Air Service Boys Flying for France/Chapter 17
CHAPTER XVII
WITH THE LAFAYETTE ESCADRILLE
"At last, Jack!"
With what gratification did Tom Raymond utter those word. The one dream of months past was about to be turned into reality. He was on the point of being received into the famous Lafayette Escadrille of fliers, composed of gallant young Americans who had volunteered to serve France in the name of liberty and democracy.
"It doesn't seem possible that we're looking on the camp of all those brilliant birdmen whose names have been in the dispatches from the fighting front these many months!" Jack murmured, half to himself, as he stared at the villa in which the Americans had taken up their quarters, and where they lived when not on duty.
"Let's move on, and introduce ourselves," suggested Tom.
They were naturally a little worried as to what their reception would be. They found however, that word had been sent to the headquarters of the escadrille concerning them, and Tom had been mentioned as a very promising pupil, whose astonishing ability in the pursuit he had taken up had pleased his French instructors at Pau.
So they were given a hearty greeting, truly American and democratic in every way.
As a rule the escadrille was supposed to number a round dozen members, though not always full, for significant reasons. Now it might be one of the aviators was taken sick after unusual exposure at a great height, where the cold was intense, and his place must remain empty for a while.
Then again, accidents were frequent, owing to the desperate chances taken when fighting the Boche fliers. Every man among them knew what it was to be wounded by a flying missile from a machine-gun; or possibly through being struck by shrapnel.
Last of all there came times when a vacancy occurred in the ranks, owing to one of the corps meeting the fate which they faced almost every day of their lives.
Neither of the two young fellows would ever forget that first dinner with the famous fliers of the escadrille, and the merry time they had afterwards. The conversation was of a diversified description. Indeed, almost every subject was talked about save the one which must have lain closest to each heart there, that of dying.
That night Tom and Jack heard many thrilling deeds mentioned by one or another of those present. It was always some one else who had performed these, Tom noticed, and he admired the modesty that forbade any of them mentioning similar actions in which they themselves had borne a leading part.
One French pilot in connection with a bombing escadrille, where they use much heavier and more clumsy machines than the fighting Nieuports, was returning with comrades from a long flight into the enemy's country, when they were suddenly attacked by a number of German fighting planes.
What is known as an "incendiary" bullet pierced the gasolene reservoir of this particular pilot, and ignited the contents. The pilot instantly realized that he was doomed beyond any hope, and determined not to die alone, he turned his machine sharply about and dashed headlong straight for one of his pursuers.
Vainly did the German endeavor to avoid the contact. There was a sickening crash, and both machines, as well as the pilots, fell half a mile to the earth.
Another story that was told in a matter-of-fact way as though it might be only an account of a daily occurrence, was of a pilot who chanced to find himself far over the enemy's country, and flying parallel with an important line of railroad.
As he continued on he overtook a crowded troop train going in the same general direction. Inspired by a spirit of mad adventure, and believing he had run across a splendid opportunity to strike a blow for his country, this French pilot darted low down, and commenced raking the train with his machine-gun until he had utterly exhausted the magazine.
Then, not yet satisfied, he caught up with the madly running engine, and shot both the driver and his firing assistant, using his revolver for this purpose. Just beyond there was a sharp turn, and the wildly running train, with no hand at the throttle of the engine, took this at full speed. It left the rails, and plunged into a ravine, where the cars were piled up in a heap, and hundreds of the troops killed.
Tom and Jack had a room given to them. It chanced to be empty just then, because of a sad tragedy that had taken place not long before their arrival, in which one of the brightest lights in the escadrille had gone out forever.
As both youths were very tired they slept well, though now and then a heavy burst of gunfire from a point not far removed aroused them from their slumber. In time however they would become so accustomed to such things as to pay little attention to them. Those who live for days and weeks and months in almost constant contact with fighting armies by degrees get accustomed to almost any sort of noise.
Then came the morning that would ever be marked with a white stone in their memories. After breakfast, with some of the pilots, Tom and Jack prepared to witness the bustling scenes almost hourly taking place at the camp of the escadrille where the hangars were situated, and where most of the mechanicians and other workers are quartered, so they can look after the numerous machines.
The boys already knew that the pilots were not expected to do anything in connection with their machines save fly in them and fight, thus carrying out their perilous air service. They are the drivers, and there is a host of workers and mechanicians on hand ready to run the planes back into their hangars after the pilots have alighted, and to see that the machines are properly cleaned and have a full supply of petrol and oil; in fact do everything necessary to put them in first class condition for work.
Already several planes were in the air, bent on various missions. Here one had ventured over the enemy lines, and was circling high up, daring a Boche pilot to ascend and give battle. Another was striving to get above several sausage observation balloons that were rising back of the German lines, hoping to be able to drop a bomb with telling effect on one of the group.
These things always bring about fierce fighting in the air, and hardly a day passes without a number of machines on either side being shot down, the fate of their human occupants sometimes never wholly known.
Tom had not forgotten one thing. In his pocket he was carrying a letter from his American instructor, Lieutenant Carson, to his younger brother, who was flying for France in some capacity. He learned however that Philip Carson was not just then connected with the Lafayette Escadrille, though he was known to most of those who formed that corps.
Some time later on perhaps Tom might chance to run across Carson, for somehow Americans seemed to have a way of finding one another over there in France. Perhaps they were drawn together by a desire to chat in their own tongue: for but few of them could be said to be really proficient in the French language.
A score of things interested the boys from the start. As they as yet had no planes of their own they were privileged to roam about, and make numerous delightful discoveries. Later on they would be sent up with one of the other pilots, perhaps to take photographs of the enemy country back of the lines.
For this purpose a heavier machine than the Nieuport was always used, which went by the name of Caudron. This plane, being a two-seater, was frequently utilized to carry a spy far back of the German lines, where he could be dropped, to be called for at a specified time later on, after he had collected his information.
When one of these heavy planes went out on a reconnaissance it was equipped with a complete though small wireless outfit. Besides this Tom found—something that for some reason he had not before known—that a number of homing pigeons would be taken along, these to be released one by one as the pilot picked up news that he considered worth sending back in haste to the camp. Thus it might reach General Headquarters, and possibly prove of vast value in warding off a threatened attack.
Jack was most interested in the bombarding machines. These were of a peculiar build, and so fitted that they could take up a certain number of highly destructive bombs, carried underneath, where at the proper time each in turn could be detached, to fall through space and do its appointed work.
He asked many questions of the grizzled sergeant whose acquaintance he made, and learned the method by which the raids were conducted on enemy munition dumps and concentration camps far back of the fighting front; or it might be, how a plan was carried out by means of which a deadly blow was struck at some fortified city hundreds of miles back in the Rhine country.
Tom was interested in the fighting planes. He noted the grimlooking little rapid-fire guns which they mounted, and touched the various parts with an almost reverent air. In truth the dream of his life was now close to being realized, and Tom was happy.
That particular day gave them their first view of battles in the air, and for that reason if no other, would never be forgotten.