Dastral of the Flying Corps. Rowland Walker

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      "And half a dozen Fokkers coming up out of the horizon to scuttle you, and give you a spinning nose-dive of ten thousand feet into No Man's land, with your petrol tank blazing, and your engine missing, eh? Go on, you veritable misanthrope!" and here both the young heroes burst into a fit of laughter at the woeful, nerve-shattering picture which they had both been drawing.

      Thus they continued to talk about the future which lay immediately before them. Yet all these things they were to see, and much more, ere they were many months older. They were full of life and vigour, and in action they were to prove daring and resourceful; yet they were wise in this, that they did not under-estimate either the task that lay before them, or the enemy they were to meet.

      Their chief concern for the present, however, was centred on the broken aeroplane, with which they had started from England on the previous day for their first flight overseas. "I wonder what's become of the hornet," said Dastral, a few moments later, as they sat by the fireside, and settled down to a smoke.

      "We shall hear shortly, as you have wired to the O.C. reporting the incident. Besides, the destroyer is sure to have brought her in, even if she is badly damaged."

      Shortly after this the telephone bell in the corridor rang. A maid appeared, and after a very pretty French curtsey, said:–

      "Monsieur le Commandant Dastral, s'il vous plait?"

      "Ah, oui, Mademoiselle, qu'est-ce que vous voulez?" asked Dastral, rising to his feet, and returning the pretty maid's curtsey.

      "C'est pour vous, ce message téléphonique."

      "Merci, mam'selle," replied Dastral, as he hastened to the telephone box.

      "Hullo! Who is that?" asked a voice some twenty or thirty miles away.

      "Lieutenant Dastral, of the Flying Corps. Who is that, please?"

      "Major Bulford, Squadron Commander, speaking from the aerodrome at St. Champau."

      "Yes, sir!" replied Dastral smartly, springing unconsciously to attention, although the voice was so far away from him.

      "Good-morning, Dastral. Congratulations, my boy. I have heard all about your adventures yesterday from my Adjutant. You've started well! You're just the man we're wanting here. We're having warm work with the Boches this week. You're a lucky dog to run into a German submarine on your first trip over."

      "Oh, it was my observer, sir. He spotted the blamed thing, and bombed her. It was as easy as winking. Just a stroke of luck, sir, that's all."

      "Well, I hope your luck 'll keep in. We shall be glad to see you as soon as you can come over. Are you both all right?"

      "Yes, sir. Quite all right, 'cept for a slight chill through being in the water for a few minutes."

      "Well, better stay where you are a couple of days if you are comfortable, and then come on here."

      "Thank you, sir. Yes, we're quite comfortable here, and we'll report at the aerodrome in a couple of days."

      "Right. Good-bye. Oh, I say! Are you there?"

      "Yes, sir."

      "I was going to tell you that the machine arrived here about an hour ago. It's some 'bus' and I like the look of her, except that she's badly smashed, and will be in the hands of the riggers and mechanics for four or five days before she can be used again."

      "Oh, that's not so bad. I feared she would be useless after the crash she got, sir. How did you get her there so quickly?"

      "Oh, we received word from the harbourmaster that she had been brought in by a destroyer, and we immediately sent down a couple of tenders with trailers and brought her on here this morning. Good-bye. The fellows here are all anxious to meet you."

      "Good-bye, sir."

      As soon as he had rung off Dastral rushed back into the room to tell Jock all about his chat with the O.C. of the Squadron at St. Champau, and especially about the two days' extra leave.

      "Good!" ejaculated his friend. "Seems a decent sort of chap, eh?"

      "Rather a sport, I should say, old man."

      "Capital. That little affair of ours yesterday seems to have done us no harm. It'll probably give us a good entree into the new mess. Hope they're all decent fellows there."

      So they spent half the morning resting after their exciting adventures of the previous day, and reading the papers, some of which gave censored accounts of the event. The two days passed all too quickly, and on the third morning they were both awakened just before dawn by the rep-r-r-r of a motor bicycle, which pulled up sharply outside the hotel.

      It was "Brat" the despatch rider of the – Squadron, who had come post haste from Major Bulford, with an urgent message which ran as follows:–

      "To Lieutenant Dastral, D.S.O.,"

      Hotel de l'Europe,

      "Boulogne-sur-Mer.

      "Be prepared to join Squadron immediately.

      Tender will call for you within an hour."

JOHN BULFORD, Major."

      Two hours later both the young officers were on their way to St. Champau, where they arrived before noon.

      They received a warm welcome at the mess and were congratulated upon their recent adventure. They soon found that plenty of work and adventure awaited them on the morrow. The incessant roar of the British artillery, which was carrying out an intense bombardment of the whole front, amazed and bewildered them, for preparations were already in progress for the Somme "push."

      Away to the eastward, the line of battle was clearly demarked. Shells were bursting in mid-air, and during the afternoon a huge mine was exploded under the enemy's trenches, which shook the earth for twenty miles around, and hurled thousands of tons of timber, rocks, and clay into the air, making a crater of huge diameter, towards which the British advanced and later in the day captured and consolidated the position.

      About three o'clock in the afternoon, a flight of aeroplanes, which had been over the German lines, returned. Two of them had been badly hit and one of the observers had been seriously wounded. They reported having encountered several flights of enemy 'planes, which, however, had avoided them and made off eastward. They also reported some unusual activity behind the enemy's lines, but, the weather having become dull, and the sky overcast, they were unable to make a full reconnaissance.

      "H'm. There must be a further reconnaissance at dawn," the O.C. had remarked, after receiving their report. Then, turning to Dastral, he said:

      "Lieutenant Dastral."

      "Yes, sir," replied the young pilot, advancing towards his superior officer, and saluting smartly.

      "The mechanics and riggers have been working day and night on your new machine since we received it. They will continue the work through the night, and I want you to supervise it, so that it will be ready before to-morrow. I want you to use it as soon as possible. We have lost so many of our machines lately over there," and here the O.C. made a gesture with his right hand towards that line of fire and blood, where the British and French troops held back the enemy's hordes.

      "Nothing will give me greater pleasure, sir," replied СКАЧАТЬ