"You know the railway bridge over the Ourthe, at Sy, just south of
Hamoir?" the captain began, lighting a cigarette.
"Yes," said Pariset.
"A section of our sappers were told off to blow it up this morning.
Their work was only half done when they were surprised and cut up by a
patrol of Uhlans. The Germans very quickly repaired the damage, and are
now using the line to bring up troops and material against the Boncelles
and Embourg forts."
"Well?" said Pariset, as the officer paused.
"It occurred to the Chief that you who had saved one bridge might
perhaps destroy another. It is a mere suggestion, not a command. The
work would be very risky; it is not your job, and all that part of the
country is in German hands. But when the matter was mentioned I said I
thought you would at least make a reconnaissance and learn what prospect
there is of a successful attempt."
"Of course," said Pariset at once. "You don't know exactly how much
damage was done?"
"No. Perhaps a bomb or two would complete it."
"That is rather doubtful," said Pariset musingly. "The chances of
hitting the bridge at the right spot from an aeroplane flying very high
at speed are slight, and we should have to fly high to escape the German
shot."
"Unless we flew in the Taube," suggested Kenneth. "In that we might get
low enough to smash the bridge before they suspected us."
"The objection to that is that you would be in almost as great danger
from our own guns as from the German," said the captain. "The forts
would certainly fire on you. But stay: if you decide on that, I will
'phone the southern forts to pass a Taube showing the Russian flag. That
would protect you until you are clear of our lines."
"Very well," said Pariset. "We will start early in the morning. Do you
mind getting us a Russian flag while I talk over things with my friend?"
"Not at all. I will bring it to you here."
He left them.
"It is frightfully risky," said Pariset, "but we must make the attempt.
We must wear German uniforms. Your friend Granger's will come in
handy."
"You have practised bomb-dropping, of course," said Kenneth.
"Yes, but, as I said, it's a most uncertain thing. Besides the
difficulty of hitting the vulnerable spot, the bombs sometimes do little
damage. We might drop a dozen, and yet fail to destroy the bridge.
It's essentially a job to be done on terra firma."
"It's not likely we should be able to land. Even if there is at the
moment no considerable force in the neighbourhood the bridge is sure to
be guarded."
"That's certain. Still, it's just as well to be provided for the off
chance, so I'll take, along with the ordinary bombs, a small case of
gelignite and a little electric battery--a pick-axe, too: that may be
useful."
"How far is it?"
"About twenty miles. The bridge is at a narrow gorge by the village of
Simon's Inn. There's a tunnel beyond, and the banks of the river are
steep. The railway crosses the river several times, but I'm pretty sure
of the particular bridge they have tried to destroy."
They waited nearly an hour before the captain returned.
"I have had the greatest difficulty in getting the flag," he said,
placing a parcel in Pariset's hands. "I tried several shops in vain,
then it occurred to me to apply at the Russian consulate, and they
happened to have a spare one. I wish you luck. Report to me at
head-quarters."
At seven o'clock next morning, equipped with the needful apparatus, they
ascended from their headquarters in the Taube monoplane, took an
easterly course, then swung southward and passed between the Flemelle
and Boncelles forts. It was a beautiful summer morning. The country
was bathed in sunlight, and no warlike sounds disturbed the still air.
But south of the town clouds of dust hung over every road, and they
caught sight of masses of men moving northward, the sun glinting on
weapons and the spikes of helmets. Pariset, in the observer's seat,
felt sick at heart. How was it possible for the little Belgian army to
resist these immense hordes?
The well-known shape of the aeroplane (they no longer showed the Russian
flag) purchased immunity. They flew over the railway, then over the
Meuse north of Huy, then sweeping to the east soon came in sight of the
Ourthe winding between meadows and precipitous cliffs, and the railway
to Neufchateau. The valley broadened out. Instructed by Pariset,
Kenneth steered the monoplane over the village of Hamoir on the left
bank. Almost immediately afterwards they came above the cluster of
houses at Sy, and the bridge crossing the gorge, beyond which the
railway entered the tunnel.
On the north side of the bridge stood a long goods train, apparently
waiting the signal to proceed. On the south side, part in, part out of
the tunnel, was a train of passenger coaches, gaily bedecked with leafy
branches of trees. A few soldiers had got out of the train, and were
sitting smoking in the meadow. At each end of the bridge four guards
were posted.
The aeroplane passed over the cliff through which the tunnel ran, then
bore to the left in the direction of Werbomont and was soon out of sight
from the bridge. Choosing a lonely field sheltered by a wood, Kenneth
brought the machine to the ground.
"We can't destroy the bridge with bombs," said Pariset, "but it's just
possible to do it with the gelignite if you are game."
"What's your idea?" asked Kenneth.
"There's clearly a block on the line somewhere to the north. It may be
a long time before it is cleared, giving us just the opportunity we
want. There's a path through the fields on the left bank, leading to
the bridge. It seems fairly covered. My idea is that you should go
down to the bridge with the gelignite."
"But it is guarded," Kenneth interrupted.
"Don't be impatient. I was going on to say that I will fly over the
bridge and stampede the guards. That will give you a chance to creep
up. Your uniform will protect you long enough for the purpose, I hope.
The Germans won't suspect you until the explosion occurs. Then it will
be a ticklish moment. The fellows who have got out of the train may
fire at you; but they are a good distance away, and you ought to have
time to rush back under cover before they can do any damage. I'll be
ready to pick you up. Or, if you like, I'll take the gelignite and you
drop the bombs."
"No. I've had no practice at that. I'll take my chance. But we're
about two miles from the bridge, I fancy. It will take me at least half
an hour to get there, not knowing the way. Anything may happen in that
time."
"I'll come with you until we find a guide. There will be plenty of time
for me to come back to the aeroplane and still reach the bridge before
you. I will give you half an hour from now before I fly off."
They set off together, walking rapidly over the fields. Turning into a
lane, they came suddenly face to face with a farm boy of about sixteen
years. His jaw dropped, and a look of terror showed in his eyes when he
saw the German uniforms. Pariset spoke to him rapidly in Walloon, and
gave him money. Thus reassured, he agreed to conduct Kenneth across the
hill to the path which Pariset had mentioned.
"Good luck!" said Pariset, as they parted. "Don't risk too much. If
the stratagem fails, make your way back to the same spot."
Kenneth carried the gelignite and the battery. He gave the pick-axe to
the boy. Pariset had learnt from him that no Germans had been seen on
the lanes and roads, but they walked across the fields under cover of
the hedgerows in case patrols or foraging parties should appear.
Their course brought them within half an hour to a field some little
distance above the bridge. Kenneth dismissed the boy, and keeping under
cover to avoid observation from the trains, which were stationary in the
places where he had seen them forty minutes before, he crept as near to
the bridge as he dared, and waited. He heard the water lapping the
piers, the voices of the guards at the nearer end, the distant hiss of
the locomotive of the troop train blowing off steam--and then a faint
deep _burr_, growing louder moment by moment.
The guards raised their voices.
"Another Taube," said one.
"He's flying very high," said another. "Thinks we are Belgians,
perhaps."
"But he's coming down," said the third. "Look at that swoop! It fairly
makes me sick to see him."
Kenneth, posted under cover, was not yet able to see the aeroplane, but
from the silence that fell upon the guards he guessed that Pariset was
executing one of those steep dives which make the onlooker hold his
breath.
"I hope he won't come too low," he thought.
And then, in pursuance of the plan arranged, he began to steal along the
bank of the river towards the bridge, confident that the attention of
the guards was riveted on the aeroplane. He saw it now, sweeping round
in a huge circle, still at a great height.
When the expected signal came, it was startling in its suddenness.
Kenneth had not seen an object fall from the aeroplane, but there was a
sharp explosion just beyond the bridge, a cloud of dust, and cries of
amazement and fear from the guards. He moved nearer to the bridge. From
the direction of the troop train he heard the crackle of rifles. The
eyes of the guards were still turned upwards upon the monoplane, which
was circling round at a height of three or four thousand feet above the
bridge, within range, indeed, but a difficult target.
Taking advantage of the excitement of the men, Kenneth had crept through
the scrub on the river bank and come beneath the end of the bridge. He
had already perceived that the stone arch at each end had been
destroyed, but the centre arch was intact, and the gaps had been covered
with stout balks of timber on which the railway track was laid. His aim
must be to destroy the central arch. With that broken down, to repair
the bridge a second time would be a much more difficult matter.
Covered now by the bridge, he waded out to the central arch, carrying
his apparatus. He had supposed that it would be necessary to hack out
with the pick-axe a hole in the masonry large enough to hold the case of
gelignite, and the risk of being heard strung his nerves to a high
tension. It was with great relief that he discovered a hole already
made. Apparently a charge had been laid there by the Belgian engineers,
but it had failed to explode, and probably had been removed by the
Germans.
He lost no time in wedging the case of gelignite into the cavity,
attached the detonator, and waded back to the bank. There was now
almost continuous rifle fire from the troops, who had alighted from the
train and lined up on the track. The incessant noise smothered the
whirr of the propeller, but it was clear that Pariset was still
absorbing the attention of the Germans. Kenneth crept along up stream,
paying out the wire as he went, until he reached the shelter of a dense
thicket. Then he made the connection with the battery. Instantaneously
there was a deafening roar, the arch collapsed, and the whole bridge
fell with a crash into the river.
Somewhat breathless, Kenneth remained hidden for a minute. The rifle
shots had ceased; there was a confused shouting from the troops; and
through it he heard again the hum of the aeroplane. A bomb burst on the
ground near the end of the bridge. The fusillade recommenced. Seizing
the opportunity, Kenneth quitted his hiding-place, and made the best of
his way back across the field, observing that Pariset was still circling
round in order to distract the enemy, but rising ever higher.
When Kenneth reached the rendezvous Pariset was awaiting him.
"Hullo! You're wounded!" cried Kenneth, noticing that Pariset was
grasping his right wrist.
"Bruised by a splinter, that's all," said Pariset. "It's painful, but
not dangerous. The planes are riddled; I'm very lucky to have fared, no
worse. You managed that splendidly, Ken. I was surprised you did it so
quickly."
"There was already a cavity in the arch, which saved labour."
"We have both earned our dinner. You will pilot the machine back?"
"Of course. Are you sure you are not seriously hurt?"
"Quite. I only hope I get nothing worse before the war is over."