SO intense and spectacular had been the battle of the fleets that neither Vassar nor his superior officer had lifted their eyes to the dim struggle of the skies. The birdmen had climbed to such heights they were no larger to the eye than a flock of circling pigeons. The tragedies of this battle were no less grim and desperate. Two of these daring defenders of our shores had been ordered to stay out of the fight and report to General Hood if the fleet should be sunk.
They saw one of these couriers descending in swift, graceful circles. He landed on the sand dunes, sprang from his seat and saluted the General.
“Well, sir?” General Hood cried.
The birdman was a smiling young giant with blond hair and fine blue eyes. They were sparkling with pride.
“It was some fight, General—believe me! Our fellows covered themselves with glory—that’s all! I nearly died of heart failure because I couldn’t go in with ’em.”
“How many escaped?”
“I didn’t see any of the boys try to get away, sir—”
“They all fell?”
“Oh, yes sir, of course, they all fell—but, take it from me, they gave those fellows merry hell before they did—”
He paused and mopped his brow.
“My, but it’s hot down here!” he complained. “They looked like fierce eagles up there and every time they made a dash at an enemy their claws brought blood. Honest to God, General, I saw one of our big biplanes smash six taubes and send them swirling into the sea before they got him. They were as thick after him as bees too. He’d climb up and then dip for them with a devilish swoop—his machine gun playing a devil’s tattoo on the fellow below. Six times he got his man, and then I saw them close in on him—not two to one or ten to one—it was twenty to one! He didn’t have a chance. It was a crime. If our fellows had just had half as many machines, they’d have won hands down. There were only nine of them in the fight against fifty of the enemy—”
“How many of the enemy all told did they account for?” Hood asked sharply.
“God knows—I couldn’t take it all in. But I saw fifteen............