THE WHIR OF WINGS
Shortly after a bugle call the following order was posted in the
general mess hall for all concerned to read.
"Members of Bombing Squadron No. - will carry out the following order.
10 a.m., 12 midnight, 2 a.m. are the respective times to start. At
each time three machines, each carrying eight 25 pound bombs, will bomb
respectively R-----, C------, L------. Secrecy is imperative. Each
member of the three squads thus assigned will be ready at Hangars No.
-, No. -, No. - at times mentioned above."
Meantime each aviator, with his observer, had been privately notified
by the Sergeant in person. This was an every-day operation order and
was taken as a matter of course. These night raids are mostly for the
purpose of keeping the Boche busy and nervous after hard days and
nights in the front trenches, thus supposedly lowering his morale.
Usually the points thus selected are the shell-torn villages back of
the front, where Fritz has been sent for a brief period of rest before
being sent to the front again. About the time he lies down in the
half-ruined house that is his billet, and dreams of home and conquering
peace, a bomb falls inside. The walls are further shattered, some of
his comrades killed or maimed, he perhaps among them. Other bombs
fall, heavy explosions result, and Fritz finds that his night's rest is
lost in general turmoil. This continues night after night and the
damage to German morale is enormous.
From the point of view of the air-service, things are different. These
night raids are a matter of course with the pilots. It is part of the
regular work.
When Blaine and Erwin climbed into the Bleriot, bombs already stowed,
and it was wheeled out in front of the hangar, everything was very
quiet. A minute later they were climbing up into the inky darkness at
the appointed signal, the only noises being the whirrings of their own
and two other two machines appointed for the two A. M. hour.
Watching for the signal of the leader of the squad, at the right time
they headed for the further front.
Over the trenches star-shells from the infantry could be seen. Under
direction they headed over No-Man's-Land, keeping at sufficient
altitude, hugging the darkness, avoiding glints of light, dodging
occasional searchlights, and all practically without a word spoken.
"You've been out here before, Lafe"' said Orris at last. "How much
further are we going?"
"Be there in two minutes. Keep easy! I'm going lower. Get your bombs
ready."
Silently Erwin obeyed. Below lay blackness, relieved at one point by a
few dots of light that marked the ruins of the hamlet on which they
were to let loose the bombs. So far no sign of life in the air or
below appeared.
The three machines in this detachment had scattered in order to
distribute their supply of bombs at a given signal from the leader. In
this night raid an escorting fleet that usually accompanied the daytime
raids was omitted. There was little need.
"Now!" cautioned Blaine to Orris and the latter began to drop his first
sheaf, a rather heavy one as the bombs weighed twenty-five pounds each.
Others were at work also and the village below, already in half ruins,
began to detonate with sharp explosions, lurid flashings and an uproar
of human cries. It was evident that the raiders had struck the right
spot.
For some minutes the work went on, Blaine swooping still lower, until
glimpses of hurried scurryings of the soldiers thus rudely disturbed
were mingled with the larger glares from the continuous explosions.
Orris Erwin, through though smaller and slighter physically, worked
away until the last sheaf was exhausted.
Then, and only then, the scene below was illuminated by the flash and
roar of hostile artillery. A shell exploded with a deafening report so
near their Bleriot that it was evident that the firer had sighted them
during Lafe's last lower swoop.
On the instant Blaine pressed a trigger, elevating the sharp nose of
the machine. As the deflected planes responded to sundry manipulations
at certain levers and they began to climb spirally into the upper air,
the powerful engines, exerting greater strength, shot them rapidly
upward where height and obscurity lessened the danger of further shots.
"Well, Archie came near getting us then, eh?" This from Lafe.
Receiving no answer, he glanced aside. What was his dismay to see
Erwin's slender figure drooping nervelessly, his head sinking, and the
emptied sheaf of bombs sprawling neglected in his lap!
"You're hit, Orry? For God's sake buck up! I've still got to climb or
they'll get us yet."
Clamping his knee round the wheel, he managed with one hand to pull
Orris forward and sideways, so that the boy's curly head, now capless,
lay against his thigh. With one arm half around and upon that
senseless head, holding the slight frame from slipping, he still
manipulated the alert Bleriot, that responded instantly to each human
spur with a mobility that was almost life-like.
The two other machines had vanished in the darkness, doubtless cleaving
the higher air strata in a backward flight to the home aerodrome, which
was now the goal of all. Meantime searchlights were flashing here,
there, yonder through the inky sky. The swift reports of anti-aircraft
guns split the night's silence in a most disconcerting manner. Erwin
groaned and twisted his body.
"Stay still, Orry! We must 'a' been the last to quit, and they're
making things hot back westward."
Here a blinding gleam of light flashed athwart his eyes and , letting
go of Erwin, he darted aside suddenly on a differing course. Erwin's
body crumpled into a heap. A heavier man might have toppled over the
edge, perhaps hanging helplessly at peril of falling out, unless held
by the straps which many old aviators neglect. As it was, the
nerveless lad was held by the high rim of the opening that fenced them
both in. For the moment the boy was safe.
Giving his whole attention to the machine, Blaine zigzagged and dodged,
mounting ever and ever higher. Yet his trend was unavoidably towards
the east, further within the enemy lines.
"For the present I've got to go this way," he thought. "I hope Lex and
Milt got away west before those 'cussed Archies broke loose. We'll
have to stay quiet until this ruction below settles down." Lex and
Milt were the pilots of the two remaining machines of this, the third
and last section of the bombing squadron of that night.
"Orry! Oh, Orry! Wakeup! Aren't you all right yet?"
These and other adjurations Blaine would make from time to time. A
chill came over him more than once as he wondered if Erwin would not
recover. Once only as Lafe moved his own leg, pressing it unduly hard
against the other, Erwin gave another groan.
A whir as of wings sounded in his rear, and Blaine became aware of
shadowy movements through the faintly growing light in the east.
Undoubtedly it must be a hostile machine. He had been spotted as he
flew eastward. In addition to the now waning fire from the Archies,
planes were now out after him. Divining this, Blaine wheeled, put on
more power and flow towards the northwest, the German keeping after him
at increasing speed. As the light increased the clinging shadow in the
east grew more plain. Whoever it was, the pursuer was determined not
to be shaken off. Soon he would begin firing.
At this junction Erwin gave Blaine's leg an undeniable kick. He was
at last reviving. The pilot leaned towards his bunkie.
"Say, Orry, are you coming to at last?"
Another kick, evidently part of a struggle by Orris to right himself.
Blaine saw the German making the first spiral upward, in an effort to
attain a position suitable for using the machine gun. Blaine therefore
zigzagged more to westward, thereby throwing the reviving Erwin into an
easier position. At this an easier position. At this Blaine was
pleased to see his friend look wonderingly at him and the bowed head
slightly raise itself.
"Lay still right where you are, Orry," murmured Lafe. "There's a Boche
after us. We've got out of Archie's range, but I've one of their
planes on our heels. Whist! Git down lower! He's going to fire. If
he does, I - I'll crumple up. We'll land and - and -"
Further talk ceased as the simultaneous rattle and spatter of opposing
machine guns made talk impracticable. Blaine was below, the Boche
above, each whirling, diving, spiraling as dexterous pilots do in such
conflict.
True to his promise amid the first exchange of shots, watching both
Erwin's recovery and the German, now closer than ever, Blaine concealed
himself.
And now, seeing that Orris was quite revived, and following Blaine's
counsel, they presented to the German only a collapsed form, half
leaning as if hit again. Blaine, almost out of sight, steered
groundward.
"Are you strong enough now to take my place?"
"I -- I think so," returned the still reviving Erwin. "What you going
to do -- land?"
At this juncture the machine hit the ground in a decreasing glide,
while Blaine, half rising, pitched forward as if dead.
"Take the machine, Orry," Blaine had said. "I'm dead; you're wounded."
Knowing that Blaine had his plans laid, Erwin followed. Then the Boche,
feeling pretty good over the idea that he had captured an enemy machine
with two men in it, also alighted from his own a few rods distant. To
his view there appeared one man dead and another wounded.
Covering Erwin with his revolver as he sat leaning back ghastly and
still bleeding from the shrapnel that had at first struck him down, the
German eyed his apparently helpless victims.
"Get oudt!" he snapped in rather poor English to Erwin.
The latter started to obey, still covered by the pistol at his head.
Suddenly Blaine, who had tumbled to the ground at the first landing,
now sat up, his own revolver pointed straight at the German.
"Throw down that gun!" he announced in clear, steady tones. "Quick!
No nonsense, Fritz!"
One brief stare. Then, realizing that he had been outgeneraled, he
sullenly obeyed. To his further amazement, Erwin, now quite recovered,
rose up, got out, and though weak tied the Boche hard and fast under
Blaine's direction.
"Now, Orry," said Lafe, looking his comrade over carefully, "are you
right enough to take our machine back?"
"Bet your sweet life I am!" Orry's face was still pale, while blood
was coagulated in his curly short hair. "I'm all right, Lafe. What
are we going to do?"
"We'll put this chap in his own machine, and I'll take it and him back."
"You mean provided Fritzy lets us get through safe."
"Und zat ve wond do! Forshtay?" This from the now sullen German
standing by bound hand and foot, yet mentally antagonistic still.
"Don't you worry, bo," said Blaine, coolly picking up the man, a follow
of no small weight, and lifting, him into his own machine, a big Taube
of many horse-power. "That is, if you've got petrol enough."
This was assured beyond doubt by subsequent examination. The German
safely stowed, Erwin and Blaine made a hurried yet accurate inspection
of both planes, and Orris at once started westward. Blaine was about
to follow when horse hoofs were heard beyond a hedge not far away. The
German's eyes flashed. He divined a forcible rescue. He began to
yell, but with a swift move Blaine gagged him with his own bandanna
'kerchief.
The German struggled but Blaine had tied him also to the posts
supporting the hollow chamber wherein pilot and observer sat, and now
springing in himself, he started off.
Right then the heads of a column of cavalry debouched in the field.
The roar of roar of the Taube filled the air and in an instant they saw
what was happening. By this time Orris was well up in the air and
still spiraling higher. The Taube, with which Blaine was already
partly familiar through prior captured machines among the Allies, was
making its first upward curve, when a thought came to Blaine. A ruse!
The German lay still helpless, bound and gagged. Though struggling
with his bonds, his eyes were spitting anger.
In its case, with pulley attached, was a small flag of one of the
larger German aerial squadrons. Blaine plucked it forth, jerked the
pulley cord, and there unrolled before all eyes the Imperial eagle,
with certain other designs, all on a black background, and with a
death's head in white at each corner. It was two or three feet square,
and as it floated from one of the poles sustaining the biplanes, no one
in the clear morning light could mistake its meaning.
Blaine himself was not sure as to the flag. But it really was the one
used only by a certain squadron especially endorsed and. supported by
the Kaiser and the Royal House of Hohenzollern and of which the Crown
Prince was the special patron. By the time Blaine was above the
treetops, some twenty or thirty horsemen had debouched into the sheep
pasture where these happenings took place. They were lancers and,
mistaking the real nature of this maneuver, every lance was depressed
in salute and a horse shout rose up that sounded much like a series of
Hochs with Kaiser at the end.
"Holy smoke!" said Blaine, getting the machine gun in shooting trim
with one hand while manipulating the controls with the other. "Say,
Fritzy," to the snarling German at his feet, who fairly writhed
at his bounds and gag, "your folks think I'm off after those English or
Yankee schwein! Savy?"
But here a sudden change came over the scene.