The stricken airship unfortunately fell upon a monastery, doing much damage and killing a number of the inmates. It was a Zeppelin of notable type, carrying an exceptionally large crew, including some of Germany’s most efficient engineers. The news of the destruction of the airship was communicated almost immediately to England, causing keen interest and delight. Lieutenant Warneford became the hero of the hour. The King telegraphed the honour of the Victoria Cross, and the heroic young pilot thus came into the distinction of being the first airman to win the coveted decoration. England and France united in honouring him, and hopes were widely expressed that fresh deeds of valour would be performed in coming days. But Lieutenant Warneford tasted earthly fame for only a few brief hours. Shortly after his heroic deed, whilst flying with an American journalist as passenger, his machine suddenly swerved, and in some way never fully explained, control was lost, and the machine dashed to earth, killing both the pilot and passenger. Deep regret was expressed by every friend of the Allies. Much hope had been centred in the courageous young pilot, and the end had come with terrible suddenness. People could not understand. But above all there shone brightly, and still shines, the deed of that _one glorious hour_, when self was forgotten and only duty called. The name and fame of Lieutenant Warneford will surely live in the annals of aviation—a fearless spirit, quick and strong to act, tasting for a brief while of conquest and fame, and then meeting, all unexpected, a sudden and untimely end. ‘Fame,’ it is written, ‘may fade, but not the great deeds that bring true fame; their influence lasts through all time.’ Lieutenant Warneford’s heroic act is not dead. His example has inspired and will continue to inspire, and to him we owe in no small measure many of the more recent deeds of our heroic airmen. CHAPTER XIV THE NEW ARM IN WARFARE