Wings in the Spanish Legion by Lee Robinson

by Monte Herridge

  can, tightly wrapped with rags, caromed off

  get into their air force, before I came to the

  the hillside into their midst, scattered the fire

  Legion, but a washout in the army flying

  and plunked against the trembling body of

  school wasn’t enough recommendation to suit

  Norkoff.

  the leathernecks.”

  In the growing heat the little band IN UTTER disregard of the sudden storm of sought comfortable positions and moistened

  bullets over their heads from above,

  their dry lips from thinly sloshing canteens.

  everybody in the hole lunged for the can. Too

  Norkoff groaned, and the few drops of water

  well they knew what was in that bit of

  which Catozzi tried to pour down his throat

  apparent refuse.

  ran out the side of his mouth.

  With a supreme effort, Norkoff raised

  A shimmering halo radiated from the

  himself to a sitting posture, seized the can in

  glaring white garments of the twisted figures

  both hands and rolled over upon it. The next

  on the nearby desert. In the edge of the brown

  instant there was a sickening explosion under

  thicket a riderless horse foraged for something

  him, and with a sigh he stretched out on his

  incomprehensible to any but a hard-bitten face, his hands clawing for a moment at the

  Frontier Stories

  6

  hot sand.

  whose djellaba stuck out behind him like a Five living men emulated him under

  dirty tablecloth.

  that plunging sleet of lead. A lone Mauser

  The Riffians were decamping, horse

  answered as Catozzi worked his bolt furiously

  and foot, while over them swooped a low-

  from behind the boulder where he had hung amphibian biplane with the insignia of slumbered a minute before. One by one, his

  the Spanish Navy beside the bomb-racks on its

  comrades took up the fire as they worked to

  lower wings.

  vantage points. Gradually the enemy’s fire

  Around the hill swerved the machine,

  died out, and the cowled heads ceased their

  its pilot waving his hand and the legionarios

  bobbing over the dazzling summit.

  waving back. Out over the desert it swooped,

  “Another name engraved in the Book

  its machine gun spraying death among the

  of Gold,” murmured the lieutenant softly. scuttling tribesmen. When the last fluttering

  “Norkoff’s gone west.”

  djellaba was far beyond effective rifle range,

  “What do you say, fellows?” breathed

  the machine turned, settled lightly to the

  Aldridge, wriggling into his tunic and belts.

  ground and waddled toward the hill like an

  “Who wants to take the hill?”

  overgrown penguin.

  “I,” responded Catozzi, and the word

  was instantly echoed by Spaniard and Swede.

  “WONDER where the observer is?”

  There was a fluttering sound in the air,

  exclaimed Aldridge, his eyes on the glittering

  a rattling thump in the nearby brush, and five

  machine gun over the empty rear cockpit.

  heads went down as if pulled by a string.

  “How many men have you?” called the

  Crash! Sand, thorns and fragments of

  pilot, as the machine came to a purring halt.

  tin whistled overhead. Aldridge sprang to his

  “Six,” answered the lieutenant,

  lean height.

  hopping and sliding down the thorny slope.

  “Come on, gang!” he snapped.

  “Two at a time, then,” rejoined the

  Up the rocky slope he sprinted, the

  pilot. “It won’t take many minutes. I left my

  rattle of his comrades’ hobnails behind him.

  observer, in expectation of possible

  Through the clatter came a sharp cry from the

  passengers. Your call was relayed to us by

  lieutenant.

  radio, as we rounded Cape Quilate. We saw

  “Listen!”

  your next signal, broken off in the middle, and

  Three tattered figures flattened on the

  I took off by catapult while under way. I’m

  steep hillside. Three pairs of eyes glued from the Picador de Asturias. ”

  themselves to the summit. Three sweaty

  “Go ahead, two of you,” said Aldridge.

  forefingers tightened on slippery triggers. In

  “Carry Norkoff to the plane, and make the

  the hush that followed could be heard the dull

  lieutenant go with him on the first trip. Two of

  roar of an explosion beyond the hill, the us will watch from here, while they take off.”

  distant crackle of musketry and a steadily

  Jensen and Catozzi scrambled down

  rising drone.

  the slope and picked up the dead Russian.

  “Hooray!” yelled Aldridge, digging

  “I’ll wait for the last trip, fellows,”

  toward the summit with his companions in hot

  called the lieutenant, at which a protesting

  pursuit.

  chorus broke from his men. The naval aviator

  From almost overhead came the apparently adding his protest, the lieutenant unmistakable rumble of an airplane’s motor,

  was lifted in beside the Russian’s body and

  and as Aldridge lunged over the summit he

  gave Jensen his cigarettes. Jensen and the

  saw a bomb explode near a running tribesman

  Italian turned the amphibian around, and it

  Wings in the Spanish Legion

  7

  immediately scooted across the flat sand, fluttering garments and glittering weapons of climbed into the air and swerved over the hill

  the tribal warriors.

  toward the coast.

  As they came within range, the

  “Simple, isn’t it?” remarked Aldridge,

  Riffians changed their course diagonally.

  as the four legionarios sat atop the hill and Rapidly they came on, offering an impossible

  lighted cigarettes while they watched the target as they spurred this way and that in their airplane dwindle out of sight toward the circular approach. And now the legionarios sparkling Mediterranean.

  lay down upon their faces and cuddled their

  “Great stuff!” averred Jensen. “Ten sweating Mausers.

  years ago, we wouldn’t have had a chance.

  “There she comes!” shouted Aldridge,

  Airplanes are wonderful things.”

  as the first wild shots whined off the hillside

  “They are that,” agreed Aldridge, and the returning airplane appeared high in the taking off his cap and running his fingers

  air behind the galloping horsemen.

  through his perspiring hair. “I’m going to

  make another start in that game, myself, when

  STRAIGHT for its prey the machine dived, its

  I get out of the Legion. I didn’t see much hope

  wires screaming and its motor picking up with

  a few minutes ago, though.”

  a mighty roar as it neared the ground. With a

  “Neither did I,” admitted the Italian.

  wing tip almost brushing the flat desert at

  “But now we sit comfortably waiting, and

  moments, with its machine-gun drumming

  when the airplane gets back we’ll just step

  sporadically and a lengt
hening trail of kicking

  aboard and soar to our breakfast like men and horses in its curved wake, it swept millionaries. I could use some breakfast, what

  around the hill in a storm of bullets from the

  I mean! My stomach is flapping like an empty

  tribesmen’s rifles.

  wine-bag. You two blondies need a haircut,

  The

  watching

  legionarios gasped as a

  too, the same as myself.”

  feather of dust followed the trailing wing tip.

  “I’m going to get one, if I ever run

  Suddenly the machine righted, swept the

  across another barber,” replied Aldridge, ground with its wheels, roared off toward Sidi holding up his joined palms with four twigs

  Dris and sideslipped sickeningly through a

  protruding. “The two short sticks remain for

  vertical bank. In the nick of time, it leveled off

  the last trip. The two long ones pile into the

  over the charging Riffians and fluttered

  airplane as soon as it stops. Draw your tickets,

  uncertainly earthward.

  gentlemen.”

  Roughly it struck the ground, bouncing

  Sheepishly they drew, and Jensen and

  from one wheel and alighting on the other and

  Catozzi held tickets for the last trip.

  a wing-skid. Drunkenly it thumped back and

  “We’ll leave you all our guns and careened to the opposite wheel. Lurching from ammunition,” said Aldridge, shaking the last

  side to side, it waddled forward with rapidly

  drop of brackish water from his canteen into

  diminishing speed.

  his mouth. “In case the Riffians come again—

  Risking a broken neck, Aldridge was

  sangre de Cristo! Look!”

  charging down the slope. Through the spiny

  Across the shimmering desert scores of

  thicket he plunged, his trousers flying in

  tiny horsemen were converging toward Djebel

  tatters, his legs smarting, and the crash of

  Messaua. Unable to do a thing except watch,

  stones and brush told him that his comrades

  realizing that they occupied the safest position

  were with him.

  that could be found, the legionarios silently Madly they raced toward the machine

  waited. Soon they could plainly see the as it stopped with idling motor. As madly, a

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  8

  score of yelling tribesmen beyond spurred

  “Here’s a pencil,” answered Jensen,

  their horses forward. A bearded Riffian sprang

  “and I can use the empty cigarette package for

  from his saddle to one of the wings. After him

  paper.”

  in a steel-tipped dive went Aldridge, while his

  “Fine!” called Aldridge, experimenting

  companions met the enemy in furious, with the controls, his confidence rising.

  clashing battle.

  “Write on it, ‘ Two starving legionarios at bay Pushing rifle, bayonet and transfixed

  on Djcbel Messaua-. ’ Put it in your tunic

  Riffian from the wing, Aldridge leaped for the

  pocket, and throw the tunic overside if we can

  rear cockpit. Lying across the gun mount, he

  get above any Spanish troops. Here, you

  whirled the machine-gun around and pressed

  fellows! Take our guns and ammunition, and

  the trigger as it covered the howling hold out to the last button. We’ll get help to tribesmen.

  you, if we don’t crash. Up the hill you go!

  Like snow before a blowtorch, the Ready, Jensen?”

  charge melted. A few survivors whirled away,

  “All ready,” answered the Swede

  to be brought down after Aldridge had promptly, and Aldridge opened the throttle.

  crawled into the cockpit and snuggled the gun

  in earnest. When he turned, his companions

  OUT over the blinding desert sped the

  were lifting the pilot from his seat and laying

  amphibian, gathering speed rapidly. Recalling

  him in the black shadow of a wing.

  snatches of what he had learned at Brooks

  “Looks like the last roll, for him,” Field, Texas, before the renowned “Laundry breathed Jensen, kneeling over the limp Board” had washed him out, Aldridge eased figure. “He’s got a slug right through the

  the stick forward and crowed in delight as the

  middle of his chest.”

  tug of the tail-skid disappeared and the

  “A moment ago,” murmured Catozzi,

  shimmering horizon rose over the motor

  “we were talking about how simple it was.”

  cowling.

  “Strap him in, back there,” ordered

  Doubting the landing but not the

  Aldridge, climbing into the front cockpit. takeoff, he pulled back unflinchingly on the

  “Here’s where I use some of my education.

  stick, and the amphibian climbed off the sand

  Who wants to go along ?”

  and roared obediently toward the dazzling sun.

  “Are you an aviator?” marveled

  Gingerly he manipulated the controls,

  Catozzi.

  his mind gripping back through the

  “Not quite,” answered Aldridge, “but I

  obliterating months for the scarcely grasped

  can run it away from here!”

  principles of flying. Gradually, while he

  “Let Sollano go,” suggested the Italian.

  risked a glance at the two forlorn legionarios

  “He has a family.”

  arriving at the top of Djebel Messaua with

  “Perhaps he’d better stay, then,” said

  their armloads of weapons, the horizon swung

  Aldridge, dryly, as the now groaning pilot was

  around until the blue Mediterranean was

  lifted in. “Who wants to take a long chance?”

  straight ahead.

  “I’ll go,” said Jensen, climbing in.

  Swiftly it came nearer. Almost

  “I’ll probably bump us both off,” underneath, it seemed, the beach was dotted warned Aldridge.

  with the regular lines of tents at Sidi Dris. The

  “Small difference,” retorted the height of Talilit swarmed with men, bristled imperturbable Swede.

  with guns. In the foreground, with shells

  “All right,” said Aldridge. “Got a breaking over their heads, the low ridges were pencil and paper, anybody?”

  fringed with countless tribesmen. Offshore a

  Wings in the Spanish Legion

  9

  gunboat was firing rapidly, a transport was

  climbed the powerful amphibian, roaring

  discharging troops on lighters, and a gray obediently toward the upthrust cone of Djebel cruiser which was probably the Picador de

  Messaua.

  Asturias was coming to anchor.

  Rapidly the hill marched toward him.

  Over the blue water soared the Around it flitted dots which were undoubtedly amphibian, and Aldridge turned in a wide arc

  Riffians. When he came closer he could see

  and shoved forward cautiously on the stick.

  some of them lying on the desert among their

  Before his vision swirled Sidi Dris with its

  slain comrades, shooting toward the hill while

  guns, its swarms of soldiers and its tents.

  others advanced in wild zigzags. Atop the hill,

  Beneath him stretched the wide beach.

  glinting rifle barrels and pistoning right arms

  Pray
erfully he throttled the motor and

  showed the two legionaries in businesslike

  glided toward the beach. Lower and lower he

  action.

  settled, until he expected every moment to

  strike the hard sand. Finally, having waited as

  NOSING downward, Aldridge experimented

  long as he could to avoid pancaking, he pulled

  with the breech of the synchronized machine-

  the stick back slowly.

  gun. Raucously he cheered as the drumming

  With a rattling jolt, the tailskid struck.

  roar of gunfire suddenly joined that of the

  Aldridge’s teeth clapped together as the motor. Maneuvering the amphibian like a leaf wheels followed. Bucking wildly, inexorably

  in a whirlwind, and singing nothing in

  turning seaward on the gently sloping beach,

  particular at the top of his voice, he ripped

  the amphibian splashed through a foam-

  fantastic patterns of smoking tracers among

  crested breaker, came to a stop half afloat and

  the milling tribesmen.

  was immediately surrounded by a swarm of

  Desperately

  he

  throttled his motor and

  drenched soldiers who pulled it ashore.

  whistled up to lose some of his terrific

  “That’s what you call an amphibian

  momentum. Far over the desert he turned,

  landing, isn’t it?” laughed a young officer in

  lowered the thrumming propeller in a long

  their midst.

  glide, and opened his way toward Djebel

  “Unload,” responded Aldridge, and Messaua with a stream of bullets.

  Jensen climbed out after assisting the soldiers

  With a smooth mile in front of him,

  to remove the wounded naval aviator.

  confident of making a perfect landing and

  “What’s

  this,