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When he recalled the last time he spoke with her he could smile a little wryly. It had been almost a tragedy then. It did not seem much now. The man who had piloted a battle-plane over swaying armies in France could smile reminiscently at being called a rabbit by an angry girl. It was queer Sophie had never married. His thought took that turn presently.
Go to it, Tom, old scout!" The big battle-plane, soaring fully two thousand feet above the earth, suddenly turned almost upside-down, so that its nose pointed at an angle close to forty-five degrees. Like a hawk plunging after its prey it sped through space, the two occupants held in their places by safety belts. As they thus rushed downward the earth seemed as if rising to meet them.
He brought me where stood biplanes and monoplanes of all sizes and designs, and paused beside a two-seater, gunned fore and aft, and with ponderous, wide-flung wings. "This," he explained, "is an old battle-plane, quite a veteran too jolly old bus in its way, but too slow; it's a 'pusher', you see, and 'tractors' are all the go. We're having some over to-day tophole machines."
All at once the German waved an arm and sagged over sideways, his great battle-plane wavering uncertainly, and, as it began to fall, Z. avoided the intended collision by inches. Down went the German machine, down and down, and, watching, Z. saw it plunge through the clouds wrapped in flame. Then Z. turned and made for home as fast as his baulking engine would allow.
Somewhere between the day he first looked on Sophie Carr at Lone Moose and the day he fell five thousand feet to earth in a flaming battle-plane, keeping his life by one of war's miracles, Wes Thompson lived and loved and suffered perhaps a little more than falls to the common lot.
Always the far thunder beyond Nivelle in ruins; sometimes a battle-plane high in the blue; a convoy of your beloved mules arriving from the coast; nothing more exciting. Monsieur Smeet and Monsieur Glenn inquire always concerning you. They are brave and kind; their odd jests amuse me. My father caught a tench in the Lesse this morning.
Joe Little and Louis Deschamps were sitting in a hangar one Sunday afternoon, chatting about a new type of battle-plane that had arrived that week. "I could fly that bus," said Joe, "if I had a chance." "That is just the trouble," commented Louis. "Getting the chance is what is so hard. I am tired of fussing around on those school machines they let us on now and then.
There are incredible stories, true as incredible, of shattered men carrying on with their work in absolute disregard of physical injury. Major Brabazon Rees, V.C., engaged a big German battle-plane in September of 1915 and, single-handed, forced his enemy out of action.
Now, there is only one machine that makes a noise like a buzz-saw going about its lawful business, and that is a British battle-plane, and that this was such a machine, Tam knew. Why it should be flying at that height and in a direction opposite to that in which the battle-line lay, was a mystery.
"Sir-r," said Tam, "I wad know her anywheer. Yon's Mr. Craig's 'bus, right enough." Blackie turned quickly and ran to his office. He spun the handle of the telephone and gave a number. "That you, Calais? There's a Boche flying one of our machines gone in your direction yes, one that came down in his lines last week. A Fairlight battle-plane. She's flying at sixteen thousand feet. Warn Dover."
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