I know that they will rejoin that this was really luck, for I managed to escape death. But, was it luck that day, when, carried along by the great speed of my Nieuport, I rushed right past a Boche, giving him a chance to puncture an arm and wound me in the jaw? Was that luck, my fall of 3,000 meters after a shell had passed through a wing of the machine? And how many episodes there are of a similar character! Certainly, I do not wish to pretend that the question of chance, which I call Providence, does not intervene in war. But between that and the assurance that every act is guided by a manifestation of a good star--there is a world of difference. And if I dispute this opinion so sharply, as far as it concerns me, it is not, _certes_, because I am annoyed, but, on the contrary, because I believe that it is rendering a poor service to say that we succeed in any human activity through luck. Yet if we will only eliminate this factor we shall recognize the fact that neither that unfortunate Dormé nor I are instances of the effect of chance upon the career of airplane-hunters. He was surnamed “Invulnerable” because he almost always came back from his cruises without a scratch. We were almost astounded if his airplane bore the mark of a single bullet. With me, on the contrary, I had the special faculty of coming back with missiles all over my machine. Why was there this difference? We had almost the same methods of attack. We proceeded along uniform principles, approaching the enemy to point-blank distance. What then? The reason is plain: Dormé was better at maneuvering than I. He called upon his skill to help him at the moment of attack, and when he judged that he was not sure of success, he went into a spin and broke away from the duel. I, on the contrary, used the normal method of flying, never having recourse to acrobatics, unless it was the last means to be employed. I stayed close to my adversary, as if I were possessed. When I held him, I would not let him go. These two systems have their advantages and their defects, which should not astonish you, for perfection is not of this world. I can draw but one conclusion from these two methods of fighting, and it is of capital importance. It is that hunting in the air must be done according to the temperament and character of each individual hunter. If it show itself as individual prowess, all the better. This must be cried out aloud, for many young men come to the squadron with false ideas and arrested wills, planning to bring down Boches in the style of Dormé or Heurteaux. It is deplorable. Nothing is to be expected of the man who relies upon his memory in attacking an airplane. He may recall the way that some Ace acted under similar circumstances. He may attain a measure of success, but he will never be a real scout. He who has in him the quality of a champion is the pilot who has recourse to his own initiative, to his own judgment, to his own personal equation.