[Footnote 27:  Unpublished notes by J. Constantin.]

When had he ceased to think himself invincible?  The reader no doubt remembers how he recovered from his wound at Verdun, and the shock it might have left, merely by flying and offering himself to the enemy’s fire with the firm resolve not to return it.  Eight times he had been brought down, and each time with full and prolonged consciousness of what was happening.  On many occasions he had come back to camp with bullets in his machine, or in his combination.  Yet these narrow escapes never reacted on his imagination, damped his spirit, or diminished his furia.  But had he thought himself invincible?  He believed in his star, no doubt, but he knew he was only a man.  One of his most intimate friends, his rival in glory, the nearest to him since the loss of Dorme, the one who was the Oliver to this Roland, once received this confidence from Guynemer:  “One of the fellows told me that when he starts up he only thinks of the fighting before him; he found that sufficiently absorbing; but I told him that when the men start my motor I always make a sign to the fellows standing around.  ‘Yes, I have seen it,’ he answered; ‘the handshake of the airman.  It means au revoir.’  But maybe it is farewell I am inwardly saying,” Guynemer added, and laughed, for the boy in him was never far from the man.

* * * * *

Towards the end of July, while he was in Paris seeing to the repairs for his machine after bringing down his fiftieth enemy, he had gone to Compiegne for a short visit.  His father, knowing his technical ability and his interest in all mechanical improvements, and on the other hand noticing a nervousness in his manner, dared for the first time to hint timidly and allusively at the possibility of his being useful in some other field.

“Couldn’t you be of service with respect to making engines, etc.?”

But he was embarrassed by his son’s look of questioning surprise.  Every time Guynemer had used his father’s influence in the army, it had been to bring himself nearer to danger.

“No man has the right to get away from the front as long as the war lasts,” he said.  “I see very well what you are thinking, but you know that self-sacrifice is never wasted.  Don’t let us talk any more about it....”

On Tuesday, August 28, Guynemer, having been obliged to come to Paris again for repairs to his airplane, went to Saint-Pierre de Chaillot.  It was not exceptional for him to visit this old church; he loved to prepare himself there for his battle.  One of the officiating priests has written since his death of “his faith and the transparency of his soul."[28] The Chaillot parishioners knew him well, but pretended not to notice him, and he thought himself one in a crowd.  After seeing the priest in the confessional, he usually enjoyed another little chat in the sacristy, and although he was no man for long prayers and meditations, he expressed his thoughts on such occasions in heartfelt and serious language.