The start was made an hour before midnight. This was done in order to lead the Boche to believe that the night would pass without unusual occurrences.
Quietly, every man who had been called to duty presented himself at his special station equipped for work. The hostlers, under the supervision of the officer in command at the aviation field, had seen to it that every detail had been looked after. Tanks were filled, and each plane carefully examined for defects that might imperil the lives of those who were to trust themselves to its reliability.
As customary, the pilots and observers themselves took one last survey of certain particular features where experience told them there was the most reason to anticipate trouble.
Not a single plane but stood up under the test, which spoke well for the infinite care taken in their manufacture, as well as the handling they had received since being placed in action.
The signal being given, the monster machines began to take the air one after another, units in a vast whole. There was no demonstration, though scores of other aviators and assistants were on the field watching the send-off, speculating as to the momentous business being thus undertaken and often eating their hearts out with envy.
Tom and Jack were well satisfied with the big plane that had been given into their charge. Of course Tom had handled just such a machine before, and was well acquainted with its possibilities.
Jack on his part was pleased with the fact that the work of releasing the old-shaped bombs would fall to his share of the duties. It was something to feel pride in, this taking part in the most ambitious expedition of the kind in which the Americans had ever embarked, without a single French or British airman along.
Once aloft, they waited for the remainder of the huge squadron to join them. The hum of the many motors made merry music in the ears of the two young Yankee aviators. That droning sound seemed to be spelling the downfall of autocracy, and the rule of real democracy throughout all the world.
It was just the kind of night for such a raid. Clouds partly covered the sky, but there was an absence of wind. Up there, far removed from the earth, it was not dark, and when looking down objects were dimly seen.
The great forest stretched backward toward the south; and in the other direction, had it been daylight, the aviators could have looked off to the open country, where fields lay. These were no longer covered with the fruits of the harvest, as in prewar times, but lay desolate, with ruined farm buildings, and everywhere the indelible mark of the ruthless hand of the Hun showing what had befallen the border Departments of poor bleeding France.