* * * * * One of boyhood’s most joyous recollections is that of “balloon day” at the county fair, when the great yellow spheroid in the middle of the race-track enclosure slowly filled (oh, so slowly, it seemed!), bulged, tugged at its moorings, and at last rose majestically skyward, the aeronaut, a lithe figure in spangled tights, waving down to the sea of upturned faces as he swung at ease in his cobweb-like trapeze. But, though the recollection of the balloonist’s skill and daring remains sharp and clear in our minds, so much space has been devoted in the war books and the news despatches to the exploits of the aviators that we seem to have completely lost sight of the no less hazardous work of those daring souls who, day after day, in heat and cold, in snow and drenching rain, sat huddled in their frail baskets under the swaying gas-bags, often a mile above the ground, and through their glasses watched what the enemy was doing, heedless of the repeated attempts made by the enemy’s gunners and flyers to bring them down. Though they have received practically no share of the publicity and praise which has been showered upon the flying-men, the officers and men of the Balloon Section of the Air Service deserve from the public its deepest gratitude and appreciation. The perilous nature of their work is shown by the fact that in the last six weeks of the war twenty-one American balloons were lost, six being destroyed by shell-fire and fifteen by enemy planes. Its importance is emphasized by the fact that the Germans gave official credit to their aviators of _one and a half planes for every balloon brought down_. [Illustration: A SENTINEL OF THE SKIES. Those daring souls who day after day sat huddled in their frail baskets and through their glasses watched what the enemy was doing.] [Illustration: AN AMERICAN OBSERVATION BALLOON LEAVING ITS “BED” BEHIND THE WESTERN FRONT.] [Illustration: A BALLOON COMPANY MANŒUVRING A CAQUOT FROM WINCH POSITION TO ITS BED. _Photograph by U. S. Air Service._]