Air Stories, April 1936 — page 15: what you’re looking at

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

BRING ’EM BACK ALIVE! propeller flew suddenly into splinters, and the machine itself, which must have been doing 100 miles per hour at the very least, shot upwards as the pilot instinc- tively pulled on the stick. Then it flat- tened out again, glided some distance, and flopped down to a pancake-landing in the field beyond. HEN I landed my machine beside the Hon. Charles Edward’s, he was standing talking soothingly in execrable German to the pilot of the Fokker. I had seen some astonished faces in my two years of war, but never had I seen one so comically bewildered as the face of that tallSaxon. He looked at his own machine and then at the S.E.5, and simply couldn’t believe it. Less than a minute ago he had been a victorious hunter chasing a dis- abled prey. Now ! He was still shaking his head in a puzzled way when we stopped a lorry full of Tommies that was passing and bundled him up in charge of the N.C.O. ‘* Now look here, Charles Edward,’’ I began as we shared the flame of a match for our cigarettes. ‘‘ You told me : ‘*T didn’t tell you anything, if you remember ; it was you who did all the telling. But come and see the trap. Hallo ! Here comes Pére Rameau ! Bonjour, Pere Rameau! C'est épatant, ca, pas vrai? ’’ ERE RAMEAU’S movements were hampered by the large coil of wire he was Carrying across one shoulder, but he waved his cap in great excitement and a grin spread across his rubicund counten- ance from ear to ear. “ Magnifique, monsieur |’ he bawled, staggering along as fast as his ancient legs could carry him. “ Merveilleux |” ‘‘Pére Rameau is my _ assistant,’’ Charles Edward explained. ‘‘T had been expecting something to do with telegraph wires!’’ I exclaimed. ‘‘T thought ‘You were thinking of that incident at Flodden, I expect. Yes, that’s what gave me the idea. But this is a develop- ment. See the gap between these two poplars ? It’s wired across at a height of sixteen feet above the ground—or, rather, it was, before the Fokker arrived. When it’s repaired again it will be all ready for another Boche, see ? All I have to do in the next scrap up aloft is to pretend that my gun’s jammed, spin down out of the fight and make my way, by hedge-hop- ping, along to this spot. The Hun thinks I’m easy meat and hangs on to my tail- skid like a leech. When I’ve got him as far as this, I just slip through the gap. Knowing the wires are there, I hug the ground, of course. But Fritz knows nothing about ’em, poor feller. Flying a foot or to higher than me, he barges straight through, runs his prop. against the wires, and splinters it to bits. ‘ Alle- mand fini!’ as Pére Rameau would say. Not quite, though, because the ends of the wires are tied with light string that breaks easily. So that, though the prop. gets smashed, there’s little damage done to the machine and pilot.’’ * Charles Edward flung his arm affec- tionately round the shoulders of the old Frenchman. ‘‘ We prefer to catch ’em alive, n’est-ce pas, mon pére ?"’ CHAPTER V “No Metal touches the Skin” FTER that there was no keeping the idea a secret. Assoon as we got back to the squadron, Charles Edward bearing the usual trophies, we were surrounded, and in the course of the morning enthu- siasm rose to fever-pitch. The new scheme had the simplicity of genius and appealed to all imaginations. That afternoon ‘‘ Tiggy-Wiggy,’’ re- turning from a trip with the three flight- commanders to inspect the already famous trap, leaped from the squadron car and, beaming with delight, seized the Hon. Charles Edward by the arm. ‘Brilliant idea! You’re a smart young fellow! Come along to the Squadron Office. Come along ; we must talk this thing over. Wholesale’s the word ! Wholesale ! ’’ * A wooden propeller revolving at high speed is capable of being damaged even by an object offering as little resistance asa fluttering handkerchief—AUTHOR’S NOTE. 301 IdOO SJ (SO)