supposed. An aeroplane may be hit many times without being disabled. Practical proof of that is furnished by the M.F. No. 123 biplane exhibited at the present moment by the French military authorities in the Cour d'Honneur of the Invalides. It bears over 400 wounds, inflicted on it without completely disabling it, at various times during five months' service at the front. They were made by rifle bullets, shrapnel, mitrailleuse balls, and splinters of shells fired from the earth. The pilot escaped miraculously unscathed, though on many occasions the projectiles buzzed around him like a swarm of bees.

The M.F. No. 123 was not, however, employed in fighting, but in scouting, exploring, and regulating the fire of artillery. It is not necessary to insist on the most eminent services the aeroplane has rendered, and continues to render, every day in the execution of such missions. They are so considerable that even the most sceptical of the French commanders, who at the beginning of the war doubted their utility, now declare "the avion is absolutely indispensable." The good work the Allies' aeroplanes have done has frequently received grateful recognition from the chiefs of the armies; and the official communiqué issued by the French Press Bureau on the 2nd March says among other things: "During the past ten days our troops have fought several successful engagements at various points on the front. In these, aero

planes have almost constantly taken part, thus once more showing the remarkable efficacy of their use for military purposes. Our aviators have brilliantly carried out the various tasks entrusted to them. In order to give an example of the methods and results, it is sufficient to point to the reconnoitring of twenty-one hostile batteries by a single aviator on 17th February, and the discovery on 18th February of a battery of heavy guns, which was immediately followed by effective firing on the part of our artillery, resulting in the blowing up of the battery's caissons. We may also recall the bombardment, carried out on 19th, 24th, and 25th February to hinder the traffic of hostile troops on a railway line, as well a8 the night flight which enabled one of our aviators to bombard the barracks at Metz. These are only a few episodes selected from many others. It is to be noted that during this period the enemy's aviators showed very little activity. The German aeroplanes, as soon as they were chased, flew back to their lines. The severe losses sustained by the German airmen in the preceding months seem to have made them more prudent. As for the Zeppelins, their action remains nil.”

If the avion renders such inestimable services on land, the hydro-aeroplane does equally good work at sea. During the attack of the Allied fleets on the Dardanelles hydroaeroplanes were able to regulate the fire of the British and

French war vessels against forts hidden from their view. Also, while the bombardment was proceeding, hydro - aeroplanes, navigating at the height of about 3300 feet, dropped incendiary bombs on the Turkish forts, and caused fire to break out in two of them. It may be regarded as certain that that the hydro- aeroplane will not be employed exclusively in the performance of similar work. Unless the Germans prudently recall their submarines into port, the aquatic artificial birds will also most surely be used as an instrument for their destruction. The submarine when navigating under the surface of the water cannot attack the hydro-aeroplane, whereas, in a calm sea, the aerial vessel can discover the submarine even when navigating at a considerable depth. In the case of clear water it can see it, and even in the turbid waters of the English Channel the submarine leaves a wake on the surface of the sea disclosing its whereabouts. In the case of the periscope being visible, the aerial artilleryman may be pretty sure of success, as he can descend, without any danger to

himself, as low over the vessel as he may think fit. On the other hand, if the submarine dives, it must reach a considerable depth before it can consider itself beyond the reach of the projectiles which may be dropped on it by the hydroaeroplane. Though it may be unwise under present circumstances to indicate the exact nature of those projectiles, it is not difficult to understand that it is quite possible to invent missiles which, dropped from no great height, would nevertheless penetrate through the water with sufficient force to break through the shell of a submarine navigating at the depth of 10 metres (32 feet). In this connection it may be mentioned that in many places, the English Channel for instance, the water is too shallow to permit a submarine to navigate with the upper part of its shell much lower than 32 feet 10 inches below the surface of the water. Moreover, as the commander of a submarine frequently requires the aid of his periscope, he rarely navigates low under the surface of the water, whatever be its depth.

21

VOL. CXCVII.—NO. MCXCIV.

UNDER this designation it is convenient to lump the whole heavenly host which at present orders our goings and shapes our ends. It includes (1) The War Office; (2) The Treasury; (3) The

Army Ordnance Office;

(4) Our Divisional Office; -and other more local and immediate homes of mystery.

The Olympus which controls the destinies of "K(i)" differs in many respects from the Olympus of antiquity, but its celestial inhabitants appear to have at least two points in common with the original body —namely, a childish delight in upsetting one another's arrangements, and an untimely sense of humour when dealing with mortals.

So far as our researches have gone, we have been able to classify Olympus, roughly, into three departments

(1) Round Game Department (including Dockets, Indents, and all official correspondence). (2) Fairy Godmother Department.

(3) Practical Joke Depart

ment.

The outstanding feature of the Round Game Department is its oraving for irrelevant information and its passion for detail. "Open your hearts to

us," say the officials of the Department; "unburden your souls; keep nothing from us— and you will find us most accommodating. But stand on your dignity; decline to particularise; hold back one irrelevant detail-and it will go hard with you! Listen, and we will explain the rules of the game. Think of something you want immediately-say the command of a brigade, or a couple of washers for the lock of a machine-gun-and apply to us. The application must be made in writing, upon the Army Form provided for the purpose, and in triplicate. And you must put in all the details you can possibly think of."

For instance, in the case of the machine-gun washersby the way, in applying for them, you must call them Gun, Machine, Light Vickers, Washers for lock of, two. That is the way we always talk at the Ordnance Office. An Ordnance officer refers to his wife's mother as Law, Mother-in-, one-you should state when the old washers were lost, and by whom; also why they were lost, and where they are now. Then write a short history of the machinegun from which they were lost, giving date and place of birth, together with a statement of

The game then proceeds on simple and automatic lines. If your application is referred back to you not more than five times, and if you get your washers within three months of the date of application, you are the winner. If you get something else instead-say an aeroplane, or a hundred washhand basins-it is a draw. But the chances are that you lose.

Consider. By the rules of the game, if Olympus can think of a single detail which has not been thought of by you-for instance, if you omit to mention that the lost washers were circular in shape and had holes through the middleyou are ipso facto disqualified, under Rule One. Rule Two, also, is liable to trip you up. Possibly you may have written the pack-mule's name in small block capitals, instead of ordinary italics underlined in red ink, or put the date in Roman figures instead of Arabic numerals. If you do this, your application is referred back to you, and you lose a life. And even if you survive Rules One and Two, Rule Three will probably get you in the end. Un der its provision your application must be framed in such language and addressed in

through every department and sub-department of Olympus before it reaches the right one. The rule has its origin in the principle which governs the passing of wine at well-regulated British dinner - tables. That is, if you wish to offer a glass of port to your neighbour on your right, you hand the decanter to the neighbour on your left, so that the original object of your hospitality receives it, probably empty, only after a complete circuit of the table. In the present instance, the gentleman upon your right is the President of the Washer Department, situated somewhere in the Army Ordnance Office, the remaining guests representing the other centres of Olympian activity. For every department your application misses, you lose a life, three lost lives amounting to disqualification.

When the washers are issued, however, the port-wine rule is abandoned; and the washers are despatched to you, in defiance of all the laws of superstition and tradition, "widdershins," or counter-clockwise. No wonder articles thus jeopardised often fail to reach their destination!

Your last fence comes when you receive a document from Olympus announcing that your washers are now prepared for you, and that if you will sign and return the enclosed receipt they will be sent off upon their last journey. You are now in the the worst dilemma of all. Olympus will not disgorge your washers until it has your

receipt. On the other hand, if you send the receipt, Olympus can always win the game by losing the washers, and saying that you have got them. In the face of your own receipt you cannot very well deny this. So you lose your washers, and the game, and are also made liable for the misappropriation of two washers, for which Olympus holds your receipt. Truly, the gods play with loaded dice.

On the whole, the simplest (and almost universal) plan is to convey a couple of washers from some one else's gun.

The game just described is played chiefly by officers; but this is a democratic age, and the rank and file are now occasionally permitted to take part.

For example, boots. Private M'Splae is the possessor, we will say, of a pair of flat feet, or arched insteps, or other military incommodities, and his regulation boots do not fit him. More than that, they hurt him exceedingly, and as he is compelled to wear them through daily marches of several miles, they gradually wear a hole in his heel, or a groove in his instep, or a gathering on his great toe. So he makes the first move in the game, and reports sick-"sair feet."

The Medical Officer, a terribly efficient individual, keenly -sometimes too keenly-alert for signs of malingering, takes a cursory glance at M'Splae's feet, and directs the patient's attention to the healing properties of soap and water.

M'Splae departs, grumbling, and reappears on sick parade a few days later, palpably worse. This time, the M.O. being a little less pressed with work, M'Splae is given a dressing for his feet, coupled with a recommendation to procure a new pair of boots without delay. If M'Splae is a novice in regimental diplomacy, he will thereupon address himself to his platoon sergeant, who will consign him, eloquently, to a destination where only boots with asbestos soles will be of any use. If he is an old hand, he will simply cut his next parade, and will thus, rather ingeniously, obtain access to his company commander, being brought up before him at orderly room next morning as a defaulter. To his captain he explains, with simple dignity, that he absented himself from parade because he found himself unable to "rise up" from his bed. He then endeavours, by hurriedly unlacing his boots, to produce his feet as evidence; but is frustrated, and awarded three extra fatigues for not formally reporting himself sick to the orderly sergeant. The real point at issue, namely, the unsuitability of M'Splae's boots, again escapes attention.

There the matter rests until, a few days later, M'Splae falls out on a long regimental routemarch, and hobbles home, chaperoned by a not-ungrateful lance-corporal, in a state of semi-collapse. This time the M.O. reports to the captain that Private M'Splae will be unfit for further duty until