They turned over, as did many others aboard the liner, with sighs of relief, and went to sleep again, satisfied for the first time in three days that they could find rest without the chance of being aroused by the crash of a torpedo as it struck home.
Finally the air service boys found themselves ashore in England and waiting for a train that would carry them to London.
As neither of them had ever been out of the United States before it was only natural that they should feel an interest in everything around them. The England of to-day, from one end of the country to the other, is like an armed camp.
The boys were thrilled to see men in uniform and sailors from the fighting ships everywhere they looked. For the first time they began to feel that they were now getting near the front. Everything seemed to bespeak action. Artillery moved through the streets; while great tractors that were armed and looked like moving monsters, crawled along the roads, heading for the docks, to be shipped to some field.
The boys saw everything with the deepest interest. Their enthusiasm instead of flagging grew more and more intense.
“All this makes me crazy to be over in France and finishing my education as an aviator,” Jack cried, as they saw some crates being placed aboard a vessel; crates which they could see contained parts of airplanes.
“Given three more days, and our wish will have been granted,” Tom told him.
“We ought to be in London before noon to-day,” continued Jack.
“And if all goes well we’ll be on our way by to-morrow night,” Tom added quickly. “We ought to spend just one night and a whole day in London, you know.”
“I’ve always wanted to roam around the big city,” Jack sighed, “but this is no time for sight-seeing, they say. London looks like a besieged city, and strangers have a pretty hard time getting around, being watched, and challenged wherever they go, especially if they look anything like Germans.”