on fire; to Lieutenant Viguier who, on April 18, had the pluck to come down to twenty-five meters above the enemy’s lines and calmly make his observations; and to so many others who did their duty with the same daring, intelligence, and conscientiousness, to the hundreds of more humble airmen who, while the infantry says the sanguinary mass, throw down from above, like the chorister boys in the corpus Christi procession, the red roses of epics!

The whole Storks Escadrille had received from General Duchene the following citation:  “Escadrille No. 3.  Commander:  Captain Heurtaux.  A brilliant chasing escadrille which for the past two years has fought in every sector of the front with wonderful spirit and admirable self-sacrifice.  The squadron has just taken part in the Lorraine and Champagne operations, and during this period its members have destroyed fifty-three German machines which, added to others previously brought down, makes a total of one hundred and twenty-eight certainly demolished, and one hundred and thirty-two partly disabled.”

This battle on the Aisne, with its famous climax at the Chemin des Dames, began to slacken in July; and it was decided that the chasing squadrons, including the Storks, should be transferred to one of the British sectors where another offensive was being prepared.  But before leaving the Fismes or Rheims district, Guynemer was active.  He had not been given his new rank in the Legion of Honor to be idle:  that was not his way.  On the contrary, his habit was to show, after receiving a distinction as well as before, that he was worthy of it.  On July 6 he engaged five two-seaters, and brought down one in flames.  The next day his notebook records two more victories: 

“Attacked with Adjutant Bozon-Verduraz, four Albatros one-seaters, above Brimont.  Downed one in flames north of Villers-Franqueux, in our own lines.  Attacked a D.F.W. which spun down in our lines at Moussy.”

These victories, his forty-sixth, forty-seventh, and forty-eighth, were his farewell to the Aisne.  But these excessive exertions brought on nervous fatigue.  The escadrille had only just reached its new station, when Guynemer had to go into hospital, whence he wrote his father on July 18 as follows: 

     Dear Father: 

Knocked out again.  Hospital.  But this time I’m flourishing.  No more wooden barracks, but a farmhouse right in the fields.  I have a room all to myself.  Quite correct:  I downed three Fritzes, one ablaze, and the next day again great sport:  mistook four Boches for Frenchmen.  At first fought three of them, then one alone at 3200 to 800 meters.  He took fire.  They will have to wait till the earth dries so they can dig him out.  An hour later a two-seater turned up at 5500.  He blundered, and fell straight down on a 75, which died of the shock.  But so did the passenger.  The pilot was simply a bit excited, for which he couldn’t be blamed.  His machine had not