A FIGHT AND A LANDING IN BELGIUM
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 at convenient 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.
[Illustration: _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. As the 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 gun mounted 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.
[Illustration: _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 was no
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, but so, 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.