AN AEROPLANE AMIDST THE LIGHTNINGS
Two days after the occurrence related in the preceding chapter, the
first section of the Corps was ordered to proceed to the Verdun station.
Lieutenant Guyon belonged to this part of the force, and, as he had now
recovered, was instrumental in securing the assignment of the boys to
his care.
"Then we can go along?" asked Ralph, with some doubts and misgivings, as
they were packing the belongings of the lieutenant.
"I have arranged that," said the lieutenant.
"What is that?" asked Alfred, who appeared at the door of the hangar.
"We are going," shouted Ralph.
"Yes; you might as well get your things packed and put them in the
machine," said the lieutenant.
The boys laughed, for outside of a few trinkets, and underclothing, they
had nothing of importance to take along. They remarked that it was
singular how few things seemed to be really needed, traveling, as they
did, from place to place at a moment's notice.
"When do you intend to start?" asked Ralph.
"Whenever we are ready," was the reply. "We intend to leave in squadron
formation and manoeuver for an hour, and afterwards each is to make for
the station on his own hook."
Shortly thereafter the first signal was given. The machine was pushed
out and lined up. At the second signal the machines were mounted. At the
third tap the motors began to hum, and soon there was a movement in the
whole line. It was a splendid spectacle, as the machines left the
ground, and rose majestically toward the west, the direction from which
the wind was blowing.
The manoeuvers were particularly interesting to the boys, and the
lieutenant led his section in the formation during the entire practice
until the captain's flag on the great Duperdessun indicated that the
machines were free. After making a great sweep to the west the
lieutenant turned to the left, encircling the town, and pointed due
east.
Before they had proceeded fifteen kilometers, something happened to the
engine, for it ceased to hum. They were then at an altitude of a mile,
and inability to start the motor made it necessary for them to volplane
to the earth. Sighting a considerable town to the left, which was
located south of a canal, the machine was directed toward a smooth, open
field, not far from the environs, and after landing they learned that
the place was Ligny-en-Barrois.
It was found that through some accident the petrol tank had started a
leak, and that the liquid was slowly oozing out during the flight,
without giving the first indication until the engines failed. It was
just the kind of an accident which necessitated the removal of the
reservoir in order to make the proper repair.
"Which is the fastest machine?" asked Alfred, while they were waiting
for the return of the reservoir.
"The Morane, by all means," replied the lieutenant.
"I thought the Caudrons were the best?" remarked Ralph.
"It depends on what you mean by _best_," answered the lieutenant. "The
different machines are used for various purposes, and while speed is
important, there are other things just as necessary."
"What other things?" asked Alfred.
"Well, bomb-dropping for one thing; then, some machines are better
adapted than others for directing artillery fire, or for using machine
guns," said the lieutenant.
"The captain has a Caudron," said Alfred, "and he doesn't use a gun on
it either."
"No; the Caudron is admirably adapted for observations, and is used
almost wholly in France for directing artillery fire," answered the
lieutenant.
"It seems to me that this machine is good for observing," said Ralph.
"Yes; and it is used for that purpose, but it is now being put to use
for photographing purposes,--that is, most of the Maurice Farman types
are so used," answered the lieutenant.
"Why is that?" asked Alfred.
"For two reasons; first, because you will see we can get a good view
downward; and, second, because it is the most stable machine in flight,
the latter making it especially well adapted to take good views,"
replied the lieutenant.
"Which are the largest ships?" asked Ralph.
"The Voisin and the Breguet, by all means. They are able to carry heavy
loads, and are used as bomb-dropping machines, as their fuselages are
especially well adapted to carry and release the missiles," said the
lieutenant.
"But I saw a Voisin at one of the hangars which had a big gun on it,"
said Ralph.
"Ah, that was the Voisin Cannon, which carries a 37-millimetre gun,"
said the lieutenant. "That is used for bombarding captive balloons and
Zeppelins, if the latter should ever make their appearance."
"A 37-millimetre gun?" repeated Alfred.
"Yes; that's about one and a half inch in your measure," answered the
lieutenant.
Within an hour the reservoir was again in position, and there was no
delay in again mounting into the air. "We might take a little trip due
east, as far as Toul, and north of that point we may have the privilege
of seeing some of the enemy," remarked the lieutenant, as they mounted
the machine.
A beautiful silver thread now appeared on the landscape to the east, as
they reached their greatest altitude. Looking back there was a smaller
thread to the west, and, apparently, the same distance from their
viewpoint. They thus had the opportunity of seeing, at one glance, two
of the most noted rivers which figure in the great war,--the Meuse to
the east, and the Marne in the west, these streams at this point being
within thirty miles of each other.
It was, probably, imprudent for them to take an out-of-the-way course to
reach their destination, but the temptation was very great. The sun was
still shining brightly when they started from Ligny-en-Barrois, but it
was now growing dark from the overspreading clouds, and as soon as Toul
was sighted the lieutenant turned the machine northward.
To the west it could now be seen that the threatening clouds were coming
up, and they appeared to be sweeping toward the east with great speed,
at right angles to the aviators' course.
"I wonder what the lieutenant will do?" queried Ralph half to himself,
as he looked at the clouds, and then glanced back to the officer.
The lieutenant shook his head, and pointed the machine further to the
left.
"Why, I believe he is going right into it!" remarked Alfred in amazement
to Ralph.
But the officer now made a wide swinging turn. A view of the heavens
indicated that the storm was an extensive one, and that the speed of the
wind had increased most alarmingly, for, in looking down they seemed to
stand still over the little hamlet beneath them. The wind, into which
they were flying, was traveling at the same speed as the machine.
There was but one course to follow. They must return to the earth,
otherwise they would be driven far over into the German lines. By
setting the control lever so as to depress the nose of the machine they
rapidly descended, the lever being intermittently drawn back to a normal
position, so as to keep the ship on an even keel and prevent it from
performing a loop in the air.
The landing was easily made, notwithstanding the wind, and they found
they were near Commercy, west of the Meuse, about thirty-five miles
south of Verdun. A terrific rainstorm then followed, which lasted more
than an hour.
"Were you ever in a rainstorm while flying?"
"Never but once," replied the lieutenant, "and that was in thunder and
lightning, too, which was the most terrific thing I ever went through."
"Tell us about it!" said Alfred.
"I almost shudder at it when I stop to think of the hour when I faced
the lightning right where it is made," said the lieutenant. "It was in
the second week of the war, just east of Rheims, when the Germans were
sweeping across the frontier and had passed Charleville. I had a
double-seated Nieuporte, with an assistant handling the machine, while I
was making observations.
"Shortly after getting the first glimpse of the moving German columns I
noticed that it was growing dark, but when you are aloft that is not
noticed as quickly as when on terra firma. The great hosts of Germans
interested me intensely, and we kept on until I estimated that we were
fully ten miles behind the advance columns, when my assistant shouted
through the tube: 'Look back; what are your orders?'
"I saw that to continue would be disastrous, so I gave the order to
turn. This gave us the first opportunity to determine our speed, or, to
state it more accurately, the speed of the wind, for you will recall
that when we turned this afternoon, we seemed to stand still above the
town.
"Within ten minutes of the time I turned the machine to the west the
first heavy rolling clouds seemed to meet us. The earth was quickly
blotted from sight, and heavy rumblings were heard, but no indications
of lightning. I knew that heavy black clouds were dangerous, and they
were so black that it was impossible to see my assistant, three feet
distant.
"I could not decide what to do, so I finally shouted through the tube:
'keep on a straight course to the west,' for I knew that to land at that
point would bring us right into the great German column. There was no
rain falling at the time, but the cloud was like the densest mist. The
machine was still moving,--that is, the engine was merrily humming, and
my assistant's voice startled me as he shouted: 'There is something
wrong; compass out of order.'
"During the flashes I could see him pointing to the compass, and I
leaned over, and caught a glimpse of the dial. The pointer was swinging
around violently. The lightning now seemed to be incessant, and the
rumbling of the thunders was weird beyond description. Sometimes,
immediately after a vivid flash, a thick spray would deluge our faces."
"What were you thinking about while all this was happening?" asked
Alfred.
"What impressed me most was the wonderful difference between the
appearance of those electrical discharges when viewed in the usual way
from the surface of the earth. I did not notice any forked lightning,
nor did it show itself in streaks, darting hither and thither. It seemed
to be more like balls of fire, suddenly appearing here and there, and
when each ball burst into flame, there would be a crackling sound, at
any rate, so it seemed, for I dared not stop the engine.
"But the most remarkable thing was the odor which was present. It had a
pungent smell, not at all unpleasant, but decidedly exhilarating in its
effects. I suppose we were taking in ample doses of laughing gas, for I
assure you that after the first experience, we had no particular sense
of danger. It was most fascinating, and I felt as though I was being
raised up on my seat. Occasionally I would try to figure out how this
would end, but on the whole it was devoid of terror."
"How long were you in the storm?" asked Ralph.
"Well, I was so fascinated that I had forgotten to look at the watch. I
held it before me, and soon noticed that it was nearly five o'clock, so
that we were over an hour and a half in the thick of it. During this
experience what gave me the queerest feeling was the compass, the needle
of which could not be seen, it swung around with such velocity. Were we
going with the storm, or not? That was the thing uppermost in my mind.
If we were being carried along we might be even in Belgium by the time I
noted the watch.
"Then I tried an experiment. I ordered my assistant to make a turning
movement. This convinced me that we were really going with the storm,
and were now far over into German territory. Strange as it may seem, we
were not thrown hither and thither; the ship sailed along smoothly. I
feared to make the next experiment,--that is, to direct the machine
toward the earth, for, while everything worked perfectly, I had a
feeling that it would be safer to reach the earth with an engine running
than with a dead one. Slowly the machine went down; it seemed to get
lighter, but now the thunder came in sharp claps, and the form of the
lightning changed. I could distinctly see what the observer sees when on
the earth, long, zig-zag streaks multiplied a hundred times more than
anything I ever witnessed while on earth."
"How high were you up when you got out of the clouds?" asked Ralph.
"Seven hundred and seventy meters (about 2,900 feet), as indicated on
the barometer."
"Could you see the earth?" asked Alfred.
"No, indeed; the rain was pouring down; it was splashing over us and all
about us, and I signalled to go up again, and we soon entered the
clouds; but during all this time the needle of the compass kept
spinning, so that we knew nothing of the direction we were traveling."
"But couldn't you tell which way the wind was blowing?" asked Ralph.
"No; we were moving with the great air current, sometimes sailing with
it, and at other times against it, but with nothing below to indicate
the direction. We could not possibly say whether we were going north or
south."
"I think if I should be in the air and couldn't see the earth I would
know a way to tell which way the storm was moving," said Ralph.
"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 would be
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, and
the 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 the volumes 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."