Adventure Magazine Cover — page 170: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

160 than I am of the weather,” stated Beaman, who in addition to being an observer acted as adjutant. The captain’s thoughts had Sergeant Woodruff as a subject for the remainder of the meal. The non-com. had arrived in charge of a photographic detachment, the taking of a mosaic of Camp Henry and its big artillery range being part of the duty for which the fliers had been sent. He had served as an officer during the war, and it had gone to his head. Being totally with- out education, and having made a none-too- brilliant record as an officer, he was not retained in the commissioned ranks. His know-it-all attitude and firm belief that he was to be allowed to make his own hours speedily caused the vigorous captain to call his hand. The first attempt was not too successful, but the next call-down the lanky, conceited non-com. received con- tained all the picturesque verbiage and undeniable force which the stocky little C. O. possessed. The sergeant came to work on time there- after, but there came to be an increasing number of reasons why the photographic detachment could not do its work. The big cameras were out of order—the electric batteries which ran them mysteriously lost their juice—the carefully flown strips always showed huge gaps in them. And the worst of the matter was that not an officer in the outfit possessed knowledge of photography enough actually to prove that the sergeant was to blame, although sundry suspicions were entertained. However, there was plenty of time to take the mosaic—the detachment still had two months of duty.to perform with the artillery regiments. The matter of the air-pictures of the review the next day was important— important to a greater degree than would seem possible. It was to be a mammoth affair, with the opening games of the polo tournament and various other matters connected with it. The commanding general of the depart- ment—a candidate for the Presidency— was to be there. And the white-haired brigadier-general who commanded Camp Henry had set his heart on having a com- plete set of aerial views of the tremendous review. The captain’s migd roved back ’to the interview he had had with Colonel Feld- more, department Air Service officer, down Adventure in San Antonio just before the detachment’s departure. “Kennard, this thing is important as ,’ the tall, spare chief had told him. “The rest of the army thinks the Air Service is made up of a lot of wild kids who are good for nothing at all except to grandstand. They give ’em credit for guts, and admire ’em for that reason, but they don’t think the fliers are worth a tinker’s for any actual work, or that the airplanes can accomplish anything practical. “This picked detachment is being sent at the artillery’s request to handle artillery shoots during the firing season. It’s up to you to prove to that bunch what we can do, and have been doing along the border and in other places. Every man you’ve got has been selected for a reason—your pilots are veterans and you’ve got two of the best observers in the army in Beaman and Gravesend. “Make their eyeballs click up there, and go more than: half-way. Grandstand to make an impression if necessary, but knock ’em dead. When they hit a target they can’t see on the second salvo they’ll open their peepers wide. Go to it, son, and tell those wild youngsters of yours what’s ahead of ’em.” And the colonel’s words were true. The big artillery camp was friendly, but the occasional good-humored jests regarding the temperamental fliers and the amount of work which the Air Service did xot have to do had been straws showing which way the wind blew. Camp Henry, knowing nothing of flying, was not in a position to appreciate the fact that fogs and fields and quality of oil and gasoline were all vital matters; that flying a shoot ten miles out on the range meant the staking of two lives against the motor, for in the moun- tains of Kentucky landing prospects are exactly as safe as over New York City. If the detachment fell down on the pic- tures for the general it would mean con- siderable damage to the prestige of the airmen. The captain had no doubts as to the outcome of the artillery spotting—the first try at that was to come this morning— although he hated to see Hemingwood and Beaman go up in that fog. He was worried, however, about those insignificant yet psychologically important pictures on the morrow. Sergeant Woodruff, to his mind, MICLOOOK (©