ainly this did appear to be the case at first.
For we were air-blind. We saw little of the activity all around us,
and details on the ground had no significance. How were we to take
thought of time and place and altitude, note the peculiarities of
enemy machines, count their numbers, and store all this information
away in memory at the moment of combat? This was a great problem.

"What I need," J. B. used to say, "is a traveling private secretary.
I'll do the fighting and he can keep the diary."

I needed one, too, a man air-wise and battle-wise, who could calmly
take note of my clock, altimeter, temperature and pressure dials,
identify exactly the locality on my map, count the numbers of the
enemy, estimate their approximate altitude,--all this when the air
was criss-crossed with streamers of smoke from machine-gun tracer
bullets, and opposing aircraft were maneuvering for position, diving
and firing at each other, spiraling, nose-spinning, wing-slipping,
climbing, in a confusing intermingling of tricolor cocards and black
crosses.

We made gradual progress, the result being that our patrols became a
hundred-fold more fascinating, sometimes, in fact, too much so. It was
important that we should be able to read the ground, but more
important still to remember that what was happening there was only of
secondary concern to us. Often we became absorbed in watching what was
taking place below us, to the exclusion of any thought of aerial
activity, our chances for attack or of being attacked. The view, from
the air, of a heavy bombardment, or of an infantry attack under cover
of barrage fires, is a truly terrible spectacle, and in the air one
has a feeling of detachment which is not easily overcome.

Yet it must be overcome, as I have said, and cannot say too many times
for the benefit of any young airman who may read this journal. During
an offensive the air swarms with planes. They are at all altitudes,
from the lowest artillery _reglage_ machines at a few hundreds of
metres, to the highest _avions de chasse_ at six thousand meters and
above. _Reglage_, photographic, and reconnaissance planes have their
particular work to do. They defend themselves as best they can, but
almost never attack. Combat _avions_, on the other hand; are always
looking for victims. They are the ones chiefly dangerous to the unwary
pursuit pilot.

Drew's first official victory came as the result of a one-sided battle
with an Albatross single-