The Aeroplane Speaks. Fifth Edition

PART III THE GREAT TEST It is five o'clock of a fine calm morning, when the Aeroplane is wheeled out of its shed on to the greensward of the Military Aerodrome. There is every promise of a good flying day, and, although the sun has not yet risen, it is light enough to discern the motionless layer of fleecy clouds some five thousand feet high, and far, far above that a few filmy mottled streaks of vapour. Just the kind of morning beloved of pilots. A brand new, rakish, up-to-date machine it is, of highly polished, beautifully finished wood, fabric as tight as a drum, polished metal, and every part so perfectly "stream-lined" to minimize drift, which is the resistance of the air to the passage of the machine, that to the veriest tyro the remark of the Pilot is obviously justified. "Clean looking 'bus, looks almost alive and impatient to be off. Ought to have a turn for speed with those lines." "Yes," replies the Flight-Commander, "it's the latest of its type and looks a beauty. Give it a good test. A special report is required on this machine." The A.M.'s[8] have now placed the Aeroplane in position facing the gentle air that is just beginning to make itself evident; the engine Fitter, having made sure of a sufficiency of oil and petrol in the tanks, is standing by the Propeller; the Rigger, satisfied with a job well done, is critically "vetting" the machine by eye; four A.M.'s are at their posts, ready to hold the Aeroplane from jumping the blocks which have been placed in front of the wheels; and the Flight-Sergeant is awaiting the Pilot's orders.