Fire in the skies

It was an easy matter for the crew of the Zeppelin to follow the trail that we had left. For a minute our spirits rose as the airship passed overhead, leaving us in its wake. But the hope was short-lived. The pilot was turning his ship around so that its nose faced into the wind, its airscrews pushing against the breeze so that it sat, as steady as a rock above our heads. And then it began to rain bombs around us so that the trees burst into flame. But something went wrong. One of the bombs seemed got caight underneath the envelope and, within seconds, the Zeppelin was a solid mass of flame. The stricken monster began to sink and the engines failed, allowing the wind to carry it away.
We lost sight of it behind the trees and we had our own fires to fight but we worked in silence, each of us thinking of the airmen who had so recently been our enemies but who now warranted only pity.