"How?" asked the lieutenant, as he leaned forward.
"Why, the rain would come down at an angle, if the wind should be blowing, wouldn't it?" replied Alfred.
"Quite true, that would be the case on the earth; but it would not be so up where the raindrops are being formed; there the little particles of water move along with the wind stream; but that is not all; when you are in a machine in a great wind movement, the ship must move through the wind in one direction or the other at all times so as to keep aloft, hence, whether you are going with or against the wind, the rain drops appear to be coming down at an angle, and this, in itself wouldbe sufficient to deceive you, or, at any rate prevent you from determining the direction in which you happened to be sailing."
"How did you get down?" asked Alfred.
"That was the interesting part of it. After a half hour more of flying I again ordered the assistant to go down two hundred meters. It was now evident that the storm was abating. Soon we again passed out of the rain clouds, and the assistant shouted that he had reached the level indicated. 'Go lower,' I shouted. As we did so it grew lighter, and we began to feel a relief. 'Lower yet,' I ordered. At 600 meters the rain poured steadily, but still nothing was visible."
"You were up then about a half a mile," said Ralph.
"Just about that," was the reply. "Soon we noticed a peculiar white patch, and then another. This was puzzle to me. 'Go still lower,' I shouted, and down went the machine. Then we saw some white houses, and I almost shouted for joy. But where could we be? We were passing over a city, a city located within the bend of a large river. I racked my brain to find out where and what it could be. If it was the river Meuse it might be Verdun, or Sedan, or Charleville. We were forced to go down still lower, and then I could see forts, and I felt sure we were over Sedan.
"We were even then going east. I was so agitated that I could hardly speak, and motioned to my assistant to turn around. He understood, andthe ship was swung around; we were now going right into the blinding rain, but we were fifty miles behind the German advance columns, and in order to enable us to make more rapid progress I told the assistant to change the course nearly due south. We were flying very low, certainly not over a thousand feet.
"Thus far we had not seen a soldier, or any evidences of warfare. In a half hour we sighted another stream. My heart leaped with joy, for I was sure it must be the Aisne. To assure myself of this we followed the stream for twenty kilometers, and then the forests of Argonne came into sight, thus assuring me of the position. I knew that the army of the Crown Prince was in that region, and it would not be safe to descend; I, therefore, directed the machine to the west, crossed the river, and was about to go still lower, when I heard a boom,—several of them.
"This startled me, you may be sure. 'Up, up!' I shouted. The machine obeyed. We rose to an altitude of eight hundred meters, then suddenly the engine stopped. My assistant turned and shouted: 'We have no petrol.' I crawled back and tested the tank. It was empty. 'Volplane to the south,' I said. It was the only thing I could do. Now that the engine was silent the sounds from the earth were startling. There was terrific firing to the right and left, and all about us; but we must go down; there was no help for that.
"Soon the earth again came in sight, and then the location of the batteries was made out by thevolumes of smoke, which could be seen at each volley. My assistant tried to hold up the machine as long as possible, but we were now down to 300 meters, then the barometer registered 250. We both noticed a large, apparently smooth field, and the final volplane began. We landed a hundred feet from a first-line trench, and although the Germans made it hot for us for about fifteen minutes we were soon able to reach the laterals and thus escape their fire. But the machine was in a bad condition when we rescued it that night. It was literally shot full of holes. What is left of it is now in the end warehouse where the scraps are kept."
Early the following morning there was intense activity in the camp, and Ralph was among the first to learn the cause of the excitement. Several army divisions had come up in the night, and were bound for the Verdun sector, and from the information obtained it was the intention of the commander to make a terrific assault in order to break the German lines north of the city.
The lieutenant, when approached, admitted that they were now in for double duty. "Every man in the corps must report and be ready in the morning. There will be two days of observation, and then look out for some business."
"When will we go to Verdun?" asked Ralph.
"We are expecting orders at any moment," was the reply.
During the previous afternoon more than fifty machines had assembled, and some of those were now leaving, a few going directly east, on observation tours, while others were circling about and testing the engines.
"I am expecting a big Farman machine," saidLieutenant Guyon, as he returned from headquarters an hour afterwards, "that is equipped for carrying bombs, but I am told it is one of the speediest machines in the service. It will easily carry six hundred kilos in bombs (1,200 pounds), and we are ordered to wait here until it arrives."
When the boys were alone, Alfred, with a glint of joy in his eyes, remarked: "I think that will give us an opportunity to do some flying with the lieutenant."
"Do you think so?" replied Ralph, elated at the thought.
"I am sure of that," said a voice behind them.
They quickly turned and saw the lieutenant, who had entered unobserved. They saw by the smile on his face that the remark was an agreeable one, for he continued:
"Yes, and the machine is now here; the men are at work setting it up; so we might as well go over and help out."
A second invitation was not necessary. Ralph, who was outside in one bound, rushed across the field, but Alfred accompanied the lieutenant to the commandant's office, where they were provided with the receipt for the machine. The lieutenant remained here while Alfred carried the document to the warehouse. Within two hours the machine was in condition to receive the fuel and the supplies usually carried in the machines for emergencies.
When the lieutenant returned he made a careful inspection, and on this occasion the boys followedevery movement of his to learn what were the essential requirements in inspecting. Naturally, the most important thing was to know that every part of the frame is not only properly set up and the wires made taut, but that the fastenings, the turnbuckles, are in good condition. That necessitated a minute examination of every one of them.
Then the planes were sighted to ascertain whether they were properly aligned. Sometimes when the planes are not exactly parallel with each other, the end of one, for instance, being set a little higher or lower than the other, it is usually corrected by letting out one or more sets of brace wires and taking up on others. This observation was followed by a careful look at the control planes. These are the sensitive parts of the plane, and may be likened to feelers, for the slightest warping of the horizontal tail planes will frequently cause the machine to fly with a skidding motion, not dangerous, but exceedingly uncomfortable when flying at a high rate of speed.
"The wires leading to the control levers are always a source of worry to me," remarked the lieutenant, and he drew himself up into the rear part of the chassis. "You will notice that this one rubs along the side of that brace. I could not permit that," he said, as he glanced toward one of the workers.
"Do you think it would weaken the brace?" asked Ralph.
"No, it's not that," replied the lieutenant."The difficulty is that all these wires are stranded, and as soon as one of the wires wears out by the frictional contact, another will give way, and the control wire is liable to part at the most critical time."
The boys had occasion to remember the lieutenant's warning shortly thereafter. After an examination of the airplane structure an investigation was made of the engine. The mechanic turned it over to be sure that the compression was all right. Self-starters are provided on all these machines, as the French learned at an early day that it would be unwise to depend on cranking.
Then a thorough inspection of the pipes and tubing for the fuel and lubrication was made. The dashboard of an aeroplane is a much more wonderful contrivance than the dashboard of an automobile. The aviator must look out for several things not necessary when traveling on land.
The machine which they were examining had on it the most improved contrivances, which had been found desirable, some of which were entirely new to the boys, one of them being the inclinometer.
"That must be a dandy thing," said Alfred, pointing to it.
"I think there are only a few of the military machines which are supplied with them, but the order has been given to put them on all the new machines," said the lieutenant.
"What are the two rods for?" asked Ralph, as he looked at the inclinometer.
Fig. 6. INSTRUMENT BOARD OF STANDARD AIRPLANE.Fig. 6. INSTRUMENT BOARD OF STANDARD AIRPLANE.1. Control Lever, with thumb switch. 2. Watch. 3. Altimeter, for registering height. 4. Compass. 5. Pressure Gages for two gasoline tanks 6. Dial to register engine revolutions. 7. Switches for two magnetos. 8. Air Speed indicator. 9. Clinometer. 10. Oil Pulsator. 11. Gasoline supply system. 12. Engine crank and fly-wheel.
"The two rods which swing past the verticalbar, on which you see the numbers, indicate the angle at which the machine is going. All that is necessary is to observe the crossing point of the rod over the marked bar, and it will instantly tell what the angle of ascent or descent is. You see an aviator now has so many things to think of that he must have devices of various kinds which will constantly tell him anything or any condition without asking for it."
"Why, this also tells how fast the engine turns," remarked Alfred.
"Of what use is that?" asked Ralph.
"Well; if you knew that the engine was capable, under full throttle, to make eighteen hundred revolutions a minute, and the dial showed that the shaft was turning only one thousand, you would quickly get the idea that something was wrong," answered the lieutenant.
"Oh, yes; and then you would start to make an investigation at once without waiting for the engine to stop," said Alfred.
"Exactly; it is there as a warning, just as a headache is a warning that something is wrong, or a pain, which is nature's way to indicate that an investigation should be made without delay," answered the lieutenant with a nod.
Besides the foregoing, the dash had on it a watch. Now, a watch may be a convenient thing to have on an automobile, but it is not a necessity. On a scouting and observation plane it is one of the necessary implements. Alfred laughed, as he looked at the neat little clock face.
"I suppose," he said, "we could get along without that."
"Of course we could," answered the lieutenant. "But why get along without it when we now find it such a necessary element?"
"Necessary how?" asked Ralph, in surprise.
"In determining distances, for one thing," answered the lieutenant.
"A watch to tell the distance?" asked Alfred incredulously.
"Yes, indeed," responded the lieutenant. "If you saw a puff of smoke in the distance, and shortly thereafter heard a boom, the distance could be determined almost instantaneously by roughly calculating 1,200 feet for every second. You see, the clock there has a second hand, which is very plain, for that very purpose."
"But suppose there is a regular battle on, it would be hard to tell about the boom from any particular gun, wouldn't it?" asked Ralph.
"Quite true; in such a case it would be useless for that purpose. Another use is in signaling," continued the lieutenant. "For instance, in sending information to a battery, arrangement is sometimes made to flash the distance by means of second intervals."
"How is that done?" asked Alfred, now growing intensely interested in the details of the dashboard mechanism.
"It is an easy matter to signal numbers," answered the lieutenant and a favorite plan is to fly over the area where the enemy's battery is located,then flash at that altitude. The gunner will take the angle, set his piece and fire, the aviator, meanwhile, noting the course and effect of the shot. By means of the watch he can determine the distance, counting either by the time of flight of the missile, or by the elapsed time between the flash of the gun and the landing of the shot.
The altimeter is another very important part of the equipment. It is a device which tells at a glance how high the machine is flying, and Ralph looked at it with a somewhat doubtful expression. The lieutenant saw the questioning lines on his face, and instantly divined the reason.
"You are in doubt whether the altimeter can be relied on? Am I correct?" he asked.
"Well, I suppose it is all right, but almost every time we have been up and took the readings, we found we were actually hundreds of feet less than the altimeter actually showed, so I am wondering if it is possible really to tell the exact height by that apparatus," remarked Alfred.
"Yes, I understand what you mean," replied the lieutenant. "The other day, when we made the long flight from Bar-le-Duc, the device we had showed 900 meters, for it was an automatically registering barometer, as all of them practically are. When we returned I noted on the report book 872 meters. Did you notice that?"
"Yes, and I wondered at it at the time," said Alfred.
"I knew that the general altitude of the country at that place, as indicated by the topographicalcharts, was 28 meters above sea level so I merely subtracted 28 from 900, and that showed how far up above the land we really were," said the lieutenant.
"Of course, it's a satisfaction to know how high one is flying," said Ralph.
"It is not only a satisfaction, but it is an absolute necessity for an aviator to know how high he is flying, if his mission is to convey any information to the batteries in the rear," said the lieutenant.
"And how is that done?" asked Alfred.
"By a system of triangulation," he replied. "In a few days we may have an opportunity to use the system, and I will explain it then so you can quickly grasp the subject."
The air speed indicator was another interesting device, but at that the lieutenant shook his head as though doubting its general value.
"Don't you think it's accurate?" inquired Alfred of the officer.
"Oh, yes; it is as accurate as it can be made. In fact all devices, which are used to indicate the speed of the wind, are nearly perfect. That is not the difficulty. When it is used on a flying machine several new things enter into the problem, which makes it difficult for the instrument to be truthful."
"What is the main trouble?" asked Alfred.
"Well, suppose we are starting a flight against a wind, which is moving at the rate of, say, ten miles an hour," answered the lieutenant. "Whilein flight we note that, going against the wind, the air speed is sixty miles. Now, if we happened to stop suddenly so we were poised in the air, the indicator would show the air speed to be ten miles, so that we were really going only fifty miles. If, now, the machine is turned so that we are going at right angles to the movement of the wind, although we may be going actually through the air at a speed of seventy miles an hour, the indicator does not register the air speed at all, because it is in such a position that the air does not affect it and the only indication we have is the speed of the air relative to the movement of the machine,—or, to put it in a better way, I might say that the instrument only registers, in reality, the speed at which the aeroplane goes through the air, and no more."
"But is that the only way to tell how fast we are going?" asked Ralph.
"The best test is to take the engine revolutions. A certain machine after it has been properly tested in a calm, and also in wind currents of different velocities, will show a record of speed with the engine running at certain revolutions. An experienced aviator can judge pretty well, by experience, what the speed of the wind is, and, knowing the propeller speed, and the direction he is going relative to the wind, he can make a fair estimate of the speed of the machine."
It was with feelings of joy that the boys stepped out of their tent the following morning to learn that the lieutenant had decided on a trial spin in the forenoon, preparatory to the real start, which was to take place at two in the afternoon. The engine was turned over, and the machine held down while the usual hour's running test was going on. Everything seemed to be in order, the engine was stopped and another inspection made when the lieutenant gave the order to mount the machine.
In this type of military machine the swivel gun is at the extreme forward end, and the pilot directly behind the gunner, and at a slight elevation above the gun. Both gunner and pilot are housed in, and in most cases strapped to the body of the machine to prevent any accidental falling out, as there have been numerous accidents due to men being thrown from their perches.
The boys found ample room in the forward pit, and at a word the machine was released and glided forward. The new machine gave them a sensationdifferent from the former one, as it appeared to ride more easily and steadily. In fact, there is just the same difference in the motion of flying machines as there is in autos, some, the small machines, seeming to glide over the ground and impart every bump to the occupants, as might be expected of a light machine.
A heavy flying machine, however, seems to move along with the utmost ease, and does not sway from side to side when sailing through cross currents. Naturally, such a machine is a more stable base for machine guns as well as for observation.
Alfred's particular hobby was kodaking. On this occasion, the first time he had an opportunity, he prepared himself with a camera. The lieutenant, learning of Alfred's penchant in this direction, had a regulation government instrument sent over, and attached to the machine, to Alfred's surprise.
Before starting out, the lieutenant said: "I want to give you some points now, in using the camera. Photographs, in order to have any military value, must be identified,—that is, they must be made at such altitudes, and with reference to certain marked characteristics on the earth, that we may be able to place them on the topographical maps of the particular section, and thus verify them day after day."
"What do you mean by verifying them day after day?" asked Alfred.
"I mean by that to see what changes have takenplace in the same view between the taking of the two pictures," replied the officer.
"Well, what possible changes could take place in a day or two?" asked Ralph in astonishment.
"A great many, and very important ones, too," answered the lieutenant. "The camera sees what the eye does not notice. If a picture is taken of a certain section today, and the following day another picture is snapped, a comparison of the two will show whether or not there has been a movement of troops, or, whether or not a certain undistinguishable object was something movable, or not."
"Is that the way the map of the enemy's country is made up?" asked Alfred.
"Yes, and every detail is noted, so that when you commence the work be careful to notice something which will distinguish the exact place where you are located; also put down the direction of the flight over that same area, and the altitude at which we are flying."
As the machine glided over the treetops and the village on the northern border of the Meuse, the sun shone out with intense brilliancy. They were going directly east, and both boys turned toward the lieutenant, their eyes seeming to say: "So you are going to take a peep at the front, by way of experiment?" which was exactly what the lieutenant purposed doing.
The altimeter now registered 1800 meters, considerably over a mile high. From that point they could see to Verdun, and thirty miles east of Verdun,could be noted the blurred outlines and surroundings of Metz, that greatest of all fortified German defences. On they went for nearly three-quarters of an hour until a stream of some magnitude appeared to the east, which they soon crossed.
They afterwards learned that this was the Mosel, which flows through Metz. The latter city now loomed up so it could be plainly seen, and to their right was another town, Nancy, a fortified French place. They were about midway between the two places.
Suddenly an aeroplane appeared to the right, and the lieutenant turned the machine in that direction. The boys were relieved to see the great circle on the control planes of the machine in the distance, which showed them it was a French reconnoitering airplane. In the east several other machines were noticed hovering about, and the lieutenant at first headed directly for them, but he soon turned to the north.
Below were seen numerous flashes of guns, and they knew from this that the fighting lines must be along the river. The most startling thing which occurred was a tremendous explosion that seemed to be right in the machine itself, and they looked around startled at the suddenness of it, for everything seemed peaceful enough to them at that altitude.
The lieutenant turned the machine, however, as he apprehended more trouble, now that the gunners below had so luckily secured a fair range. The first shot was followed in another moment byanother, and the lieutenant now began to dart the machine back and forth, and turn it in short, sharp circles.
Another explosion took place, this time remarkably close, and pieces of the flying machine came down, and brushed past the boys. The lieutenant shook his head, as the boys glanced back. The machine was now circling around, a peculiar manoeuver, the boys thought, as they looked at each other for a possible explanation.
Ralph looked back, and noticed that the lieutenant, with an alarmed look on his face, was constantly glancing back to the tail planes. The steering lever seemed to be jammed. Ralph had an idea that something was wrong, and crawled over the body until he was alongside of the lieutenant. The latter pointed to the control lever, and Ralph understood.
Without waiting for instructions from the lieutenant, he cautiously made his way along the chassis, following up the wires which were indicated by the lieutenant. Within four feet of the tail plane Ralph halted. Then, reaching down, he succeeded in grasping a dangling wire, and held up the end for the lieutenant's inspection. After several attempts he found the other end of the wire, which had been severed by a shot from a shrapnel shell.
The ship was still circling around, so without waiting to repair the break Ralph turned the rudder, and, glancing at the lieutenant, saw the latter smile, and then by motions direct him to give the control plane a still further push in the right direction.It was impossible for Ralph to hear anything the lieutenant said, but as soon as the airplane was fairly headed for the west, the power was shut off, and the machine began to descend.
"Good boy!" shouted the lieutenant. "Can you fasten them together?" he asked.
"I am afraid not," replied Ralph. "A piece seems to have been shot away. But I can take care of it if you will only direct me to pull it to the right or to the left."
"All right, then. Do you see that great patch of green, directly beyond the castle?" asked the lieutenant.
"I can see it plainly," replied Ralph. "Shall I steer for it?" he asked.
"Oh, no. We must come up from the south. Note the direction of the wind from the smoke. Make a long sweep. We are now at an altitude of 1200 meters. We can volplane twelve kilometers from this height," remarked the lieutenant.
The turn was made to the south in a long sweep, Ralph continually glancing forward to note the direction indicated by the lieutenant.
"Now straight ahead, and hold steady."
They were now rapidly approaching the earth; the machine gliding over the tops of the trees at the border of the forest that ran along the river bank. To their right, across the river, was a large town, Pont-a-Mousson, and the castle ahead of them was a large school, from which even then hundreds of children were emerging, and excitedly rushing toward the approaching machine.
Down went the machine at a sharper angle; then, when close to the earth, the rear control was sharply turned, and the nose of the ship raised up, but for an instant only, when the machine settled down, and, after running along a hundred feet, stopped.
The agitated children pressed about, and the lieutenant tried in vain to keep them off. Some more venturesome than others, after seeing Ralph and Alfred, began to question them. To the relief of the boys they learned that the French out-posts were less than a mile distant.
"Let us make the repairs as rapidly as possible," said the lieutenant.
An examination showed that not only was the control wire cut in two places, but the vertical plane had its pivot shot away, thus accounting for the peculiar action of the lever, which seemed to jam whenever an attempt was made to turn it to the right. Ralph did not know this, while seated astride the body and manipulating the plane, and it was obvious that even though he had succeeded in splicing the wire, it would have been impossible, with the rudder in that condition, to turn by means of the wire controls.
Assisted by the machinist from the garage belonging to the owner of the school, they completed the repairs in an hour, and, hungry though they were, they again went aloft and sailed for their camp, which was reached after an absence of three hours.
They thus had less than a hour to get a hurriedmeal and prepare to line up with the squadron, to carry out the orders for the movement to the north. They were now going to that section of the fighting line in France where the most intense struggles up to that time had taken place, and where, ever since the opening of the conflict the most stupendous operations were being carried out to gain the mastery.
Imagine, if you can, the sight that met their gaze, as they took their place on the extreme right of the three squadrons, which were about to launch on this memorable occasion. They were about twenty miles south of the city of Verdun. The extreme northern aviation base was not more than eight miles southwest of the city, located on a level plain east of the forest of Argonne, and close to the Aire river, a tributary of the Aisne.
The trip was a short one, as the actual flying distance was less than fifteen miles. Long before they reached the scene of the great camp, they could see the thousands of vehicles, and the hundreds of thousands of soldiers, on the highways, in the fields, and around the villages along the two main railways which threaded their way along the wide valleys between the Meuse and the Aire.
During every mile of the trip they were under the constant vigilance of the officers, who moved them into echelon, formed them into squares, or caused them to trail in columns of two or three, the object being to accustom the pilots to obey and execute signals while in flight.
The day following their arrival at the field base, as it was called, they found a wonderful change in the order and arrangement of the place. Everything was done in the most systematic way. So many machines, from each squadron, were told off each morning for certain duties. Those duties were as follows: First, scouting. This meant ascertaining where the enemy was most active; where the batteries were located; noting the movement of troops, and their general character.
Scouts generally operate in pairs, for if it is impossible to signal back from the ships, one continues the work while the other makes a signaling report from such point or points in the rear as will make the information useful.
The next duty is to protect the scouts from interference. This work is carried on by the large ships, which are usually provided with rapid fire guns. They need not, necessarily, be speedy, for they are to keep in touch with the speedy scout ships, the latter of which sail around over a small area so the observations can be carried on as leisurely as possible.
Third come the bomb-throwers, usually heavy-powered machines, generally not armed, as all the carrying power is devoted to the transportation of bombs. These are also guarded by the heavily armed machines. Sometimes, as in the case of the Farman machine, which the lieutenant used, they were used for scouting, and were also serviceable for fighting purposes.
In the early period of the war there were not many pilots capable of doing the duty required in all branches of the service. It was frequently the case that the aviator would command a ship with a gun on it and do double duty, acting as scout, or he would chase and fight an enemy, manipulating the gun while manoeuvering the machine. It was the sort of duty in which Lieutenant Guyon was engaged at the time he was promoted to the command, and supplied with the new type of machine.
Naturally, as commander of the squadron, he was at liberty to take any one he desired in his flights, and as he had a real affection for the boys, he took delight in having them accompany him on many of his exploits. It was the custom for the lieutenant to entrust the piloting of the machine to one of the boys, while he acted as a scout. Frequently Ralph would perform this duty, while Alfred, with his camera engaged, under the direction of the lieutenant, taking such photos as were deemed necessary to supplement the Department maps.
Thus over a month was spent in scouting duty,and, as the weather became somewhat chilly, especially in the evenings, they never went aloft without being well muffled up. One morning the lieutenant called out to the boys that they were likely to have a busy day before them, as the weather was unusually mild for the season.
When they arrived at the hangar the machine was already out of the shed, and the lieutenant was busy with the charts in consultation with the officer of the day. Evidently something unusual was afoot, for they waited more than an hour before the lieutenant re-appeared.
"You might wrap up well," he said. "I have ordered a good luncheon, as we shall have a good long scouting area to cover."
"Which way are we going?" asked Ralph.
"Directly across the city, and then to the east. There is some unusually active business going on between this and Metz."
"Think I had better load up the camera pretty well, even though it is a little misty," said Alfred.
"By all means," responded the lieutenant.
It was eleven o'clock before all was ready, when the lieutenant, addressing Ralph, said: "After we pass over Verdun, going east, we cross what is called the La Pietrie forests. The principal towns we shall visit are Conflans and Briey, both within the German lines. Through those towns are the principal railway lines which supply the enemy forces to the west with provisions and ammunition. We have eight bombs aboard to be used atconvenient points. After lightening up the machine by disposing of them we may make a visit to Longwy, a town twenty-two miles north of Verdun. We ought to have good maps of the railroad sections over there."
As they arose the weather was somewhat hazy, so it was difficult to make observations at high altitudes. They, therefore, ascended at available points, and took a number of snapshots. To the left the Meuse river, and the edge of the forest beyond were distinctly visible, although they were then registering an altitude of more than 5,000 feet, and were five miles east of the river. To the east was an impenetrable haze, so the lieutenant directed the machine toward the river, and soon the German encampment and lines were visible through Barencourt.
All were on the alert to notice signs of the enemy's machines, for they were now in such a position that the Germans would be most likely to observe them, but there was not an indication that they would be molested. They then turned the machine to the northeast where a bridge was visible in the distance, and the lieutenant shouted through the tube:
"Make for the first bridge; follow the track on this side for a quarter of a mile, so as to give me a chance to aim. Then take the second bridge to the north further on, and in doing so pass the factory beyond."
"I understand," said Ralph.
The track was reached, and directions followed.Long before they were over the bridge the lieutenant pushed down the lever which released a bomb, which could plainly be seen at first, but they soon lost sight of the flying missile. A moment later the second bomb was released. How long it seemed for even the first bomb to reach the earth! As they were directly over the bridge an explosion was plainly visible. The first bomb had missed the bridge, but before they had time to comment on it the second one burst at the end of the bridge, and one of the spans went down.
A Dangerous Position
The factory was now in view. "Go down lower," shouted the lieutenant.
Alfred nudged the lieutenant, and pointed to the north. "That looks like an airship," he said.
"So it is," replied the lieutenant, after a hasty glance. "But we must attend to this little business first," he continued, as his foot was extended down to the bomb dropper.
"You have hit it!" shouted Alfred in glee. "Now for the other bridge."
They were not as successful with the last structure, although three bombs were expended on it.
"Now, where is the flyer you saw?" asked the lieutenant.
"It went easy just before we reached the second bridge," said Alfred. "I don't see it now."
"Then I suppose we shall have to go to Longwy to find where it is," said the lieutenant. "Can you see the city beyond?" he continued, pointing to the north. "Go to the left of the city," he said through the tube.
"Why did you tell him to go to the left?" asked Alfred.
"In that way we can avoid the long range aircraft guns, which we know are mounted in the forts to the east of the town," was the reply.
They were soon on the northern side of the town, and in looking south they were surprised to see two machines, one making for the east and the other seeming to fly directly toward them.
"That fellow will be a little surprised when he finds what he has to deal with," said the lieutenant with a chuckle.
"It's a Fokker, isn't it?" shouted Ralph through the tube.
"Quite right; when I give the signal turn to the left, and describe a sharp circle. I'll fool him," said the lieutenant.
The signal came; the machine veered around just as the Fokker came plainly into sight. Asthe turn was made the lieutenant turned the machine gun to the other side, and when the sight was cleared past the wings he gave the first turn of the crank to the gun.
There was a hum and a succession of cracks, which seemed to surprise the man in the Fokker. He evidently thought that the French machine was trying to get away, or it never would have ventured so close.
"The other machine is coming!" cried Alfred.
"Here is where we can get in the fun," said the lieutenant. "Make a straight line for the one coming up in the east. Go on until I signal."
This was a most audacious move, and while Ralph was guiding the machine toward the stranger the lieutenant poured a constant stream of shot into the first comer. It must not be assumed, however, that the German machines were idle during this period. Both were firing, but the shots went wild, especially after the daring move just made.
"Up! up! as high as you can go!" was the next order.
The machine tilted, and the lieutenant looked back at Ralph approvingly. "She is a dandy climber," said the lieutenant musingly. "Now I'd like to see them follow a bit."
One of the machines actually tried to imitate them, but the other ship was noticed wavering and swaying from side to side.
"Something is the matter with that fellow," said Alfred.
"Yes; he's done for, and we can easily polish off the other one," remarked the lieutenant, as he watched the falling machine. "Now turn around quickly and dive for the one who is trailing us," said the lieutenant through the tube.
Ralph banked the machine, and brought it around as quickly as possible. The machine was not a quick-turning one, but the oncoming machine was not prepared for the manoeuver, for it seemed to hesitate which way to go. If it went to the left it would be impossible to use its gun, and if it turned to the right it would be at the mercy of the Frenchman's gun. The only remedy was to dive; down went the machine at a sharp angle. The lieutenant's shots went wild, but they were soon rid of their troublesome companion.
"I suppose we'll have the whole German flying corps after us now," said the lieutenant. "Turn for home."
No sooner had they turned than another machine came up, this time a most determined fellow.
"Up! up!" again came the command, "and keep pointing that way. You might also veer to the left."
This time it was one of the well-known Taubes, with the disadvantage, however, that she was a tractor,—that is, had the propeller in front, like the Bleriot monoplane, so that it prevented the driver from shooting head on, whereas the Farman biplane was a pusher,—that is, had the gunmounted in front, and the propeller behind the planes. During the evolution of circling, however, the biplane had to present a broadside, which gave the Taube a chance to pour in a stream of shot, many of which took effect.
"That was a close shot!" shouted Ralph through the tube. The lieutenant looked back, and pointed to the tube. A shot had gone through it, causing Alfred and Ralph to look at each other in undisguised dismay.
A Safety Manoeuver
At every turn the lieutenant ground out the shot, and soon the barometer registered a height of 6,400 feet. Two miles more and the Taube made a peculiar turn, and glided to the right.
"You have hit him," said Alfred in excitement, and the lieutenant stopped churning.
"It seems like it," was the reply. "When we come back on the circle, go lower," he said to Ralph, "and I can finish him."
As they crept up closer and closer, the lieutenant, with his hand on the crank, waited for the final chance. Like a dying gladiator the Taube turned, and a most terrific storm of shot came from the quick firer. This was the only time that the boys actually heard the thuds of the striking missiles on the body of the machine. It proved to be the last effort of the Taube; it dropped away, but still held its upright position.
Instantly the engine of the biplane stopped. The lieutenant, with his hand still on the crank, turned and shouted:
"What is the matter?"
There was dead silence, and sudden darkness, for they could not see in either direction. They had entered a dense cloud.
"Have we started on the down glide?" continued the lieutenant.
"I am trying to hold it up," said Ralph. As he spoke they emerged from the cloud, but the Taube was nowhere in sight.
"Try the starter," said the lieutenant feverishly.
"Can't do it," was the reply.
"Then hold it steady while I examine the tank," said the lieutenant. He leaned over, and almost immediately exclaimed: "The connection is shot away."
"I will make a long glide if you can fix it in the meantime," said Ralph.
"No; I will connect the other tank," was the reply.
It required less than a minute to perform this operation, but despite the repair the engine would not turn.
After another examination the lieutenant looked up from the pit, and said: "It's all up now. The other tank is also empty."
The barometer now showed that they were only a little over three thousand feet above the earth. A landing must be made, that was evident; but where? Alfred pointed to a forest, directly east.
"That might be a good place to come down, because there doesn't seem to be any houses there."
"Just the place if we can find a spot big enough," said the lieutenant.
With his field glasses he scanned the forest.
"Do you see that strip of dark green a little to the left? That is a clear space, I am sure. Steer for that after circling around. We are still high enough to enable us to make a careful observation of the spot."
The machine descended in its regular glide, and they passed over the indicated spot.
"That is a dandy place if you can hit it right," said Alfred.
It was narrow, not more than a hundred feet wide, but it extended diagonally up the hill, not the most desirable place to land, by any means, but it was the only thing to be done.
"Where shall I land?" asked Ralph.
"Try to strike the second clump of brush; do you see what I mean?" asked the lieutenant, his words tumbling over each other in his haste.
"I can do it," was the reply.
"May you have good luck," said the lieutenant.
They approached the end of the open space between the trees. Fortunately the wind was not blowing, and the fuselage struck the first clump of brush, but they passed over it without difficulty. Ralph then threw up the elevator sharply, and the front end tilted, while the body of the machine sank down gently, and the landing was made without a jar.
"That was the most beautiful thing I ever saw. You deserve great credit for that piece of work," said the lieutenant, as he leaned back and patted Ralph.
They leaped from the machine, and for a moment stood there helpless with the reaction which set in, the boys, particularly, being influenced by the great strain. The lieutenant was the first to speak: "Well, here we are in a pretty fix; but it might be worse," he said.
"No; we haven't a drop of petrol left," said Ralph ruefully. "Both tanks were perforated."
They sat down to consider the situation. It was now past five o'clock, and although it was generally the custom to take luncheon with them on these trips, the extra amount which had been stored was barely sufficient for a half meal. The sun was going down, and they had no idea of their location except that, by calculating, the lieutenant judged they might be fifteen miles northeast of Longwy. Everything was still, except the evening chirrup of the birds.
"It is too late to do any investigating tonight; but our first duty in the morning must be to arrange for food," said the lieutenant.
Fortunately, they had taken the precaution to carry plenty of wraps, so they were not at all uncomfortable. They gathered leaves, made up comfortable berths, and, after a most exciting day, slept soundly all night.
As soon as the first grey of the morning sun lightened up they arose, and began an investigation of the surrounding vicinity. A reconnoitering journey was proposed, as, during the night, faint whistles of locomotives could be heard coming from the east.
"That is the direction we must go," said the lieutenant, as they prepared themselves for the trip.
They entered a dense forest, setting their course by the compass, and marched due east for an hour without seeing the first sign of habitation, when they were suddenly startled by a locomotive whistle, which could not be more than a mile away. They drew back and listened for a time, then cautiously crept forward, looking for an opening. A quarter of a mile to the left they discovered a wagon trail leading to the north.
This began to look as though some one might be living in the vicinity. The trail was followed, as cautiously and as closely as possible, and a mile beyond a cabin was sighted. This was the time for them to exercise care, but they felt sure the people living there would sympathize with them.
"You see, we are in Belgium now, and they hate the Germans," said the lieutenant. "I suppose we are close to the border of Luxemburg, and the people there feel the same as the Belgians."
"Do you know a place in Belgium called Bovigny?" asked Ralph.
"Yes," responded the lieutenant. "That is on the other side of Luxemburg, close to the frontier. Why do you ask?"
"That is where we entered Belgium, and near where we assisted in capturing the auto load of Germans," said Alfred.
"Yes, Bovigny is less than forty miles from this place," said the lieutenant.
"Isn't that strange," said Ralph. "Here we are, close to the place where we started on this excursion. Why, we made a regular circle to get here," and they laughed at the situation.
It was now past six o'clock in the morning. No one was in sight, and they assumed it might be too early for the people, so they waited for an hour; still there was no sign that the cabin was occupied.
"I suppose we might as well go closer and investigate." They went forward without seeing a sign of life, except a dozen or more chickens, which were scattered over the lawn to the rear of the cabin. "If there is any one there a whistle might bring them out," continued the lieutenant.
There was no response, and after waiting a short time they circled about the house, and they saw that the front door was open, but there wasno furniture within. They then boldly approached, and began to examine the contents of the rooms. Not a scrap of food was found, although ants and other vermin were numerous, and there was a mouldy smell in the second room, there being only two compartments or rooms. While they were searching about, two chickens appeared at the door, and with a common instinct the boys encouraged a closer acquaintance, to the amusement of the lieutenant. One of the chickens was finally trapped, and a meal was soon prepared and cooked in the oven. They had barely time to finish the repast, when a shot was heard in the woods to the south, at which they hurriedly left the cottage, and rushed to the nearest clump of brush across the clearing. A second shot followed, evidently quite near, but apparently from the same direction as the first.
"They are probably hunters," remarked the lieutenant.
"Isn't our machine over in that direction?" asked Ralph.
"Undoubtedly," said the lieutenant.
"I wonder what they would do if they found it?" queried Alfred.
"I think it would be perfectly safe if the hunters are natives. I am sure they would suspect the truth, for they would at once recognize it as a French machine," replied the lieutenant.
"Would it be safe to go in that direction?" asked Alfred.
"That was in my mind," replied the lieutenant."As we must find some one in this region, and they seem to me to be the most likely fellows to approach, come on," he added.
They hurriedly went forward, expecting every minute to catch sight of the hunters. Their progress was slow, as the ground was full of leaves, and the wood thick; besides, there was considerable underbrush. They thus wearily tramped on and on for more than an hour, covering a distance which should have brought them close to the location of their machine. Despite all their efforts it could not be found nor the place located.
The only remedy was to retrace their steps and go back to the cabin, and from that place they could readily follow the wagon road back to the place where they emerged from the woods. The cottage was reached shortly after noon, and an hour was spent in catching several of the chickens and roasting them, so that it was in the middle of the afternoon before they again retraced their steps back to the starting point.
Here another difficulty presented itself. They could not find the place where they first reached the trail, so they sat down to wait for the welcome sound of a train to guide them. Even that aid was denied them, and as darkness was now coming on a suitable place was found to rest for the night at the base of an uprooted tree. There the night was spent in comparative comfort, as, fortunately, the weather still continued mild and agreeable.
The matter of food now became a vital one, butso, also, was the necessity of locating the airplane. The matter was debated, and the lieutenant finally said: "We must find our machine; from that point I think we should strike to the west. It would be unwise for us to approach the railroad to the east, as that is in the hands of the Germans, and every mile of it is patrolled."
By means of the compass they trudged to the west, and soon reached familiar ground. As they were about to enter the open space, which was recognized as their landing place, voices were heard. The three glanced at each other in dismay, until Alfred's keen ears detected a French word or two, of which he quickly advised his companions.
"I will call to them in French," said the lieutenant.
He did so, and the two men, for the lieutenant could now distinctly see them, were startled, but in another moment returned an answer.
"We are French," said the lieutenant. "That is our machine, and we have been reconnoitering."
"We are friends," said one of the men.
In another moment the lieutenant and the boys were at the machine, and grasped the hands of the hunters. "We are Belgians," continued the man.
"Where are we?" asked the lieutenant.
"In the forest, north of Messanoy," was the reply.
"Are there any Germans near?" asked the lieutenant.
"Yes, at St. Leger, to the north, and at the junction of Arlon, to the northeast. But troops are constantly going along both roads to Longwy and Metz," replied one of the spokesmen.
"Where can we get something to eat?" was asked.
"Ah, we can arrange that," said one of the men with a smile. "Follow us."
On the way the lieutenant learned a great deal of the system in force by the Germans. They were conducted north, through the woods for fully a mile where they reached a wagon trail. Here the lieutenant stopped.
"Where does this trail lead?" he asked.
"From the railway station on the east line to a little village on the west side of the forest," was the answer.
"Then we were on this trail yesterday," said Ralph.
If they had gone a quarter of a mile farther, after reaching the cottage, they could have seen the first cottage in the village. It was also learned that the two men were the hunters whose shots were heard the previous day while at the cabin. The men lived a quarter of a mile from the village, in the elevated part, near the border of the forest, and like true Belgians were glad to help their French brothers.
"That is the place where I live," said the elder of the two men, as he pointed to a low cottage on the side of a hill, "and Raoul here lives below the turn. We must approach the house cautiously, for we know spies to be in this part of the country."
"I will go ahead," said Raoul. "Follow and go up to your house through the orchard."
They tarried by the roadside until the signal appeared. Upon reaching the house they were greeted by Felix's wife, for that was the name Raoul bestowed on his friend. A good meal was soon spread before them, and in the meantime the lieutenant was plied with questions, as the people in that section had no opportunities for learning what was really taking place in the outside world.
Finally the lieutenant asked: "Do you know of any place where we could get some petrol?"
The men mused for a while, and shook their heads. "You know," Felix said, "everything around here is controlled by the Germans, and petrol is one of the things that is kept strictly under guard."
"Do you know the place where they store it?" inquired the lieutenant.
"Yes, but it would be dangerous to attempt to get any of it," said Raoul.
"I have a plan," said Felix, "but we cannot do anything before night. I know every step of the way to the station, and will take you there this evening."
"Good!" said the lieutenant. "In the meantime, give me a diagram of the station, and the roads leading to it. That will help me to become familiar with the surroundings."
For the next hour the lieutenant was busily engaged in learning all about the country, and where the stores and ammunition were kept.
"I think we might as well have some of that petrol," said the lieutenant with a smile, as he looked at the boys, who nodded their approval, as they were keen to participate in the plans which the lieutenant had formed.
That night, after ten o'clock, they appeared at their place of concealment, for it was thought wise to keep away from the house in the event any of the prying neighbors should happen in. Together they cautiously found their way to the railway and walked along the track until the first switch was reached. While waiting there so that Felix could point out the different objects, Ralph drew the lever, and set it so the first train would take the switch.
The lieutenant saw it and nodded approvingly. Ahead a few hundred feet was a low building,which was reached by the track which led from the switch.
"The guards are stationed at that shed across the track, and sometimes they come over," said Felix.
"But is the building open?" asked the lieutenant.
"There are no doors; only open arches. The tanks can be loaded and unloaded from the tracks," was the answer.
They were carrying three vessels, such as are usually employed for transporting petrol in small quantities, and nearing the shed the lieutenant said: "Remain here and await my orders. I will go ahead and investigate."
With two of the receptacles in his hands he crouched as low as possible, and made his way along the track, but before reaching the structure he left the track, and approached the shed from the south side. He was gone for more than fifteen minutes, and when he returned with the receptacles filled he immediately seized the other, returning with it also filled in a few minutes.
"Now, take these to the cross road, and out of sight. I will be there in fifteen minutes," and saying this he quietly left them.
The boys and Felix carried the cans to the designated place with the greatest care, for the fluid was precious to them. No sooner had they hidden the receptacles when something like a flash of lightning illuminated everything about them, and this was followed by an explosion.
Felix gasped as he gazed in the direction of the sheds, for he divined the cause. The boys, too, were startled.
"I wonder if the lieutenant did that?" asked Ralph.
"I have no doubt of it," replied Felix.
"Do you really think he did it? I wonder if he is hurt?" said Alfred, his voice in a tremor.
They waited for more than a half hour. What if the lieutenant had been caught in the catastrophe? They could see the soldiers at the station rushing hither and thither, and the people were going toward the station from all directions.
"Mighty good thing we hid in this place," said Felix.
Felix and the boys were now in consternation, and as they had about decided to go up to their former place of concealment, the headlight of a train approached from the south. It slowed down a little as it neared the station.
"The switch!" was Ralph's exclamation. As he said that the train reached the switch, and turned to the track leading to the fiercely burning shed. Half of the train ran through a sea of fire before it could be checked. It was a terrifying sight, and Ralph shook with fear at the sight. Fortunately, it was a freight train, or the toll of death would have been awful.
"This begins to look bad for us. I am afraid the lieutenant has been captured. This place is getting to be too dangerous, and we must leave at once," said Felix, as he seized one of the cans.
"I will go down and see what the trouble is," said Alfred, but Felix shook his head. Nevertheless, although Ralph also remonstrated, and insisted on accompanying him, Alfred had his way. One would be safer than two, he thought, and without further words he crawled along the fence, avoiding contact with those who were in the near vicinity.
A few minutes after Alfred left, the lieutenant returned, and was shocked to learn of Alfred's journey.
"Take these cans up to the house, and I will go back and try to find him," he told them.
Alfred, meanwhile, had reached the track near the switch, and not far from the rear end of the burning train. As he was about to cross the track his foot struck an object, and he fell across the track. He was surprised to see several men appear and gaze at him, and it must be admitted that he was decidedly nervous over the situation. However, he did not venture to say anything, but quickly started at the fire, for he now stood with others, in the full glare of the flames. As no one paid any attention to him, it occurred to him that he had as much right there as the villagers.
All about him he heard criticisms of the calamity, and some one suggested that the fire and explosion was caused by a French airship, and, in fact, this seemed to be the general opinion.
Alfred wandered about listlessly, now feeling assured that the people knew nothing of the lieutenant, for he was certain that the news of the captureof a Frenchman would cause great excitement. Waiting the first opportunity, he slipped over the fence, and crawled along in the shadow of some brush for several hundred feet, when, to his consternation, a tall man arose in his path.
He turned, and was about to leap the fence, when he heard a familiar voice: "Alfred."
He immediately recognized the lieutenant, and it is questionable which of the two felt happier at the meeting. They quickly ascended the hill, where they met a gloomy pair in Ralph and Felix, and the lieutenant told his story. He had allowed the petrol to run from one of the tanks after he took away the last receptacle, and when he returned he tapped three of the other tanks, expecting to wait five or ten minutes before firing it.
While thus waiting two of the guards approached, and he hid behind a box car on the opposite siding. He feared that his plans had miscarried, for he felt sure the guards would discover the petrol. They did not, however, go into the sheds, but remained outside, engaged in conversation for more than ten minutes. When they left he lost no time in again crossing the track.
He reasoned that the whole of the interior of the first set of sheds must have been flooded by that time, and the problem now was to ignite it, and get away safely, so he struck a match and lighted a small saturated cloth, which was thrown into the nearest opening. It caught instantly, and as the entire shed was now filled with the vapor, the explosion followed before he could get acrossthe track. It was so great in violence that he was hoisted from his feet, so it seemed to him, and completely stunned. How long he remained in that condition of half stupor he did not know, but he soon heard a babel of voices, and saw everything about him as bright as day. Then, to his surprise, a train came up the switch, and rushed through the fire. It was this which probably saved him from being detected.
"You may be sure," he said, "that as soon as my senses returned I knew what had happened, and that train started my sluggish brain into activity. I ran away from the train, and so did several others. No one cared to follow me, thinking, of course, that I belonged to the crew. That explains my long absence."
"Now, how are we to get the petrol over to the machine?" asked Ralph.
"We must ask Felix about it," said the lieutenant. "Probably you can help us out in that direction?"
"I have a light wagon," said Felix, "but we must not venture out with it until after midnight; in the meantime I will go down to the village and get all the news."
He returned in an hour. "It is reported that an airship did the damage," said Felix.
Shortly after two o'clock in the morning the light wagon was on hand, and Raoul accompanied them. After loading the wagon with the cans they started on the trip through the forest. Felix and Raoul both remained with the lieutenant and theboys until the tanks were repaired, and the sun had appeared. The machine was then turned around, and headed for the opening in the forest through which they had entered. Felix and Raoul, in the meantime, diligently cut away the underbrush and bushes in the path of the machine so it would be able to make a fair start.
The boys now mounted the machine after shaking hands with the two men, and the lieutenant, reaching into his pocket, drew out a hundred franc note, which he tendered to them. They refused to take it. The lieutenant then threw it on the ground, saying: "This belongs to Belgium, and you had better take it."
"Good bye, and God bless you," shouted Felix, as the motor began to hum. The machine gliding down the incline quickly gathered speed, and it was soon in the air.
After reaching an altitude of a thousand meters, the lieutenant said: "It would be interesting to pay the village a visit after our pleasant experience there."
Ralph, accordingly, turned the rudder, and the machine swung to the right. It required only a few minutes to reach the scene, and there, notwithstanding the distance, they could see the blackened and still smoking ruins in the two immense spaces adjoining the station.
Now, for the first time, they appreciated the fact that a worthy task had been accomplished, for this station was one of the most important oil supply points along that whole line.
The soldiers were rushing wildly about the station grounds, and the officials there were no doubt now assured, after seeing the machine, that the depot had actually been destroyed by a bomb from that airplane.
The machine was now directed toward Longwy, and after giving that city a wide berth, flew directly south, with Verdun as the objective. The grounds below and to the west of that city were reached before ten o'clock, to the astonishment of the men quartered there, for it had been reported the night before that the lieutenant and the boys had been captured or killed in the fight at Longwy.
The lieutenant won the cross for the exploit, and the boys received honorable mention from the government.