Finally, here is something different! No more babysitting jobs for Gaston. The two-seaters have transferred out of the unit at noon. Escadrille N37 is now purely a scouting outfit and the first orders are to fly near Thiaucourt aerodrome on a CAS mission above the enemy troop camp. The clouds rolled in over the target providing cover for all enemy scouts. Gaston was already used to empty skies when he finally noticed some spots in the skies that could be a flight of enemy machines. They have flown into a clearing surrounded on all sides by a wall of clouds, like a giant gladiatorial arena with Flak explosions going off like fireworks. The enemy came from the north, most likely an uneventful patrol. Gaston gave the signal to attack and turned toward his foes. There were three of them, that would make it one a piece for him, Frougier and Vouillermoz. Each of them picked a target. Voscadeaux selected the leader and fired a few shots as they were passing each other. He was sprayed with rain as he flew through a small cloud and lost his target from view. Gaston banked hard and his Pig stalled. His plane dropped some altitude but he recovered. He was now looking for his opponent, but could only see towering clouds. Then a flash of light, a glint on the Fokker wings betrayed his location. Gaston followed and closed the distance. He fired and the Eindecker went into a spin. Gaston suspected a ruse and kept close by. The sly German levelled his scout and continued in the direction of the airfield below. Voscadeaux dove on him and fired a long burst, then another. The Fokker lurched then spun again. Gaston kept his eye on the Boche expecting another trick, but the monoplane continued to spin further down, until he hit the ground with so much force that the mud he had hit splashed in all directions like a big cloud of dust. Gaston looked around for his wingmen, but couldn’t see anyone. He decided to turn back, hoping that the other two pilots have done the same and they all will meet up over the aerodrome. Gaston put in a claim hoping against all odds that les Poilus in the nearby trenches could corroborate his story.
"Take the cylinder out of my kidneys, The connecting rod out of my brain, my brain, From out of my arse take the camshaft, And assemble the engine again."