Air Service Boys Flying for Victory; Or, Bombing the Last German Stronghold

by E. J. Craine

  CHAPTER VI

  CLEANING OUT MACHINE-GUN NESTS

  "A BUSY day ahead of us, Jack!" Tom remarked the next morning, afterthey had breakfasted and were getting themselves ready for going up.

  Early though the hour was it seemed as though the whole inferno ofterrible noises had broken out much louder than on the preceding day.From every quarter men could be heard shouting; while detachments ofinfantry were hurrying off with orders to reach certain points beforenightfall, no matter what obstacles they had to surmount.

  The big guns were "talking," and there began to be heard the chatter ofdeadly machine-guns; the deep-toned explosion of shells, and thepeculiar sound of the German minnewurfer, used with such effect in theformer trench battles that the Boche still clung to it through all theretreat.

  Then there were close around them planes starting off with a rush,pilots and observers gaily waving their hands to comrades stilldetained, but just as eager to go as though it were a picnic to whichthey were thus invited instead of a possible repast with the GrimReaper.

  "What makes you think it's bound to be any different from yesterday,Tom?" demanded the one spoken to, as he adjusted a strap, and took alast critical survey of the more important wire stays of his machineupon which so much depended.

  "Oh! not different, only more of it," Tom explained. "On our scoutingexpedition last night we found that the Huns have a series of extrastrong nests fixed for us to-day. We're to arrange with the batteriesfor signaling in regard to these, for they would take too big a toll ofthe boys if rushed like the common variety, where there's only one gunand a couple of Boches to handle it."

  "Glad to hear it," snapped Jack. "So far neither of us has had the goodluck to locate a big hornets' nest. I hope our chance comes to-day. I'vealways wanted to see how that game worked."

  "Well, perhaps you'll know more about it when we meet to-night, which itis to be hoped will come about," said Tom, a bit seriously.

  Indeed, in those strenuous times none in the army could be at allcertain he would be in the land of the living a few hours ahead. Inparticular the daring air pilots who so often took great hazards were inperil. Yet the men went about their duties with apparently light hearts.

  "Here's Harry!" exclaimed Jack, a moment afterwards, as a wideawakelooking young fellow stopped for a minute near them, being on the way tohis hangar in company with his assistant.

  Harry Leroy had become very friendly with the two air service boys,although they had not known him until long after reaching France. But hewas a genial boy, known to be an unusually clever air pilot and well onthe way to being cited as an American ace, for he had now disabled hisquota of enemy machines.

  "They tell me we're going to make a big dent in the Boche lines to-day,fellows!" he sang out, with one of his genial smiles. "Our commander hasa programme laid out that's said to be pretty ambitious. Some of us areeven hoping it may turn out to be the real start for the Rhine, and thatwe'll clean up this old Argonne region pretty soon now."

  "Slow but sure is our policy these days, Harry," Tom remarked. "It takesa heap of time, and makes a hole in our reserves; but the work is doneso thoroughly that it'll stay done. And soon we'll be out of the woods."

  "The boys are longing for that day to come," said Harry, about to starton once more. "They're just sick and tired of this kind of fighting.Wait till we get Fritz out in the open, and you'll see how well rush himback like hot cakes! So long, both of you. Here's wishing you the bestof luck and another notch in your stick by nightfall."

  Of course Tom had secured another observer in place of the poor fellowwho had been so badly injured on that other flight of his. His arm, too,had healed.

  Shortly afterwards the air service boys received word to start, andalong with four other planes mounted upward like birds on the wing.

  So far as appearances went the scene below them did not differmaterially from the preceding day. There was the same vast stretch ofgrim forest known as the Argonne, with occasional openings here andthere, "breathing spots," they might be called. These marked sites offarms, timber or cutting authorized at some past day by the Frenchgovernment, that controlled the wonderful tract of woods, possibly thelargest in all France. Smoke was already rolling upward in great volumeswhile the air pulsated with the fearful crash of every imaginable typeof gun, both large and small. As the day wore on all this was bound toincrease greatly, the impetuous Americans pushing forward and wrestingrod after rod of the forest from the enemy, paying the price without amurmur, but grimly determined.

  Jack having attained the required altitude commenced "fishing." That washis way of describing the means employed for learning where the Hunswere lying in wait, ready to pour in a deadly machine-gun fire on thefirst detachment of Yankees that came along.

  The darting plane would dive down close to the tops of the tall trees,and thus offer such a tantalizing bait that the concealed Hun gunners,unable to resist the temptation, were likely to shoot at the cruisingmachine.

  Of course this would expose their secret hiding-place, but inaccuratelylocated in the darkness the night before, and it was the business of theobserver to signal his discovery back to those who were on the watch.

  The consequence would be that instead of making a frontal attack on thatparticular nest, the infantry would resort to Indian tactics, making aflank movement that would carry them past, then closing in from therear. At a given signal some of their mates would make a hostiledemonstration in front to chain the attention of the gunners, whileothers would creep up so close from the rear that they would be able toget both men.

  Of course this meant that the venturesome fliers would be takingadditional risks. When that machine-gun should start to pepper theirplane they were likely to be struck by one or more of the shower ofmissiles coming hissing up like enraged hornets. What matter, when theywere accepting chances just as desperate every minute of the time theyremained aloft?

  Jack and his assistant, Morgan, found themselves busily engaged insideof ten minutes. They swooped so low that suddenly there was a burst offire, and bullets commenced to cut through both wings of their plane.The body had been sheathed in metal that would serve to ward off most ofthis hail, but despite this they took many chances of a mishap.

  Immediately Morgan noted the exact spot from which the firing came, sohe could locate it in sending out his signal of warning. Jack meanwhilewas doing his part, dodging in zigzag curves in all directions in orderto baffle the aim of the Hun gunners.

  Then, too, the trees helped greatly to conceal them from the observationof the enemy below; so that the firing kept up for a very brief timeonly. But their trick had succeeded. The Boches dared not come out fromtheir place of concealment lest they be discovered and shot down by thestealthily advancing Americans. Perhaps they were even chained there,as frequently happened.

  In consequence they had to cower under their shelter and wait until,later on, without warning, there would come loud shouts from the front,and when they craned their necks to catch the first glimpse of the foeshots from the rear would clean up that nest.

  Morgan started with his signal work immediately after they had climbedto the proper altitude, where they might work without being in too greatdanger from the "Archies," or anti-aircraft guns.

  As soon as he had a response, and knew that his directions wereaccurately noted, he announced the fact to Jack. They were then ready tobegin all over and start "fishing" again.

  It was very exciting work, and Jack Parmly gloried in it. Though he hadto take additional chances in order to tempt the Hun gunners to betraytheir cunningly arranged coverts, there was also a satisfaction inknowing that by so doing he and his assistant were saving many preciouslives of the infantry regiments down in the forest that had proved agraveyard for thousands.

  A second time did they get a "bite." Again was the retreat conducted inthe midst of a rattling volley, with hurtling missiles burning the airall around them, as well as beating a lively tattoo on the armored partsof their plane.


  After that they flew higher, in the hope that some enterprising Bocheflier, seeing their challenge, would come over to give them battle. Forhalf an hour, they kept this up, and then, as they tempted forth noadversary, determined to drop down once more and root out a third nestbefore going in for the noonday meal.

  "They're at it hammer and tongs to-day for fair!" called out Morgan, ashe used his binoculars and picked out spots far below where there seemedto be open fighting going on. He could discover bodies of German troopsbeing rushed forward and then falling back with decimated ranks before afierce flame of shot and shell poured in by Yankee batteries.

  "Getting desperate, that's what!" announced Jack, starting a dip that bystages would take them down once more into the dangerous quarter oftreetops under which lurked the deadly foe with his thousands ofrapid-fire guns.

  Other planes were in sight here and there, carrying out similar tacticswith more or less success, according to the daring of the pilot intempting the Huns beyond their power to resist. Jack determined to passfurther on and see what he could unearth in a new quarter.

  What he and his chum had been talking of that very morning was stillfresh in his mind. How he would like to discover one of those unusualnests where half a dozen or more gun crews lurked, ready to hold up thatentire sector of the advancing line, so the American troops would beunable to reach their objective for that day at least.

  So it was in the hope of attaining this end that he now flew to anothersection of the forest which he had been desirous all morning ofvisiting, under the impression that it might yield the bag to which heaspired in his search for game.

  As they circled over the tree tops Morgan was turning his glasses to thebest advantage. Jack kept trying to cover the ground systematically, andyet making numerous quick jumps so as to disconcert the enemy should asudden fierce burst of firing announce that a nest had been located.

  All at once Morgan gave a loud cry. It seemed to spell victory, and Jackinstantly called out:

  "Struck oil, have you, Felix? Where away does it lie?"

  "Look down to the left and you'll just glimpse what seems to be thestone base of an old abandoned windmill, I think, Jack. All overgrownwith weeds and brush, it is too. I saw a number of men moving about,and some of them were crouching back of their biggest machine-guns. Thisis one of those jumbo forts we've heard of; no mistake about it either."

  "Grab off the location to a dot then, Felix, and we'll see what can bedone for those waiting Yankee batteries!" snapped Jack, greatly excited,as well as pleased, by their important discovery. "Let me know when youhave your landmarks, and I'll elevate, so we can get in touch with thebattery observer."

  "It's the king-pin of all their nests, Jack, a regular bouncer, I tellyou!" cried the other, using his glasses again to advantage.

  "All right then," the pilot assured him, "we'll see that their name ismud before much longer. Ready, Felix?"

  Instead of giving Jack the reply which the other expected the observergave a sudden startled yell.

  "They've got us trapped, Jack! Sure they have! Look up!" came hiswarning shout, and as the pilot craned his neck to obey he discovered noless than three big German Gotha battleplanes hovering over them,waiting to engage them in a most unequal combat.