CHAPTER VIII
AN AEROPLANE AMIDST THE LIGHTNINGS
Two days after the occurrence related in the preceding chapter, thefirst 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 nowrecovered, was instrumental in securing the assignment of the boys tohis care.
"Then we can go along?" asked Ralph, with some doubts and misgivings, asthey 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 themachine," said the lieutenant.
The boys laughed, for outside of a few trinkets, and underclothing, theyhad nothing of importance to take along. They remarked that it wassingular how few things seemed to be really needed, traveling, as theydid, 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 squadronformation and manoeuver for an hour, and afterwards each is to make forthe station on his own hook."
Shortly thereafter the first signal was given. The machine was pushedout and lined up. At the second signal the machines were mounted. At thethird tap the motors began to hum, and soon there was a movement in thewhole line. It was a splendid spectacle, as the machines left theground, and rose majestically toward the west, the direction from whichthe wind was blowing.
The manoeuvers were particularly interesting to the boys, and thelieutenant led his section in the formation during the entire practiceuntil the captain's flag on the great Duperdessun indicated that themachines were free. After making a great sweep to the west thelieutenant turned to the left, encircling the town, and pointed dueeast.
Before they had proceeded fifteen kilometers, something happened to theengine, 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 volplaneto the earth. Sighting a considerable town to the left, which waslocated south of a canal, the machine was directed toward a smooth, openfield, not far from the environs, and after landing they learned thatthe place was Ligny-en-Barrois.
It was found that through some accident the petrol tank had started aleak, and that the liquid was slowly oozing out during the flight,without giving the first indication until the engines failed. It wasjust the kind of an accident which necessitated the removal of thereservoir in order to make the proper repair.
"Which is the fastest machine?" asked Alfred, while they were waitingfor 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. "Thedifferent machines are used for various purposes, and while speed isimportant, there are other things just as necessary."
"What other things?" asked Alfred.
"Well, bomb-dropping for one thing; then, some machines are betteradapted than others for directing artillery fire, or for using machineguns," said the lieutenant.
"The captain has a Caudron," said Alfred, "and he doesn't use a gun onit either."
"No; the Caudron is admirably adapted for observations, and is usedalmost wholly in France for directing artillery fire," answered thelieutenant.
"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 usefor photographing purposes,--that is, most of the Maurice Farman typesare so used," answered the lieutenant.
"Why is that?" asked Alfred.
"For two reasons; first, because you will see we can get a good viewdownward; 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 heavyloads, and are used as bomb-dropping machines, as their fuselages areespecially well adapted to carry and release the missiles," said thelieutenant.
"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 andZeppelins, 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 thelieutenant.
Within an hour the reservoir was again in position, and there was nodelay in again mounting into the air. "We might take a little trip dueeast, as far as Toul, and north of that point we may have the privilegeof seeing some of the enemy," remarked the lieutenant, as they mountedthe machine.
A beautiful silver thread now appeared on the landscape to the east, asthey reached their greatest altitude. Looking back there was a smallerthread to the west, and, apparently, the same distance from theirviewpoint. They thus had the opportunity of seeing, at one glance, twoof the most noted rivers which figure in the great war,--the Meuse tothe east, and the Marne in the west, these streams at this point beingwithin thirty miles of each other.
It was, probably, imprudent for them to take an out-of-the-way course toreach their destination, but the temptation was very great. The sun wasstill shining brightly when they started from Ligny-en-Barrois, but itwas now growing dark from the overspreading clouds, and as soon as Toulwas sighted the lieutenant turned the machine northward.
To the west it could now be seen that the threatening clouds were comingup, 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 theleft.
"Why, I believe he is going right into it!" remarked Alfred in amazementto Ralph.
But the officer now made a wide swinging turn. A view of the heavensindicated that the storm was an extensive one, and that the speed of thewind had increased most alarmingly, for, in looking down they seemed tostand still over the little hamlet beneath them. The wind, into whichthey 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. Bysetting the control lever so as to depress the nose of the machine theyrapidly descended, the lever being intermittently drawn back to a normalposition, so as to keep the ship on an even keel and prevent it fromperforming a loop in the air.
The landing was easily made, notwithstanding the wind, and they foundthey were near Commercy, west of the Meuse, about thirty-five milessouth of Verdun. A terrific rainstorm then followed, which lasted morethan an hour.
"Were you ever in a rainstorm while flying?"
"Never but once," replied the lieutenant, "and that was in thunder andlightning, 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 facedthe lightning right where it is made," said the lieutenant. "It was inthe second week of the war, just east of Rheims, when the Germans weresweeping across the frontier and had passed Charleville. I had adouble-seated Nieuporte, with an assistant handling the machine, while Iwas making observations.
"Shortly after getting the first glimpse of the moving German columns Inoticed that it was growing dark, but when you are aloft that is notnoticed as quickly as when on terra firma. The great hosts of Germansinterested me intensely, and we kept on until I estimated that we werefully ten miles behind the advance columns, when my assistant shoutedthroug
h the tube: 'Look back; what are your orders?'
"I saw that to continue would be disastrous, so I gave the order toturn. This gave us the first opportunity to determine our speed, or, tostate it more accurately, the speed of the wind, for you will recallthat when we turned this afternoon, we seemed to stand still above thetown.
"Within ten minutes of the time I turned the machine to the west thefirst heavy rolling clouds seemed to meet us. The earth was quicklyblotted from sight, and heavy rumblings were heard, but no indicationsof lightning. I knew that heavy black clouds were dangerous, and theywere so black that it was impossible to see my assistant, three feetdistant.
"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 thatpoint would bring us right into the great German column. There was norain falling at the time, but the cloud was like the densest mist. Themachine was still moving,--that is, the engine was merrily humming, andmy assistant's voice startled me as he shouted: 'There is somethingwrong; compass out of order.'
"During the flashes I could see him pointing to the compass, and Ileaned over, and caught a glimpse of the dial. The pointer was swingingaround violently. The lightning now seemed to be incessant, and therumbling 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?" askedAlfred.
"What impressed me most was the wonderful difference between theappearance of those electrical discharges when viewed in the usual wayfrom the surface of the earth. I did not notice any forked lightning,nor did it show itself in streaks, darting hither and thither. It seemedto be more like balls of fire, suddenly appearing here and there, andwhen each ball burst into flame, there would be a crackling sound, atany rate, so it seemed, for I dared not stop the engine.
"But the most remarkable thing was the odor which was present. It had apungent smell, not at all unpleasant, but decidedly exhilarating in itseffects. I suppose we were taking in ample doses of laughing gas, for Iassure you that after the first experience, we had no particular senseof danger. It was most fascinating, and I felt as though I was beingraised up on my seat. Occasionally I would try to figure out how thiswould 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. Iheld it before me, and soon noticed that it was nearly five o'clock, sothat we were over an hour and a half in the thick of it. During thisexperience what gave me the queerest feeling was the compass, the needleof which could not be seen, it swung around with such velocity. Were wegoing 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 Inoted the watch.
"Then I tried an experiment. I ordered my assistant to make a turningmovement. This convinced me that we were really going with the storm,and were now far over into German territory. Strange as it may seem, wewere not thrown hither and thither; the ship sailed along smoothly. Ifeared to make the next experiment,--that is, to direct the machinetoward the earth, for, while everything worked perfectly, I had afeeling that it would be safer to reach the earth with an engine runningthan with a dead one. Slowly the machine went down; it seemed to getlighter, but now the thunder came in sharp claps, and the form of thelightning changed. I could distinctly see what the observer sees when onthe earth, long, zig-zag streaks multiplied a hundred times more thananything 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 onthe barometer."
"Could you see the earth?" asked Alfred.
"No, indeed; the rain was pouring down; it was splashing over us and allabout us, and I signalled to go up again, and we soon entered theclouds; but during all this time the needle of the compass keptspinning, 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 withit, and at other times against it, but with nothing below to indicatethe direction. We could not possibly say whether we were going north orsouth."
"I think if I should be in the air and couldn't see the earth I wouldknow 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 beblowing, wouldn't it?" replied Alfred.
"Quite true, that would be the case on the earth; but it would not be soup where the raindrops are being formed; there the little particles ofwater move along with the wind stream; but that is not all; when you arein a machine in a great wind movement, the ship must move through thewind 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 dropsappear to be coming down at an angle, and this, in itself would besufficient to deceive you, or, at any rate prevent you from determiningthe 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 Iagain ordered the assistant to go down two hundred meters. It was nowevident that the storm was abating. Soon we again passed out of the rainclouds, and the assistant shouted that he had reached the levelindicated. 'Go lower,' I shouted. As we did so it grew lighter, and webegan to feel a relief. 'Lower yet,' I ordered. At 600 meters the rainpoured 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 whitepatch, and then another. This was puzzle to me. 'Go still lower,' Ishouted, and down went the machine. Then we saw some white houses, and Ialmost shouted for joy. But where could we be? We were passing over acity, a city located within the bend of a large river. I racked my brainto find out where and what it could be. If it was the river Meuse itmight be Verdun, or Sedan, or Charleville. We were forced to go downstill lower, and then I could see forts, and I felt sure we were overSedan.
"We were even then going east. I was so agitated that I could hardlyspeak, and motioned to my assistant to turn around. He understood, andthe ship was swung around; we were now going right into the blindingrain, but we were fifty miles behind the German advance columns, and inorder to enable us to make more rapid progress I told the assistant tochange the course nearly due south. We were flying very low, certainlynot over a thousand feet.
"Thus far we had not seen a soldier, or any evidences of warfare. In ahalf hour we sighted another stream. My heart leaped with joy, for I wassure it must be the Aisne. To assure myself of this we followed thestream for twenty kilometers, and then the forests of Argonne came intosight, thus assuring me of the position. I knew that the army of theCrown 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 wasabout to go still lower, when I heard a boom,--several of them.
"This startled me, you may be sure. 'Up, up!' I shouted. The machineobeyed. We rose to an altitude of eight hundred meters, then suddenlythe engine stopped. My assistant turned and shouted: 'We have nopetrol.' I crawled back and tested the tank. It was empty. 'Volplane tothe south,' I said. It was the only thing I could do. Now that theengine was silent the sounds from the earth were startling. There wasterrific firing to the right and left, and all about us; but we must godown; there was no help for that.
"Soon the earth again came in sight, and then the location of thebatteries was made out by the volumes of smoke, which could be seen ateach volley. My assistant tried to hold up the machine as long aspossible, but we were now down to 300 meters, then the barometerregistered 250. We both noticed a large, apparently smooth field, andthe final vo
lplane began. We landed a hundred feet from a first-linetrench, and although the Germans made it hot for us for about fifteenminutes we were soon able to reach the laterals and thus escape theirfire. But the machine was in a bad condition when we rescued it thatnight. It was literally shot full of holes. What is left of it is now inthe end warehouse where the scraps are kept."
The Boy Volunteers with the French Airmen Page 8
