"BRINGING HOME THE BUS."

Taranaki Daily News, 9 January 1918, Page 7

"BRINGING HOME THE BUS."

A TALE <sfi BREATHLESS AIR HEROISM. Few pictures of air fighting have been more vivid than those done recently in a series for "The Cornhill Magazine" by Boyd Cable, English author of many war stories. The following are extracts from a sketch entitled "Bringing 1 Home the 'Bus." : '"ich two English airmen were sent o. ihe German lines to get pic: t vivas ol an important position. While taking the photograph* they were attacked by enemy "Archies." The photographs taken, they are about to return home, which they are attacked by enemy 'planes. But they "bring home the 'bus."

A pilot lost doesn't very much count. (But don't tell his girl or his mater tuisl) There's always anotiher to take his mount And push the old 'bus where the '''Archies" miss But a 'bus that's lost> you can't renew, For where one works there's the want of two, And all make are still too lew,

So we must bring home the 'bus

Tlie observer signalled "finished," and the machine jerked; round "and streaked off at top speed in a series of curves and zigzags that carried her westward and homeward as straight as the pilot dared drive in avoiding the shells,that continued to follow them. The pilot kept her nose down a little as he went, so as to obtain the maximum speed, but when he began to run put of range of the "Archies" and leave their smoke, bursts well astern he tilted up and pushed straight west at top speed, but on a long climb. Presently he felt the signal cord looped about his arm jerk and jerk again, and tilting the, machine's nose slightly downward he shut off his engine and let her glide, and twisted round to the observer.

A scrap; Pit it up to the Hun! "Funs," yelled the observe "Six of 'em, and coming like stink, '■ and he pointed up and aßtern to half a dozen dots in the sky, I ''Would you lik-s a scrap, Spotty?" [shouted ttie pilot. ''Shall we ■take em ion?"

"Don't ask me," shouted Spotty. 'Ask the Hun. He'll scrap if he wants to, and you and your old 'bus can't help it, Barrv."

"Thought knew the old Marah better," retorted Barry. ''You watch," and he twisted in his seat and opened his engine out. (So, despite their commander's orders to get their information home without running any risks, the Maralh dallied to light with her fast pursuing enemies, while shells from the "Archies" again began smacking about them) Spotty swung iiis machine gun round in readiness and trained it aft and up on the hostile*. Two single-seaters were halt a mile/ahead of the otliei four and looming larger every minute. They were within ior.jr range now, and presently one of thtem loosed off a dozen rounds or so at the Marah. Spotty jerked a signal that lie wa* going t 0 firf.. and taking carefui .sight rapped off about twenty iour.de.

The range was too great yet ror him and the Huns made no =ign of a swerve from their direct path, so Spotty ceased tiring and waited, glancing over his sights at one machine that had forged iliaiitly ahead of the other. Barry lookcd'back over his shoulder and up at the two machines. They were st'll a good thousand feet above the Marah, but Barry was satisfied enough with the way the gallic was running, because while they had dropped from perhaps 20,000 ft to 15,000 ft tlhe Marah had gained three to four thousand as she flew.

The advantage of height was half I the battle, and Barry wanted to snatch I'verv inch of it lie could gain. For that reason he passed a signal hack to Spotty to open fire again, and Spotty obediently began to rip out a series of short hursts. The two men ihnd flown so long 'together that each knew the other's dodges and ideas to an extent precious i beyond words, and had a code of brief signals in head-nodding* and jerkings and hand motions that saved much waste of time and breath in shutting off engine to shout messages or yelling through the communicating 'phone. Spot t,y figured now just the plan Barry 'had in mind, a plan to hostlp the enemy into milking his attempt before hf, was at the closest effective range for a diving attack. .

The plan succeeded, too. His bullets mnst.lmve been going somewhere close, for Spotty saw the nearest machine, swerve ever so slightly, as if her pilot had flinched or ducked instinctively. Then Spotty saw her nose dip slightly until ii wr.s pointed straight at the Marah, the machine-gun firing through her propeller broke out in a long rapid burst of fire, and the bullets came flashing and streaming past in thin pencil of flame and smoke.

MERE GROUNDLINGS CAN ONLY FUMBLE IN CONJECTURE.

What followed takes a good deal longer in the telling than it did in the happening. All three machines were travelling, remember, at a speed of anything round a. hundred knots, a speed that rose at times as they dipped and dived to near perhaps a hundred and thirty or forty. \ While they were flying on tho same course with little difference in speed each airman could sec the other closely and in detail, could watch each little movement, look over at leisure small items about- each other's machines. Mere groundlings cannot get nearer to tiie sensation tlian to imagine or remember sitting at the window of a carriage on the slow lumbering sixty-mile-an-hour express watching the almost equally slow mail rushing over the. rails at sixty-five mi' t ej» on a parallel line, and seeing the passengers at her windows scanning deliberately the shape of your hat or color of your hair.

In just such fashion Spotty saw the I pilot of the leading machine rise slightly j and glance astern at Iris companion, saw.. him settle himself in his seat, saw him raise a hand and motion downward. Instantly he jerked the cord fast to Barry's shoulder, signalling "Look out," and with swift clockwork motions snatched the almost empty drum off his machine-gun, and replaced it with the full one he held ready clutched between his knees. Vaguely in the swift ensuing seconds he felt the machine under him sway and leap and reel, but his whole mind war for that time concentrated en his gun sights, on keeping them full on the bulk of the machine astern of him, in pressing the trigger at the exact critical second. He saw the round bow of his nearest pursuer lift and for one long breath saw tlhe narrow, tnpering length of her nnderbody Wiiml if That was a chance, :■ ie filled it full a"nd brimming with fifty-round burst of which he saw the bullets ilasii and disappear in the fuselage above him. Then in a flash the underbody disappeared, and the rounded bow of the .hostile came Ahussuig down UO oa bin,, growing

and widening as it cauu* . with full power and speed of engine and gravity pull: He was dimly conscious of her firing as she came, and he kept his own guii goinfi, pumping bullets in a constant btrcam,,his eyes glued to the sights, bis finder clenched about the trigger.

SOMETHING TOLD HIM HE WAS GO ING TO HIT THE MARK.

oomehow he knew —just knew, without reasoning or thinking it out—that his bullets were going to their mark, and it gave him no slightest touch of astonishment when he saw his enemy stagger, leap upwards, lurch and roll until she stood straight up on her wing tip., ahd so, banking and defecting from the March's course, Hash in a split fraction of a second out of the light. Ho had no more than a glimpse of a gust of fire and a guEt of. black smoke from somewhere about her before she vanished from his sight, and lie was training liis sights on a second shape that came swooping and plunging down upon him. This second enemy made better play with Iher gun. With deadly slowness and, persistence, as it seemed, she closed, yard by yard. Spotty trained his gun full! in the centre of the quivering light rays that marked the circle of her whirling propeller, and poured burst after burst .straight at the jerking flashes of the machine-gun that blazed through 'her propeller. He felt an agonising jar on his ankle. . . . 'but the drum of his ma-chine-gun snapped out its last cartridge, and Spotty smoothly and methodically whipped ofi' the empty drum, stooped and lifted a full one, fitted it in place, and, looking over his sights, rapped his gun into action again; while all the time the bullets of his adversary hailed and ripped and tore about and upon the Ma rah, riddling the rudder, slashing along the stem, cracking in the whiplike reports of explosive bullets about the observer's cockpit, lifting forward and rap-rap-rapping about the bows and the pilot's stooped head

HE'D BEEN HIT SOMEWHERE AND WASN'T QUITE HIMSELF.

The Marah leaped out suddenly and at full stride in a hundred-foot side-slip, checked and hurled upward; and in that breath of time tlhe pursuer flicked past and down and hurtled out of the vision of Spotly's sights. It was all over so quickly that Spotty, looking overside, could see still the first enemy spinning down jerkily with black smoke whirling up from her fuselage, spinning helplessly down, as he knew, to hit the earth 15.000 feet below.

■Spotty, it seems, at this point found himself "'surprisingly sick and faint." He was able to answer Barry—Barry turning to hout his question while the Marah tore aiong at her full hundred and ten knots —that he'd been hit som** where about the foot or leg, and didn't feel much, except sick. This Barry was able to gather with some difficulty, after juggling with the wheel beside him that shifted angles of incidence and more or less stabilised the Mara Irs (ligift, abandoning his controlling "joy-sticks/' clambering up »n his scat, and hanging back and over to bring his head into the observer's cockpit and his ear within reach of Spotty's feeble attempt at a shout, While he attempted to carry on 'his laibored inquiries the Marah, her engine throttled down and her controls left to look after themselves, swooped gently and leisurely, slid downward on a gliding slant for a thousand feet, pancaked into an air-pocket, and fell off into a. spinning dive.

While 'he plunged earthward at a rate of some hundred feet per second Barry finished his inquiries, dragged or T>uslied back into his seat—it was reallv down into his seat, since the Marali at the moment was standing on her head and his seat was between" the observer's and the bows, but tho wind pressure at that speed made it hard work to slide down—tood hold of his controls, waited the exact and correct moment, flattened the Marah out of her spin, opened Hie throttle and went booming off again to westward a bare five thousand feet above ground level. THE SITUATION WAS EXTREMELY UGLY. He bad, it is true, a moment's parley and swift summing up of the situation before he turned the Marah's bows definitely for home. And the situation was ugly enough to be worth considering. Spotty (Barry thought of him'first) Was in a bad way—leg smashed to flinders—explosive evidently—bleeding like a stuck pig (wonder would the plates he spoiled, was the ' camera built watertight, or blood-tight?)—very doubtful if he'd last out the journey home. Men Barry himself had wounds—tha calf of his left leg blown to shreds, and tlie toes of his left foot gone, and, most upsetlingly painful of all, a gaping hole where his left eye sliould be, a bloodstreaming agony that set bis senses reeling and wavering and clearing slowly and painfully. This Jast wound, as it proved, was the result of a ricochet-tins bullet which, flicking forward as Barry had turned his head, cut Ibis left eye clean from its socket.

IT AVAS A TIME FOR CLEAR THINKING AND QUICK ACTION.

The summing up was very clear and simple. They were a good thirtv miles from the lines; Spotty might easily bleed to death in less than that; he.'Barry, might do the same, or might faint from pain and exhaustion. Iri that case he and Spotty and tilie Marah would finish themselves in a drop of five thousand feet and a full lmndrcd-milean-hour crash below. On the other hand, he had only t 0 move his hand, push the joystick out and sweep the Marah down, flatten her out and pick a descent iield, laud, and he and Spoty would be in llhe doctor's hands in a, matter of minutes, both of them safe and certain of their lives at least.

In ten seconds they could be on the floor and j'u safety—and' in Gjerniun hands : . . the two of them s.nd . and. . the Marah. It was probably the thought of the Marah that turned tlhe scale, if over the scale really bun" in doubt. "We can't afford"" °

What was it the squadron commander had said?—'-Can't afford to lose the old Marah from the squadron." No; Barry's vision cleared mentally and physically at the thought,—no. and; by the Lord, the squadron wasn't going *o lost the Marah, not if it was in him to bring the old *bus home.

THE LAST LAP ASJD A S4FF LANDING.

So they took the 'bus home, flying low, shot about l;y "Archies" and: skimmin ,, so near the trenches that rifle.fire pier. Ed fch.6 map in front of the pilot, Spotty wanted to shower the German lines with his machine gun, but Barry, his senses reeling, gripped his teeth on his lips and steered for the clump of, wood that hid his own squadron's landing ground. lie made his landing there, too'; made ,it a trifle badly, because wl«>n he came I to put rudder on he found: Ills left le" refused its proper work. And so lie crashed very mildly, it' is true, but [enough, to skew #m wfeesljt twist

the frame of ,th.e.under.carria.gp. a little. And as Spott'y's first'words when he was lifted from Otis cockpit wore of the-crash —"Barn', you blighter, if you've crashed those plates of mine, I'll never forgive you. . . You'll' liud all the plates' exposed, major, and notes of the bearing mid observations in uiy pocket-book"— so also were Barry's iast of Hie same tiling. He didn't apeak till near the end. Then he opened hi* one eye to the squadron commander waiting at his bedside and made an apology. "An ap.ology . Good Lord!" as the major said after. '-Did I crash her ba<l!y, major?" And when the major assured : him No, nothing that wouldn't repair in a day and that the Marah would he ready for him when be came back to them, he shook his head faintly. ''But it doesn't mater," he said. "Any how, I got her home. . . And jf I'm going West tlie old Marah will go East again ■""...

and get some more Huns for you." He ceased, and was silent'a minute. Then, "I'm sorry I crashed her, major . . . hut y'see ; ; . my leg was a bit numb/' He closed his eye; and died,