# Air Service Boys Flying for France/Chapter 19

CHAPTER XIX
THE BATTLE BELOW
Tom Raymond was now about to have a part in a genuine battle. Even though he might be thousands of feet above the actual fighting, there was an important mission for him to perform, since he would be relaying signals from the advanced plane over the enemy lines. On the accuracy of these reports might hinge the success or failure of the attack.
The constant roar of their motor, and the high altitude at which they were working, would prevent his hearing much of what was taking place below. Still his eyes could take note from time to time of numerous interesting things likely to happen.
He could see the waves of French troops advancing behind the barrage fire put up by their batteries, and which was undoubtedly being gradually "lifted" the further they went toward the enemy lines.
Meanwhile every big gun belonging to the French had been battering the trenches of the Germans until they had the occupants ​cowering as far down in the earth as they could get.
Nor were the German guns idle all this while. Far-away they lay in their coverts, hidden from the view of passing aviators by a generous use of tree branches and painted canvas. Monster shells were passing through the air at all times, and at great altitudes, since they were meant to fall miles and miles distant.
We-ee!
"Great Scott! What's that?" yelled Tom, but without being heard.
It was one of the great shells whistling past the plane in which Tom and the grizzled sergeant were seated. It came so close to them that the machine rocked violently. Tom felt cold at the thought of what would have happened had it by some mischance actually struck their plane.
"Some escape!" murmured the young aviator.
Here and there far down below him he saw spurts of flame bursting out from behind what he knew to be woods. Here there must be batteries in hiding, now taking part in deluging the German front with a hurricane of iron.
Meanwhile that wave of Frenchmen, their overcoats with the fronts fastened back so as to leave their knees clear, kept on advancing steadily. They would arrive at the enemy trenches presently, when those in hiding would ​make their presence felt with innumerable quick-firing guns and trench bombs in the endeavor to eject the invaders.
There they would either die, or else surrender, because flight had been made utterly impossible. The barrage had been lifted, and covered a line just beyond the German first trenches. To pass through this hail of fire and live was out of the question, so that the German defenders were in a trap.
All this while Tom had been kept fairly busy. His pilot managed the plane adroitly so as to afford the observer an excellent chance to receive and send signals. Tom kept his glass fixed on the plane far ahead, from which his messages came. He did not know all they stood for; that was not his business. His duty was to send them on exactly as they were received.
There were times between, however, when he could glance earthwards, and see something of the awful events taking place on that blood-soaked field of Verdun. The French were now over the top of the German trenches, and engaged in clearing them of the enemy, even as so many industrious terriers might hunt rats in cellars where all the holes had been previously stopped up.
For hours this went on. The Germans flung ​their waves of gray-coated fighting men recklessly against the seized trenches, now bristling with machine-guns turned the other way. They must have lost frightfully in the three separate attempts they made to reconquer the ground lost earlier in the day; but the French would not give up what they had taken.
All this while Tom realized that there was a certain amount of danger hovering over his head and that of his veteran comrade. Fokker machines and Aviatiks also, manned by daring Teuton pilots, arose to give battle to the venturesome French and Americans. Sometimes there would be a number of desperate engagements going on at the same time.
This was not all. The Germans of course understood how the facts concerning their movements was being taken note of, and the report sent back to French headquarters. They could even pick out the identical plane that was engaged in this service, and also the second machine doing relay work.
Again and again during the course of those hours teeming with thrilling happenings did they attempt to put these two important machines out of business by making an attack on them in force.
But the watchful pilots aboard the fighting planes of the French were not to be caught ​napping or unmindful of their duty. The Nieuports were doing "ceiling work," far up toward the clouds; and no sooner was an enemy seen making for one of the observation planes than down would swoop a number of these sentinels, barring his progress, and forcing him either to fight or drop back to earth again.
It chanced that Tom's first flight for France was not to pass without an additional thrill. This came along later in the day, when they had been at work for some hours.
The defending Nieuports were engaged in a fierce battle with a force of enemy pilots who kept them busy circling around the advanced observation plane, when suddenly Tom became aware of the fact that a Fokker machine had managed to rise from another part of the German front, and was about to attack them.
No doubt it was all a part of a cleverly-laid scheme. While those enemy pilots kept the defenders busily engaged this fighting machine hoped to steal up on the second observation plane, and shower pilot and attendant with lead, so as to put them out of business.
Tom shouted something at his companion, and then began the first real air battle in the experience of the American novice. The grizzled old veteran kept the nose of his big plane ​pointed straight at the oncoming enemy, so that Tom had only to begin firing when they were close enough, and rushing madly at each other.
He knew the deadly missiles must be cutting the air all around, but somehow this fact did not seem to disturb him at all; for he continued to work his rapid-fire gun with amazing zeal.
Then suddenly he saw that the German Fokker was starting to descend. A shell from his rapid-fire gun had either struck the pilot and wounded him severely, or else part of the working gear had been put out of order.
At any rate the fight was over, and had ended in their favor. No wonder Tom Raymond felt a strange feeling rush over him as thrusting his head far out he watched the stricken enemy craft circling below. Now it went swiftly volplaning, and again resisting the downward rush with outspread wings, just as Tom had seen an eagle coming from the clouds in chase of a fish-hawk that was trying to elude his attack, and save his finny prize.
It was the fever of a first victory that fired Tom's blood. He hoped that it was a good sign of future work in the interest of France. Then putting the recent exciting incident out of mind he once more turned his attention to the signals that were again coming from the ​advanced observation plane far ahead. The bustling little Nieuport that came rushing to assist them arrived after all was over.
Taken altogether, that day gave Tom Raymond a better insight concerning the duties of an aviation pilot in war-time than all the instruction he had received in a school.
Finally it was noted that another observer had taken the place of the plane from which their signals had been coming. That meant a relief operator had arrived to allow the tired pair a chance to secure much-needed rest.
Tom himself was not sorry to discover that they too were about to give way to another plane that was arising toward them. As it drew closer, and it became possible for the pilots to wave a few signals to each other, Tom saw the observer in the relieving plane make a familiar movement with his hand. Since that was an old signal practiced between Jack and himself he knew who the bundled-up figure in the observer's seat was.
He made no attempt at conversation, because the roar of the motors and other sounds went; to make up a Bedlam of noise and it was next to impossible to make himself heard.
So waving Jack farewell, Tom again turned his attention to the battlefield below him for a last view before they descended to the hangar ​field, their work successfully accomplished for that day.
The landing was made without a hitch. Tom immediately became aware of the fact that there was a most terrible din going on all around him. Up to that moment he had almost been unacquainted with the fact, because his own motor kept up such an incessant noise close to his ears.
"Tired though he certainly was, the young aviator could not think of seeking rest. He managed to get a bite to eat, for he was very hungry after his frigid experience aloft. Then with his glasses betook himself to a convenient place of observation, from which he could watch much that was going on, particularly in the regions above.
But the Teutons had virtually given up all attempts to fight for air supremacy on that particular day. They had been sadly outnumbered and outclassed in most of the fights by the British, French and American fliers with whom they had found themselves faced.
Of course the story was not all onesided. There had been times when it was the Boche flier that proved to be the more skillful; and several French pilots had been dropped. One of these had fallen in the open space between the hostile lines. He was only wounded it ​was seen, and desperate attempts were made by his comrades to sally out and rescue him.
Three times did this happen, only to have the German guns open on them with telling effect. Dozens of men had fallen solely through their desire to save the gallant air pilot. Twice did Teutons venture forth with the evident intention of making him a prisoner, only to recoil before the blast of deadly machine-gun fire that blazed forth in their faces.
Finally the Germans, as if furious at their losses, turned their machine-guns on the wreckage of the French plane, and fairly riddled both machine and pilot with balls.
Of course Tom easily picked out the big observation Caudron in which, as he knew, Jack was doing duty just then. Once he thought something serious had happened to it when he saw the plane rock violently, as if about to collapse; but it immediately righted again. Tom guessed it was one of those high explosive shells that were still coming periodically from the Teuton rear that had passed so close as to cause the motion.
His heart had jumped into his throat with a sudden fear, lest Jack's initial experience in hovering above a battlefield be also his last Then he felt a wave of relief pass over him when he saw that the danger had passed; for ​the observation plane was moving majestically onward as before, and just as steadily.
As the afternoon waned the battle gradually ceased. The Germans had found out that their foes were of a mind to hold on to their recent gains with a death-grip that nothing could shake off. The French had taken their second wind, so to speak and were once more "in the running."
Then Jack and his companion came down again, making a safe landing. Tom was on hand to greet his chum as the latter rather unsteadily alighted; for being up in a rocking plane for hours is apt to make any one feel a bit "groggy."
"Well, how did you like it?" was Tom's first question.
There was hardly any need of it, for with the removal of the muffler and the goggles that adorned the close-fitting aviator's hood, worn when making an ascent near the clouds, it could be seen that Jack's face was radiant, while his eyes fairly sparkled with enthusiasm.
"Oh, it was great!" he exclaimed, as he fell upon Tom, and almost hugged him.
Having made their way from the camp of the hangars to the villa and changed their working clothes for something better suited to lounging about, the two chums went on to compare notes. ​It was found that in many things they had had just the same experience.
"Well," said Jack, about the time the sun sank and the shadows began to creep over the wretched landscape, "I've had my initial bow to aerial warfare, and I want to say right now I'm more infatuated with it than ever. Some day we'll go up together, I trust, Tom, and I hope it will be soon."