A staff sergeant, who had kept his wits sufficiently to rescue the roll from another headquarters non-com who was packing everything in one of the trucks, came hurrying forward with the roll. The names were droned off. The “Here!” that responded to each name was a full commentary on the mental attitude of the respondent. Yancey, for instance, fairly shouted his, while Rodd hesitated, seeming to search for an even smaller word. Carpenter’s “here,” was little more than a whisper, as might come from one who was making an admission which 124he wished circumstances had ordered otherwise. And the rotund little McWilliams answered in a manner that convinced McGee that Mac was really wishing he were not here.
McGee and Larkin, not yet carried on the roll, stood to one side, conscious of the fact that they were still wearing uniforms of the Royal Flying Corps. They felt like two lost sheep.
“Look at their faces,” Red whispered to Larkin. “Faces tell a lot. They’re keen to go, all right, but take Carpenter and McWilliams, for instance. Scared stiff. They’re expecting to meet an entire Hun Circus between here and–and wherever we are going.”
The roll call ended.
“Gentlemen,” Major Cowan began, his voice crisp and business-like, “we have been ordered up to La Ferte sous Jouarre, due southwest of the Chateau-Thierry salient.”
The exclamation of surprise forced him to pause. McGee gave Larkin a dig in the ribs. “I win,” he said. “That’s no soft spot.”
“But,” Major Cowan continued, “for some reason Brigade has seen fit to divide the journey into two parts. Possibly to permit our trucks to reach there ahead of us, but more probably because it lacks faith in our ability to make the change without scattering our ships all along the line of flight. For my part, I have no such fear. I think I know the ability of 125this pursuit group.” He hesitated, to let this sink in. And it was well that he did. Yancey gasped, and began coughing to cover it up. Hank Porter stepped on Hampden’s boot with great force. Hampden in turn nudged Siddons, who alone of all the group displayed no emotion. Never before had these men heard Cowan indulge in compliment. Something had come over him. His moustache actually looked a little more like a man’s moustache. In fact, Yancey thought, the blasted thing was almost military.
“However,” Cowan continued, “we will fly to a field just south of Epernay to-day. To-morrow morning we will take off and continue a course, almost parallel with the present lines, to La Ferte sous Jouarre. Our destination has been kept confidential until this moment. From necessity, of course, I have gone over the maps and our course with the flight leaders. They know the way. In case one of them should be forced down, that flight will double up with one of the others. You have little to worry about. Keep your head and remember where you are going. If forced down, proceed to La Ferte sous Jouarre, on the Paris-Metz road, at the earliest moment. But,” he added, slowly, “as I said before, I expect to see us arrive there together, and in order. That is all, gentlemen. Yonder comes the sun. To your ships now, and look sharp as you take off. Remember, this is no joy-ride. Hold your positions.”
126The pilots broke into a run for their ships, slapping one another on the shoulder as they ran.
“Luck, old war horse.”