by E. J. Craine
CHAPTER IX. THE FALLING GLOVE
Numerically the Hun planes, were superior to the American fleet ofairships that quickly rose to oppose them. That probably accountedfor fact that the Germans did not turn tail and scurry back beyond theprotection of their own anti-aircraft guns and batteries. For it wasseldom, if ever, they went into a fight when the odds were against them.
On came the Fokkers and Gothas, the black iron crosses painted on thewings of the machines standing out in bold relief in the clear air. Thesun glinted on the red craft which were in the lead, and besides Tom,who headed for one of these, a French ace darted down from a height toengage the red planes.
"See if you can plug him when I put you near enough!" cried Tom to hisobserver, who had the reputation of being a good shot with the Lewisgun. Practice with the machine weapons in aeroplanes had been goingon, for some time among the new American aviators. "Let him have a gooddose!" cried Tom. "If you miss him, then I'll try!"
Of course Tom had to shut off the engine when he said this, as no voicecould have been heard above the roaring of the powerful motor. But whenhe had given his companion these instructions and had ascertained, bya glance over his shoulder, that the lad understood for he nodded hishead, Tom again turned on the gasoline, and the propeller, that had beenrevolving by momentum and because of the pressure of air against it,took up its speed again.
Straight for the red machine rushed Tom, and a quick glance told himthat his companion was ready with the gun. The weapon to be worked bythe latter was mounted so that it could be aimed independently of theaeroplane. Tom also had a gun in front of him, but it was fixed andcould be aimed only by pointing the whole craft. Once this was done Tomcould operate the weapon with one hand, steering with the other, and, attimes, with his feet and knees.
There came several sharp pops near Tom's head, and he knew these weremachine bullets from the Hun aviator's gun, breaking through the tightlystretched linen fabric of the wings of his own plane.
"Let him have it before he plugs us!" cried Tom to his companion, thoughof course the latter could not hear a word. An instant later Tom heardthe Lewis gun behind him firing, and he saw several tracer bulletsstrike the Hun machine. But they were not near the aviator himself, anddid no material damage.
"Guess he's too nervous to shoot straight," reasoned Tom. "I'll have totry my own gun," he decided.
Tom noticed that the Hun was climbing up, trying to get into a positionabove the American plane, which is always an advantage. And the airservice boy knew he must not let this happen. Quickly he shifted therudder and began to climb himself. But he was at a disadvantage as hismachine carried double, while the red plane had only one man in it, anace beyond a doubt.
"I've got to get him now or never!" thought Tom. Once more he shiftedhis direction, and then, as he had his gun aimed just where he wantedit, he pressed the lever and a burst of bullets shot out and fairlyriddled the red plane. It seemed to stop for an instant in the air, andthen, quivering, turned and went down in a nose dive, spinning around.
"No fake about that!" mused Tom, as he leaned over and looked down fromthe height. "He's done for!"
And so, the Hun was, for he crashed to the ground behind the Americanlines. The incident did not affect Tom Raymond greatly. It was not hisfirst killing. But when he, glanced back toward his companion, he sawthat the other was shrinking back as if in horror.
"He'll get over that soon enough. All he has to do is to think of whatthe Huns have done--crucifying men and babies--to make his heart hard,"thought Tom.
Whether his companion did this or not, did not disclose itself, but thefact remains that when Tom flew off to engage another Hun machine thelad back of him rose to the occasion and shot so well that Fritz veeredoff and flew back over his own lines, wounded and with his craft barelyable to fly.
Not all the American machines fared as well as this, however. Jack wasin poor luck. The first burst of bullets from the German he engagedpunctured his gasoline tank, and he was obliged to coast back to his ownaerodrome to get another machine, if possible. He was also hit once inthe leg, the wound being painful though not dangerous. He received firstaid treatment and wanted to get back into the fight, but this was notallowed, and he had to watch the battle from the ground.
The fight was fast and stubborn, and in the end the American forces won,for at a signal from the remaining red plane, which seemed to bear acharmed existence, as it did not appear to be hit, the others remainingof the Hun forces, turned tail and scooted back to safety.
But they had left a toll of five machines sent crashing to earth, fourof them each containing two men. The leading French ace was killed, asevere loss to the Allied forces, and three of the American machineswere damaged and their operators severely wounded, though with a chanceof recovery. By American machines is meant those assigned for use toPershing's forces, though the craft used up to that time were of Frenchor English make. The real American machines came into use a littlelater.
"Well, I think we can call it one to our credit," said Tom, as herejoined Jack after the battle.
"Yes. But you had all the luck!" complained his chum. "It went againstme, and the lad I took up. It--"
"Never mind; it'll be your turn next," replied Tom, consolingly.
And so the new American aviators received their baptism of fire, and, totheir credit, longed for more.
More credit was really due the American forces than would be indicatedby the mere citation of the losses inflicted on the German side in thisfirst air battle. For many of the American fighters were "green," whilenot one of the Huns, as was learned later, but what had several Alliedmachines to his score. And so there was rejoicing in General Pershing'scamp, even though it was mingled with sorrow at the losses inflicted.
Busy days followed, Tom and Jack were in the air much of the time. Andwhen they were not flying they were delivering talks to new students,who were constantly arriving. They found time once to run into Paris ontheir day of leave, to see Bessie and Nellie, and they went on a littlepicnic together, which was as jolly as such an affair could be in themidst of the terrible war. Nellie had received no word of her missingbrother, and Jack and Tom had no encouragement for her.
Then came more hard work at camp, and another battle of the air inwhich the American forces more than equaled matters, for they fairlydemolished a German plane squadron, sending ten of the machines crashingto earth and the others back over the Hun lines, more or less damaged.That was a great day. And, as a sort of reward for their work, Tom andJack were given three days' leave. At first they thought to spend themin Paris, but, learning that neither Bessie nor her mother nor Nelliecould leave their Red Cross work to join them, the two lads made otherarrangements.
"Let's go back and see the fellows in the Lafayette Escadrille,"suggested Tom.
"All right," agreed Jack.
And thither they went.
That they were welcomed need not be said. It was comparatively quiet onthis sector just then, though there had, a few days before, been a greatbattle with victory perching on the Allied banners. The air conflicts,too, had been desperate, and many a brave man of the French, Englishor American fliers had met his death. But toll had been taken of theBoches--ample toll, too.
The first inquiry Tom and Jack had made on their arrival at their formeraerodrome had been for news of Harry Leroy, but none had been received.
It was when Tom and Jack were about to conclude their visit to theirformer comrades of the air that an incident occurred which made a greatchange in their lives. One sunny afternoon there suddenly appeared, amere speck in the blue, a single aeroplane.
"Some one of your men must have gone a long way over Heinie's lines,"remarked Jack to one of the French officers.
"He is not one of our men. Either they were all back long ago or theywill not come back until after the war--if ever. That is a Hun machine."
"What is he doing--challenging to single combat?" asked Tom, as the loneplane came on steadily.
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p; "No," answered the officer, after a look through his glasses. "I thinkhe brings some messages. We sent some to the Germans yesterday, and Ithink this is a return courtesy. We will wait and see."
Nearer and nearer came the German plane. Soon it was circling around theFrench camp. Hundreds came out to watch, for now the object of the loneaviator was apparent. He contemplated no raid. It was to drop news ofcaptured, or dead, Allied airmen.
Then, as Tom, and the others watched, a little package was seen tofall from the hovering aeroplane. It landed on the roof of one of thehangars, bounced off and was picked up by an orderly, who presented itto the commanding officer.
Quickly and eagerly it was opened. It contained some personal belongingsof Allied airmen who had been missing for the past week. Some of them,the message from the German lines said, had been killed by their fallsafter being shot down, and it was stated that they had been decentlyburied. Others were wounded and in hospitals.
"No word from Harry," said Tom, sadly, as the last of the relics fromthe dead and the living were gone over.
"Well, I guess we may as well give him up," added Jack. "But we canavenge him. That's all we have left, now."
"Yes," agreed Tom. "If we only--?"
A cry from some of those watching the German plane interrupted him. Thetwo air service boys looked up. Another small object was falling. Itlanded with a thud, almost at the feet of Tom and Jack, and the latterpicked it up.
It was an aviator's glove; and as Jack held it up a note droppedout. Quickly it was read, and the import of it was given to all in asimultaneous shout of joy from Tom and Jack.
"It's word from Harry Leroy! Word from Harry at last!"