Whatever Boelcke Told Us Was Taken As

English Had Hit Upon A Splendid Joke. The Intended To Catch Me Or To Bring Me Down.

Everything Depends On Whether We Have For Opponents Those French Tricksters Or Those Daring Rascals, The English. I Prefer The English. Frequently Their Daring Can Only Be Described As Stupidity. In Their Eyes It May Be Pluck And Daring.

My Dear Excellency! I Have Not Gone To War To Collect Cheese And Eggs, But For Another Purpose.

Sometimes, However, The Gaelic Blood Asserts Itself. The Frenchmen Will Then Attack. But The French Attacking Spirit Is Like Bottled Lemonade. It Lacks Tenacity. The Englishmen, On The Other Hand, One Notices That They Are Of Germanic Blood. Sportsmen Easily Take To Flying, And Englishmen See In Flying Nothing But A Sport.

Of Course, With The Increasing Number Of Aeroplanes One Gains Increased Opportunities For Shooting Down One's Enemies, But At The Same Time, The Possibility Of Being Shot Down One's Self Increases.