The weekly Alaska citizen., 1918-06-17
AIRPLANE RAIDS DESCRIBED BYPILOTS MAKING THEM ARE
 INTERESTING BUT DANGEROUS

and the return.
 It was dark. A pale crescent moon struggled bravely but inef- Actively to clear away the gloom below. Strange, shadowy figures were Hitting noiselessly about the grounds, and against the skyline could be seen the blots which rep resented the great machines that stood waiting for their pilots and observers. Off toward the east the sky quivered and glowed fitfully with the crimson flashes from a myriad guns, while the shrapnel hurled vicious flashes all along the line. It was toward these ominous beacons that the flight was going.
 There was no delay. Time was valuable for there were signs that mists might come at any time. With in five minutes the throbbing of a powerful engine began, a machine gun parked as the observer tested the weapon, and then the plane glid- ed swiftly away across the field and swept into the air, its little signal lights gleaming like stars. Another followed, and another, until the twelve had all embarked on their perilous voyage whose ending no ono co,ld nronbacy
 Gradually the blinking eyes of the planes disappeared, and we stood and counted the minutes as We strained our eyes towards the battle lines where the flights would cross began to mount high into the air over the trenches. The airmen had reached the land of hate. and their punishment began in earnest.
 The deluge continued, and the shrapGel flashed in ever increasing numbers. German searchlights went peering through the clouds, and we learned later that one ray rested squarely on a British plane It was heartbreaking moment for the pilot and observer. Their chances were small, but the light moved on and upward and the plane was again enveloped in darkness
 All the planes but one were across the line at last The one machine came wheeling back, flashing its per. sonal signal as it felt its way to, wards home. A signal from the ground answered and the plane circled slowly down and came bob. ping across the field Engine trouble had forced return, but there had been no accident.
 It neared the hour for the other planes to be coming back. The squadron commander was pacing up and down the field like caged tiger. His nerves were strained al. most to the breaking point, and he IL. boys, the lads whom he loved like brother, were out there over the boche guns. He himself had spent many bitter days and nights in a fighting plane, and he knew the hell the flight was going through at the moment. And so he stamped about unhappily. with his peering eyes ever on the eastern horizon, watch. ing for the twin stars which would herald the return of at least one of the wanderers.
 Finally a set of lights appeared and swung swiftly towards the west. Dash, dot, dash, dash" went the code.
 It's Brown and Little," sighed the commander, and he was off post haste toward the landing place. The machine circled and perched.
 That you Brown?" the commander demanded anxiously. Everything all right?"
 He didn't ask whether they had reached their objective, or whether they had dropped their bombs. Were his boys all right?
 Brown and Little. are all right, sir" came the reply.
 Ten times more the same thing happened, the planes sometimes ar irving in groups. One pilot and his observer were still out We waited a long time and they did not ap- pear. The commander took himself off to be alone, and the other of- ficers whispered quietly among them selves. There was tragedy in the air. Two of the finest men in the service were still unaccounted for.
 Meantime this pilot and observer were struggling to win hundred-to- one chance against them with death as the penalty for failure. Out over the German lines their engine went dead while they were at height of perhaps four thousand feet. They dropped thousand feet and then the pilot got his engine working again spasmodically. Up they crawl ed to their former altitude with their nose towards home and then the en-