Soon pilots and bombardiers were seated in their planes, awaiting the word from the squadron commander who had come down to see them off. Voissard's plane was to make the first ascent. Seated behind, in the place usually occupied by the observer, Jimmy held his breath as the commander sang out, "All ready!" "Turn!" shouted Voissard to the mechanician standing beside the plane. The man spun the propeller and jumped back out of the way. The engine tuned up and then--Jimmy felt the movement of the plane as it began rolling along the field. It gathered speed, then began to rise. At last he knew what it meant to fly. Higher and higher the plane rose. Far below Jimmy could see the lights of the aviation field as mere pin points. Soon these became completely obliterated. Looking back, Jimmy could make out the other planes stringing in a long succession behind them. Headed straight for the German lines, the Voisin suddenly plunged into a cloud bank and the flying squadron vanished from Jimmy's view. At length, emerging from the clouds, he could see none of the squadron. He guessed that they were now going through the same bank that had lately engulfed Voissard's plane. His first sensation of dizziness now past, he began to realize that it was very cold up there in the clouds. He was grateful for the warmth of his fur-lined coat. He calculated that they must be sweeping the skies at the rate of at least eighty miles an hour. He wished he might speak to Voissard or Gaston, but the roar of the engine was too great for that. Shouting his loudest he would not be able to make himself heard. He wondered what had become of the squadron. Had they lost their companions so soon? Keeping up an anxious watch, he saw at last plane after plane reappear. They had won free of the cloud bank. Presently he saw something else. Fifteen hundred feet below him, he could make out red, twisting lines of fire, accompanied by glaring, crimson flashes. He was over his own lines. Those flaming lines and vivid flashes proceeded from the American guns. Now the plane was beginning to soar higher. Voissard was getting safely above the up-climbing curve of the American shells. On they went. They were now crossing what looked like a dense black patch. Jimmy knew it to be No Man's Land. He could see it plainly, as, ever and again, a star shell rose and bathed it in a radiant, bluish-white light. It was the deadly, cruel land that had claimed poor Schnitz. Soon the writhing lines of fire were again visible. They had crossed No Man's Land and were over the German lines. Both sides were furiously at it. It was evident to him, even at that height, that Fritz was getting heavier punishment than he was inflicting. The air shock of the explosion of American shells made the plane rock like a ship at sea.