CHAPTER XVII
FLYING FOR VICTORY
BOTH Tom and Jack could look back to previous experiences in bombing theenemy. They had taken part in excursions that occupied a part of amoonlight night; trips that sometimes had carried them across theborder, and to Metz; once they had gone even as far as the Rhine up inthe region of Coblenz, where later on Pershing's army was fated to beposted as a guard over the beaten Huns.
But on those occasions their work had been of a different character fromthat now given to them. They had seen munition plants go up in masses offlames after their bombs struck; watched important bridges beingshattered under the same gigantic force; felt a thrill of triumph when alucky shot exploded some huge munition dump, on which the enemy dependedfor his reserve store; exhausted their stock of bombs in demolishing animportant railway junction, so as to paralyze the transportation ofreinforcing bodies of German troops.
All those things they were familiar with, but from the great secrecythat had been maintained in connection with this enterprise they couldunderstand that it far exceeded them all in importance.
Their speed was such that they would be likely to reach their goalshortly, when all the suspense must be over. Jack wished that time hadcome. He was already trying to figure out just how Tom would plan so asto seem to become lost on the homeward flight, and thus be left to hisown resources for a time.
From this reverie he was aroused by seeing the signal flash from thepivot of the spearhead. It gave him an electrical sensation, though thatwas only to be expected.
Tom, too, knew the crisis was near at hand. He stared ahead, andbelieved he could even make out spectral objects moving this way andthat, like monstrous, though dimly seen, dragonflies, such as allcountry boys have watched many a time while on a warm summer day, lyingat rest on the bank of the "swimming hole."
From this it was evident that news of their probable coming had beensent on ahead, warning the defenders of the German fortress.
Still was the night as yet, but it would not be for long with thoseopposing air forces ready for a death grapple. While the tenbattleplanes, each piloted by a Yankee ace with a splendid record,engaged the flotilla of enemy aircraft, the bombers must be at theirmore humble but equally important business.
All had been arranged so that there might be the least possiblefriction, and no confusion. Each pilot and observer knew exactly what hewas to do, and every possible situation had been taken intoconsideration.
Then came the initial firing.
It seemed that one ambitious Boche airman, unable to wait until theoncoming Americans reached the formation arranged to resist theonslaught, had flown ahead and was now exhausting his puny reservoir ofmissiles against the solid phalanx.
The clatter became a roar as several of the raiders turned their guns onthe incautious Hun. Immediately his voice was stilled, and theflittering light dropping earthward, after the manner of a fallingrocket-stick, told what had happened to him.
Before he landed his machine had burst into flames, as the escapingpetrol caught fire. Jack considered that a good omen for their side.
"Fritz seems to be getting a rough deal on this particular night," hetold himself. "Already three of his planes have been destroyed, andseveral others have gone down out of control, with never a single losson the side of the Americans. Bully!"
But now the advance had reached the marked line where the rest of theHuns waited to engage the invaders. If they were dismayed by the tragicfate that had overtaken that rash pilot they did not show it, for theyattacked with a viciousness that Tom had never seen equalled in all hisexperience as a flier.
It was undoubtedly desperation that spurred the Boche on. He knew thatthese wonderful Americans, who his leaders had ridiculed in thebeginning, were foes not to be despised; that they had almost taken theentire Argonne; that they had actually threatened to commence thelong-talked of march on to Berlin.
So they attacked with fury, and the engagement soon became general.Right and left there was continual firing going on, as the giant planeswheeled and circled, shooting out flaming tongues like so many blastfurnaces in action.
The formation was not broken even then, each battleplane continuing tocover its individual bombing plane with the shelter of its wings, so tospeak, though at the same time fighting off the aggressors.
Of course the bombers were also fitted to ward off attack, each beingarmed with two machine-guns, one forward, and the other aft where theman who handled the bombs could manipulate it. Slower and much lessagile than the fighting planes, they were expected to defend themselvesbut not to attack.
The advance had slowed up, but not entirely stopped while the battle wasjoined. As yet no bomb had been slipped from its leash, for the rightmoment still held off.
Looking down Jack could see where the searchlights that sent suchbroadening streamers aloft were stationed. He could also make out a dimpile that must be the German fortress, strengthened particularly to holdup the Americans, even as that at Verdun had held up the Huns.
Let the "Archies" bark below and the shrapnel burst all around them asit pleased, no one in all that vast armada of the air was paying theslightest attention to such things. They all, in their carelessness ofdanger, seemed to themselves impervious to the storm of flying missiles.
The slower-moving bombing machines bore the brunt of this furiousonslaught, and Jack could tell that the wings of their plane were beingcut by the bullets.
It was almost a miracle that so far no one aboard any of the ten bigplanes seemed to have been struck; or if such a thing had happened theinjury did not appear to be serious. They continued to move forward asif all the Huns in Northern France, backed by every sort of gun thatcould hurl shrapnel aloft, would not be sufficient to stay theirprogress.
Presently, however, the formation was broken at a signal. To try tomaintain it any longer would be little short of suicidal, for thegunners below were getting their range better, and the bursting shellscame alarmingly close now.
Tom kept his eyes constantly about him. Each bomber tried to keep at agiven altitude in making the evolutions, since in that way they werebetter able to avoid a collision that would be fatal to both machines.
At last Tom caught his signal and as he headed straight for the spotover the fortress he gave Jack the sign. The bomb slipped from itssheath, and was instantly lost to sight in the smoky atmosphere below.
Already they had had their ears shocked by numerous discharges, asothers among the Americans shot their missile earthward. It was terribleto look down at that crisis in the attack. The whole world seemed onfire beneath them, what with the exploding bombs and the myriad flashescoming from the German guns at work.
Jack was disappointed because in this vast inferno he found it utterlyimpossible to tell where his special messenger struck. He knew, though,that he had been in a fair position for a hit when given the word, andon that account never found any reason to doubt but that it had given agood account of itself.
After delivering his fire Tom swept off to one side so as not tointerfere with another bomber who might occupy a higher level, and beadvancing to the attack.
Presently when the turn of the air service boys came again they would beready to send down the second "bundle of concentrated destructiveness";and later on there might be a "clean-up call" that would exhaust thestock carried by each plane.
Meanwhile, given a chance to look hastily around at other factorsconnected with the extensive engagement, Tom discovered that there hadbeen at least one victim besides the initial one.
A plane was dropping swiftly, swinging this way and that, turning overand over, and showing signs that the pilot's hand no longer controlledthe levers. He was unable to make out whether it was an enemy plane orone of their own convoy; but the doom of those who happened to be beltedto the seats was undoubtedly sealed.