"Not a bomb," the other informed him. "It was some sort of placard, telling the German people that a live French aviator had succeeded in reaching their capital. He was on his way to the Russian front, where I believe he finally succeeded in landing. It was partly to send dispatches across country; but more in the line of bravado. They wished to let those smug Berlinese know that their old capital wasn't so isolated, as they had been believing."
"Huh!" grunted Jack, "I've always said that if Berlin could be bombed just as Paris and London have been, all that stuff would stop. But when do we go?"
"To-night!"
"And our objective?"
"We are bound up the Rhine to drop some tons of high explosives on munition factories that have been turning out a tremendous amount of supplies for the Crown Prince's army here at Verdun. The French commander believes that if only we can score some big hits there, it will cripple the assault that is preparing."
Jack heaved a sigh of relief.
"I'm glad to hear that. Of course I'm enlisted in this war, to see it through, whether Uncle Sam later on gets into the mess or not, but I'd hate to know that I had to drop those terrible bombs on a sleeping German town,
