FROM LONDON TO AUSTRALIA BY AEROPLANE 



259 



Italian friends came to the rescue again, 

 and by digging and pulling got the ma- 

 chine out of the hole which it had made 

 for itself. The ground was so soft that 

 the wheels began to sink in slowly, and I 

 realized that if we were to get off at all 

 it must be at once. 



I opened out the engines, but the ma- 

 chine would not move forward, as the 

 wheels had become embedded in the 

 mud ; on the other hand, the tail lifted off 

 the ground and there was the danger of 

 the machine standing up on its nose. To 

 overcome this difficulty, Sergeant Ben- 

 nett applied the whole of his weight on 

 to the tail-plane, and I once more opened 

 the engines full out. Some of the Italian 

 mechanics pulled forward on the wing- 

 tips, and this time the machine started 

 to move forward slowly. I suddenly 

 realized that Bennett was not on board, 

 but as I had got the machine moving at 

 last, I was afraid to stop her again. 



I felt sure that he would clamber on 

 board somehow, as I had previously told 

 him that as soon as the machine started 

 to move he would have to make a flying 

 jump for it or else take the next train to 

 Rome. 



We gathered way very rapidly, and, 

 after leaving the ground, I was delighted 

 to see Sergeant Bennett on board when 

 I looked round. The take-off was very 

 exciting and hazardous, as the Vimy had 

 to plow her way through soft mud and 

 water. The water was sucked up and 

 whirled around by the propellers, so that 

 we became soaked through and plastered 

 with liquid mud. I am sure that in a 

 cinema picture our performance would 

 resemble the take-off of a seaplane more 

 than that of a land machine rising from 

 an aerodrome. We were tremendously 

 relieved to find the freedom of our wings 

 again, and though we laughed at our dis- 

 comfiture, it was certainly a providential 

 take-off and one that I should not care to 

 repeat. We afterwards learned that we 

 had been doubly lucky, for the rain con- 

 tinued to fall in torrents for the next 

 week and the aerodrome was temporarily 

 impossible. 



A ROUGH PASSAGE 



Our flight toward Rome was one long 

 battle against heavy head winds and 



through dense clouds. We had been in 

 the air barely an hour when the oil-gauge 

 on one of the engines dropped to zero. 



Thinking that something had gone 

 wrong with the lubricating system, I 

 switched off this engine and flew along- 

 close to the ground on the other engine, 

 looking closely for a place to land. For- 

 tunately we were not far from the Italian 

 aerodrome at Venturina, and there I 

 landed. 



Sergeant Shiers quickly discovered that 

 the fault was in the gauge itself, and not 

 in the lubricating system, and it was only 

 a matter of minutes before we were in 

 the air again. The wind had increased, 

 and the rest of the voyage to Rome was 

 boisterous and unpleasant. Our average 

 ground speed was a bare fifty miles an 

 hour, so that it was not till late in the 

 afternoon that we were above the city of 

 the Caesars. 



STIRRED BY THE BEAUTY OP ROME 



In spite of the fatigue induced by our 

 strenuous experiences of the day and our 

 eagerness to get down to earth, I could 

 not help being stirred by the beauty of 

 the historic city. The sun was peering 

 through the space between the clouds and 

 the distant mountain tops and, slanting 

 across the city, gave it an appearance of 

 majestic splendor. In this soft evening 

 light, Rome reflected something of its old 

 glory. Details were subdued, so that 

 much of the ugliness of its modern con- 

 structions was softened. Below, "the 

 Yellow Tiber," spanned by numerous 

 bridges, curved a silvery course out into 

 the twilight and to the sea. 



In the brief space of a few minutes we 

 had circled the city within the walls, and 

 it was with feelings of relief that we 

 landed at the Centocelle aerodrome. A 

 hospitable welcome was accorded us by 

 the commandant of the Italian Flying 

 Corps and by the British air attache. The 

 latter kindly attended to our wants, had 

 a military guard placed over the machine. 

 and acted as interpreter. 



My original plan was to make the next 

 stage a non-stop flight from Rome to 

 Athens, thence to Cairo in another flight. 

 This decision was the result of a report 

 received in England that the aerodrome 

 at Suda Bay, on the northern ^ide of 



