Aces Up Part 14

"I don't know where he is, Major. He landed at Vitry, complaining of a jamming rudder and heating engine. He took off again in an hour. He hasn't showed up yet. Perhaps he thought it best to go on to La Ferte."

"Humph!" Cowan retorted, the pointed ends of his moustache twitching.

"Maybe he did! He needs grounding. I'd send him to Observation if the Chief of Air hadn't ordered us to quit using observation work for punishment. They crack up those crates too fast. And Siddons is just the kind to do that sort of trick. He's a good flyer, certainly, but--what would you do with him, McGee?"

"Oh, I say now--"

"Rats! Mullins, how would you handle him? He's a cold fish, you know."

Mullins gulped. He was not accustomed to having Cowan ask his opinion about anything. However, here was a golden opportunity.

"Cold or hot, I'd let that bird cool off a little more on the ground.

He's been joy-riding ever since we drew s.h.i.+ps. We'll go into action soon, don't you think?"

"Doubtless."

"Keep him out of the first patrol. He'll come whining to you and he'll sit up and be nice from then on."

"Hum-m!" Cowan again bent over the maps.

"Anything else, Major?" McGee asked.

"No ... Yes, wait!" he called as McGee reached the door. "You have had a lot of combat experience, Lieutenant. I don't mind telling you that the load of responsibility gets heavier as we approach action." He turned away from the table, walked to the window, and stood gazing out into the utter blackness of the night. "I wonder," he mused, his voice subdued, "if any of you truly appreciate the weight of the responsibility."

Mullins glanced at McGee, wonderingly. Both were thinking the same thoughts. Here was a man, who, until the last forty-eight hours, had always been quite sufficient unto himself. Now a sudden change had come over him. One of two things was certain: either he was breaking, and would soon be taken from command for inefficiency; or he was a strong man indeed, strong enough to admit weaknesses, unblus.h.i.+ngly seek aid, and make use of all available knowledge.

Mullins, in his own mind, decided it was the former; McGee, in his mind, was confident that it was the latter, and he warmed to him.

"No matter," Cowan himself made reply to his unanswered question as he turned from the window with much of his old self-confidence.

"Responsibility is a thing which command imposes--and which I accept.

However, that does not prevent me from profiting by the experience of others, as I expect to do in your case, McGee."

"If I can help--"

"You can. A recent report from General Mitch.e.l.l declares that casualties from all causes have been as high as eighty per cent per month in squadrons at the front. That's pretty stiff! Fortunately, the General points out, the enemy losses have been as great, or even greater. I don't want to leave a stone unturned that may help us to decrease that percentage in this pursuit group--and _increase_ it among the enemy! Here, take a look at this map, McGee."

He stepped to the table and with a pencil drew a circle around a spot south of Epernay. "We are here," he said. "The lines are here." He moved the pencil to the northwest of Epernay, where the heavy black lines indicating the front crossed the Marne. "Notice that the lines swing southwest through Comblizy and la Chapelle, then northwest again, back to the Marne, and on to Chateau-Thierry. To-morrow we are to go here."

He circled a spot just south of La Ferte sous Jouarre. "See anything peculiar in this situation?" He studied closely the faces of the two junior officers. Mullins offered no reply.

"I think it peculiar that we have come up here, miles out of our way to the north, when our destination is considerably southwest of us," McGee offered.

"Exactly!" Cowan replied, approvingly. "But there is a reason for it--to mislead the enemy. Their Intelligence Department seems to learn of every move we make, and sometimes learns of it in _advance_ of that move.

That's the real reason we are here."

"I don't get it," Mullins said, shaking his head.

"The order sending us here came down in the regular way," Cowan explained, "but the order that takes us to La Ferte, to-morrow morning, was highly confidential. I did not disclose it until the moment of our departure, and only then so that anyone forced down would know our destination. There is to be a considerable concentration of air forces on the apex of the salient between la Chapelle, this side of Chateau-Thierry, and Villers-Cotterets, on the other side. It is the beginning of a movement of concentration to drive the enemy back beyond the Vesle. Hence the secrecy, and the effort to mislead the enemy as to our movements."

McGee smiled, somewhat skeptically.

"What's wrong with that?" Cowan challenged.

"The enemy isn't so easily misled, Major," McGee answered. "We learned that lesson on the English front, and learned it through bitter experience. If the Hun doesn't know right now where we are going, he will know of our arrival twenty-four hours after we get there. If he fails to foresee our concentration at this point, he is thick-headed and slow-witted indeed. I, for one, do not consider him slow-witted. About the only secret we keep from him is the order that is never issued."

Cowan frowned. "I suppose you are right. But how does all this information leak through?"

"If I knew that, Major, I'd be too valuable to be a pursuit pilot. If we knew where the leaks were we could plug them by making use of several good firing squads."

"You are right," Cowan agreed, and again bent over the map, studying it with minutest care. "See here," he said at last. "If we flew a true course from here to La Ferte we would parallel the front for several miles. Here, just south of la Chapelle, we'd be within three miles of the line. That's pretty close for a green squadron, don't you think?"

"We'll be closer than that in the next few days--by exactly three miles!" Mullins answered. "Personally, I'd like to have a look-see at the jolly old Hun."

"I don't think you need worry, Major," McGee offered. "It isn't likely that we will run into any of them, and if we should we would so outnumber them that they would establish some new records in high-tailing it home."

"You think so?" Cowan seemed so unduly disturbed over so remote a prospect that McGee found himself again doubting the Major's courage.

"I do. Why, look at our strength! The Boche prefers to have the numerical superiority on his side."

"But you'd take up combat formation, of course?"

"Yes, and in echelon, one flight above another by a margin of three thousand feet. Then, if the beggar wants to jump on that sort of buzz saw, let him come--and welcome."

"There will be time enough to welcome him when we reach our new base--all present or accounted for," Cowan replied. "You have no objection to flying in the top flight with me to-morrow?"

"Why, no sir. Of course not. I'll be honored."

"Bos.h.!.+ No flattery, Lieutenant. I don't expect it--especially from you."

Seemingly quite exasperated, Cowan turned away, walked quickly to the window and again stood looking out into the night. Mullins winked at McGee and made a quivering motion with his hand, indicating that he thought Cowan was suffering from a case of nerves.

The Major turned from the window and stared at Mullins with a cold, but studious eye. It made the Operations officer exceedingly uncomfortable.

"You forget, Lieutenant Mullins, that a window facing a dark courtyard provides a most excellent mirror. Nerves, eh? Well, we shall see. If a commander seeks counsel, some are likely to think him a fool. If he does not, he _is_ a fool. When I said to McGee, 'no flattery' I meant just that. Furthermore, I don't mind telling both of you that I know the regard in which I am held by some--perhaps all--of the members of this squadron. I even know my nickname, 'Old Fuss-Budget'. Humph! A hard master always wins the name of 'old' something or other. I don't care a hoot about that. I don't care a hoot about the opinions of any man in this group if only the result of their training shows a balance in favor of our country. Am I right or wrong?"

McGee and Mullins were too surprised to offer reply. This was quite the longest speech Cowan had ever made in their presence; certainly it was the most frank.

"Well," Cowan continued, "I have applied the goad whenever and wherever I thought it needed. I have been goaded in turn, and took it without whimpering. I wonder, Lieutenant," he turned to McGee, "if you remember the report you made on that Hun you shot down over our 'drome?"

"Why--yes, sir, I do."

"And the recommendation you tacked on to it?"

"Yes, sir." Pretty warm, this, McGee thought.

"Then you will recall that it did not reflect any too much credit on me, as the man responsible for any failure on the part of any member of this command. But I did not ask you to change the dotting of an I or the crossing of a T. Nor did you hear a word out of me when I received my bawling out. The army is like that. From enlisted man to Commanding General, every fellow thinks he is the only one with a prod in his side.

The truth is, the greater the rank, the higher the responsibility, and the sharper the gaff. I often wish for the quiet, untroubled mind of a buck private--and I thank Heaven that I am only a Major. Which reminds me that I am one, and had better cut out conversation and fall to work."

His expression changed instantly; he became again the nervous, irascible, driving commander.