Mac and I kept on and up to ten o'clock were circling around the region of Ham, watching out for the heavier machines doing reconnoitring work below us. We went higher than a thousand meters during that time. About ten, for some reason or other of his own, Mac suddenly headed into the German lines toward Saint Quentin and I naturally followed close to his rear and above him. Perhaps he wanted to make observations around Saint Quentin. At any rate, we had gotten north of Ham and quite inside the hostile lines, when I saw two boche machines crossing towards us from the region of Saint Quentin at an altitude quite higher than ours. We were then about 1,600 meters. I supposed Mac saw them the same as I did. One boche was much farther ahead than the other, and was headed as if he would dive at any moment on Mac. I glanced ahead at Mac and saw what direction he was taking, and then pulled back to climb up as quickly as possible to gain an advantageous height over the nearest boche. It was cloudy and misty and I had to keep my eyes on him all the time, so naturally I couldn't watch Mac. The second boche was still much farther off than his mate. By this time I had gotten to 2,200, the boche was almost up to me and taking a diagonal course right in front. He started to circle and his gunner--it was a biplane, probably an Albatross, although the mist was too thick and dark for me to see much but the bare outline of his dirty, dark green body, with white and black crosses--opened fire before I did and his first volley did some damage. One bullet cut the left central support of my upper wing in half, an explosive bullet cut in half the left guiding rod of the left aileron, and I was momentarily stunned by part of it which dug a nasty gouge into my left cheek. I had already opened fire and was driving straight for the boche with teeth set and my hand gripping the triggers making a veritable stream of fire spitting out of my gun at him, as I had incendiary bullets, it being my job lately to chase after observation balloons, and on Saturday morning I had also been up after the reported Zeppelins. I had to keep turning toward the boche every second, as he was circling around towards me and I was on the inside of the circle, so his gunner had all the advantage over me. I thought I had him on fire for one instant as I saw--or supposed I did--flames on his fuselage. Everything passed in a few seconds and we swung past each other in opposite directions at scarcely twenty-five meters from each other--the boche beating off towards the north and I immediately dived down in the opposite direction wondering every second whether the broken wing support would hold together or not and feeling weak and stunned from the hole in my face. A battery opened a heavy fire on me as I went down, the shells breaking just behind me. I straightened out over Ham at a thousand meters, and began to circle around to look for Mac or the other boche, but saw absolutely nothing the entire fifteen minutes I stayed there. I was fearful every minute that my whole top wing would come off, and I thought that possibly Mac had gotten around toward the west over our lines, missed me, and was already on his way back to camp. So I finally turned back for our camp, having to fly very low and against a strong northern wind, on account of low clouds just forming. I got back at a quarter to eleven and my first question to my mechanic was: "Has McConnell returned?"
He hadn't, Paul, and no news of any sort have we had of him yet, although we hoped and prayed every hour yesterday for some word to come in. The one hope that we have is that on account of this continued advance some news will be brought in of Mac through civilians who might have witnessed his flight over the lines north of Ham, while they were still in the hands of the enemy, for many of the civilians in the villages around there are being left by the Germans as they retire. We can likewise hope that Mac was merely forced to land inside the enemy lines on account of a badly damaged machine, or a bad wound, and is well but a prisoner. I wish to God, Paul, that I had been able to see Mac during his combat, or had been able to get down to him sooner and help him. The mists were thick, and consequently seeing far was difficult. I would have gone out that afternoon to look for him but my machine was so damaged it took until yesterday afternoon to be repaired. Lieut. de Laage and Lufbery did go out with their Spads and looked all around the region north of Ham towards Saint Quentin but saw nothing at all of a Nieuport on the ground, or anything else to give news of what had occurred.
The French are still not far enough towards Saint Quentin to be on the territory where the chances are Mac landed, so we'll still have to wait for to-day's developments for any possibility of news. I got lots of hope, Paul, that Mac is at least alive although undoubtedly a prisoner. I know how badly the news has affected you. We're all feeling mighty blue over it and as for myself--I'm feeling utterly miserable over the whole affair. Just as soon as any definite news comes in I'll surely let you know at once. Meanwhile, keep cheered and hopeful. There's no use in losing hope yet. If a prisoner Mac may even be able to escape and return to our lines, on account of the very unsettled state of the retreating Germans. Others have done so under much less favorable conditions.
I hope you are having a very enjoyable trip through the South. Walter showed me the postal you wrote him, which he received yesterday. Please give my very warm regards to your wife. Write as soon as you can, too.
Very faithfully yours,
EDMOND C. C. GENET.
March 22, 1917.
MY DEAR ROCKWELL:
Still no news about Jim. Last night the captain sent out a request to the military authorities to have our troops advancing in the direction of Saint Quentin report immediately any particulars about avion 2055. Even now I cannot reconcile myself concerning Jim's fate. I hope he has been made prisoner.
Just a few words about myself. I am awaiting the results of my friends' actions in the States on my behalf. I am placed in a peculiar position in the escadrille. I have nothing to do here. Shall I take care of Jim's belongings?