Looking back I found that the other battery had put out their panel “Battery is ready.” It sternly called me back to my duty and the task before me for it was not the time to indulge in sentimental reveries—I must act! I hastily called the second battery and again repeated my call to the first, then directing my pilot to head toward home I took one last look at the slowly moving, unsuspecting columns—then, setting my face homeward, I firmly pressed the key—one, two, three times. There was no doubt in my mind but that we should call it a day, so, we were homeward bound with that intention. From a strictly military standpoint we were proud enough of our performance and as we winged our way along I took things easy but kept casually looking about the sky to see that we were not taken unawares by any stray patrols. Looking ahead I saw the friendly captive balloons lolling along peaceably enough and my mind was centered pretty largely upon the seemingly monotonous existence of the men in the balloons who had to stay in one position for hour after hour, but I shuddered as I thought of being forced to jump from one of those bags in case of attack. After all, I was glad I was in an airplane instead of a balloon. For quite a while it seemed that we were lower than the balloons, then suddenly the balloons seemed to be considerably below us. My impression was that we were gaining altitude, but upon consulting my altimeter I found that we were flying at a constant height. One thing was certain, the balloons were getting lower; they no longer lolled, but everything seemed taut. For some reason they were frantically being hauled down. I readily ascertained the reason,—four German Fokkers coming head-on from Hunland with the undeniable intention of either burning the balloons or burning me. I hesitated a moment; the Huns kept straight on and I heaved a big sigh of relief. They were not going to burn me; at least, not for the present. The balloons seemed to be going down mighty slow, and the planes were coming fast. If the Huns could be stopped for only a half-minute the balloons would be safe. Here we were in a very happy position to divert the attack should we care to and also in a very unhappy position if we did not care to, for while it was not our duty to attack, yet indeed, in this case, it was our privilege. My mind was not made up what to do. If we turned to the right we would be directly in their path and above them. From instinct I shook the plane and motioned toward the four Fokkers and before I knew it, the pilot, thinking I intended to attack, started directly toward them. Now there is a vast difference between maneuvering for the purpose of diverting and maneuvering for the purpose of attack, for had it been one or two planes I would not have hesitated to attack under the circumstances, but I want to say that I’ll wait a long, long time before attacking four fast enemy Fokkers of my own accord under any circumstances.