With a megaphone in his hands, Andy directed the rescue work. The Goliath, its motors turning over just enough to hold it above the roof, hung almost motionless. The excited townspeople grasped the ladder, which four men held fast to the rooftop. The ladder was none too steady but the refugees, preferring the climb to the airship to another night on the rooftop, bravely made their way aloft. Women came up alone with the boys and girls following them. Babes in arms were carried up by the men. In fifteen minutes the transfer had been completed, the ladder was drawn up, the command given to proceed and the refugees hurried forward into the main cabin where it was warm and where the stewards had prepared a hot meal.
It was a grateful group that came into the control room later to express their thanks to Captain Harkins, but the commander referred them to Andy, saying:
“You can thank Andy High, assistant pilot, for he was the one who directed the rescue.”
They made the run back to Memphis without difficulty but it was well after dark when they soared over the city. Bert had radioed the story of the rescue and the news that they would stop at Memphis and leave the refugees. The airport was aglow with lights and when the Goliath nosed down for an easy landing, police were taxed to the utmost to keep back the cheering throng.
Flashlights boomed as newspaper photographers snapped the refugees as they disembarked. The Red Cross was on hand to care for the unfortunate townspeople and after ascertaining that the weather was fair, the Goliath continued its homeward journey.
The next month was a succession of busy days with further tests for the giant airship. Reports from Harry indicated the daily progress of the Neptune toward its goal in the Arctic, first to Plymouth, England, on to Bergen, Norway, then toward the Arctic with the last stop at King’s Bay, Spitzbergen.
Preparations at Bellevue were now centering on the flight to the Arctic. Special oils for the motors were arriving as well as equipment and clothing for the officers and crew. Insulation of the engine rooms and the gondola was increased to stand the colder temperatures of the northland. The tentative date for the start of the flight was set for July 10th and the month of June rolled away as though on magic wheels.
Harry radioed from King’s Bay that the Neptune was about ready to start the final dash to the pole. On the 20th of June he reported that they were nosing out of the bay, running on the surface. A few hours later came the news that the Coast of Spitzbergen was disappearing over the horizon and that the Neptune was headed north into the land of eternal ice and snow.
The exchange of mail by the Goliath and Neptune had attracted the attention of stamp collectors in all parts of the world and extra mail clerks were brought to Bellevue to handle the hundreds of letters which had been sent there for mailing aboard the Goliath, which would transfer the pouches when it met the Neptune at the North Pole. The amount of mail had been limited to five tons, a total which was reached long before the date for closing the pouches was reached. A special cancellation stamp had been devised to show that the letters had been sent by the Goliath.
With the Neptune definitely slipping through the broken ice of the Arctic, the importance of Bert’s task of keeping in touch with the Neptune increased and he almost lived in the radio room of the Goliath.