Course changed! What are Headquarters orders for the flight? A reconnaissance over ----, I puzzle out as well as my now fevered brain will allow me, whether reconnaissance will be tactical or strategical, and again whether “line” or “area.” For the benefit of those who may perhaps read my diary I will here endeavor to explain the fine points which divide the two. The former reconnaissance necessitates flying and observing along a line between two given points on the map, these points having already been marked in before leaving the ground. Area reconnaissance, on the other hand, comprises observation of a whole area or district. To do this successfully it is necessary to fly backward and forward several times, thus adding greater risk to the adventure, and taking a great deal longer time to accomplish. Hence they are not undertaken very far away from our own lines, and then only if particular information is required. Thus far the weather had rendered the trip ideal. But it would be an entirely different matter, I surmised, when we came within reach of the enemy anti-aircraft guns. Already they were getting uncomfortably near. Should we have an easy passage across or should we have to climb up for our lives above the bursting “Archies”? We were not left long in doubt. Their men must have been up particularly early that morning, for the very first shot came within an ace of blighting two young and promising careers. There was a loud report on the ground below, the familiar “sing” of an approaching shell, which at first interests one, but which in the course of time one gets to dread. Then it seemed for the moment that the whole machine had been blown to atoms. But no! We started to climb hurriedly. “High explosive,” the pilot bawled in my ear. “Going up higher.” For the next three minutes my feelings were the reverse of pleasant, and I fervently hoped that other observers did not suffer in the same way. Shells burst above, below, to the right, to the left, and all round us; but never near enough to do us any serious harm, though the bullets of one shrapnel shell certainly did rattle against the wings, piercing them with minute holes in several places, and I felt very thankful for the uncomfortable sandbag on which I sat, which protected me from bursting shells beneath. As we climbed to a higher altitude the Huns ceased their attentions, and we very soon arrived over the scene of our “line.” My bad attack of “cold feet” now having passed over, I set myself to think seriously upon the precepts drummed into my thick head by the instructor at the training school. “The observer” he was wont to say, “should always try to keep in touch with the military situation, and particularly in the encounter battle, and discover the disposition of our own troops.”