by E. J. Craine
CHAPTER XV
OVER THE ENEMY'S LINES
IN all there were twenty planes starting out on that momentousexpedition to "strafe the Kaiser," as Jack called it. Half of these weremonster bombing machines of a late model, capable of carrying more ofthe deadly explosives than had ever before been attempted.
The others were battle planes, guided by the most expert pilots, some ofwhom were already famous aces. These were men whose names had becomehousehold words over in America, heroes of the masses, whose picturesalways evoked storms of applause whenever shown on the screen in themotion picture houses.
Tom owed the fact of his having been selected to guide one of thebombers, instead of a fighting machine, to the fact that one man hadfallen sick, and was thus placed out of the running. In casting aroundfor an efficient substitute they had picked Tom.
The start was made an hour before midnight. This was done in order tolead the Boche to believe that the night would pass without unusualoccurrences.
Quietly, every man who had been called to duty presented himself at hisspecial station equipped for work. The hostlers, under the supervisionof the officer in command at the aviation field, had seen to it thatevery detail had been looked after. Tanks were filled, and each planecarefully examined for defects that might imperil the lives of those whowere to trust themselves to its reliability.
As customary, the pilots and observers themselves took one last surveyof certain particular features where experience told them there was themost reason to anticipate trouble.
Not a single plane but stood up under the test, which spoke well for theinfinite care taken in their manufacture, as well as the handling theyhad received since being placed in action.
The signal being given, the monster machines began to take the air oneafter another, units in a vast whole. There was no demonstration, thoughscores of other aviators and assistants were on the field watching thesend-off, speculating as to the momentous business being thus undertakenand often eating their hearts out with envy.
Tom and Jack were well satisfied with the big plane that had been giveninto their charge. Of course Tom had handled just such a machine before,and was well acquainted with its possibilities.
Jack on his part was pleased with the fact that the work of releasingthe old-shaped bombs would fall to his share of the duties. It wassomething to feel pride in, this taking part in the most ambitiousexpedition of the kind in which the Americans had ever embarked, withouta single French or British airman along.
Once aloft, they waited for the remainder of the huge squadron to jointhem. The hum of the many motors made merry music in the ears of the twoyoung Yankee aviators. That droning sound seemed to be spelling thedownfall of autocracy, and the rule of real democracy throughout all theworld.
It was just the kind of night for such a raid. Clouds partly covered thesky, but there was an absence of wind. Up there, far removed from theearth, it was not dark, and when looking down objects were dimly seen.
The great forest stretched backward toward the south; and in the otherdirection, had it been daylight, the aviators could have looked off tothe open country, where fields lay. These were no longer covered withthe fruits of the harvest, as in prewar times, but lay desolate, withruined farm buildings, and everywhere the indelible mark of the ruthlesshand of the Hun showing what had befallen the border Departments of poorbleeding France.
Finally came the welcome signal that announced the arrival of the lastof the air fleet. All was now ready for the start. Every pilot knew whatplace he was expected to occupy in the formation; and when another flashwas seen they took up their positions.
The leader occupied the place of honor. After him came two more planes alittle apart. The next pair were even further away from each other, andso it went on to the end. In as far as Jack could make out, theexpedition at its start very much resembled the formation seen when aflock of wild geese passes overhead, winging its flight toward the Southin the fall or toward Canada in the spring, making a triangle, or spearhead, with an old gander at the apex in supreme command.
Later on, as occasion arose, this formation would be changed, thebattleplanes surrounding the heavier bombers in order to protect themfrom any hostile attack.
Far below could be seen occasional lights. These they knew came fromsome camp of the Huns, where the tired soldiers were sleeping inanticipation of another hard day's work ahead. Off to the right a firewas burning, perhaps some building in the process of destruction toprevent its falling into the hands of the Americans, who were in line tooverwhelm it on their next day's drive.
These things, however, received very little attention from the raiders.They were more interested in the possibility of their progress beinghalted by some block of Hun machines, bent on breaking up the raidbefore it was well started.
No doubt, information had leaked concerning the assembling of all theselatest model planes. There were always ways whereby clever and daringspies could communicate with their mates on the other side of thefighting line, which was the main reason for so much secrecy in planningthis particular expedition.
So most of the time both Tom and Jack kept their eyes fixed on the lineahead, waiting eagerly for the signal to close in.
"There she goes!" called out Jack suddenly; but of course his companionhad already seen the signal light from the leading plane, and wascommencing to carry out his part of the programme.
Enemy planes had been discovered barring their further progress, quite asquadron of them being in the air, with others rising as they caughtthe sound of the bustling motors coming from the south.
This was the first crisis in the raid. The Huns were "out for blood," asJack termed it, and would do their utmost to break up the formation.Their object would be to confuse the Yankee pilots, and thus weaken theforce to the extent of making them abandon their plan.
But like a speeding avalanche the score of American planes sailed on,bent on forcing their way directly through the feeble defensive line bysheer mass play. It was football tactics over again on a huge scale, aslearned by most of those young pilots in their schooldays at home.
The machine-guns commenced to spray around them. Such a furious fire wasopened that almost immediately one of the Hun machines took a downwarddive, rushed earthward, bursting into flames before it had goneone-quarter of the way to the ground.
This quick result evidently took some of the spirit out of the remainderof the enemy pilots, for they sheered off to right and left, stillkeeping their guns going, but apparently apprehensive as to their ownsafety.
A second Boche crumpled up under this mass attack. His plane was seenturning over and over, though it did not take fire, and there was notone chance in ten of its pilot's being able to save himself from thedoom that apparently confronted him.
Of course, no one ever knew whose lucky shots had accomplished thisdouble result. These victories must go down in the history of the Yankeeflying squadron simply as "general damage inflicted upon the enemy." Butthey counted just as much in demoralizing the Germans, for after thatthe attempt to hold up the raiders was abandoned. Fritz had done hisbest, but it had proved to be far from good enough.
Twenty Yankee machines had gone into the battle, and the same numbersailed majestically onward after the last spiteful chatter ofmachine-gun fire had ceased.
For the first encounter of the night this was encouraging. It seemed togive promise of further successes yet to come; and every member of theexpedition felt a glow in his heart on realizing how great their victoryhad been.
They were now headed for the castle where report placed Ludendorff'sheadquarters. Perhaps report lied. That was a matter with which they hadnothing whatever to do; all they knew was that their orders entailed onthem the duty of demolishing that castle in the most expeditious mannerknown to bombing pilots, and leave the rest to history to record.
The raiders were now of course well back of the German front, thoughstill flying over French soil. Presently they would come upon that partof
the country where the enemy had chosen to place his supremeheadquarters while trying with might and main to hold the aggressiveAmericans in check.
Only the leader would know when this was reached, though, throughsignals, his orders could be passed back along the line.
It was now no longer dark down below, thanks to the heavenly bodies thathad appeared once more from behind the cloud curtain, as though inleague with the raiders.
The squadron descended to lower levels, in order to be better preparedfor dropping their bombs when the time arrived.
Jack, having nothing to do with the piloting of the machine, kept avigilant watch ahead. He wondered how the leader would know when theyhad arrived close to the castle, since the inmates would of course seeto it that every light was extinguished that could be of use to an enemyairman.
Then came the signal telling that they had arrived, and downward furtherswooped the bombing machines, the raiders intent on sighting theirintended quarry so as to blot it out of existence.