Frederick Palmer,
My Year of the War
“ Is the sport of war dead? Not for Archibald! Here you see your target —which is so rare these days when British infantrymen have stormed and taken trenches without ever seeing a German—and the target is a bird, a man-bird. Puffs of smoke with bursting hearts of death are clustered around the Taube. One follows another in quick succession, for more than one Archibald is firing, before your entranced eye. ”
