Billy Barcroft, R.N.A.S.: A Story of the Great WarWesterman, Percy F. (Percy Francis)
History
Billy Barcroft, R.N.A.S.: A Story of the Great War
Westerman, Percy F. (Percy Francis)
World War, 1914-1918 -- Aerial operations -- Juvenile fiction
Down dropped the airship to less than a thousand feet. Von
Eitelwurmer, leaning over the sill of the large scuttle, peered
downwards. By means of a pair of powerful night-glasses he could
locate his position with great accuracy. He recognised most of the
conspicuous land marks of Barborough, in spite of their unfamiliar
appearance when viewed from a height. There was the town-hall--a
pile of smoke blackened stonework. The railway station with its web
of steel lines radiating in four different directions; the huge
factories, working day and night at high pressure; the main
thoroughfares, rendered even more pronounced by the blue flashes of
the electric tram-cars. The Zeppelin had the town at its mercy.
Ober-leutnant von Loringhoven was also examining the scene beneath
him. He had no occasion to consult the spy. He knew quite as much as
von Eitelwurmer of the topography of the district; thanks to the
accurate air-maps supplied by the German government.
"Now, watch!" he exclaimed, at the same time holding up four fingers
as a sign to the airman at the firing apparatus to release the
missiles of destruction.
Von Eitelwurmer held his breath. He clearly heard the four metallic
clicks as the man released the bombs at quick intervals. Seven
seconds after the first had left the dropping apparatus a lurid
flash threw the underside of the enormous envelope into an expanse
of reflected light. A roar like the concentration of half a dozen
thunder peals tore the air, followed by the rumbling of falling
masonry. The other explosions took place in rapid succession,
causing the Zeppelin to sway and rock in the violently disturbed
atmosphere.
The place where the bombs had burst was hidden in a thick pall of
smoke and dust. Tongues of red and yellow flames flickered through
the vapour.
"Two more," ordered von Loringhoven.
By this time the Zeppelin, forging ahead, was nearly a quarter of a
mile from the scene of her first attempt. The objective was a purely
conjectural one, for the missiles burst in a street in one of the
poorer quarters of the town.
"Two more!"
The two bombs were released, but only one exploded. The other failed
to detonate, but the raid was over. In a little over a minute and a
half death had been poured upon the unprepared town.
"I can claim the big munitions factory," remarked the ober-leutnant
as he telephoned to the navigating gondola for full speed. "Those
first four had it to a nicety. The others--well, they did some
damage."
The spy smiled.
"Yes; it all helps," he said. "Frightfulness always scores,"
"Realising, as we do, that every English baby is a potential enemy
to Germany," added von Loringhoven. "Not necessarily in a military
sense, but in the forthcoming commercial war."
Von Eitelwurmer glanced at his companion,
"The forthcoming commercial war," he repeated. "Our Emperor will see
to it that there will be no British Empire to threaten our
mercantile supremacy."
The commander of the Zeppelin shrugged his shoulders.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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