IN THE AIR.

Taihape Daily Times, 9 January 1918, Page 6

IN THE AIR.

A COMPETITION POE THE BETTES MACHINE. • (By Lieut. Eoland Johnson.) A .French aeroplane of the fighting scout type landed gracefully on an English aerodrome several miles behind the firing line. It “ taxed” up to the sheds, and waited until an officer approached. The pilot, removing his flying helmet and goggles, showed a fine head of black curly hair and slashing eager eyes. “Bonjour, monsieur,” he said, “Have you any—what docs one say—sparking plugs*” “Oh. yes,” said the Englishman, examining the French machine. “But what a jolly little machine. What can you got out of her?” The other,, with quick intuition, understood. A lectlc —well enough to boat ze Hun.” They laughed. “Yes, I should just say-so!” said the Englishman. Indued the machine looked as if it was as fast as a meteor. Every turnbucgle, wire and strut was carefully stream-lined to offer the least wind resistance. The engine was colossal in that small machine. For the moment sparking plugs were

forgotten as they ran over the merits ' or the aeroplane. Despite the difficidty of speech they understood each other at once. For the airman’s instinct was strong in both. “I go,” the Frenchman said with a delightful accent, “to meet the Huns. Will you accompany me?” '•'l don’t mind if I do?” said the other nonchalently, though inwardly he was longing to try his favourite machine, against this strange type. “Good, You give me two sparking plugs and five minutes and I am then ready,” said the Frenchman. The doors of one of the hangars were swung open, and a pale blue aeroplane of no greater dimensions than the stranger was wheeled out. “But that is what I call a machine of the most excellent,” said the Frenchman generously. “Oh, it’s not so bad,” said the other. In reality he thought it the best machine ever made, but he was not going to say so, because of course, there was a risk that he might be beaten by this new type. One never knows. True to his word, in five minutes the Frenchman was ready, and the two machines left the ground almost simultaneously. Now we’re off,” said the Englishman to himself, as he saw the other a shade in front of him. Up they climbed at an almost incredible angle and turned to cross the lines. They were out to find the Hun. Nor had they far to go, for as the lines came in sight they saw far down below them, six German aeroplanes, huge lumbering machines which were just crossing them on some raiding expedition. “What cheek!” said the Englishman indignantly. “C'est la guerre,” said the Frenchman softly, as he fingered his mac-hine-gun. Both held to their course. The Huns could not avoid them. They met at twice the speed of an express train, swerved sharply to avoid collision and fought! What a fight! No hiding in dug-outs —no long waiting for signs of movement. Likoe a thunderbolt each machine made for its opponent, with the deep-toned roar of the engines, and the rattle of the machine-guns, turning diving, manoeuvring to get into a more favourable position. This was not the work for which the Hun bombing machines were fitted. They were too' slow and hampered by their bombs. 'An armour-piercing bullet hit one of their bombs—a loud explosion—a cloffld of smoke as from a bursting shell and as it cleared away a few charred sticks were seen falling to the earth. “Mine, I think,” the Englishman said to himself enthusiastically. “C’est la guerre,” repeated the Frenchman as he saw it. So the two fought on, but in spite of their superiority of machines the odds were against them. So soon as they obtained a favourable position, some Hun would creep up behind them and open fire. Already their machines were the worse for the fight; wires and spars had been shot away. But the Huns had had enoguh. In spite of tne odds they felt their helplessness at the furious onslaught of these two swift machines. Back they turned and dived under cover of their anti-air-craft guns, whose shells began at once to blotch the skies. Tlic victorous two turned home. They landed, but the Frenchman did not move. “By Jove! lie’s unconscious ” said the Englishman and ran to bi n. A wound in his leg had redden d his machine and he had fainted f■■ im loss of meed. It was sheer will pow ir that had caved him and his machir i “I wonder which really is the better machine, ” said the Englishman, as he helped to carry his newly-made friend*tc a stretcher.