It is a curious fact that in the first months of the war many artillery officers refused to follow the directions of their aerial observers. A colonel of artillery who has been firing big guns all his life cannot be blamed for not thinking that a young observation officer and a mere aviator know enough about the work of batteries to tell him where his shells are falling. Orders, consequently, had to be issued placing the artillery absolutely under the direction of the observers and calling upon the pilots to report any case where a battery refused to be guided by the signals it received. That put an end to the trouble. At first I felt a strong aversion to flying over batteries in action. You are bound to get in close proximity to the trajectory of the shells, and the constant sensation and sound of the passing projectiles is none too pleasant. You get them both coming and going, and, no matter which you are trying to avoid, you are always taking a chance with the other. It is a question of choosing between the devil and the deep sea, with the devil constantly stepping into your path. [Illustration: Reduced facsimile of the photographic report supplied to the Headquarters Stall of the fighting at Cumières.] When you are observing for the artillery you must stay and die, if necessary, in the performance of your assigned duty. It is another matter with reconnoissance or photographic work. Here the main thing is to get back to headquarters with the information you have gained. If you are attacked and you see no chance of successfully fighting off the enemy, it is your business to run. After some weeks of service with the fire-control detail I was ordered to serve as a photography pilot. This I found a most interesting duty. Whenever we received orders to photograph a position we would start out immediately, flying very low—say, from one thousand eight hundred to three thousand feet. As we reached the part of the enemy’s positions to be photographed I would fly in parallel lines, while my observer took the photographs with a specially constructed telephoto camera. We would then hasten back to camp and immediately hand the plates over to the sergeant in charge of the dark room. This taciturn non-com would waste no time with words. In a few moments the photographs would be ready and on their way to headquarters. On several occasions I have seen photographs placed in the hands of the Etat-Major within an hour and a half after the order had been issued by the commanding officer there—examples of celerity and efficiency of service which have placed the photographic branch of aviation "hors concours." *ALL IN THE DAY’S WORK*