AMANULLAH

a step should be taken without delay. And at half-past
ten one morning, the Kabulis must have been amazed
to see a great Vickers bomber, its wings marked with the
circles of the British Air Force, circling over the city
once and alighting gently on the Afghan Government
landing-ground. Nobody yet knew what would be the
outcome of that courageous move.

It is presumed, however, that steps had been taken
to ensure that its arrival and its departure would be
safe from the attentions of either side. Amanullah's
anxiety to prevent the embroilment of foreigners in the
civil war was well known. The safeguarding of the
ticklish operation from the hostility of the rebel troops,
however, was another matter. It can only be assumed
that Sir Francis Humphrys, like a wise neutral, had
managed to extract promises from both sides for the
safe conduct of the machine.

The aeroplane had come from Peshawar, and had
made the journey of 140 miles direct in an hour and a
half. It had traversed country of the wildest description.
Anywhere on the route, a mechanical failure would have
meant disaster. Quite apart from the hostile and
inflamed tribesmen and brigands who haunted the
country, there was, ever present, the risk of a forced
landing in that mountainous territory.

The temperature was several degrees below freezing-
point in Kabul. The pilots froze, even in their electrically
warmed suits. Every flight was a chance in the dark,
for the coming of more snow was expected any day,
and a snowstorm would mean certain disaster in the
bad visibility.

All these points were taken into consideration when,
for the first time, aeroplanes were used for the evacuation
of the besieged. History was being made, by young
casual adventurers who set off from Peshawar on an

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