Along the outworks of Paris our Aviator Boys had the delight of hearing of the war exploits of some of the greatest airmen of their time, Paulhan, the hero of the English tour from London to Manchester; Brindejonc des Moulinais, Garros, Vedrines, and last, but not least, the very Gilbert LeFane, whom they had followed through the air from Havre to the capital. While it had been said that French a?roplanes had never been seen above the French lines, though many machines of the opposing power were constantly reconnoitering over the heads of the French soldiers, it was well known within the circle that this aviation corps had been operating not only on the German lines, but considerably to the rear of them, and many and brilliant were the achievements of intimate record.
Within the first few hours after their arrival in Paris—not the laughter-loving city of yesterday, but the militant Paris of to-day—the boys had a glimpse of the military dictator, the commanding figure of the hour, General Joffre, on whom all France relies—a man of medium height, stout, with a massive head, thick drooping mustache,[175] and heavy eyebrows nearly concealing his eyes.
As Gilbert remarked, “he had an easy-going manner until he sets his jaws. By the way,” he added, “how would you like to show him what the new machines can do?”
To perform before General Joffre! Our Aviator Boys fairly gasped at the idea. So closely had they been allied with military doings, and so easily does the war spirit expand by such association, that a great field commander was just about the very top of the list with them. Legions gave devotion to General Joffre and General Sir John French.
From the first line of fortifications, over the enceinte (works forming the main inclosure), to the detached forts still beyond, there was a splendid natural theater for the a?rial exhibit, 430 square miles thus enclosed, with an encircling line of 77 miles.
“These machines are certainly the very ‘last word’ in a?roplane construction,” observed Henri, when Gilbert, Billy and himself moved about the hangars engaged in the “tuning up” process.
“Something like the machine in which young Bainbridge took his last ride,” recalled Billy.
In all their lives the boys could never forget that sad incident.
To demonstrate the passenger-carrying capacity[176] of the new aircraft, Gilbert was accompanied in the leading flight by a comrade airman, while Henri took Reddy, and Billy chummed with Jimmy.
The graceful evolutions, and, particularly, the lightning speed shown by the up-to-date machines, excited admiration and wonder. Practically the entire length of the encircling line was traversed in an hour—that is, 77 miles an hour!
Jimmy and Reddy had never before traveled like a ball from a cannon, and even for the practiced aviators it was a little more than their limit.
“The general can’t say that there was anything slow about this,” asserted Billy, when he climbed down from the wheel-seat at the close of the thrilling performance.
“It was good work.”
Gilbert was a man of few words, and he always meant what he said.
He showed that when he said to Henri and Billy, in his earnest way:
“The flying corps would count it a big day if your services could be secured for regular duty.”
“But we are not ready to settle............