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"I think perhaps we'd better get out here."

As they left the car the horrid droning of the enemy planes reached them again and looking up they saw scores of black specks coming up from the east in the bright, cold, winter sky. In the doorstep the chauffeur paused for a moment to look at them and said:

"The swine If only we had a few planes ourselves we'd show them."

"You will have soon," Gregory strove to reassure him. "If only Marshal Mannerheim can manage to hold his line for a week or two it's quite certain that help will be sent." Upon which they hurried inside.

The big building was a school and as they entered it the last of the children from the classrooms were filing down to the basement under the care of their teachers.

Downstairs the party from the car found that there was a large underground swimming bath which had been emptied and about 150 children were gathered there. When the last of them had filed in they all lined up without crowding or excitement and evidently by a prearranged plan. It was a mixed school and while each teacher remained with his or her own class the headmaster took up his position near the diving board and spoke to the children in Finnish.

The first bombs began to fall and their explosions could be heard quite clearly down there in the basement. Some of the children jerked spasmodically at each detonation, but at a signal from the master they began to sing and the thin childish voices were lifted in what the chauffeur told them was the Finnish battle song by the national poet, Runeberg. He said that the Russians would not allow it to be sung in the days when the Czars were the masters of Finland, and gave them a rough translation of the first verse which ran:

"Sons o f a race whose blood was shed

On Nerva's field, on Poland 's sand; at Leipzig Lutzen's dark hills under

Not yet is Finland 's manhood dead.

With foeman's blood a field may still be tinted red. All rest, all peace, away be gone! The tempest loosens; the lightning's flash; And o'er the field the cannon thunders. Rank upon rank, march on, march on!"

At first the singing was faltering and uncertain but soon it swelled to a great volume of sound and Gregory Sallust, who was a hard man, felt himself touched to the very heart by so fine a demonstration of childish faith and courage; when he glanced at Erika he saw that she was openly crying. The hellish battle above continued and at times they could even hear the; scream of the bombs as they hurtled earthwards.

Suddenly there was an ear splitting roar as a bomb hit the building. One corner of the ceiling of the swimming bath seemed to dissolve in a great puff of smoke, rubble, dust and game, obscuring the children who were nearest to it.

While the women teachers gathered their charges to them and endeavoured to still their frightened cries the men, with Gregory's party, thrust their way among them until they reached: the great pile of debris under which some of the children had been buried. Above them now gaped a great hole, through which they could see the open sky and the black murder planes circling in it with the shells from the few anti aircraft batteries breaking like white puff balls here and there among them.

Fortunately the bulk of the fallen masonry had landed on the broad platform that ran round the edge of the bath and comparatively little had crashed into it where the children were standing… With frantic energy, careless of bleeding hands, the rescuers dragged aside the great lumps of brick and stone until they could get at the poor mangled, bleeding little bodies. Six children had been crushed to death and another fifteen injured.

Those still living were carried through into an underground gymnasium near by which had already been fitted up as a first aid station. By the time the rescuers had all the wounded children clear the teachers had stilled the panic of the others by the courage and calmness of their own example and the headmaster was driving fear from their minds by making them use their bodies in swift, rhythmatical physical jerks. The sound of the explosions gradually lessened and at twenty past one the "All Clear" again sounded.

Gregory's party went upstairs with a number of other civilians who had taken refuge in the building. They found the car undamaged except for one smashed window which had been broken by a splinter and, getting into it, they drove on to the airport which they reached ten minutes later. As they descended from the car an official came to meet them, and smiling at him Gregory said at once:

"We're a party of neutrals. Now things are getting so hot here we've decided to go away at once; so we're leaving in the Sabina plane in which my friend and I arrived here on Tuesday morning."

The official shook his head. "I'm sorry, sir: the Russians are shooting down any plane that goes up. Instructions have been given that for the present no planes are to leave the airport."

Chapter XIX

The Undreamed of Trap

'OH, come!" Gregory protested. "They won't interfere with is; our plane is a Belgian make and it has the British markings. The Russians won't fire on a neutral."

"I'm afraid you're wrong there," grunted the official. "That's just what they have been doing. They shot down two Swedish Manes and a Dutchman this morning."

"Were they civil planes or owned by volunteers who had offered their services to Finland in the event of war?"

"Civil planes, sir. Two were caught in the first raid at nine twenty five. They had just taken off and were flying south when they ran right into the Russians coming up across the Gulf; the other was shot down as it was coming in and about to make a landing on the airport at about ten minutes to one."

"But why; Russia is not at war with Sweden or Holland?"

The official shrugged. "You've seen what they've done in the city, sir, and most people would tell you it's because they're a lot of cut throats who delight in murder; but if you want my honest opinion it's because these Russians are an ignorant lot they don't know the markings of one country from those of another and they're not taking any chances. They regard any plane that's not one of their own makes as a potential enemy and shoot it down."

"That's pretty rough on the civilian pilots and their passengers; but the sky's clear now and I don't suppose there'll be another raid for a few hours, at any rate, so I think we'll chance it and get out while the going's good."

"I'm sorry, but that's impossible. As I've told you, the airport's closed until further orders and no planes of any kind are to be allowed off the ground."

Gregory was getting worried, but he tried not to show it as he said: "That's all very well as a precautionary measure; and it's only right that every pilot should be warned what he may be letting himself in for if he goes up; but once you've issued the warning it's the pilot's own responsibility."

"Oh, no, it's not," the official disagreed quickly. “Finland is responsible for the safety of neutrals as long as they're flying over her territory. If we had a decent Air Force we should be able to protect them from attack. As we haven't, the only thing we can do is to protect them against themselves by refusing to allow them to go up. It wasn't our fault that those three were shot down this morning but we shall have the job of explaining to their Governments how it came about and, naturally, we don't want to explain any more such incidents if we can possibly avoid it."

"What are you going to do if I insist on going up?" Gregory hazarded.

"The air port police would prevent your taking off, sir, and I'm sure you don't want to give us any unnecessary trouble when we have so much on our hands already."

"Of course not," Gregory agreed. "But is there anyone else that I can see someone from whom I might be able to obtain a special permit?"