Count Karl von Sinzig was certainly the "first away." Typically
Teutonic, he had succeeded in throwing dust in the eyes of his rivals.
Acting upon the principle "Do others or they'll do you," he was leaving
no stone unturned to pull off the big prize; and, figuratively speaking,
a good many of the stones were too dirty for a clean sportsman to
handle.
For one thing von Sinzig had obtained his airship by fraud, although
none of the other competitors were aware of the fact. Formerly in the
German Air Service, the count managed to smuggle one of the Zeppelins
out of the shed at Tondern, taking it by night to an aerodrome in East
Prussia.
According to the terms of the Peace Treaty, Germany was to surrender all
her airships. How she evaded the stipulation is now well known. The
Zeppelins at Tondern and other air stations in Sleswig-Holstein were
destroyed by fire deliberately, to prevent them falling into the hands
of the Allies. This act of bad faith was similar to the scuttling of
the Hun fleet at Scapa; and the tardiness of the Allies to obtain
reparation merely encouraged the Huns to other acts of passive defiance.
But, although the destruction of the airships was taken as an accepted
fact, it was unknown outside certain Junker circles that one of the
Zeppelins had been removed before the conflagration.
Revolutions and counter-revolutions, in which the fire-eating von Sinzig
had several narrow escapes from death, led the count to seek pastures
new; and about this time the publication of M. Chauvasse's terms for the
international contest suggested to the Junker count the possibility of
making good his financial losses.
Gathering a crew of airmen who had had experience in Zeppelins during
the war, von Sinzig flew the airship to Spain, crossing Austria and the
north of Italy during the night, and carefully avoiding French territory
on his aerial voyage.
In a secluded part of the mountainous Estremadura he had practically his
own way. The Alcaldes of the nearest surrounding villages were easily
bribed to leave the mysterious airship and its foreign owner severely
alone. From stores of German war material "sold" to Spain von Sinzig
obtained gas cylinders, petrol, spares, and even a baby "Albatross"--a
small yet powerful monoplane. With folding wings this machine could
with ease be stowed away in the car of the airship. With German
thoroughness the Count, looking well ahead, foresaw that the Albatross
would probably serve a most useful purpose in helping him to win the
coveted prize.
The honour of being the first man to fly round the world took quite a
subsidiary place in von Sinzig's plans. Since Germany did not own a
square inch of territory outside Europe, he was compelled to make use of
alien lands in which to alight. That was a handicap, and the thought of
it rankled. There was some consolation to be derived from the prospect
of wresting the big prize from a hated Englishman, a despised Yankee, or
a miserable yellow Jap. And he meant to do it--somehow.
Already Germans had resumed their "peaceful penetration" of Great
Britain and the United States. Commercial travellers, representing
German houses and at the same time potential spies, were able to
ascertain with little difficulty particulars concerning the British and
American competitors for the Round-the-World Flight. The moment von
Sinzig learnt of the date of Sir Reginald Fosterdyke's departure from
England, he anticipated the time by starting the day before the British
airship was supposed to leave Gibraltar.
This was a comparatively easy matter. According to the terms of the
contest, competitors had to obtain a clearance certificate from an
official of the International Airways Board. Provided the flight were
completed within twenty days of the date of the certificate the
principal condition was complied with, while it was furthermore
specified that the certificate could be post-dated to the extent of
twelve hours to allow for the time taken up in transmission from the
Board's representative to the actual competitor.
In von Sinzig's case he scored again. Employing a swift motor-car, he
obtained the official _vise_ at Madrid, and was back at the rendezvous
within two and a half hours, the atrocious roads notwithstanding.
Everything was in readiness for the start, and at ten in the morning Z64
left her shed and, flying at a comparatively low altitude, made off in a
south-easterly direction.
The German was counting on forty-eight hours' start of his English
rival--possibly more. He had been informed that the "Golden Hind"
proposed leaving England on the following Monday. Fosterdyke really
meant to have started on that day, and only the exuberant demonstration
of the crowd outside Air Grange had made him alter his plans. It was a
lucky stroke, for Fosterdyke's secret intelligence department was at
fault. According to information received from Germany, Count von Sinzig
was a non-starter. Incidentally it was the count who had set that
rumour afloat. It was but one of the many petty artifices upon which he
built his hopes of carrying off the Chauvasse Prize.
Chuckling to himself, Count von Sinzig stood beside the helmsman of Z64,
quite in ignorance of the fact that a few thousand feet above him was
the British airship which he fondly thought was resting in her shed in
far-off England.