection. From all directions you
hear the rattle of other guns, muffled by the louder noise of the
engine.

A third British machine is under the Boche's tail, and the observer in
it is firing upwards. The three of you draw ne