Morning Hate at us from the trenches too, but though we were holed over thirty times, they didn’t do any damage that mattered. We got back to our lines and eased up to cool the engine, and then climbed up to 9500 feet to see if we could hunt another Hun. However, nothing doing, so we returned home just in time, for our petrol was getting low and our kind messmates had eaten half our breakfast, as we were the last in. Otherwise a satisfactory time, though I would rather kill lots of ordinary Huns than their flyers, who are better fellows on the whole than the rest; but we can have no soft feelings now, after the Huns’ brutal performances. When they catch us, if they catch us alive, we have no hope at all for our future comfort. * * * * * Very tiresome; these fellows are the limit! I was just off to have a nice hot bath, when a rotten Hun in an Aviatik amused himself by dropping bombs, so we had to go up and chase him, but he bolted too fast, and got too low over his machine guns on the floor, for us to have a chance of closing right up. However, we fired at him and frightened him horribly, judging by his behaviour, and probably hit him hard, though we didn’t smash him entirely. I suddenly remembered it was tea-time and so we went back quick. The getting back past the guns is the worst part of it. Incidentally the observer saw some Hun movements, which he insisted on watching closely. I think he composed an essay or two as well, or perhaps it was a sonnet. The G.O.C. seemed very pleased with it, which was much more than I was, as we got Archied of course and hit in several places, early in the performance. Beastly nuisance getting back, as part of the propeller was broken off by a bit of shell, ditto the wings, and chunks were taken out of our woodwork. The vibration was horrid and we expected it would smash up the machine before we got home. However, we were only sea-sick. We eventually landed by flares about dark. A tiresome day, as I wanted the bath and the opportunity of refilling the mess cellar. However, Jack did it all for me, and he says it was quite nice. I dislike Jack now! * * * * * Thanks very much for the papers. We get the _Times_ and some others, twenty-four hours late, and also a daily official news, locally known as ‘Comic Cuts’ or ‘Saucy Sidelights on Soldiers’ Secrets.’ We were all much amused this morning by watching Jumbo photographing the Huns’ lines in a gale of wind which blew all the Archies adrift, the only trouble being that Jumbo was so busy with his machine that he nearly forgot to come home, even when the photographer had used up all his plates.