A visitor landed at our ’drome from night bombing and a bomb blew his machine up on landing. He calmly got out of the scrap-heap and walked away. It was a miraculous escape, and most of our people who were asleep thought it was a Hun bombing us. The engine was still running on the ground, and the C.O. stopped it by using a fire extinguisher in the air intake--a jolly clever and plucky thing to do, as there were gallons of petrol all around, and, for all he knew, more bombs. There is a darling puppy here belonging to one of the men, and I go round and have a chat with it every morning when I inspect my transport. It is a jolly little thing, and quite looks forward to my visits. * * * * * At the Base was a Censor, He chopped up my letter; Thus he was a base Censor, Or why didn’t he let her Go by? Yet he’d some sense or News even better You’d get in my letter. * * * * * [Sidenote: Dual Control.] I am at present flying a machine fitted with dual control. A couple of days ago I went up to test it and E. came with me. We trotted round the country very low and stunted gently over neighbouring villages. You can easily tell when people are watching you, as in looking up the black blob of the hat changes to the white blob of the face. We went up again yesterday, and when I had taken the machine to 2,000 feet or so, I signalled E., and he fitted in his control lever and took charge. I then had a pleasant little snooze of twenty minutes or so, waking up now and then to give my lever a pat in the required direction when he did not get the machine level quickly enough after turning, or something like that. He did jolly well, turning the machine splendidly sometimes. Then, when it was just about a quarter of an hour before dinner time he took out his lever, and I brought the machine down in the most gorgeous spiral I have ever done. Absolutely vertical bank on. M. was very amusing afterwards. “Quite a good spiral that,” he said patronisingly to E., “for a first attempt.” I was up again this morning for two and a half hours with E. The weather was hopeless; our altitude was often under 2,000 feet by the lines. To relieve the monotony E. flew me for about half an hour while I observed--the clouds and mist! Finally, we got up a bit higher, and just before it was time to come home did a beautiful spiral quite close to the lines for the benefit of a few thousand Tommies and Huns in the trenches--just to show there was no ill-feeling, you know. I had just got my letters to-day when I was sent up, so I had to take them with me, and read them in the air on the way to the lines. * * * * *