We must remain inactive and powerless all day, when the others are participating in the fête!
Toward two-thirty o'clock the dark clouds in the south, part——The "cuckoos" leave their hangars, although many of the pilots are skeptical of the weather——
At three-fifteen a blue canopy in the heavens—at last! The whirring drowns everything—everyone hurries—one after the other they shoot out and take the air. Soon, perhaps, it will be too late——After having described a large circle over the field to gain altitude, they leave in groups, going northward——
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——
Douaumont is ours!——