There—suddenly before me, a yellow-white burst of flame! The machine bounds upward; at the same time the major shrinks together, blood runs from his shoulder, the wiring of one of the wings is shattered. To be sure, the motor still booms and thunders as before, but the propeller fails. An exploding grenade had knocked it to pieces, torn one of the wings to shreds, and smashed the major’s shoulder. Steeply my machine sinks to the ground. By calling up all my power, I succeed in getting the machine into a gliding flight, and I throw the biplane down into the tops of the forest trees. I crash through the branches and tree crowns. I strike heavily, and know no more what goes on around me. When I wake again from my unconsciousness, I find Major G. lying beside me on the ground, in the midst of a group of Landwehr men. German outposts had recognized me as a friend, and had forced their way into the woods, although only in small numbers, to protect me. Major G. had suffered a severe injury to his shoulder, which made it necessary to transfer him to the nearest field hospital. I, however, had only sustained a bruise on my leg, and after the application of an emergency bandage remained with the outpost, later to find my way, by all possible—and some impossible—means of transportation, back to my troop. WARNEFORD’S TRIUMPH The Brilliant Exploit That Marked the First “Down” of a “Zepp” by Airplane The air raids on the coast towns of England were regarded as the most brutally wanton of the cowardly “frightfulness” tactics of the Germans employed against England. The killing of non-combatants, chiefly women and children, and the destruction of private property were the only material results of those raids, but the moral indignation of the world was aroused. After a period of suspension of this sort of warfare the Germans once more, in June, 1915, began raiding the East and Northeast Coast, the most serious of any that had happened being the raid of June 6.