I must tell you this in Archer’s own words.
“I was tugging at my machine, trying to haul it out of the mud, but everry jerrk I gave it I went deeperr in the mud myself. I rememberr how I wrenched on the front wheel, this way and that, so my headlight pointed every which way and I could see the waterr all around—as much as half a mile on both sides of me, I should think. Be-forre that I didn’t know how much of the country was flooded. I seemed to be in the middle of the ocean, as you might say, only in places there were little islands, like, where the water didn’t quite cover the fields. I knew I couldn’t get my machine out of the mud and I thought I’d be betterr off if I left it and waded over to one of those islands because the road I was on was underr waterr and was washing away, sorrt of.
“So I turrned my handle-barr so’s to throw the searrchlight around overr that flooded space and try to decide which way to go. I thought maybe I could get across it quickerr that way; and then run to the nearest town. All of a sudden, while I was throwing my light like that, I hearrd the buzz of an airrplane verry nearr and a very loud whistlin’ sound like this (he simulated a loud, shrill whistling) and then I hearrd a splash quite a long way off and then more splashing not so loud.
“I turrned my light in that direction and saw a big airrplane comin’ to a standstill in the waterr and the rain was pourin’ down off its planes just like a waterrfall. I thought it must be the flierr that brought down the Hun machine, and I thought he must be wrecked and was dead, maybe.
“Forr a minute I held my handle-barr so’s the light was right on the plane and then I had a good scarre, you can bet, forr I could see plain as day on the body of it and on the rudderr the black cross with a white borrderr like they have on Hun machines!”
The dramatic descent of this apparition through that tempestuous storm, and its clear outline as it stood focussed in the circle of brightness thrown by Archer’s headlight, must have been quite enough to disconcert him. For a moment, he says, he stood there trembling, the wind howling about him, the rain beating on his face, the heavy darkness shutting out everything save that meteor-like thing out of the troubled heavens.
Then a figure emerged from under its dripping plane and called to him. In the high wind he could not hear what this apparition said, the voice seeming thin and spent in contrast with the tumult, or, as Archer said, “as if it came from a ghost.” Then he caught the words “landing” and “guide.”
He was not greatly surprised at that, for it was not uncommon to find Germans speaking English. For a moment he hesitated, then, drawing his side arm, he stepped forward through the water, toward the strange visitor. Again the man spoke, but the wind was away from him and Archer could not hear what he said. He confessed that he was not accustomed to encounters with the enemy, but he knew what to do and called, “Hold up your hands if you surrenderr; if you don’t, I’ll shoot”; all the while wading through the flooded meadow.
“HOLD UP YOUR HANDS; IF YOU DON’T, I’LL SHOOT.”