On a Bright Summer’s Day (1)
This is the story of Lt LC Gilmour, who accepted a commission in the 
Canadian infantry and was attached to the RAF. He was posted to 208 Squadron and was captured on July 31st 1918. He recounts here the story of his capture and the aftermath. The picture is pretty poor but it is the only one we have, so here it is .…
On the
morning of July 31st I had just finished a tasty breakfast consisting of Shredded Wheat, biscuits with cream, fried ham and eggs, marmalade, buttered toast and coffee when my flight commander told us to jump into our machines as there happened to be a little excitement over the lines. I had my slacks on at the time, but rather than keep the rest waiting, I pulled my long flying boots over these, put on my leather coat, climbed into my machine, and "suck in" "contact" a wave of the hand and opening of the throttle and fine adjustment and we were off.
It was a beautiful sunny morning, but unfortunately no clouds, 
which later would have proved invaluable to me. We were over the lines at between 10,000 & 12,000 feet and had patrolled from Bethune to a distance somewhat South of Lens. We had been out about one hour and a quarter and although quite a way East so far had encountered no Huns. We were going directly South and East of Lens when the flight turned completely around to the right going then straight North. I was flying on the outside right and this complete change of direction left me a little behind. I put my nose down to regain my position, at the same time I spotted three machines flying above and across my flight commanders nose bound Southeast. At first I mistook them for Bristols and before I could decide exactly what they were, two of them turned nose on for me at the same time opening fire. I could see plainly the long swish of smoke left in the trail of the fast approaching bullets, at the same time the two machines were gaining on me. I did my best by climbing, turning in different directions to out-manoeuvre them, but unfortunately they seemed to have me at a sad disadvantage. To make things worse 
the rest of my flight did not seem to realise the position I was in for the last I saw of them they were flying peacefully along due North. When I fully realised I could not escape the two machines, I turned my nose to the right intending to zoom and fire a burst, but before I had finished my turn, a burst from the enemy guns caught my petrol tank. I was immediately flooded in petrol, it even got in behind my goggles and for a few seconds I could not see. After I saw my pressure tank was gone I turned on to gravity. My engine sputtered a little, but did not pick up. The one burst had done in both my tanks.
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