The Zeppelin Destroyer: Being Some Chapters of Secret History

He flashed some message in Morse, but I only got a few letters.

Would he repeat it? We both watched breathlessly, as I headed the machine in his direction.

Yes!

Again the light spoke in the “longs” and “shorts” of the Morse code, which both Roseye and I could understand.

Together we read it.

“Return in an hour,” he signalled.

Why? I wondered. What could have occurred?

Somehow, by the appearance of his light, I thought he must be signalling in secret, and not in the open.

He would expect some acknowledgment from me, telling him that I understood.

Therefore I elevated our searchlight so as to shine upward, instead of below. Then, touching the lever, a long beam of white light shot skyward for a second.

Afterwards I shut it off, and made straight away due southward by the compass, greatly puzzled.

What could possibly have happened?

Chapter Nineteen

Flashes in the Night

It was most fortunate that I had taken in plenty of petrol.

Picking up the railway line close to Mayfield, I followed it due south towards Heathfield. For half the distance I could see that it ran through woods, for the moon was rising, and gave us a slightly better view of what lay below us.

When just over Heathfield Station the searchlight from the anti-aircraft post on Brightling Beacon again shot up suddenly, and in a few moments was upon us. I was flying quite leisurely, and banked so that they might get another good view of the rings on my planes.

They evidently recognised me through their glasses, for very quickly they shut off their light and I continued, finding my way by the coloured signal-lights of the line from London to Eastbourne.

The land beneath us was low-lying and pretty level. There, before me, I saw a few half-obscured lights denoting Hailsham town, then the railway lights of Polegate junction came into view, and still farther in the distance the row of scattered lights, some of which were moving, denoted the position of Eastbourne.

The authorities may make all sorts of complicated “lighting orders” with power to the police to enforce them, but it is next to impossible to black out any even moderately populous area.

While a hundred residents will effectually darken their windows, there are the few thoughtless ones who burn gas beneath their skylights, or who do not sufficiently cover one window – often a staircase-window – or servants who go to bed neglectful to draw their curtains across the blinds.

Then there are shaded street lamps burning at dangerous corners, or at cross-roads, and these, provided the ground is wet after rain, reflect a zone of bright light which acts as an excellent guide to aviators aloft.

In the increasing light of the moon I made out the big gasometers of Eastbourne which stood out as a landmark in the direction of Langney, but, leaving them on my left, I steered a course for the coast over Willingdon Hill, my altimeter again showing 2,800 feet.

I flew slowly and leisurely for fear of our anti-aircraft guns.

As I expected, a few moments later the listening-post on Beachy Head, having heard my approach, was instantly on the alert, and the beam from their searchlight shot up, searching slowly about for me, because at that moment I had run into a bank of cloud and became obscured.

We were suddenly both enveloped in darkness, our only light being that little bulb set over the map. Still I kept blindly on, hoping to get out of it quickly. Yet the moments seemed hours as we went along. I increased the speed, but so long were we in that damp obscurity, that I knew that we had entered the cloud at its greatest length.

At last we emerged once more into the cold bright night. The atmosphere of the cloud had chilled us both to the bone, but as we emerged the long white ray fell quickly upon us. Then I swerved, so as to exhibit to the naval watchers the rings upon my planes and decreased my speed to show that I had neither desire nor intention to escape. Indeed, I hovered there for a few moments in order to let them have good sight of me. This satisfied them, and once again the long white ray was shut off.

In the increased light I found that road which most motorists know so well, the steep and often winding way which runs near Beachy Head down to Friston and on to Seaford. Then, flying over Newhaven, I kept on to Rottingdean and headed for the scattered and ill-obscured lights of Brighton.

Flying at 3,000 feet I passed over the central station at Brighton, striking north to Lewes, with my eyes constantly upon my watch. From Lewes I followed the right-hand line of railway which I saw, by the map, would lead me past Barcombe to Uckfield. And with my engine running well I again, on gaining Buxted, struck due east in search of another line of railway which would lead me to Mayfield.

Here, I had some difficulty. I found a winding river, and believing it to be the Rother, took my bearings by it. Ten minutes later I found I had made an error, and had to return to Buxted and take fresh bearings, which eventually led me once again back over Mayfield.

An hour had passed, and I now again began to search for Teddy.

By the bearings I had taken before, I soon picked up the spire of Stockhurst and, descending to about 500 feet, again circled around it.

I had only made one circuit when we both saw Teddy’s flashes, and then we knew that all was in readiness. The moment of our great experiment had come!

Roseye, who had taken careful instructions beforehand, prepared to manipulate the levers, while I flew the machine.

To judge distance in the darkness is always extremely difficult, especially when one is flying an aeroplane. Nevertheless, I had already made calculations and, assisted by my previous experiences of night-flying, began the trial.

I had been travelling at sixty miles an hour for the past few minutes, but I now slowed up and, dropping still another hundred feet or so, circled out until I gauged that I was about five hundred yards distant from the tall, thin steeple.

While I pointed the nose of the machine in the direction of the church, Roseye set the secondary engine and dynamo at work. Then I drew over the little red-painted switch on the box close at my hand ere Roseye was aware of my intention. I left it there for a full minute, directing the invisible wave of electricity upon the lightning-conductor of the church. Then I released it, and wondered what result the watchful Teddy had observed.

Circling the steeple again still higher, and going out farther, to what I judged to be a thousand yards distant, I repeated the experiment three times, in order that Teddy could make accurate observation. Roseye pulled over the lever the last time, for at that moment we had a “bump.”

I wondered if he was witnessing sparks flying across that intervening space of the severed lightning-conductor – sparks of twelve inches, or so.

Or was he watching and seeing nothing – in which case it would be proved that the invention, when put to practical test in the air, was a failure.

A further thousand yards away I proceeded, and thrice again Roseye pulled over the switch, peering down below, as though in order to try and get sight of the flashes of electricity behind that convenient laurel bush.

For a few moments I made a rapid spiral ascent until I judged that I was a full three thousand yards in a westerly direction from the church steeple.

Then I myself made the contact with our apparatus, directing the intensely powerful current towards the church.

Thrice I repeated it. Then, once more I went back to a thousand yards, and again switched on the current. Afterwards I made two rapid “shorts” with the searchlight, to indicate to my friend that I had finished and, turning tail, set forth straight back to try and find the spot where old Theed had lit the acetylene lamps to mark the field wherein we could land.

Being so late, all lights of the villages were now practically extinguished except railway signal-lights.

In consequence, a great difficulty confronted me.

With Roseye seated at my side, motionless and wondering whether our experiments had proved successful, I flew on until, of a sudden, we entered a second bank of cloud, all the vista before and below us becoming obscured. Since we had started some drifting clouds had blown across, and in one of these we now found ourselves. To rise higher would mean that I could not pick up any landmarks, or perhaps not see the flares awaiting us.

We knew that young Theed had found Teddy with the car, for he had flashed on his electric headlights three times to us as signal.

I confess that, at the moment, I became greatly puzzled for, on emerging from the cloud, I found myself over a big patch of forest, with rising ground behind it. My altimeter showed three thousand three hundred feet, and before me were other clouds drifting rapidly in my direction.

A biting wind having sprung up I, for a full half-hour, lost my bearing altogether. Roseye, practised airwoman that she was, had quickly discerned my perplexity and danger. Yet she showed no fear – trusting in me implicitly.