Suddenly he darted into position and for a second hovered uncertainly. Then, with a dive like that of a dragon-fly, he rushed down to the attack. Again a sheet of flame and a shower of sparks. This time the balloon sagged. The flames crept slowly around its silken envelope. "Touché!" cried the multitude. Then the balloon burst and fell to the ground, a mass of flames. High above, the little Nieuport saucily continued its pranks, as though contemptuous of such easy prey. To the north a group of tiny specks in the sky seemed to grow in size and number. Nearer and nearer they came. I knew they must be a bombarding escadrille, returning from a raid across the enemy’s lines. One, two, three, I counted them, up to twelve. Slowly they floated along as if tired by their long flight, and then gently they began to drop down. They rolled smoothly across the field and stopped before their hangars. Cannon protruded menacingly from their armored, boat-shaped bodies as the pilots climbed down and stretched themselves. "At the front this morning, to-night they can dine in Paris," jealously sighed an infantry officer. "But," replied an aviator from our group, "there are two of them who will probably never dine in Paris again. Fourteen started out this morning. Now they number only twelve." *ORDERED TO THE FRONT* After three weeks at Plessis-le-Belleville I became "disponible," that is to say, I was listed among the first twenty aviators who were considered ready for duty at the front. From that moment orders directing my future movements might be received any minute, and I was under restriction not to stray too far away. I must say that I experienced a curious sensation, waiting around in this way, not knowing where I would be in a week. You never know to what sector of the front you are going until your orders are handed to you. Three days after my name had been posted on the bulletin-board an order came detaching five pilots for duty with the "Armée de l’Orient" at Salonica. My name was sixth on the list, so I missed by one being among them. That evening, however, my turn came. This time the direction was Toul. When men leave the Réserve for the front there are no sad leave-takings. Every pilot seems to be glad that his turn has come to do his share in the defense of his country, and instead of being downcast he is light-hearted. Yet the part which he is to play in the air involves chances which are four to one against his coming through alive.