We thus had opportunities for training, and preparing ourselves for the next forward push. The whole battalion was put through a course of musketry. The forward slopes of our position provided an admirable field firing range, with all No Man's Land for the stray bullets to spend themselves upon. How it must have made the Turk itch to see men lying about in platoons in the open before his very eyes, and how he must have longed to have had a gun within range, and to have dispersed us with a few rounds of shrapnel. We also instituted a very successful shooting-gallery. In the front line beer was seldom procurable, though much appreciated. Such as we were able to obtain from the canteen was taken to the rifle range. An empty bottle was set up 200 yards in front of the firer and a full one behind him. If he hit the former he became entitled to the contents of the latter. Each man was entitled to one free shot, and as many more as he liked at a cost of a penny each. The result was, that, at a very nominal cost to the canteen funds, the individual shooting of the battalion considerably improved. Aerial activity was interesting. We soon became accustomed to the distinctive hum of the Hun machines flying high above us, followed by the barking of our "Archies." Then we could trace the track of the planes across the sky by the line of white smoke puffs left by our bursting archy shells. Archy seldom reckons to get a direct hit on a plane, but, by the expenditure of quantities of ammunition, he makes the Hun fly too high to see anything of value or to drop bombs with much hope of success. More tangible results were obtained by our fighting planes, which engaged the Hun in the air. A pretty little fight took place a thousand feet or so above our heads, between two of our planes and a couple of Huns. After preliminary circling and manoeuvring for place, during which one Hun machine discreetly went all out for home, one of our planes swooped straight on to the remaining Hun, pouring a burst of Lewis gun fire into the pilot and observer at short range. Badly wounded, the Hun pilot turned his machine full speed for home. But our other plane, which had retained its altitude, hovered over him, headed him off from home, and shepherded him down on to the Plain, where he was forced to land and was captured. On another occasion, we were puzzled to see a Hun plane, returning from our lines, pitch in enemy territory, and, though unattacked, go up in smoke and flame. Subsequent reports furnished an explanation. The Hun pilot had descended without being very sure of his whereabouts. The Turks, mistaking him for a Britisher, opened fire upon him with a machine gun. Thereupon, believing himself to be in hostile territory, the pilot burnt his machine and surrendered--to his own friends!