Although I came to Pau with a little preliminary experience, and had the "feel" for engines and steering, I was obliged to begin, with the others, at the bottom of the primary class. It was nearly two months before I was allowed to make my first flight. The French idea is that before a pupil commences his apprenticeship as a pilot he must understand thoroughly the machine he is going to handle and know just what he is trying to do in the air. Together with twenty-five other men, who began their studies at about the same time, I was ordered to attend the theoretical courses. When not in the classroom we were stationed on the aviation-field where we could watch the more advanced "élèves" fly, thus familiarizing ourselves by observation with all the details of our profession. Class-room work and field-practice go hand in hand. At first I did not realize how important these courses were, or how strict was the discipline under which we lived. One day, when my thoughts were a little more intent upon an expected week-end at Biarritz than upon what was being explained on the blackboard, the lecturer suddenly asked me a question. I could not answer and forthwith my forty-eight-hour leave was retracted. My Sunday was spoiled, but I considered myself lucky not to have received a "consigne," which involves sleeping in the guard-house every night for a week. The first subject we took up was mechanics. We were made to mount and dismount motors, and were familiarized with every part of their construction. Carburetors and magnetos came next, and then we learned what made a motor "go." At the front a pilot always has two "mecaniciens" to take care of his machine, but if on account of a breakdown he should have to land in hostile territory he must be able to make the necessary repairs himself, and make them quickly, or else run the risk of being taken prisoner. When flying, the pilot can usually tell by the sound of his motor whether it is running perfectly or not. Many a life has been saved in this way—the pilot knowing in time what was out of order before being forced to land in a forest, on a mountain peak, or in some other equally impossible place.