The _Matin_ has published a most appreciative article on the heroic deeds of British aviators. ‘The English aviators,’ says the writer, ‘are entrusted with the same mission as the French. The same halo of brilliancy encircles them, they obtain the same glorious results, and yet there is an indefinable something which distinguished them from their French colleagues. What is this elusive quality which enables one to distinguish the nationality of the aviator on merely hearing the details of an aerial exploit? I think it is because our Allies carry on aerial warfare in a more sporting than military spirit. They regard an encounter in the air with their abhorred enemies as an exciting and thrilling experience.’ The writer goes on to observe that the English mode of action, while permitting the British remarkable results, has also the inconvenience of augmenting the losses. ‘The combat in the air is often unequal, the Englishman will not hesitate to attack single-handed ten or twelve Germans. He brings down several, but is often beaten himself in the long run by force of numbers. The English, with perfect loyalty, state in their official communiqués the number of their aeroplanes which do not return to their base. In September they lost forty-eight airmen, brought down fifty-three enemy machines, and damaged about one hundred. The French during this month brought down fifty-six, damaged fifty-seven, but their losses were very much less. ‘But marvellous,’ the article continues, ‘are the deeds of heroism inscribed each day in the annals of the Royal Flying Corps. I will cite a few of them. During a reconnaissance in Egypt an aeroplane was attacked by two enemy machines. A bullet broke the English pilot’s jaw, another pierced his shoulder, a third found a resting-place in his left leg, and finally his left hand was also wounded. He fainted, regaining consciousness when only 150 metres above the earth. He was over his own lines. He brought his machine safely to land, and then found that his observer was wounded in the chest and shoulder. With difficulty he made his report and fainted and died.’ Another case cited is that of the heroic aviator Lieutenant Albert Ball, who during a bombing mission noticed twenty enemy aeroplanes, divided into three groups. He advanced towards the first group, which contained seven machines, and fired on them at a distance of ten yards. The first German wavered, wheeled, and fell. He then threw himself upon the others, firing two volleys at them. The first took fire and fell. The others attempted to escape, but Lieutenant Ball immediately started in pursuit and followed them until he had discharged his last cartridge, one of the enemy machines falling on a house in a village. Ball then returned for more ammunition, came back to the charge, and attacked three more aeroplanes, which he put out of action, then, having no more petrol, was obliged to return to his base with his machine disabled.