Evening Republican, Volume 21, Number 121, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 30 May 1918 — GIVES UP HIS LIFE TO GUARD SECRETS [ARTICLE]

GIVES UP HIS LIFE TO GUARD SECRETS

Flyer Wrecks Disabled Machine as German Flotilla Approaches Airplane. ORDERS OBSERVERTO ESCAPE Pilot Deliberately Blows Himself and His Craft to Pieces With Bomb to Evade Capture by Huns. - London. —British aviators and mechanics sometimes are compelled to destroy their own machines to prevent the Germans from obtaining a jealously guarded secret about the new type of airplane. Occasionally it is necessary for the aviator to sacrifice his own life together with his airplane. . Such an instance is described in an official report of a brave aviator, who deliberately blew himself and the airplane to pieces with a bomb to evade capture by a German flotilla of destroyers. There were two men, the pilot and his observer, in one of the latest flying boats the British makers have turned out. They had got well out to sea when a fog suddenly cut them off from the rest of their companions. The pilot headed for home, but a few seconds later the engine “died" and the pilot brought the boat to rest on the water. He climbed up to the engine to see if he could make good the de feet. A glance showed him that only a repair shop and a squad of expert mechanics could hope to make the engine run. His face was slightly more grave when he climbed down to the hull. “Are you going to make the works go around again, daddy?” asked the observer. Machine Can't Be Fixed. '‘Can’t be done,’ my son,” said the pilot. “We shall have to wait on someone coming to pick us up.” “I suppose the fog will lift soon and give our chaps a sight of us. Wake me up before they come,” and snuggling still further down into his seat, the observer went to sleep. The night drew on. The pilot sat up on the deck combing, and listened Intently for the slightest sign of approaching rescuers, while behind him down in the cockpit slept the boy, dreaming of home. With the coming of the morning the fog lifted and the observer glanced eagerly over the shadowy waters. Far on the horizon was a little black smudge growing steadily in size, and

behind it another smudge, and another. It was a patrol flotilla fast approaching them. “It Is German, my son,” said the pilot. “Is your life belt on securely?” “Yes.” "Well, get over the side and swim as hard as you can.” “But don’t you want me’to help—" His Privilege to Die. “Get over the side,” said the pilot curtly, and there was that in his voice which made the junior man instantly obey. “Good-by, sonny,” he added, as the observer slipped into the water. “It is my privilege, you know.” About 200 yards away the observer paused and looked back at the disabled plane. The pilot was crouching on the top of the wing underplane, just above the bomb rack, with a heavy spanner in his upraised hand heady to strike a blow. A mile away the first German destroyer was tearing the sea in twain in nervous haste to save the coveted trophy and get away before the appearance of the dreaded British patrol. The observer turned and swam away from the tra.gedy which he knew was about to happen. There came the roar of a mighty explosion. He heard the swish of the air blast along the surface waters and the rush of the approaching wave from the sea disturbance. The wave engulfed him just as he began to hear the splash and patter of the falling debris, and in the blackness of its heart his senses swam into unconsciousness. He was still sobbing delirious when the British patrol boat picked him up an hour later.