The joystick was back in his left thigh and he unfastened his belt and twisted in his seat to get his right foot on the left side of the rudder, but it had no effect. A row of poplars appeared to leap upwards to meet him; he switched off the ignition with a lightning sweep of his hand, lifted the knee of his unwounded leg to his chin, folded his arms across his face and awaited the impact.
There was a splintering, rending crash, like a great tree in a forest falling on undergrowth. With the horror of fire upon him he clawed his way frantically out of the tangled wreck and half-rolled and half-crawled away from it. He seemed to be moving in a ghastly nightmare from which he could not awake. He became vaguely aware of the heat of a conflagration near him; it was the Camel, blazing furiously. Strange-looking soldiers were running towards him and he tore off his blood-stained goggles and stared at them, trying to grasp what had happened and what was happening.
Ì'm down,' he muttered to himself in a voice which he hardly recognised as his own. 'I'm down,' he said again, as if the sounds of the words would help him to understand.
The German soldiers were standing in a circle around him now, and he looked at them curiously. One of them stepped forward, Schweinhund flieger!' he grunted, and kicked him viciously in the side.
Biggles bit his lip at the pain. The man raised his heavy boot again, but there was a sudden authoritative word of command and he stepped back hastily. Biggles looked up to see an officer of about his own age, in a tight-fitting pale-grey uniform, regarding him compassionately. He noted the Pour-le-Merite Order at his throat, and the Iron Cross of the First Class below.
`So you have had bad luck,' he said, in English, with scarcely a trace of accent.
`Yes,' replied Biggles with an effort, forcing a smile and trying to get on his feet. 'And I am sorry it happened this morning.' 'Why?'
`Because I particularly wanted to see a raid this afternoon,' he answered.
`Yes? But there will be no raid this afternoon,' replied the German, smiling.
`Why not?'
The German laughed softly. 'An armistice was signed half an hour ago—but, of course, you didn't know.'
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