I met Moore-Brabazon, of the Flying Corps, on the quay. With a few days' leave in his pocket, he was as happy as a sandboy. "We had a chap rejoin us a day or so ago," said "Brab," "who had a remarkable story to tell. His name is Mapplebeck. He is an officer in the Liverpool Regiment, attached to the R.F.C. "Not long ago, Mapplebeck was up alone on a scout near Lille, when his engine went wrong, and he had to make a descent. He knew he was well inside the German lines, but was shocked to see a couple of Huns, apparently doing sentry duty, not far from where he had planned to land. "The two Germans ran toward the machine as it came down, each grabbing hold of the left wing. The biplane tossed and rolled and pitched about as it came to rest. Mapplebeck tumbled out on the right side, dived head first through a thick hedge a few feet distant, and ran hot-foot down a deep ditch that led to a cross-hedge not far away. "He lost no time in dodging through the further hedge, and was off like a hare down another ditch. The Huns must have taken the wrong turning when pursuing him, as he got clear away and hid in a dwelling till night. "Obtaining some peasant clothing, Mapplebeck made his way into Lille. Though the town was full of Germans, his disguise was so good he was not bothered in any way. Finding a loyal French business man, Mapplebeck cashed a London cheque, for which he received French notes bearing a German stamp. With these he bought a suit of clothing, and started to tramp the road to Belgium. "He reached Belgium safely, kept on, and eventually crossed the Dutch border. Obtaining passage to London, he at once went to Farnborough and reported. There he was given a new machine which was ready to come to France. He lost no time in bringing it across the channel and reporting for duty, just as though nothing unusual had happened. "One by one we obtained from him the details of his experiences. He was mightily modest about it all, and laughed at the idea that he had done anything that was the least bit out of the ordinary." On April 17th the 2nd Cavalry Division held a horse show at Vieux Berquin. The horses and the riding were worthy of the best that Dublin or Olympia could produce. Sunday, the 18th, I had set aside for a joy-ride. Running to St. Omer, I picked up Major St. Leger, of the Irish Guards, Assistant Camp Commandant, and then called at a farm near Meteren, where the 9th Lancers' Headquarters were billeted.