Sinopsis

It was the second day in February, 1915.
I'll not forget it in a hurry. That day I fell into the hands of the German
Army. "Fell," in my case, was the correct word, for my monoplane was
greeted with a volley of shots from some tree-hidden German troops as I
was ing over the north-eastern edge of the Argonne Forest.
I was returning from Saarbruck when I got winged. Bullets whizzed
through the 'plane, and one or two impinged on the engine. I tried to turn
and fly out of range, but a shot had put the rudder out of action. An
attempt to rise and trust to luck was baulked by my engine losing speed. A
bullet had opened the water cooler, and down, down the 'plane glided, till
a cle...