"Do you have to do much practicing?" asked Alfred.
"Only from six to eight hours a day," answered Tom.
"What! do you mean practice flying when you are not scouting?" asked Ralph.
"Well, I should say so," was the answer.
"How long have you been flying?" asked Ralph.
"About two years," said Tom.
"And still they make you fly every day, for practice?" asked Alfred.
"Of course," said Tom.
"And what is that for?" asked Alfred.
"Flying airplanes for war purposes is something different to ordinary flying. The principal practice is to learn the methods of attack and defense. But that is not all. The airplane is the eye of the army; the observer must know how to observe. He must be able not only to see, but to put his knowledge into such form that it can be handed in in the form of a report. While he may get the information he must learn that the information is not for his own gratification, but for the use of the men in the field," said Tom.
"Do all the machines carry a pilot and an observer?" asked Ralph.
"Not by any means," answered Tom. "The first duty of a pilot is to learn how to control his machine when approaching an enemy, and how to attack or to avoid him. For that purpose he has a machine gun which he uses in flying."
"I had no idea that there was so much to do in the business," said Alfred.
"That is only part of the practice," continued Tom. "The most interesting part of the work is to practice flying in squadron formation, to observe the signals of the commanding officer and to execute movements. For this purpose two squadrons oppose each other, and sally forth, the object being to judge the objects of an attacking force and to devise means to repel the enemy."
The boys sat on their improvised bunks until a late hour that night. They discussed the airplanes; the men they had met; their work in rescuing the fallen aviators, and the things they had learned in this, to them, the most eventful day.
"I wonder what father would say if he knew we were going to join the aviation corps?" said Alfred.
"Well, I wonder what he will say when he hears what we were doing in Belgium," replied Alfred.
"He must have gotten our letters by this time," said Ralph.
"Then why doesn't he answer our telegram?" asked Alfred.
"Why, we forgot to go back to the city and inquire for it," said Ralph.
"That's so; but we've been too busy for that; we must do that the first thing in the morning," said Alfred.
CHAPTER III
THE WOUNDED AVIATORS
They were out early the next morning, and started for the tramway a mile distant. They passed Tom's hangar, and stopped for a moment to take a look at his machine. As they were leaving they heard his voice:
"Going to leave us?" he inquired.
"No; but we must go to the city to get our mail, and we are expecting a telegram," shouted Ralph.
"Get back by eleven o'clock if you can," was the answer.
"We'll be here, sure," said Alfred.
"He must mean that we can have a try in the machine at that time, I suppose," remarked Ralph.
"I imagine that's why he wants us back then," answered Alfred.
They covered the mile in record time. The idea of going up in a machine was a stimulus, and they talked about it all the way, and wondered what it would feel like to sail above the earth in a war-machine.
At the post office they had their first disappointment, and there was nothing at the telegraph office. They were perplexed at the absence of news, but consoled themselves with the thought that transportation from the Swiss frontier might be in the same condition as at the Western front, so they decided they would not remain long in the city.
The city, containing a population of about 40,000, is located on the sand dunes. It takes its name from the old church of St. Eloi, and means church on the dunes. It has been in existence for over a thousand years, and was owned by the Dutch, the Spaniards, and the English, before it became permanent French territory.
Passing through the principal square, on their way to the terminus of the tram cars, they saw crowds of people moving toward the main landing place of vessels. They followed, and witnessed the debarkation of the first vessel load of Red Cross supplies, accompanied by a large corps of physicians and Red Cross nurses.
Fully fifty vans were taken from the ship and lined up, with their equipments, ready for a prompt start. A number of lorries (large motor trucks), carrying beds, bedding and like material, followed, and were placed behind the vans.
"Do you know where they are going?" asked Ralph, addressing a young man in uniform.
"To the general hospital, where they will be assigned to stations near the front," he replied.
"Do you mean the general hospital near the aviation ground?" inquired Alfred.
"Yes," was the answer.
"Probably we can get a chance to ride there," said Ralph, addressing Alfred.
The man overheard the remark, and quickly turned to the boys.
"Are you attached to the flying squadron?" he asked.
"Yes," replied Alfred.
"Then they wouldn't object, I am sure," answered the officer, and he strode forward. After speaking a few words to one who seemed to be in charge, he motioned to them.
"Get in, boys," he said.
They were quick to respond, and, after thanking the officer, mounted one of the vans. Inside were three nurses and two physicians, who smiled at the boys.
"So you are going to war, too?" said one of the nurses, as she made room for them.
"Yes," said Alfred, rather shyly; "we are going back."
"Going back?" remarked one of the doctors. "Did you say 'going back?'" he inquired.
"Well, we were with the Belgian army from Liege to Antwerp, and came across the northern part of Belgium with them," said Alfred.
"Then you must have seen some fighting?" asked one of the others, much interested.
"Yes, indeed; we were in the first battles of the war," said Ralph.
The information was certainly an interesting bit of news. From that time on the boys were the center of interest, and many questions were plied and answered.
"But where are you bound now?" asked one of the doctors. "If I understand correctly, you are attached to the aviation corps, is that so?"
"Yes, we are being put up by them, and we may do some flying in a few days," said Alfred.
"We do hope you will be successful," said one of the nurses. "Won't you tell us where you are from?"
"We are from New York," said Alfred.
"Then you are not English?" she asked.
"Oh, no," replied Alfred. "But that doesn't make any difference. It's just the same as though we were English. We want to help out."
There was a merry roar of laughter at this, and Ralph immediately chimed in with a sort of explanation: "The Germans didn't treat us right, when they captured us, and, anyhow, they had no business to attack Belgium."
"Good for you," said a sweet little miss. "We like Americans, and especially those like you who have that spirit."
The vans covered the ground to the general hospital in quick time, and the boys were really sorry when the van drew up before the building, but they quickly recognized the place where they had accompanied the injured aviators the previous day.
"Ralph,