Major Armengaud and I have decided to leave in our turn. I am really thrilled, I avow, at the idea of flying during the battle----
Some instants after, roads, flat stretches, forests, flit by beneath us. At the end of ten minutes' flight, we were in a rather thick mist--but what matter----!
We fly over the Meuse to the north of Verdun--we are 4,000 feet high and penetrate a thick cloud. We reach clear space. The air is full of _avions_--there are more than eighty! _Chasse_ squadrons cross the horizon. The "sausages" are all up as usual. The sky is marvelous. There are vacant spaces of gilded light to our left--Verdun is somewhat in the haze. To the north the sky is clear--I see the most gorgeous spectacle that my eyes have ever beheld! The cannonade thunders and a thousand flashes burst from the mouths of our guns. Our exploding projectiles form a regular and mobile parabola, marking the advance of our troops----
The enemy reacts but feebly and his barrage is laid down over our old lines. Shell-holes filled with water appear like cups brimming with molten gold! To the west the sky is reddish scarlet; to the east all is steel blue----
We return closer to earth. Our barrage has gone beyond Fort Douaumont--our 400's are still breaking on Fort Vaux; great columns of dirt rise more than 125 yards in height----
I jumped straight up in my seat; I laughed, I shouted, I wept----
Two _avions_ flew very low. The daring Captain de Beauchamp soared over the du Hély ravine; it looked as if we would skid along the ground----
We circled over the battlefield like a great bird that has discovered its prey and is ready to sweep on it!
The _poilus_ themselves, whom we regarded as the messengers of victory, swarmed around the superstructure of the Fort and signaled us! They waved their handkerchiefs and flapped their great-coats like birds' wings in order that we might recognize them.
I frequently turned to Major Armengaud, shouting:
Suddenly our motor became silent--Armengaud tapped me on the shoulder. I turned and he cried:
We were at that moment at a fixed altitude and I saw Armengaud twist to the right and to the left in the fuselage, looking for a safe spot to land----
All at once the wind whistled loudly and we assumed a dangerous slant. At certain moments the machine rocked--it did not seem to be going ahead--then it recovered its nose.