There was little enough to see. They were flying westward. Again and again Larkin turned his head around, closed one eye and placing a thumb close to his open eye squinted into the blinding sun. Many times, by the employment of that little trick, he had been able to momentarily diffuse the sun’s rays sufficiently to catch the faintest blurred outline of enemy planes sitting in the sun and waiting for the proper moment to dive.
This morning the sun seemed unusually bright and blinding. Somewhat ahead, and to the south, three large French observation planes were coming up toward the lines at la Chapelle. They were just about even, vertically, with the cloud bank over the Surmelin Valley. They would pass almost directly under the bottom flight, led by Yancey.
Larkin watched them, somewhat idly. Photographic mission, probably. Then, with little or no interest in them, his eye ran along the two converging lines of planes that made up Yancey’s flight. That moment he noticed McGee’s plane cut out of position and zoom up at an angle too steep to be maintained. Then McGee’s plane levelled off and was hurled through a series of quick acrobatics. It meant but one thing–manoeuver!
147Larkin jerked his head around and squinted into the sun. Not a thing there–at least nothing he could see–and as soon as the stabbing streaks of light left his eyes he glanced toward the cloud bank over the Marne. Nothing there. The three French observation busses, far below, were going gaily on their way. But McGee was still climbing and stunting. Larkin knew that this was no idle exhibition. McGee didn’t fly that way. He was trying to draw their attention to something.
Larkin looked ahead at Cowan’s plane. That moment the Major dipped his plane twice. Now what in the world did he mean by that? Larkin wondered. Merely that he had noticed McGee and was on the alert? Or did he mean that he too had seen the enemy? Enemy! Where was the enemy?
Again Larkin turned his head to try the sun. Nothing there ... yes, by George! there was a blur of black spots. But it was such a fleeting view that he could not be sure, and tried again. Blast the sun! It made him blind as a bat!
He closed his eyes to cut out the dancing sparks and pin wheels. He opened them again, and on turning for one more trial at the sun his eye fell upon the cloud bank to the north. Talk about being blind! Blind as a bat was right!
There, dark, dim and shadowy against the cloud were more German planes than he had ever before 148seen in one group, and their angle of direction left no question as to their purpose.
Again he tried the sun. Yes, there they were! No question about it now. They were coming down, and in so doing were no longer completely within the eye of the sun. Pretty slick! A group behind to cut off retreat and another group coming out of the clouds at an angle that would intercept the line of flight. And that cloud was fairly raining German planes!
“Well!” Larkin exclaimed aloud. “Here’s a howdy-do!”