Before the chief steward announced dinner, "aperitifs" were passed around; then the C.O. led the way from the ward-room into the adjoining mess, where the officers stood at attention on each side of the long table until the C.O. said, "Gentlemen, be seated." If any one came in late to dinner, he apologized to the C.O. before taking his place at the table; and no matter how oily and dirty he may have been a few moments earlier, he entered the mess clean, freshly shaven, and in neat uniform. This mess etiquette, as it was called, did not interfere in any way with the good-fellowship existing between the C.O. and his junior officers; but it prevented men who had been away from home and the society of ladies for many years from growing lax in manners and careless of personal appearance. After dinner, decanters of port were passed around and the King's health was drunk: "Gentlemen, The King." This toast means nothing to us Americans unless we have drunk it among British officers at the front. Under such conditions, "Gentlemen, The King," is a call to patriotism, a spur to endeavor, and an ideal of courage which must be lived up to. We Americans are so apt to think of a king as a despot or tyrant that it takes us a long time to understand the love which the Englishman has for his King. The King of England is as much of a symbol to Englishmen as the Stars and Stripes are a symbol to us. The King, as an individual, has no power, except the power of influence. This power is great when the influence exerted is in the right direction, but the King has no dictatorial power similar to that which may be granted to our Presidents. The King is merely a symbol which stands in the minds of Englishmen for patriotism, justice, democracy, and humanity. So when the Bedouins raised their glasses to the toast, "Gentlemen, The King," they paid a tribute to all that Great Britain and her Allies were fighting for--democracy, justice, and freedom of the individual from oppression. After this final toast, every aviator went to his quarters and clambered into his bulky but warm flying clothes. There was no hurry or bustle, but each aviator, thoroughly equipped for the raid with maps, charts, and instruments, arrived at the map-room on a definite moment. Here he received a few final instructions from the Commanding Officer; then, smoking a last cigarette, he made his way through the dusk to his own aeroplane. While the aviators drank to "Gentlemen, The King," the mechanics were warming up the twin motors of each aeroplane, the bomb-racks were being filled with fourteen one-hundred-and-twelve-pound bombs, the guns were being mounted, and by the time the aviators arrived on the aerodrome the huge Handley-Page bombing planes were in readiness for a nine hours' flight over Germany.