Air Service Boys in the Big Battle | Page 3

on the strength or weakness of a seemingly insignificant bit of wire or the continuity of a small gasoline pipe.
"Well, it'll seem good to get up in the air again," remarked Jack. "A little rest is all right, but too much is more than enough."
"Right 0, my sliced liberty bond!" laughed Tom. "And now--"
Their talk was interrupted by a cheer that broke out in front of a recreation house, in reality a YMCA hut, or le Foyer du Soldat as it was called. It was where the airmen went when not on duty to read the papers, write letters and buy chocolate.
"What's up now?" asked Jack, as he and his chum looked toward the cheering squad of aviators and their assistants.
"Give it up. Let's go over and find out."
They broke into a run as the cheering continued, and then they saw hats being thrown into the air and men capering about with every evidence of joy.
"We must have won a big battle!" cried Jack.
"Seems so," agreed Tom. "Hi there! what is it?" he asked in French of a fellow aviator.
"What is it? You ask me what? Ah, joy of my life! It is you who ought to know first! It is you who should give thanks! Ah!"
"Yes, that's all right, old man," returned Jack in English. "We'll give thanks right as soon as we know what it is; but we aren't mind readers, you know, and there are so many things to guess at that there's no use in wasting the time. Tell us, like a good chap!" he begged in French, for he saw the puzzled look on the face of the aviator Tom had addressed.
"It is the best news ever!" was the answer. "The first of your brave countrymen have arrived to help us drive the Boche from France! The first American Expeditionary Force, to serve under your brave General Pershing, has reached the shores of France safely, in spite of the U-boats, and are even now marching to show themselves in Paris! Ah, is it any wonder that we rejoice? How is it you say in your own delightful country? Two cheers and a lion! Ah!"
"Tiger, my dear boy! Tiger!" laughed Jack. "And, while you're about it, you might as well make it three cheers and done with it. Not that it makes any great amount of difference in this case, but it's just the custom, my stuffed olive!"
And then he and Tom were fairly carried off their feet by the rush of enthusiastic Frenchmen to congratulate them on the good news, and to share it with them.
"Is it really true?" asked Tom. "Has any substantial part of Uncle Sam's boys really got here at last?"
He was told that such was the case. The news had just been received at the headquarters of the flying squad to which Tom and Jack were attached. About ten thousand American soldiers were even then on French soil. Their coming had long been waited for, and the arrangements sailed in secret, and the news was known in American cities scarcely any sooner than it was in France, so careful had the military authorities been not to give the lurking German submarines a chance to torpedo the transports.
"Is not that glorious news, my friend?" asked the Frenchman who had given it to Tom and Jack.
"The best ever!" was the enthusiastic reply. And then Jack, turning to his chum, said in a low voice, as the Frenchman hurried back to the cheering throng: "You know what this means for us, of course?"
"Rather guess I do!" was the response. "It means we've got to apply for a transfer and fight under Pershing!"
"Exactly. Now how are we going to do it?"
"Oh, I fancy it will be all right. Merely a question of detail and procedure. They can't object to our wanting to fight among our own countrymen, now that enough of them are over here to make a showing. I suppose this is the first of the big army that's coming."
"I imagine so," agreed Jack. "Hurray! this is something like. There's going to be hard fighting. I realize that. But this is the beginning of the end, as I see it."
"That's what! Now, instead of tinkering over our machines, let's see the commandant and---"
Jack motioned to his chum to cease talking. Then he pointed up to the sky. There was a little speck against the blue, a speck that became larger as the two Americans watched.
"One of our fliers coming bark," remarked Tom in a low voice.
"I hope he brings more good news," returned Jack.
The approaching airman came rapidly nearer, and then the throngs that had gathered about the headquarters building to discuss the news of the arrival of the first American forces turned to watch the return of the flier.
"It's Du Boise," remarked Tom,