THE STORY OF A THRILLING FIGHT IN THE AIR 



331 



meant only one thing a Hun machine gun. I jumped 

 to my feet and grabbed my gun, and at the same instant 

 saw a Hun Albatross scout only about 80 yards away 

 sitting on my 'tail' and pumping lead at me like a mad 

 man. It was like air to a drowning man to me when 

 I pressed the trigger and saw the flame burst from ( my 

 machine gun. I was conscious of but three things, that 

 I was swearing like a trooper; that I had got to kill him 

 or he me, and a sort of wild wonderment that I wasn't 

 being pumped full of lead already. Only one bullet 

 actually hit me. It cut through breeches and tunic but 

 never even scratched me. 



"As I had reached for my gun the pilot had made a 

 vertical turn to the right and opened out with our nose 



finishing in a spinning nose dive which only stopped 

 when he reached the earth, 7,000 feet below, a mass of 

 tangled wood steel and fabric. 



"Evidently I had killed the pilot. Almost at the same 

 instant that he had started on his last dive I became 

 conscious that we were driving at a terriffic rate, and 

 that our forward gun was ripping out its ominous ta-ta-ta. 

 1 then, for the first time, realized that there were two 

 more Huns in the front. They had attacked us upwards 

 and under each wing tip. The pilot had suddenly turned" 

 and we were rushing straight at each other both spitting 

 bullets at the rate of 600 a minute. We were barely 20 

 yards apart when he suddenly swerved aside and then 

 dived for home at an incredible speed. He was either 



Underwood and Underwood British Official Photograph 



LIMPING THANKFULLY HOME AFTER THE BATTLE 

 Marvelling that we made it at all riddled with bullets, with damaged controls, the pilot's instrument board destroyed, flying wires dlngling 

 and two struts badly cut, we landed to find that the radiator had been shot through and two cylinders sized from the heat. But we had accom- 

 plished that which we set out to do. 



down, so that we were doing about 150 M. P. H. As 

 we turned the Hun flashed across our tail sharply, 50 

 feet away. I distinctly remember noticing that the pilot 

 wore a black mustache. As he passed I got a short 

 burst of fire into him which made him swerve. I then 

 caught a glimpse of another Hun right under our tail 

 firing up at us and climbing like smock. I gave him a 

 short burst which turned him aside for a moment, and 

 then realized that our first friend had made a complete 

 loop and was again tearing down on us and firing like 

 bell. He was coming straight at me and I got about 50 

 rounds into him. Suddenly he swerved violently upwards 

 and outwards and went over onto one wing tip and 

 turned over like a falling leaf, over and over and down, 



wounded or he had 'conked' his engine. The two remain- 

 ing Huns evidently thought we were tough meat, for 

 they headed east. It was useless to follow as they had 

 too much speed for us. So we watched the other Hun 

 glide down and land in a field, evidently badly lamed. 

 In our drive on him we had reached a speed of 165 miles 

 an hour a speed beyond the straining point of our 

 machine. 



"Let me here pay a tribute to the British design and work- 

 manship, that she did not crumble up under the terrific 

 pressure especially in her damaged state. It is one of the 

 inexplicable things for which we can only thank God. 



"When we came to look at our condition, I marvelled 

 to be alive. We were riddled, our planes were shot to 



