Mr. Davis left today, returning to London with his synchronizer contraption packed back in it's shipping crate. He never got the ting working reliably but he insists that the exercise was useful and the difficulties here will result in modifications to the factory version that will solve the temperature sensitivity problems. Our Bristol pilots were all disappointed to see him called back to the factory, as every one had hoped to be the first to make a success of the thing in combat. Buckminster even suggested that the gizmo be left here and they (with my help and the help of the chief mechanic apparently) would continue to play with it and report back with progress. But Davis' orders were quite clear, and I could see the logic of not having our newest secret weapon in the hands of a bunch pilots that might well land the thing in enemy hands.
Davis couldn't have picked a better day to head home ... glorious sunshine has finally returned after days of snow and wind. Chris and I had an artillery spotting mission in the mid-morning, and the sky was filled with aircraft (well, we saw about five which is quite unusual). At one point we were startled by a lone Aviatik lumbering right across our path. It quite startled us, but the enemy machine made no threatening maneuvers and in fact we could see the pilot throw a cheery wave in our direct as they passed, as if to say "wonderful day for a fly, eh chaps?" There was nothing much for us to do in response so Chris and I both waved back, and so did Norton and his observer, all four of us in unison as if of a single sun-addled mind. Quite funny actually.
Addendum, February 27: An uneventful recon mission over the Ypres salient. Another beautiful but cold day of flying.