195But McGee was wise in such matters, and having delivered a blow drew off and sought other fields to conquer. It was not wise to stay long in any one place.
He had expected Yancey to follow, but that worthy was too delighted with his find, and when he tired of it at last it was to discover that he was very much alone. Nothing could have suited him better. Now he was answerable only to himself–and to Luck!
He began climbing, and casting an eye over the sky for balloons within striking distance. After all, strafing infantrymen wasn’t half as much fun as knocking down balloons. They went up with such a glorious bang! And it was delicious to watch the frightened observer tumble over the side of the basket in an effort to escape by parachute. That last one had somehow gotten fouled in the rigging and had been clawing frantically when the bag exploded. As for that, Yancey had been sorry; not for the man, but because he had wanted to see the parachute poof-op! into a suddenly blown white flower at which he might take a few shots by way of testing his aim. Well, maybe he’d have better luck with the next one.
With no thought of danger, and with his heart racing in a new exhilaration which he had never before felt, Yancey started out alone on a career that was to bring him a fame coveted by every man in the squadron, but a fame which they did not care to gain by this most hazardous of war sports–“balloon busting.” 196Only men who cannot, or will not weigh danger, become balloon busters. And of these was Yancey, the “flying fool” of the squadron, concerning whom there was never any agreement among the others as to whether he didn’t know any better or knew better and did it because it was dangerous.
McGee, with Siddons, Porter and Fouche following, swung eastward toward Dormans. Above them, as a protecting layer, flew Larkin with his flight, and still above them, much higher, were the French Spads.
This state of affairs could not last long, McGee knew. It was only a question of time until German planes would come up and accept the gage of battle. It was a situation, therefore, calling for the greatest effort possible in the shortest length of time.
Every movement below offered positive proof that the enemy were concentrating in the direction of Chateau-Thierry, and if they were in fact making a thrust to the eastward it was only to draw attention from the real objective.
For once McGee decided to disregard the Major’s orders and, instead of proceeding to Dormans, swing back and do all he could at the bridgeheads at Chateau-Thierry.
He swung around, and as he banked caught sight of 197seven or eight German planes coming up from the northwest. He looked aloft. The Spads had seen them, too, and were closing in.