Fullofit, Gaston has discovered what so many WWI pilots have, that it can be damned tricky to sort out exactly where you are and actually find your intended targets thousands of feet below you. I've no doubt though that he'll get the hang of it, he seems a persistent fellow.
Scout, it sounds like Aleck's bombing mission was fairly typical in terms of its results. Getting the eggs close to the mark was about all anyone hoped for, and the explosions tended to cause more jangled nerves than anything else.
2nd Lt. Swanson had more bad luck in terms of engine reliability as he attempted, not once but twice, to complete his assigned sorties today. Both times the Le Rhône left him and his gunner/obs floating back to earth sans power. As most of the lads in camp knew of his Channel crossing incident, as well as his numerous engine failures while at Netheravon, (primarily because he himself had talked about it with individuals in camp), they ribbed him with assorted new nicknames. "Conk" and "Dead Stick" were bandied about a fair amount, but the one that has stuck is the moniker hung on him by his own flight mate, Lt. Dent. When the fellow walked into the mess this afternoon and spied Swany sitting at a far table, sipping at a cup of tea and reading a two-week old newspaper, the cheeky bugger called out, "Well if it isn't our own Lieutenant Swansong! There he is boys, if you want the engine in your bus to sing its last, just leave it in his capable hands." Given the roar of laughter that followed, Swany knew instantly he would be saddled with the handle for the foreseeable future.