I
A FLYING FIGHTER
3
Lieut. E. M. Roberts, R.F.C.
A
FLYING FIGHTER
An American above
the Lines in France
BY
Lieut. E. M. ROBERTS, R.F.C.
Formerly •/ the Tenth Canadian BaUalion
ILLUSTRATED
HARPER y BROTHERS PUBLISHERS
NEW TORK AND LONDON
cop \
A FtYiNC Fighter
Copyright, 1918, by Harper & Brothers
Printed in the United States of America
Published March, xqiS
B-S
To
The memoby op
CAPTAIN E. A. BUENEY
Killed in action on the Somme
July, 1916
For I dipt into the future, far as human eye could
see
Saw the Vision of the world, and all the wonder
that would he;
Saw the heavens fill with commerce, argosies of
magic sails, .
Pilots of the purple twilight, dropping down with,
costly hales;
Heard the heavens fill with shouting, and there
rained a ghastly dew
From the nations airy navies grappling in the
central hlue;
Far along the world-wide whisper of the south wind
rushing warm, ^ ,
With the standards of the peoples plunging thro
the thunder-storm;
Till the war-drum throhVd no longer, and the
hattle-fiags were furled.
In the Parliament of man, the Federation of the
world.
—From "Locksley Hall," hy Alfred Tennysw.
I
/
CONTENTS
CHAPTER VAG^
I A Start at Soldiering i
II Getting Near the Front .... i6
III Gassed 26
IV Sped BY Machine Guns 36
V Running the Gauntlet .... 47
VI Wounded Again 65
VII Joining the Flying Corps .... 80
VIII My First Flight 97
IX My First Hun . 112
X My Commission 124
XI Battering the Hun . . . . . .138
XII "Pizz" AND "Randie" 147
XIII Daredevils 162
XIV The Big Push i7S
XV Learning to Fly 201
XVI Stunts and Accidents . . . . . 226
XVII Air Battles over the Lines . . . 245
XVIII Back to Blighty 267
XIX Old Times and New 287
XX Meeting the King 299
XXI In the Clouds 320
APPENDIX
Just Flying Man's Talk 333
ILLUSTRATIONS
Lieut. E. M. Roberts, R.F.C
An English Recruiting Poster
Thirty-five Hundred Loaves of Bread for the
Boys
Author as Despatch Rider
At Home •
Awaiting Orders
Good Pals
A Slight Mishap
City of Albert, France, Taken from Seventy-
five Hundred Feet with Machine on Ver-
tical Bank
Slightly Nose-heavy
Ready for Action
The Pilot
Helmet Worn by Author When Wounded in
the Battle of THE Somme, July 2, 1916 . .
Inside Out, Showing Where Pieces Went In,
and Blood
Prom Left to Right: Bullet Lodged in Gasoline
Tank at Thirty-six Hundred Feet. — Shrap-
nel Ball Which Went Through Carbureter
AT Twenty Thousand Feet. — ^Tappet Rod
Which Burst at Seven Thousand Feet. —
Bullet Which Struck Author in Side
Shot Down from Ten Thousand Feet
A Bad Landing in a Heavy Gale . .
Leaving for the Lines
12A Bombing and Fighting Plane . .
A Squadron of Single-seated Fighters
A Pair of Birds, Author and Machine
Frontispiece
Facing p.
40
40
124
124
" 124
124
" 154
" 154
" 154
196
196
196
262
262
316
316
328
328
PUBLISHER'S NOTE
Although Lieutenant Roberts's modest
preface makes little reference to the exploits
which he has lived through, the readers of
the extraordinary story which follows may
care to know a few personal facts at the out-
set. It was in 1914 that this adventurous
young American enlisted, and it was early in
1915 that he reached the Western Front. It
was not until November, 1917, that he re-
turned to this country. In that time he won
his commission and more than won the air-
fighter's title of Ace, for in his battles he
has brought down not merely five but seven
Huns. His victories did not leave him un-
scathed. He was wounded four times in mid-
air, once at the Battle of the Somme. And
certainly after such service there is a story
to tell which, as it seems to those who have
known it, has not been equaled in its own field
for intensely human interest and dramatic
quality.
PEEFACE
This is the story of three years of active
service on the Western Front, most of the
time in the Flying Corps. I hope that the
story will interest readers. If not, it cer-
tainly will not be the fault of my experiences
in themselves.
The leaders of the Allied forces in Enrope
have realized long since that air service is
one of the premier branches of the military
establishment. The aerial observer has come
to be the eyes of the army. It is he who
often brings the first news that the enemy
is getting ready for an o:ffensive. Upon him
the commanders rely for information as to
all movements behind the enemy lines. The
aerial observer directs the fire of his artil-
lery, and, finally, when the men go over the
top, he is often the sole means of communica-
tion between headquarters and the firiag line.
It is needless to say that the enemy is not
THE FLYING FIGHTER
in ignorance of the great service rendered by
the airman. To cripple that service as much
as possible he sends up his own aviators,
especially when his anti-aircraft batteries
have failed him. It is then that the man aloft
is called npon to defend himself as well as
those on the gronnd, to whom he is giving the
best that is in him. Then comes the aerial
duel. And in mot cases one of the com-
batants crashes to the ground — ^it has been his
last flight.
These are the things which I have set down
here.
But I have not overlooked the humorous
side of the airman's life. After nerve-rack-
ing hours in the air the necessity for relaxa-
tion is great, and then he generally applies
himself to that with the same vigor that
marks his conduct while on duty. Ours is a
short life, so why not make the most of it
while it lasts? That is the axiom of all bird-
men.
But while there are plenty of thrills in
this fighting in the air, I have not written
solely for the purpose of entertainment. My
three years at the Front have made me realize
PREFACE
more than ever that the Great War is not
yet won. It has been said a thousand times
that this is not simply a "War between armies.
Since my retnrn from the battleground I have
asked myself the question: To what extent
does the American public realize that the
World War is a titanic struggle between all
the economic resources and forces of the
nations involved rather than simply a war
between the fighting armies?
I have come to the conclusion that Ameri-
cans generally do not recognize this in spite
of the introduction of meatless and wheatless
days and coal saving. The reason seems to be
that we are too far away. "We are handi-
capped by distance. So far the United States
has only begun to feel the War, as its effects
are measured in European countries. Let
us hope that realization of the War's mean-
ing and responsibilities will become general
before it is forced home by hundreds of thou-
sands of casualties. Efficient preparation
will prevent losses in the end.
E. M. R.
New York, February, 1918.
CHAPTER I
A STAET AT SOLDIEEIHG
An American, born in the city of Dn-
luth, Minnesota, I had inherited a love of
adventure which asserted itself strongly
while I was young. When a lad ten years old,
I ran away from home and started ont to see
the Great Northwest and' make my own way
in the world. And since that time the greater
part of my schooling has been in the Univer-
sity of Hard Knocks. A great many of my
companions were men made famous by Jack
London in his works; indeed, Jack himself
was a good friend of mine, having done me
many a good turn; in fact, he once saved my
life.
After leaving home, I was attracted by the
woods and took up lumbering. But after an
accident in a sawmill, I had to give it up.
1
THE FLYING FIGHTER
Then I crossed the border over into Canada
and from that time on I took np anything and
everything. I went into mining, then I went
into the automobile game. Then I tried rail-
road construction work, cow-punching, sheep-
raising, and when war broke out I was up in
the foothiUs of the Rockies drilling for oil.
It will seem incredible when I say that the
Battle of the Mame and the first battle of
Ypres were matters of history before I knew
that there was a war, and that the greater
part of the civilized world was arrayed
against Germany and German Militarism. In
October, 1914, I started from the plains for
a short visit to Calgary. On my way I had
to catch a train at Okotokos, where I had
bought a steak which was wrapped up in a
newspaper. Butchers and customers in that
country were not particular in matters of
hygiene. I saved the paper to read, for I had
been away from all settlements for some
weeks ^nd had heard nothing of the War. The
headlines broke the news to me that Germany
had taken it upon herself to decide the ques-
tions of the day by the sword. It struck me
that this would provide the excitement I had
2
A START AT SOLDIERING
been looking for. But I little thought when:
I first saw those headlines that from that
time on my fate wonld be in the hands of des-
tiny and that the breaking of log jams on the
Five Miles Rapids in the Mississippi, service
with the Sheriff's posse chasing cattle thieves,
and shootnps in the barrooms of cow towns
where half the participants were killed wonld
all be like pink teas compared with what lay
before me on the Western Front of the Great
War.
I had come to Okotokos for the purpose of
having a conple of days in which to clear np
some freight which lay in the yards. In spite
of that, I soon found myself on the way to
Calgary, where I figured on having a few days
with friends whom I had not seen in a long
time. I had come ninety miles from my camp,
making the trip in a day and a half in my
eagerness to see town.
At Calgary I met an old friend of mine
called Ross, but known to his intimates as
''The Fish," from the fact that he was a
native of Nova Scotia. We shook hands and
sailed a few schooners across the bar of the
good hostelry where I had put up. The only
3
THE FLYING FIGHTER
thing we talked of was the War. * * The Fish "
told me there had been a call that morning
for some two or three hundred men for service
in Europe, and he added, Let's join." I
said, **Jake," meaning all right, as that was
exactly what I expected to hear from Fish, for
I knew him to be an adventurer and a good
fellow. And though neither of us had ever
soldiered a day in his life, we made up our
minds to join the forces that were being raised
if they would have us. We spent the greater
part of that night talking war and killing a
few regiments of Huns over the cup that
cheers.
Next morning the papers were full of what
the Germans were doing in Belgium and that
increased our determination to enlist. We
were a little cautious, however, and before
starting for the recruiting place we looked up
a friend and had him explain to us the for-
malities that would have to be gone through.
The only advice 'he could give was that if we
didn't hurry up, it might be all over before
we enlisted. This was quite enough and in-
side of two hours I was a member of the Tenth
Canadian Infantry Battalion.
4
A STAET AT SOLDIEEING
After taking a look at the barracks I
thought it no more than prudent to straighten
out my personal affairs. My boss, an
American by the name of Saunders, thought I
was crazy and said so.
Before you get over there, the war will
be over," he said.
And before it is over you will get into it,^'
I returned.
I cannot recall now whether I meant that
or not, but, as the saying goes, many a true
word is spoken in jest. Ten months later, Mr.
Saunders had taken up recruitiag work for
the Canadian Government, being too old for
service in France.
As a parting present he gave me a box of
cigars, together with the good advice one gen-
erally hands out to a young man about to
become a soldier.
I returned to the barracks and did my best
to find military life agreeable. While the
call issued had been for three hundred men,
at the most, about seven hundred actually
volunteered, so that I thought myself lucky
to have been accepted.
The officer in charge of the barracks knew
5
THE FLYING FIGHTER
lue quite well. He also knew of my familiar-
ity with mechanics, and for that reason caused
me to be transferred to a mechanical trans-
port section. I cannot say that this pleased
me greatly. That job seemed a little too tame.
At any rate I thought that my days in the
zone of danger were over then and there.
Later, however, I was to find out that this was
a very premature conclusion, especially when
trench warfare, and warfare of several other
kinds, came to be my daily lot.
I managed to get my pal, **The Fish,"
transferred with me, and that helped both of
us to get over the rude shock to which our
great enthusiasm had been subjected. The
day after enlisting we were sent in a west-
ern draft column to Valeartier, Quebec.
Henceforth, * 'fours right" and "fours left"
got to be all there was in life.
**Evoluting" on the camp ground gave me
a new opinion of military life. I could not
see why on earth we had to do all this when
they wanted men in France. Of course, I had
a hazy notion that discipline was necessary,
and that I should not call the Colonel
* * George ' * on parade. But why all this walk-
6
A START AT SOLDIERING
ing? My idea of warfare was to fight from
tree to tree and rock to rock in the manner
which once was famous in the West. I knew
nothing of trenches and cannot say that I
cared to know anything about them. My
vision of handling shovels was too closely as-
sociated with railroad building and mining.
I have done pick and shovel work in my time
and it seems to be an excellent occupation for
men with weak minds and strong backs. But
not for me.
However, they have the knack of shatter-
ing dreams aroxmd military camps. Mine
went with the rest, but the cause, for which
I had enlisted, seemed so good that I resolved
to put into practice the meaning of the motto
— Everything is worth trying once. More-
over, soldiering did not seem so very unrater-
estiQg, despite its routine and restrictions.
Fiaally, here was the chance of seeing a new
country.
Weeks and weeks of training were our lot.
It was a case of getting up at 5 :30 in the morn-
ing in temperatures that seemed to stay more
or less around 30 degrees below zero. After
getting up we would run several times around
7
THE FLYING FIGHTER
a race track for exercise, have breakfast, and
then spend the greater part of the day in
similar body and mind hardening work. I
will confess that had I known what was in
store for me no team of horses could have
dragged me into an army. My idea had been
that I should be given a uniform and a gun;
then I would sit down and wait for orders
to sail to France and get into the thick of it.
Some of the boys grumbled a little at the
delay, but in the end we all made up our
minds that now we. were in it there was noth-
ing to do but stick to it and hope for the
best. The first seven years would be the
worst, said some kind people, intending to be
facetious.
But all things come to an end, and so did
the eternal setting-up drills at the camp.
Finally I got a job driving one of the heavy
motor trucks, known in the British Army as
a lorry.'' Not very long after that I was
made a sergeant in a mechanical transport
section and sent to Toronto, Ontario, to train
with the Second Division.
This transfer was not what I had been
looking for. I had hoped to stay in the
8
A START AT SOLDIERING
mobile army and get some fighting in the
line. But people had a knack of remember-
ing that I knew a little abont the antomobile,
and in Canada snch men were rare.
The order came that aU Americans were
to be onsted from the army. But the Com-
manding Officer called the Americans to-
gether and asked ns if we wanted to take our
discharge or not. One man did this but the
rest of us stayed. We were required to sign
new attestation papers, but before we could
do that, we had to select some particular part
of Canada as our nominal birth place. I
stated that I was born in Sasalta, Alberta.
Another man said that he hailed from To-
ronto— in fact, none of us had any trouble
finding fictitious places of birth in the Do-
minion until it came to Tom KeUy, of Chi-
cago, who had given the matter no thought.
To the officer who questioned him, he said
that he was bom in BeansriUe. The officer
wanted to know where BeansriUe was located,
and Kelly replied:
**0h, somewhere in Fish Country."
The officer promptly put down Beansville,
Nova Scotia, and everything was in order.
9
THE FLYING FIGHTER
I didli't drive the lorry very long after
that, being set to work to initiate recruits into
**fours right and left/' ^'sections and half-
sections,' ' and the like. When not occupied
with driU I wonld take a turn as orderly
(dog) sergeant of the day, mount guard at
night, and see that everything was clean and
ship-shape in the little zone that was mine, in
order to please the officer of the day when he
did his rounds.
There was also a great deal of clerical work
to do. I had to write all the passes for the
men getting leave to go into town. With
that came responsibilities, which often were
irksome. The passes for the men had to be
taken to the Commanding Officer for his con-
sent and signature, and when the officer re-
fused to honor one of them, I generally
was blamed for it, especially when a fellow
had made an appointment with some young
lady.
There was a fence around the camp and
many a man, refused admission to go to town,
had his first experience there at * Agoing over
the top." And though the top of the fence
was lined with barbed wire, the boys put a
10
A START AT SOLDIERING
plank over it, and many a night that plank
worked overtime. To get back into barracks
was a little more difficult, however; but gen-
erally the man who had gone without leave
straightened things ont with one of the
guards, and so avoided trouble with the au-
thorities.
Intoxicating drinks of any sort were pro-
hibited in camp, but for all that many a bottle
was smuggled in, even after systematic search
of the men returning from town. Some of
the men were most resourceful in finding
places where they could hide the flasks. They
would secrete them in their riding breeches, in
their caps, and when this no longer worked,
they went so far as to buy cakes a little larger
than a flask, hollow them out and then put
the bottle in it. These delicacies were sup-
posed to come from home and the guards were
fooled for a long time until one day a cake
made a most peculiar noise as it was being
examined by a non-commissioned officer. As
he shook the cake, a f amUiar sound fell upon
his ears. It sounded like liquor in a bottle.
Whereupon this avenue of importing intoxi-
cants into the camp was closed, and the
11
THE FLYING FIGHTER
sergeant inspector was richer by one bot-
tle, which was divided among the guard.
It was an easy thing in those days to get
kicked out of the army altogether, for men
were still plentiful, and one had to be almost
a physical marvel to get into the service
at all.
We spent some time in a camp on the shores
of Lake Ontario, where uniforms were finally
issued to us. The funny little coats they
gave us, and the regulation breeches had a
queer look about them; I felt that my friends
back home, had they seen me in this get-up,
would have had me examined as to my sanity.
For ridiQg breeches were only used by the idle
rich, in the Northwest.
The underwear they issued us was even
more of a trial. It was rough and a person
putting it on for the first time had the im-
pression that the **kooties'* had settled all
over him, as indeed they did in the case of
many.
Though I had done everjrthing possible to
keep these insects away from me, I discov-
ered that my efforts were unavailing. It got
to be a question of how to get rid of the pests,
12
A STAET AT SOLDIERING
and, having heard of a method that would
accomplish this, I thought that I would try it.
We had a dog for a mascot, and dogs, as
everyone knows, have fleas. It is said that
there is eternal enmity between kooties and
fleas and that one will not stay where the
other is. With that in mind, I transplanted
a few of the fleas upon myself, so that they
might declare war upon the kooties and drive
them out. But before the experiment could
be successfully concluded, I thought it well
to apply a chemical remedy ; anyway the de-
sired result was obtained, which gave me
what I hoped for.
By this time most of us had become familiar
with the little tricks of barrack life. We
had a good doctor, who thought nothing of
excusing us from drill and other hard work
so long as we said that we were sick. The
result of this was that many of us were sick
every cold morning that came along, espe-
cially when the night before we had done
overtime playing poker and rolling the
bones."
The money that was won at these games
was in 1. 0. TJ.'s generally, but now and
13
THE FLYING FIGHTER
then one actually managed to get some real
cash. Gambling got to be a mania with ns
and the gang would sooner play poker than
eat. It ultimately reached a point where the
men would play for everything and anything,
even their shoes. And the Doc got wise, and
after that when a man went sick he got a dose
of castor oil at the very least.
Our military training was making some
headway, however. We came to understand
the different bugle calls, and we learned how
to handle the rifle and bayonet and how to
shoot.
We were now told that our training would
be completed in England ; France seemed as
far away as ever. Most of us thought that the
war would surely end before we got there.
As week after week passed away the chances
of seeing the battlefield seemed more re-
mote.
But one fine day in March we received or-
ders to get ready to entrain. There was much
hustle and happiness — faces were glowing,
and the old grudges were forgotten. The
preparations for our departure were made
in jig time. A few telenhone calls to wives,
14
A START AT SOLDIERING
mothers and sweethearts, and the men were
ready.
On the day of onr departnre the camp
grounds were packed with relatives and
friends who came to say good-bye ; in the case
of many it was to be a last farewell.
CHAPTER II
GETTING NBAB THE FEONT
Needless to say, we had a hearty reception
everywhere on our trip East. Within six
hours of our arrival at Halifax the organiza-
tion had embarked and was on its way to
Europe.
The first thing that attracted my attention
on our arrival in Liverpool was the funny
little English trains. The coaches with their
compartments did not impress me favorably,
but I found them quite comfortable for all
that. They were so packed that some of us
had to sit on the floor. I also discovered that
these little English trains could move at a
mighty good speed.
At about one o'clock in the morning we
stopped, detrained, and made a long march to
the camp which had been made ready for us.
There we were given blankets and a cup of
16
GETTING NEAR THE FEONT
hot tea ; and then we turned in and soon every-
body was fast asleep, the railroad trip and
the march having made us a weary crew, in-
deed. Next morning, at reveille, we found
that we had come to England for no other
purpose than to continue the dull drilling that
we had left off in Canada. This was disap-
pointing, but we were set to work to get over
it. It had been raining and the mud was
deep enough to lose your shoes in. We were
not used to wet weather and within two or
three days the sick parade was bigger than
usual, and not a few of us were laid up for a
long time. The climate proved too much for
me also. Chills had settled all over me, and
I was hoarse, but despite that I continued my
duties. On one occasion I was in charge of
the sick parade and as I marched the men
over to the doctor I had practically no voice
left. The doctor had some difficulty in under-
standing me, but he was quite cheerful
about it.
"What's the matter with you this morn-
ing he inquired. **You make a sound like
a codfish.*'
I explained that I did not know exactly what
17
THE FLYING FIGHTER
was the trouble, so the doctor took my tem-
perature and called the ambulance. I was
to be taken to a hospital, the very thought
of which gave me the shivers. I suggested
to the doctor that possibly the affair could
be settled without going to the hospital.
**Well,'* he said, **if you don't go now
your friends will be walking slowly behind
you next week.''
That seemed good advice to me, especially
since I was under the spell of the big med-
ical term which the doctor had made use of
so casually — bronchial pneumonia.
I managed to survive the attack and upon
return to my unit found that the Command-
ing Officer had decided to give me back pay
and three days' leave to go to London, a city
which I then saw for the first time.
The British capital was known to me only
through a few pictures of the more important
places, such as Westminster Abbey, the
Tower, and St. Paul's Cathedral. But I had
heard a lot about Leicester Square, Hyde
Park, the Strand, Charing Cross and Picca-
dilly Circus, and I wanted to see them. As
a natural result, at two o'clock in the mom-
18
GETTING NEAE THE FRONT
ing, after my arrival, I found myself lost in
the streets of London. I stated my trouble
to a very obliging Bobby, who was somewhat
handicapped in helping me, for the reason
that I had forgotten the name of the hotel
where I was stopping. There was nothing to
do after that bnt to hire a taxi and spin
aronnd tmtil I should have located the place,
some hazy notion as to its locality being still
in my mind. The taxi hadn't gone more than
thirty yards when I saw the house for which
I had been looking so anxiously just across
the street. And there I learned that the Lon-
don taxi driver knew his busiaess, and also
how to charge.
But further adventures were to come. A
day or two after my arrival in town I
thought I would like to see Piccadilly Circus,
hoping, of course, to find a big tent and a lot
of side shows, and all that goes with an estab-
lishment of the sort. I asked a Bobby for
directions and I remember his making the
remark :
**This 'bus goes right through it."
Thinking that the omnibus was a Circus
Special," I started on my ride without both-
19
THE FLYING FIGHTER
ering much about my destination. There
ought to be no trouble finding out when I
was at the circus. After a ride of about half
an hour the conductor climbed up the stairs
for another fare.
**Say, isn't it near time we got to Picca-
dilly Circus r' I said.
''Why, you went through there about
twenty minutes ago," he replied. **You are
out at Clapham Commons now.'*
There was no doubt that I had missed the
Circus, but I was still anxious to see it and
started out once more in quest of it. I took
another omnibus, gave the conductor his four
pence, climbed on top and rode until I felt
sure we must be somewhere near the Circus.
Just then the conductor came up for another
fare. I wanted to know where Piccadilly
Circus was.
''Why, man, this is Hyde Park Corner,'' he
replied. "We went through the Circus about
five minutes ago."
Having fifteen minutes the best of the first
lap, there was nothing to do but get off that
'bus and think it over for a while. It seemed
a little strange that I should be constantly
20
GETTING NEAR THE FRONT
going throngli the Circus and not see any-
thing of it. I decided to try a taxi, to the
driver of which I gave particular instmctions
to take me to Piccadilly Circns and drop me
off in the middle of it. The man smiled and
drove off. In abont three minntes he stopped
and opened the door for me to get ont. I
looked aronnd for a circns bnt saw none.
The only thing that came at all near remind-
ing me of a show were some flower girls near
a foxmtain. Under the circnmstances it
seemed best to take the taxi driver into my
confidence. After much explanation on my
part, which afforded not a little amusement to
the chauffeur, I learned that Piccadilly Cir-
cus is a sort of semi-circular place into which
lead seven thoroughfares from the several
parts of the city.
The constant traveling I had done on the
'buses had given me a very good appetite, and
to appease it I walked into the first place I
came to. This happened to be one of Lon-
don's ultra-fashionable tea parlors. The
place was fairly well packed at the time but
I managed to find a place at a table. I no-
ticed that everybody was sipping tea and
21
THE FLYING FIGHTER
eating cakes, but that was not the sort of
food I was looking for. The waiter wanted
to know whether I had come to take tea, to
which I replied that a steak about the size of
a barn door, done rare, and served with fried
onions, would suit me much better. The
man's jaw dropped and everyone around be-
gan to smile. I was- informed that this was a
tea-room and not a restaurant. Too timid to
leave the place, I ordered some tea and ate
about two dollars worth of biscuits before I
had satisfied my appetite. I found out then
and there that the cost of living in England
was higher than I had thought. It was
just as well that my stay in London was lim-
ited to three days.
Upon my return to the camp I found that
I had been transferred to a mechanical base
to drive a mobile workshop. This detail gave
me a good opportunity to see much of rural
England and its beautiful scenery. The fine
old trees especially interested me, as did the
lovely old-fashioned houses, the fine lawns
and well-kept orchards; also the hop fields.
A little later I was one of those picked to
go to France in a draft for the mechanical
22
GETTING NEAR THE FRONT
service. Little by little I was moving np
closer to the front. There was a possibility
of running into a submarine or *Hin fish/' as
the Boys called them, while crossing the Eng-
lish Channel, though it was known that they
were not out in full force just then. We
landed in France after an entirely uneventful
journey, and in a little French estaminet we
drank our first French wine. It did not taste
good to me; in fact it was sour. I noticed,
however, that there were many good-looking
girls about the place and they made a much
better impression upon me than the wine had
done.
On the same afternoon I made the acquaint-
ance of the French railroads, the passenger
cars of which are just as fxmny and little as
those of the English lines. We traveled in
freight cars, however, which are large enough
to carry, as stated by a signboard on the sides
of the car, forty men or eight horses — 40
hommes ou 8 chevaux.
In this manner we got to a railroad where
we were met by an English sergeant-major
and taken to a camp which was about six
miles behind the lines.
23
THE FLYING FIGHTER
We thought that we were real soldiers now.
The Commanding Officer of the base to which
we had been taken was not of that opinion,
though. The sergeant-major, who had been
OUT reception committee, had brought ns to
attention before the Commanding Officer with
results that did not seem to have pleased
either of them. The Commanding Officer
gave us to understand that we were to be
drilled and have discipline instilled into us
even if he had to do it with a sledge hammer.
That was definite enough, but we had the sat-
isfaction of knowing that we would not stay
in that place forever, consequently we let his
remarks go in by one ear and out by another.
There was a businesslike air about the
place which impressed us all the more when
presently they issued to each of us a rifle
and fifty rounds of ammunition, and assigned
us the lorries we were to drive.
Before the day had grown much older I
was given a good lesson in discipline. There
was a queer mark on the body of the lorries
— a triangle with a bar in its center. I wanted
to know what that meant, but was given to
understand that it was none of my *'blink-
24
GETTING NEAR THE FRONT
ing" business. All I had to do was to drive
that lorry and keep it clean. There was a
great deal of terseness about that remark,
and I decided not to ask any more questions
that seemed out of order.
Before long that old wagon became to me
bedroom, sitting-room and what-not, all rolled
into one. It wasn't such an uncomortable
home at that.
My lorry belonged to a column that carried
ammunition from the nearest railhead to the
front. The first hurry call we had lasted
three days. The Huns were getting busy on
the salient. On arriving at the advance dump
— ^the place where the gun-limbers get the
ammunition for the batteries — I heard shells
scream for the first time in my life. It gave
me a peculiar sensation at first, though some-
one said cheerfully:
**0h, you'll get used to this."
For all that, I always retained a wholesome
respect for a high explosive shell.
CHAPTEB III
GASSED
OiT the morning of the first day of the sec-
ond battle of Ypres, I happened to be doing
some repair work on the section commander's
automobile. In a nearby field was an artit-
lery ammunition dump, and this the Germans
seemed bent upon reaching with their shells.
The fire was scattered, however, and before
long it became entirely too hot around the
car I was repairing and I was obliged to find
shelter in a bomb-proof. There was a lull in
the fire presently, and I concluded that it
might be safe to resume my work. I had
hardly come to the surface, however, when
the Huns reopened their fire. It seemed best
to get in the car and speed as far away from
the front as was possible. I had gone down
the road some two hundred yards when the
section commander caught up with me and
demanded his car, saying that he was in a
26
GASSED
hurry. So I jumped out and let him have
it.
The fire continued and I could not see what
good it would serve to stay in it. While I was
walking along the road, about three-quarters
of a mile behind the lines, the firing increased
in intensity. The noise fascinated me. For
about two hours I watched the spectacle of a
front in eruption.
There was heavy firing all night, and the
next morning I suddenly smelt something like
chloride of lime. The stench increased all
the time, and presently my lungs began to
feel sore. I had a hard time breathing, and
coming to a ditch I looked into it to see
whether the smell was coming from there,
chloride of lime being used generally for
sanitary purposes. But I saw nothing in the
ditch and my lungs began to hurt more and
more. Finally I took my bandanna handker-
chief and tied it over my mouth. A few min-
utes later an ammunition lorry came tearing
down the road. It picked me up and took
me to the railhead, where, with four others,
I was sent to a hospital and treated for gas
poisoning. In three days I was sent to Eng-
27
THE FLYING FIGHTER
land with about twelve hundred other men
who had been gassed or wounded.
That was only one ship-load, however.
Several thousands of other wounded and
gassed men followed us. Many of them were
Canadians whose organizations had lost heav-
ily in the second battle of Ypres, for it was
the first time gas had been used on the Cana-
dians. They were a heart-breaking sight, and
I thanked my stars that I still had a whole
skin.
The effects of the gas poisoning were not
so easily gotten rid of, however. The cure
was painful. It consisted for the major part
of taking a lot of salt water and other emetics
so that the system might be cleared of the
gases assimilated by the lungs. The lungs
remained congested for quite some time, and
a peculiar irritation in the throat caused me
on several occasions to cough myself into
insensibility.
The gas patient is a hard case for the hos-
pitals. I got very little sleep, mainly for the
reason that I was tied up in bed in a sitting
position, which, in the course of time, made
me very ill-tempered and caused me to use
28
GASSED
language which afterward I regretted. Also
I discovered that the hospital was under mar-
tial law, and that this law was enforced as
rigorously here as anywhere else. That
helped me to settle down and take things as
they came, but there were times when I
thought very seriously that it would be better
to die.
One day a doctor came to the hospital and
picked out two patients he wished to cure at
home. I was one of them. The other man
had been wounded in sixteen places and was
a terrible sight. When I saw him first it was
believed that he would die, but within a few
days he recovered sufficiently to stand the
transfer from the hospital to -a place called
Hawkhurst, near the doctor's home in Kent.
The two of us were given a large front
room. But I could not stand the sight of my
companion in misery. So he was presently
taken to another part of the house. I can't
remember the name of the man, but I know
that he belonged to the artillery and that a
Hun shell had burst about a foot above his
head. His scalp was terribly lacerated and
a piece of shrapnel had entered at the side
29
THE FLYING FIGHTEE
of the nose and emerged at the side of the
neck. One of his eyes was black and closed,
and the other eye he seemed unable to ever
close. The only part of his body that was
not bandaged was his right forearm, and that
moved day and night.
I think he was conscious part of the time,
for now and then he would utter a loud groan
that made me jump. Fearing that the man
was dying, I would call the night nurse and
she would summon the doctor, a man who had
the patience of J ob, as was shown one night
when he was called six times and still man-
aged to be pleasant and cheerful. He really
deserved a medal for his unfailing good
temper.
The people in that part of the country were
very anxious to make us as comfortable at?
possible, and they even got permission to
take me to their homes. One old gentleman,
of the name of Hardcastle, took me all over
his place. He was somewhat of an Ameri-
can, having operated at one time a cattle
ranch in New Mexico.
Of course the odor I had mistaken for the
smell of chloride of lime was that of German
30
GASSED
chlorine gas. I 'had breathed only a little of
it and the effect had been bad enough. The
troops on the firing line had suffered terrible
losses from the gas. Shortly after that gas
masks were issued and though they were very
inconvenient, they were indeed life-savers and
we welcomed them.
After my discharge from the hospital I was
attached to a mechanical transport colnmn in
England and in August, 1915, we received
orders to proceed to France. The trip to the
nearest seaport had to be made over the conn-
try roads. I was section sergeant and in this
capacity had to scout the roads ahead of the
colnmn, on a motor cycle, thereby gaining the
title of ''The Human Sign Posf In addi-
tion to that I had to keep the convoy together.
We passed through a lot of little English
towns and lived mostly on bully beef and hard
tack, though occasionally the farmers and vil-
lagers along the road would ask us to eat with
them.
Trouble seems to come in bunches, and I
had several such bunches on that trip. As
section sergeant I was riding a motor cycle,
usually at great speed, with the result that
3 31
THE FLYING FIGHTER
my face was all wind-bnraed. The men,
moreover, seemed bent on raising Cain before
getting to France. There are a good many
parallel roads in the parts of England we
were going throngh, and often there are no
signs on them. Since some of the fellows did
not like the big clonds of dnst that were be-
ing raised by the motor tracks in front, they
wonld hang back and take some other road,
nsnally the wrong one. That kept me bnsy.
Keeping the convoy together at night, when
often I had trouble with the headlight of the
motor cycle, which had gone on strike, was
no easy work. The roads all had high trees
on each side, which made them look very
much alike and kept them all the darker at
night.
Hunting stray motor tracks nnder these
conditions was not easy and generally so
many were missing that I had to keep racing
back and forth at high speed. One night I
was hurrying along one of these roads, steer-
ing by a speck of sky visible under the tree
crowns. Suddenly I came to a turn in the
road, missed it in the dark and ran full speed
into a high hedge. The motor cycle landed
32
GASSED
in the ditch and I was catapulted over the
hedge in a somersanlt. I had jnst come to a
sitting position when somebody spoke to me.
It was the colonel of an artillery camp who
was on his rounds of inspection. He found
my sudden arrival in his camp very funny,
and laughed over it. Then he helped me back
over the hedge. I found that the machine was
still in working order and decided to take
time to fix the headlight. Fortunately, I was
none the worse off for the fall.
The convoy made good progress, however*
Accidents were few. The most serious of
them happened one day while we were going
through a little village. One of the lorries
hit a milk cart in the stern and drove the
horse through a store window. But nobody
was hurt. Another few miles -brought us to
our goal — the seaport — though before we
actually reached it I hit a cement block about
a foot high while going at the rate t)f
thirty miles an hour and had a very fine
spill.
It did not take us long to embark the con-
voy and a few days later we arrived at Eewan,
in France, where we spent two days resting
33
THE FLYING FIGHTEB
up. Then the convoy was formed into column
and started for the front.
We were required to travel as fast as we
could, stopping only for our meals of bully
beef and hard tack. For three weeks that was
the only thing we had to eat, and upon our
arrival at the first parking place, we began
working day and night, to gather up and
feed the Second Division, which was just then
pouring into France ready to get into action.
Some of the machines were detailed to pick
up stragglers, who were dropping out of the
ranks during the long route marches over
cobble-stone roads, while others were en-
gaged in filling up the railhead with provi-
sions and forage. This sort of thing con-
tinued until we got closer to the advanced
railhead, and there our real work began.
But before we got that far, two others and
myself who had motor cycles made a trip to
the nearest first line trenches where we had
some friends. To do that was not easy, but
we had no real trouble until we got to where
the road pickets were. These we bluffed with
the usual statement that we had dispatches.
I may say that we did not always get away
34
GASSED
with the bluff. Some of the road pickets
would want to see our identification papers as
dispatch riders, and being unable to produce
the goods we were often turned back. In that
case we would ride a short distance down the
road, get off our cycles, cover them with
leaves and branches so that no one could see
them, and then crawl around the picket on
hands and knees until we were out of sight.
We were all right as soon as we got to the
communication trenches, so long as we knew
the name of the battalion we wanted to visit.
Many queer things happened on these side
trips. A pal of mine, named Emory, was
caught in the wrong sector and though
he had proof of his identity, the Command-
ing Officer, to teach him a lesson, made him
go out into No Man's Land to a listening post.
After having been thoroughly scared by the
Huns and reprimanded by the Commanding
Officer of the battalion, Emory was sent back
to his unit.
CHAPTER IV
SPED BY MACHINE GUNS
Little excursions to the firing line were
the only diversion the men of the column had.
They also gave us a chance to see a little
more of war than running a lorry allowed.
I had friend in nearly all of the battalions,
and among my pals in the infantry was a
fellow named Brown, who came from the Pa-
cific Coast. I used to supply him with cigar-
ettes and the like.
On one of the windy and rainy afternoons
they get in the autumn in Flanders, I had
gotten through a little earlier with my work
and decided to see Brownie, for whom I had
bought some socks. I managed to get past
the road sentries all right and entered a
little town called D. B. The place has long
since been razed. On the other side of the
little town there is a shallow lake about a
mile and a half wide, which I would have to
36
SPED BY MACHINE GUNS
wade in order to reach my friend. Going
through that lake was not an easy matter.
"While one could be guided by the blasted tree
stumps, along the submerged road, the
ground had to be carefully inspected with
one's feet if the many shell holes in the road
were to be avoided.
Going along the road this afternoon I fell
into three shell craters and had to swim to
get out of them, which was not an easy job
on account of the clothing I had on. I man-
aged to get to the other side of the lake, but
found that only a few of the communication
trenches were safe. Though I was none too
pleased with my trip by now, I decided to
go on. To keep under cover I made up my
mind to go through a little woods, on the
other side of which the British lines were
located. I had a disagreeable experience
among the trees. I stepped on a grave and
the odor that came out of it was sickening.
It had grown dark. I hung my coat on the
cross at the head of the grave and lit a match
to read the name on it — Private Bolton, Black
Watch, the number of his regiment and the
date of the action in which he was killed.
37
THE FLYING FIGHTER
Before the match died out I could see that
there were more of these crosses and from
inquiry I learned that some nine hundred
Black Watch and Scots Greys were buried
there. I was also told that the continual rains
were gradually washing away the earth of
the graves and thus exposing the dead.
My informant was a sniper and he and I
talked war until a working party came up.
It was going the same way I was and I de-
cided to go along. We had to cross an open
spot about fifty yards in width, and the Huns,
who were on the side of a slope about a hun-
dred yards away, knew it. Working parties
and others going to the first line trenches
also had to cross the exposed field. Every
fifteen or twenty minutes the Germans sent
up flares or star shells to light up the ap-
proach to the trenches. Whatever they saw
was sure to be machine-gunned. Many a poor
€hap went down on that lonely and barren
spot.
The locality was dismal in the extreme. On
the few trees that were standing hardly a
branch was left. The ground was mucky de-
spite the efforts that had been made to regu-
38
SPED BY MACHINE GUNS
late the rain water by means of sand bags.
It seemed to me that in Flanders they have
nothing but rain. It came drizzling down in
a world that was all gray except when lighted
up by the star shells of the Germans, which
would throw a ghostly light on the surround-
ing country and then make it look all the
more lonesome. I only wished that I were
back in North America.
I did not like the idea of going over the
exposed field and decided to cross it by means
of an old French trench I had noticed. But
I had not gone very far in the trench when
I found it was closed with sand bags to keep
out the water that was coming from the other
side, so that a part of the trench might be
used as shelter against the German machine-
gun fire.
There was nothing to do but to get out of
that trench again, but before I did that I
picked up some French cartridges which I
wanted to keep as a souvenir. In doing that
I discovered that dead men had been buried
in the trench but had evidently been uncov-
ered by the rain. There was nothing to do
but go to the front line with the working
39
THE FLYING FIGHTEE
party which was just starting across the ex-
posed spot one at a time. The men would
start as fast as legs conld carry them.
Spurred by the thought that the German ma-
chine guns might hit them they traveled
some.
The Boche had learned, however, that the
working party was on its way across, and as
each man started to run the machine guns
would speed him on his way.
The machine guns worked with a rapid-
ity of six hundred shots a minute. The
fourth man of the working party was half
way across the open field when he pitched
head first to the ground and lay still. The
next man rushed to where the other had
fallen, picked him up, swung him on his back,
and then continued his running as fast as he
could.
The star shells of the Germans came closer
together now, and the machine guns fairly
rattled at the two men.
We stood there with open mouths, hoping
that the man carrying the wounded would
not get hit and in our hearts we cursed the
Huns who were doing the shooting.
40
AN ENGLISH RECRUITING POSTER
THIRTY-FIVE HUNDRED LOAVES OF AUTHOR AS DESPATCH RIDER
BREAD FOR THE BOYS
SPED BY MACHINE GUNS
The man finally gained a trench on the
other side of the open ground, much to onr
relief. At least one of the men was safe.
The race with death started anew. Other
members of the working party rushed across
the open space as fast as they could. One of ^
them fell, but he rose again and continued
his mad race for the trench opening be-
yond.
It got to be my turn. A rubber coat I was
wearing hampered my movements and also
reflected much of the light of the star shell
which just then went up. I was nearly in the
middle of the exposed field when Fritz started
his machine gxm and caused me to move faster
than before. My speed was a surprise even
to me, and, despite the fact that I was ham-
pered by the weight of wet clothing, I ap-
proached the opening of the trench on the
other side with such momentum that I was
carried past it ; I landed head over heels in a
telegrapher ^s dugout and knocked his stew
and fire all over the shack.
I had deprived that man of his supper after
he had risked his life to get some wood across
the open space. He was drawing for his fuel
41
THE FLYING FIGHTER
supplies on a shell-blasted house about two
hundred yards behind our line.
The man cursed me roundly, for which I
do not blame him. He had been flirting with
death to get enough wood for his supper and
now I had spoiled it aU. For two weeks he
had lived on bully beef and hard tack.
I squared myself by giving him a pocket
alcohol lamp which I always carried with me.
That appeased his wrath, and he was kind
enough even to direct me to the first line
trenches.
To get to the first line of the trenches I
would have to take a certain communication
trench, said the telegrapher. I started off
through the deep mud, entered at the opening
of the communication trench, but found that
the ditch had been plugged up with sand bags
to keep the water out.
It was the practice during rainy weather
to cut off sections of the communication
trenches in order that they might remain
passable. The rain water collected in the
deeper lying parts, from which it was lifted
by means of hand pumps.
To get out of the communication trench at
42
SPED BY MACHINE GUNS
the **plug" meant to run once more into the
machine-gun fire of the Germans. But there
was no help for that. So I went over the
top and reached the next stretch of the com-
munication trench on the double quick. After
a seemingly interminable wade through the
mud, which formed the bottom of the trench,
I finally got into the British first line to find
that my pal was on picket. It would be an
hour before I could see him.
That time I spent in the company com-
mander's dugout watching through the peri-
scope the star shells of the Germans. It was
a splendid free fire-works show.
Brownie showed up finely and appreciated
both the cigarettes and the socks I had
brought him.
I hadn't seen my friend in quite some time
and there were many things we had to tell
one another — ^in whispers, of course, because
we were only a few yards away from the Hun
trenches.
Of a sudden some machine guns near us
began to pump lead. Peeping over the para-
pet of the trench we saw that the British had
taken under fire an ammunition party of the
43
THE FLYING FIGHTEE
Germans, which jnst then became visible
through a gap in a stone fence. It seems
that the Hun ammnnition carriers had been
observed a little further away. But they were
in the habit of using the fence as cover. They
would be fired upon promptly every time they
reached the gap. The British were now send-
ing up star shells so constantly that the
countryside was lit up almost as well as if it
had been day. The machine guns kept up a
lively racket and presently they were joined
by the rifles of the men in the trenches. The
field artillery also took a hand in the affair
and before long a very lively scrimmage was
going on. They seemed to have plenty of
ammunition just then. It was either that or
the probability that somebody had mistaken
the nature of the fight, which caused the
howitzers and the heavier pieces also to be
heard from. For over an hour the slam-
banging continued and since there was no
telling what the thing might develop into,
I wished Brownie good-bye with a promise
that I would see him again soon.
On my way back I fell from one mud hole
into another and generally had a very good
44
SPED BY MACHINE GUNS
taste of what soldiering at night means.
Walking in the mud was the hardest of work.
It was a case of pnlling your foot out of
twelve inches of mnck, sticking it in again and
then repeating the operation. By the time
I got to the dngont of the telegrapher I was
dead tired. The thought occurred to me that
I would ask the man to let me stay with him
for the night, but I feared that he was still
angry over the loss of his stew.
There was nothing to do but go on. I man-
aged to cross the open field without being shot
at and so got into the little woods. On the
edge of the lake I fell into a smokebox hole.
In my struggle to get out of it I exhausted
myself so that I had to lie down in the mud
and rest up a while. Then I waded through
the lake, weighing a ton by this time, so it
seemed. My clothing was wet, I was tired
out, and the mud also added to my bur-
den.
I was thankful when I got back on the main
road where the mud was less sticky and not
so deep. It was three o'clock in the morning
before I got into camp, and at five o'clock I
was on the road again with my convoy to
45
THE FLYING FIGHTEE
fetch material for the Eoyal Engineers, to
whom I was then attached.
I had not had a chance to take off my
clothing. When I looked myself over in day-
light I saw that I was mud from head to foot
and that there were six bullet holes in my
raincoat. The bullets must have gone
through the coat while I was running across
the open ground with the coat standing out
straight behind me owing to the speed I was
making. The boys found my adventure of
the night quite interesting, and I bet some of
them two weeks' pay that I could outrun them
under any circumstances.
i
CHAPTER V
BUNNING THE GAUNTLET
Our work at that time consisted principally
of carrying barbed wire to the front through
mud and slush of which there seemed no end.
Northern France and Flanders seemed to be
all mud in the winter — perhaps in summer
too.
A few nights later the section commander
ordered me to make up a convoy of seven
three-ton trucks and proceed to H for
twenty tons of coal. The drivers of the unit
were men from all over the world. I had a
Canadian, an American, an Australian, an
Englishman, a Scotchman, a Swede, a Welsh-
man, and a Frenchman. They were all men
who had lived well in civilian life and the
eternal stew of bully beef, and the hard tack,
made for them a very monotonous bill of fare.
The motor truck drivers anyway never lost a
chance of getting better grub than the army
4 47
THE FLYING FIGHTER
ration, so at the railhead, where the French
were unloading a merchandise train, some of
my men looked aronnd for something to eat.
We fonnd only six tons of coal, which we
loaded on two of the lorries, and while the
men were doing that I went to the base com-
mander's office to find out about the rest.
While I was away from the unit the idle men
looked over the French army supplies, and
soon found that they could use some of them.
They helped themselves to a lot of canned
goods. The prospects of getting a square
meal were too tempting to be overlooked.
The trouble was that the boys were not satis-
fied with little ; instead of taking a few cans
they took several cases, and when I came back
a French officer had my men lined up and a
couple of gendarmes were going through the
lorries looking for the stolen goods.
I was not surprised for I knew my ever-
hxmgry horde too well to think that they
would overlook such a chance to get some-
thing to eat. But for the sake of appear-
ances I asked some of the men if there was
anything wrong. The French officer told me
that they were being searched for stolen
48
RUNNING THE GAUNTLET
goods. That settled it, for I knew that they
had been fonnd out, otherwise the French
officer would not have gone so far as he did.
There was a fine chance for all of us being
placed under arrest and courtmartialed. I
thought the thing over quickly, went over to
one of the lorries, pulled the gendarme out of
it, and then shouted at the other. I asked
them who had given them permission to
search my lorries and was told that the
French officer had ordered it. There was
nothing else to do now but try issues with
the officer. I went over to him and asked him
by what authority he was searching British
lorries without my consent or the consent of
the British base commander. That was walk-
ing on thin ice, of course. The base com-
mander was an Englishman and I was a
colonial ; I doubt very much if he would have
given me protection. I asked the French
officer for his name and address, and told him
that I would report him to my commanding
officer. That helped. My strategem suc-
ceeded, and rather than have more fuss the
French officer thought it best to call off the
gendarmes. And on returning to camp I wa&
49
THE FLYING FIGHTER
given an invitation to a canned chicken din-
ner by my men. Of conrse, I knew where it
came from.
I was coming down the road one night with
a load of barbed wire and pickets when I
noticed a man who had a flash lantern in his
hand. I did not know what the man wanted
and stopped the lorry. "When I got down in
the road I noticed that he was dressed in an
officer's tmiform and saluted him. He
wanted to know where we were bonnd for.
The officer wished to go in the same direction
and asked me to take him along, which I
did. When we had started again he told me
that he was the commanding officer of a
Canadian pioneer battalion. I had been un-
der the impression that I knew the man, but
had been unable to recall who he was.
Finally, I thought I had him placed, but was
still not altogether sure. At any rate I told
him that I had seen him before; just then I
remembered that the last time we had met it
had cost me $30. The officer looked at me in
surprise as I mentioned this interesting fact,
and I inquired whether he was not Magistrate
Saunders of Calgary, Alberta. He said that
50
EUNNING THE GAUNTLET
he had filled such a p^osition at one time and
that his name was Saunders. Then I told
him who I was and I reminded him how on a
certain occasion he had not allowed me to
say anything for myself bnt had jnst tacked
on the $30 fine for exceeding the speed limit
with a motor car. We had a good langh and
parted the best of friends.
Hanling material at night for the Engi-
neers in a neighboring sector, we had to use
a road on which several dispatch riders had
been killed by a spy. It had been announced
that two weeks' leave of absence in England
wonld be given the man who eanght the spy,
and of conrse everybody was on the lookout
for him. Every nook and cranny in that part
of the country had been searched, but nobody
had been found. The only person ever seen
near the road was a peasant plowing his
fields.
About a week after that I met a sergeant
of the police whom I knew well and he asked
me to come with him next morning to head-
quarters. I was there at six o^clock and at
six-thirty that same peasant was marched out
in the little square behind the chateau and
51
THE FLYING FIGHTER
Mindf olded. Sentence of death was then read
to him and for the first time in my life I saw
a firing sqnad march out. It was over soon.
A bnllet through the heart put an end to the
peasant and he was buried without ceremony
as a traitor to France and the Allies.
The sight impressed me greatly and for the
first time I realized fully what it meant to be
a traitor. I went back to the ammunition
dump a very thoughtful man, realizing how
little a life mattered in this great strug-
gle.
That afternoon, the weather being for once
favorable, both sides sent up their captive
balloons. I counted as many as twenty of
them. Most of them were Germans. We had
a few ourselves, but the Germans were better
equipped in that respect. The aeroplanes
also sailed about.
I envied the flyers. Here was I in mud
up to my knees either in the trenches or on
the roads and getting very little out of the
war but lots of hard work. The other fellows
were sailing around in the clean air while I
had to duck shells all the time and run
chances of being caught by the machine guns
52
EUNNING THE GAUNTLET
and snipers. Of course the aviators were
also being shelled, bnt they never seemed to
get hnrt. I had seen some of them hit trees
and other obstacles upon landing or getting
off the ground, bnt the game had always ap-.
pealed to me strongly. To me flying seemed
the very acme of adventnre and I had no
notion, of conrse, how good the German anti-
aircraft batteries were. Flying * * fish-hooks, ' *
burning *^ onions," as we term a certain type
of shell used by the Hun, and forced landings
were things unknown to me. Of the cold
above the clouds and the chances one took in
having to land behind the German lines I had
heard very little.
But I was willing to take a chance for all
that, so long as I could get out of the mud
and had an opportunity to stay indoors at
night. The mechanical transport service was
famous for mud and night work. I was so
thoroughly sick of them both that I was will-
ing to do anything to get away from them.
During the next few days I tried to gather
information as to how I could get into the
Eoyal Flying Corps. I got no satisfaction,
however, for nobody seemed to know exactly
53
THE FLYING FIGHTEB
how so exclusive a circle could be invaded.
Nevertheless, my ambition to get into the
aviation service grew stronger each day, and
each bit of information I could secure was
welcome.
Christmas of 1915 came around, and every
man at the front was looking forward to it on
account of the presents and better food from
home which the holiday season would bring.
The officers of the unit were to give us a tur-
key dinner. The day before Christmas we
were paraded and each man received a pair
of socks, a piece of good maple sugar, and
three packs of cigarettes. From some other
source we received a deck of cards and a
small box of chocolate. Many of the boys also
received Christmas boxes from home, but I
was not one of them.
On the same afternoon I witnessed an event
that to me really seemed worth while. Some
Canadians were to be decorated by the
French for deeds of valor. We were away
north of the French lines, but that made no
difference to the poilus, who also were to
attend the ceremony. They came down in
lorries just as they had left the trenches and
54
RUNNING THE GAUNTLET
they did not have a holiday appearance.
There were about five hundred of them.
After the French soldiers had been lined up
vrith bayonets fixed, the men to be decorated,
twenty-eight in number, were marched into
the square that had been formed. This done,
some of our own troops marched up, headed
by a band that was playing the Marseillaise.
The enthusiasm was great. Those men had
gone through every hardship one can imagine,
and to see some of their comrades honored
seemed to cheer them all. The poilus and our
own men were not exactly a clean looking lot.
There was an unwashed look about their be-
whiskered faces and on the mud-covered gray
coats could be seen many a blood-spot. But
the men were as steady as rocks and pre-
sented arms with a snap that was really
inspiring.
As the British forces came to attention the
French band struck up the Maple Leaf For-
ever," and foUowed this by **01d Canada."
Then the French and British generals shook
hands, and later the French general pinned
the decorations on the Canadians and kissed
each of them on the cheek, wliile our kilted
55
THE FLYING FIGHTER
band played the march past. When it was all
over the generals again sainted each other
and the troops dispersed. The men who had
been decorated did not seem to know what
to do with themselves. Jnst then the gang
who had watched it all rushed upon the poor
unfortunates and carried them shoulder high
to the nearest cafe.
It had been a most impressive affair.
There is something in those French soldiers
and even in the peasants that make one con-
scious of the fact that the French are indeed
a noble race. They were already beginning
to feel the great strain of the war, and though
they showed plainly that it was telling on
them, they were bearing up wonderfully. I
used to ask them whether they were anxious
for peace ; always they said yes, but with the
terms of ourselves and our allies — th^ terms
of the victors. Otherwise they were willing
to fight to the last and I think they have
shown that spirit all the way through.
Christmas evening we had the turkey din-
ner. Those who were in the front lines had
theirs the next day. The front was quiet.
At twelve o'clock on Christmas eve all
56
ETJNNING THE GAUNTLET
firing had ceased and only an occasional
star shell reminded ns that night that war
was still on. These shells are sent np to
gnard against surprise attack. We -^rished
one another all the good things of the season
and Tve even included the Hxins, who were
abont seventy-five yards away. They had
hoisted np a placard over the parapet on
which was inscribed the words Merry Christ-
mas. It was a sight that touched the hearts
of many of ns and one that we will not forget
in a hurry.
We were a rather melancholy crew those
days. Everybody's thought seemed to be
very far from the trenches.
Somebody would shout :
* ' Hey, mate, what are you thinking about ? ' ^
and back would come the answer :
**Aw, shut up!"
Many of us would have given a great deal
to be home that night, especially when at one
o'clock in the morning the Christmas truce
came to an end with the bark of the rifles.and
the tut-tut-tut-tut of the machine guns. Soon
the field artillery and the heavies" woke up
again, and before long an intense bombard-
57
THE FLYING FIGHTER
ment of the sector was on. When daylight
came the ambulances were bnsy carrying out
the wounded and dying and many were buried
on Christmas Day.
That afternoon I received two letters from
home and two others from friends in Eng-
land, which was really a big mail. I also re-
ceived a very small box about the size of a
jewelers' case and very neatly done up. I
was curious to know what it contained, and
upon opening it found Turkish cigarettes-
lady size, or about the dimensions of a
wooden match. They had been sent me by
a lady with whom I had had tea in England
and who had promised to send me cigarettes.
I sat down and finished the lot, all of them
making just one good smoke. I ended the day
with a visit to a dugout where we had a game
of poker, in which I won twelve dollars, which
was a lot of money, seeing that our pay was
only a franc, or twenty cents a day.
This meant that I had in my pockets a fair
percentage of the company's pay-roll. I
knew that I would have to loan out a consid-
erable share of it before long and that very
little of it would ever be paid back.
58
KUNNING THE GAUNTLET
With some of my winnings I managed to
secure a bath, something which is pretty hard
to get in Flanders, since the natives do not
seem to bathe very often. In Flanders the
bath is taken in a wooden tub in the kitchen,
and one has to scont aronnd nntil some peas-
ant woman is fonnd who is willing to rent
her kitchen for that pnrpose. Taking a bath
is quite an event in that part of Europe. I
was once billeted in a peasant woman's house
where nobody had taken a bath for seven
months. The woman had the habit of wash-
ing the children's faces in the same water in
which she had washed the dishes. After that
I took no chance on her cooking, and a partner
of mine, Will Askey, and I took turns attend-
ing to our food.
During our first months in France we had
near us a Gurka or Indian regiment. And it
was funny to see the little brown men in
camp or in action. They were very interest-
ing. The Gurkas eat a funny cake made by
themselves of flour and water and you could
walk into a Gurka camp most any time and
see some of them squatting in a circle mak-
ing their funny little biscuits of flour and
59
THE FLYING FIGHTER
water which, when cooked, had no taste what-
ever.
They also drank a lot of coffee of the
French kind, which is abont seventy-five per
cent chickory and twenty-five per cent coffee,
bnt it isn't bad to drink at that.
The Hnns had a wholesome fear of these
little Gurkas, for they are wicked fighters,
and they nsed to call them the little black
devils.^' The Gurkas, when ordered over the
top, climbed over the parapet, dropped their
rifles and pnlled out their **kukries," a sort
of heavy knife which is cnrved and looks for
all the world like a hand-scythe for cutting
corn.
This knife was carried in their mouths by
the Gurkas, who, crawling up to the Hun lines
on their stomachs, would bounce into the
Hun trenches and without a word the silent
slaughter would start. They would cut a
Hun's throat, then cut off his ears as a keep-
sake, and one can imagine the terror the Hun
must have experienced when he saw those
wicked little beady eyes full of murder look-
ing at him.
When the Gurkas returned, they would take '
60
RUNNING THE GAUNTLET
their German ears, dry them and string them
around their necks as onr old North Ameri-
can Indians hung scalp locks around their
belts. And if a Gurka had to go to a hospital,
you could take his clothes or anything else
he had, but you could not touch the string of
Hun ears he wore around his neck. All the
Canadians ILked the Gurkas very much, for
they were excellent fighters, and we all
hated to see them taken away to another and
warmer front where the climate was more
suitable for them, and where it was easier to
procure certain kinds of food which they
could not get along without
I was still hoping that sooner or later I
might get into the Royal Flying Corps, but
the chances did not seem very good. I was
still living in the mud and working chiefly at
night for the reason that during the day
German artiUery made all roads of approach
to the position impossible. Neither the mud
nor the night work looked good to me, but
for the time being there seemed to be no get-
ting away from them.
One night about six o'clock I received or-
ders to report at an engineer's dump known
61
THE FLYING FIGHTER
as Hyde Park Corner. I was to bring two
lorries which were to be loaded with barbed
wire and steel pickets. At the dnmp I was
told to proceed to R. E. Farm, the road to
which took ns through a shell-torn village.
On entering the village we had to leave the
main road because that lay in full view of
the enemy. At the other side of the village
the road was re-entered at a point where there
was a screen of sacking, on one side of
which were painted in large letters the
words: Danger! In full view of the
enemy!"
About fifty feet from the screen an old
woman used to keep a coffee wagon from
which she sold refreshments to working par-
ties who used to wait behind the screen until
dark made it possible for them to get to the
front
This particular night Fritz had a hunch
that somebody was going to pass the place
behind the screen. Just as I was approach-
ing the coffee wagon the Huns began to send
over shells and the third one landed right
underneath the wagon and blew it, the lady,
and the old horse into Kingdom Come.
62
EUNNING THE GAUNTLET
It was bad enough to have the old lady and
the horse killed, but to lose that coffee stall
and that cafe complet was really the worst
of all. Cafe complet in this instance meant
that a liberal shot of rum went into each cup
of coffee.
We would have to do without that now, and
the thought exasperated us. Fritz had been
guilty of an unforgivable sin, as anyone would
have concluded from the language that was
used by the boys. In the meantime the shells
were still coming and it seemed extremely
risky to continue on the road, which was so
narrow that only one truck at a time could
pass over it. There was a side road, but that
had three feet of mud on it, nor were we in-
clined to run back three-quarters of a mile to
get another road. The sentry near the screen
let us pass, but I knew that the lorries would
have to get up better speed if they were to
cross the danger zone unhurt.
By means of a governor, the speed of the
lorries was being limited to fifteen miles an
hour. But we had discovered that if the ball
in the governor was held up we could get as
much as twenty-five miles out of the motor.
5 63
THE FLYING FIGHTER
I was heading the column and knew that if my
lorry went faster the others would know what
to do, so I climbed in front of the machine,
lifted the hood and held up the ball in the gov-
ernor. It did my heart good to see the speed
the motor was giving the car now. The other
drivers followed my example and before long
we were tearing down the road with the shells
falling all about us. We had gone another
mile and a half towards the dump, when a
small shell hit one of the armored front
wheels of my lorry and blew it off. The lorry
fell on its axle, but aside from being strained
a little and having lost a wheel it suffered no
damage. We managed to get a spare wheel
and by midnight were on our way back to the
camp.
CHAPTER VI
WOUNDED AGAIN
Five days later I had a like experience
while carrying lumber to the front for the
repair of a field dressing station about two
hundred yards behind our lines. To get there
exposed ground had to be traversed. There
was a similar screen of sacking at that point,
and the sentry who directed the traffic on the
road did not want to let me pass. To lend force
to his arguments he drew my attention to a
nearby field, in which, though only about
three hundred yards square, there were as
many as 150 shell holes. As I was counting
the holes, a heavy bang nearby showed me
that some of our forces were stationed there,
and then I knew why the Germans had dug up
the field so well. They had been looking for
this battery for some time and that accoxmted
for the many shell craters.
I waited at the screen until it was nearly
65
THE FLYING FIGHTER
dark and then continued. My lorry had been
seen, however. As I was taking it around a
corner the Huns cut loose and caused me to
go down that road as fast as the motor would
take me. I had climbed through the head
of the lorry and was lifting up the hood to
release the governor, when I received so
forceful a pxmch in the hips that I was al-
most knocked off. We did not stop but went
right on and upon arrival at the dressing sta-
tion, about two miles from the point where
I had been hit, the doctor picked a bullet out
of my side. Fortunately, it was a spent bul-
let and aside from having the wound steril-
ized I needed little attention. In a few days
I was back at work.
On that trip also I saw a mule hit on the
head by a shell, which showed me what anni-
hilation really meant, as it blew its head off.
Shortly after my return from the hospital
Sergeant Arthur Montgomery Dyas and I
started for the ruins of Ypres in the Canadian
salient to get some furniture for a sergeant's
mess. We got to the place without any trou-
ble and found cover for the lorry in the lee of
a blown-up building. It was a fine day and a
66
WOUNDED AGAIN
Hun Tauhe was sailing overhead. The
British anti-aircraft batteries were concen-
trating upon the airplane, with the result that
a great deal of shrapnel began to fall around
us. We had to get under cover, but anxious
to see what would happen to Heinie aloft, we
ventured out again. The British batteries
were getting the bead on the Tauhe. In the
blue sky around the aircraft shrapnel clouds
were visible and gradually came closer to the
machine. Of a sudden the flash of a shrapnel
appeared directly under the machine, which
seemed to come to a stop immediately, then
broke in two and came hurtling to the ground.
It hit the earth with a crashing sound.
I was still very much interested in mili-
tary aviation, but for a moment I wondered
whether, after all, that game was worth
while.
The German batteries began to look for re-
venge and very soon the battery that had
brought down the Hun birdman received
their close attention. The ruins of the town
were not overlooked. Masonry, bricks and
the fragments of shells filled the air, but the
only casualty I noticed was a large rat that
67
THE FLYING FIGHTER
had made up its mind to cross the road. A
piece of a shell hit the rat. It died then and
there. Montgomery looked at me and I looked
at him, and I guess both of us had the same
thought: even a rat hadn't a chance in those
parts.
After a while the bombardment ended, and
then we started to hunt for furniture in the
ruined houses. We found half a dozen chairs
and a table with a leg blown off, a stove punc-
tured by shrapnel, and some crockery, which
we picked up in a cellar of a building that
must have been a happy home when it still
had all of its three stories and the winding
stairway, of which only parts were in place.
I climbed to the top of the structure, and
looked into the rooms, from which the roof
and ceiling had been blown off by shells. The
furniture was still in the rooms and clothing
was strewn all over the floor. Everything
had been spoiled by rain and the shells and
was on the verge of falling apart, but for all
that it was still evident that it had been occu-
pied by people of wealth.
One of the rooms must have been that of
a young lady. In a dresser I found a pink
68
WOUNDED AGAIN
evening gown and other articles of feminine
apparel. I took it for granted that the owner
of the dress was some beantiful girl, and I
was still wondering what she might look like
when Montgomery sneaked up the stairs and
shouted to me to come down. I took the gown
along and it was one of the treasures of the
mess until I gave it to a peasant girL
On the next floor must have been the room
of the old man. We found several pipes and
a pair of slippers, and a torn night robe.
Back of this room was a sort of conservatory;
it had been a pretty place once, but was that
no longer. All the glass was broken and the
flower pots and boxes lay pell-mell on the
floor, with every plant in them dead. We
examined the rooms on the ground floor and
found that Tommie had been there before us.
In the kitchen we made a haul, however. We
found there a lot of dishes, three cut glass
fruit platters, two soup tureens, some silver
knives and forks, and two kitchen chairs.
Then we went to the wine cellar but not a
drop did we find. A lot of empties gave evi-
dence that somebody had had a good time in
that cellar. On leaving the house I spied a
69
THE FLYING FIGHTER
book. It turned out to be the Old and New
Testament in Dutch, and in it was a card
which I took to be that of the young lady.
The Bible I sent to an old church-going friend
and the card I kept myself.
We were about to drive off when we heard
a dull boom in the distance, and a few sec-
onds later a big shell screeched over us and
exploded a block away. There was no time
to lose, but as we made off Montgomery and
the boys sang a little song from the West :
*'He's a bold bad man and a desperado,
Blows into town like a big tornado;
Steals all the money from the people in the
land.
He's a curly wolf at shooting with a gun in
either hand.''
The ruins of Ypres were a striking sight.
It rather broke us up to see that beautiful
and thrifty little town being flattened to the
ground. There was an oppressive silence in
the streets during the few moments when the
detonation of guns and shells was not heard.
I looked at what had once been the famous
70
WOUNDED AGAIN
Cloth Hall. I had been told by some French
people that it was one of the finest bnildings
in France and Belgium, bnt now all its walls
were hopelessly wrecked. The parts of the
building that had not been blown np were so
shaky that the concussion of nearby explod-
ing shells wonld topple them over. There
was no life in Ypres — ^nothing bnt rats, rats,
and millions of them. I went into several
honses which had been inhabited by people
of wealth and everywhere met traces of the
things which make for refinement — ^paintings,
good fnrnitnre, and beantifnl candelabras.
Everything had been wrecked by the Hun.
Before long the big guns of the German bat-
teries started and their shells again began to
level Ypres, for which they seemed to hold a
hatred.
Shortly after that I had some trouble with
the commanding officer, with the result that I
was transferred to headquarters as a motor
cycle dispatch bearer. Motor cycling on a
good road is a pleasure, but on wet cobble-
stones and in the mud it is anything but that.
It is impossible to go fast because that shakes
the wheel all to pieces and is likely to break
71
THE FLYING FIGHTEE
your neck, and when yon go slow everybody
grumbles. In a country such as Flanders,
especially when the rainy spell is on, motor
cycling keeps you covered with mud from
head to foot, and dispatch riding is the very
thing to keep you going day and night. Occa-
sionally you run into a shell-hole in the dark
and that means that your shins are always
minus much of their bark. Another feature
of dispatch riding is that you move con-
stantly in zones where a shell may call you in
at any moment.
But you aren't supposed -to think in the
Army, as I discovered again, when I had used
my own judgment on one little trip I made. I
delivered my message, but on my way back
I had gone out of my way to see a pal who
was at a wireless station further up the line.
I was having a chat with my friend when
the signal officer came up in his car and saw
me. That was enough. On my return to the
base I was placed under arrest. In the morn-
ing a sergeant escorted me to the command-
ing officer.
That personage wanted to know what I
had been doing ten miles out of my route. I
72
WOUNDED AGAIN
told him that I had seen no harm in going to
see my friend. The commanding officer could
not see it that way. He led me to under-
stand that he was the brains of the company
and that I had no right to think at all — ^that
I was there to ride. But I got even with
him after I was made a commissioned officer.
A severe reprimand was all the punishment
meted out to me. That same night I made a
trip up to the lines and was going along at a
fairly good speed when a scream and a crash
about twenty-five yards ahead of me sud-
denly halted my progress. The next thing
I knew was that I was lying against the bank
on the side of the road some fifteen feet away
from the motor cycle. A pain in my left
shoulder told me what part of my body had
struck the earth first, and when I tried to
move my neck that pain grew more intense.
I began to spit blood. My head started to
buzz.
I noticed that my goggles were missing and
since I had to send to England for them, I
was not anxious to lose them. I saw them
about twenty feet ahead of me and, finding
my legs unsteady, I rolled towards them.
73
THE FLYING FIGHTER
Before I reached them I fell flat twice.
Shortly afterwards I was picked up and sent
to the base hospital and from there to Eng-
land.
Two months later I was back in France and
attached to my old transport section. I f onnd
that there was considerable unrest among the
boys for the reason that all of them were try-
ing to get commissions. By this time also I
had made up my mind to get into the Flying
Corps. Scott and Beatty, friends of mine,
had the same ambition, while others of the sec-
tion were trying for other branches of the
service — Jimmie Brown and Bud Shore for
the artillery, Alexander McCollough for the
machine gun section, and Dyas and Copman
for the infantry.
We secured the necessary transfer forms,
filled them up and sent them in. Meanwhile
we were trying to get information on the na-
ture of an officer's work in the different units.
We had made up our minds to take a more
serious view of army life, but before I heard
anything from my application I was back on
the job hauling coal and ammunition. The
chances of getting into the Flying Corps
74
WOUNDED AGAIN
seemed very remote. They seemed even re-
moter when on the first morning at the dumps
behind the line a shell carried off poor old
McConnell. A steel fragment went through
his head. Poor Montgomery was severely
wounded in the side and though he recov-
ered he was never fit for service after that.
Three days later a Hun plane bombed the
railhead. It dropped six bombs, but only two
of them exploded. But the two did their
work, killing five women and two children and
a police sergeant and his -horse. I looked up
at the plane and wished that I could get at it
for a few miiiutes. The anti-aircraft guns
were working hard to down the machine, but
did not touch it at all.
While in this sector, I saw lots of atrocities
committed by the Germans. Although I could
hardly believe all the stories I heard about
them, there was no vestige of doubt left in
my mind after seeing with my own eyes what
the Huns were capable of doing.
I was driving up the road one afternoon
about four o'clock. The sky was clouded and
n^iade the devastated country look all the more
lonesome. Though ten miles behind the lines,
75
THE FLYING FIGHTER
the guns could be heard plainly and I felt
lonely and homesick.
Beyond the little hill I spied a low red
building with a cross in front of it, which I
took to be a convent. Not being in a hurry,
I thought 'that I would call on the French
Fathers. They are always very interesting
and knowing their language and customs I
felt quite at ease with them.
In response to my knock at the door, a sis-
ter appeared. She asked me to come in and
sent for one of the fathers. He was a white-
haired old man and dressed in a long black
robe with a heavy leather belt around his
waist. A large crucifix was suspended from
his neck.
We began to talk of the war and he told me
of a lot of horrors he had seen — of children
murdered by the Germans when they came to
Belgium, of women outraged, and priests tor-
tured for helping the Belgian soldiers. Then
he took me to see the little convent and there
I saw sights which still haunt me.
We came to a little chapel where nine little
boys were kneeling. Looking at them I found
that not one of them had his right hand. All
76
WOUNDED AGAIN
were nnder twelve years old and the young-
est was four. The little chap kept his right
arm behind his back. It made the blood run
cold in my veins and I thought of the chil-
dren at home. I wanted some sort of revenge
on the Huns.
One of the women in the chapel, the father
told me, spent most of her time praying. Her
little son had been killed and her daughter, a
girl of seventeen years of age, had been taken
away by the Huns.
Later I met many mothers to whom the
same thing had happened. I also saw some
women whose breasts and ears had been cut
off. They had been tortured in the most
cruel ways imaginable. When taking leave of
the old father, I gave him all the money I
had on me, forty francs, for which he thanked
me. He also presented me with a little medal
of the Virgin Mary and blessed me.
I went away with a heavy heart. The
medal I added to my collection. My mother
had given me a similar medal as had also
my sister. An old priest who used to labor
in the little Indian village on the Sarcee
Eeservation, back home in Canada, had also
77
THE FLYING FIGHTEE
given me one. I had f onr of them now, and
carried them strung together with a safety-
pin, safely stowed away in my pocket.
On arriving in camp I was greeted by the
sergeant-major with a torrent of bad lan-
guage, and the order that I proceed immedi-
ately with my convoy to S., with the seven
loads of ammunition that I was to unload and
then return to the railhead. S. was a little
place about a mile behind our first line, and
known for the big shells the Huns used to put
into it in their effort to blow up the ammu-
nition dump.
I had been shelled there on a previous occa-
sion and had just turned into the dump, where
the mud was hub deep, when the shells started
to fall. On one side of the road was a shed
where the working parties detailed to help
unload ammunition were sheltered from the
weather. The first shell to-day fell into this
shed, killing fourteen of the men. I blew my
whistle as a signal for my men to take to
cover. This they did by leaving their seats
and getting under the lorries. We stayed
there for two hours, with a shell coming every
five minutes, which gave us ample time to
78
WOUNDED AGAIN
work our way into the ditch along the main
road. While the body of the lorries gave some
protection, there is no telling what wonld have
happened had one of the German shells hit a
lorry loaded with ammunition or the depot
itself. As luck would have it, however, the
shells fell everywhere but in the dump; so
we thanked our stars, and when the bombard-
ment was over unloaded the vehicles in record
time. We had lost some time and went to
the railhead at a good speed, where I was
informed that the commanding officer wanted
to see me.
6
CHAPTER yil
JOINING THE FLYING CORPS
I HAD visions of more trouble on report-
ing, but I was told by the officer that I was
to fill out my papers for the Flying Corps,
and that he would recommend my transfer to
that branch of service. I could have kissed
him right then and there so glad was I
to have his consent and recommendation. I
walked and rode eight miles up the lines to
iind a doctor I knew. He was at a field dress-
ing station, but I was determined to reach
him. One of the road sentries challenged me
and I was told that he could not allow me to
pass because a raid was on. I walked back
and when out of sight of the picket cut across
the fields on my hands and knees and in that
manner got beyond him. I was taking a
chance of being shot for disobeying the
picket's orders, but I had to see the doctor
that night.
80
JOINING THE FLYING COEPS
I had not gone fifty yards when I heard
^'Haltl Who goes there r'
Since I had not seen anybody, the order
was a shock to me. I nearly dropped from
fright and answered in a weak little voice:
^*Friend."
The picket made me advance and now I
conld see his bayonet glisten in the moon-
light. He wanted to know what I was doing
there. Bnt instead of taking a sympathetic
view of it he began to cnrse me in the round-
est of terms. He was a reasonable per-
son, however, for after a little while he per-
mitted me to go on. It so happened that I
knew several men in his battalion and
that seemed to remove all donbt from his
mind that I was everything that I claimed
to be.
After much hunting I f onnd the field dress-
ing-station, bnt the doctor was busy at the
time dressing wonnds.
One of the wonnded men was a Jock,'' or
a Scotchman, who had been hit in the leg.
The sergeant pnt a cigarette in his month and
lit it ; then he opened the man's coat and shirt
and with a syringe as big as they nse on
81
THE FLYING FIGHTER
horses he inoculated the "Jock" against tet-
anus poisoning, saying:
*'Jock, I'll give yon a hundred francs for
that blighty/' But the Scotchman replied:
*'Ah, mon! it's worth that much for the
thought of Scotland, and the blighty is worth
it ten times. Why, I laid me doon in a shell
hole in No Man's Land and put that foot up
in the air and I waited for a hoor and a half
before the bullet hit me. No, not for a thou-
sand francs this blighty."
Another poor chap had a leg shattered,
which had to be amputated, and no one offered
him anything for that. But the doctor was
very tender with him and soon he was on his
way to the base whence he would be sent to
England.
At about one o'clock in the morning the
doctor was through and then I went to his
dugout.
He seemed glad to see me. As he grabbed
me he shouted :
**Why, you flea-bitten, horse-riding, buck-
jumping old son-of-a-gun, how in the
are you?"
The doctor had a little cache in his dugout
82
JOINING THE FLYING CORPS
and out of that lie took a bottle that contained
something stronger than water. Then I told
him what I had come for. I had known the
doctor in the United States and he had not
forgotten old times despite the fact that he
was a Major. He looked at me quizzically
after I had stated the nature of my errand,
and said :
*^I ought to examine your head. I am sure
that you are plumb locoed. I won't sign
your papers for the Flying Corps, for I
think that you are close enough to death
here.''
We argued the point for a few minutes and
then he signed them, nevertheless. I left the
doctor with a promise that I would write to
him and let him know how I got along.
That was not all the signing that had to be
done. Somebody had to attest my character ;
another my mechanical knowledge and educa-
tion. I thought that a friend of mine of the
name of Starrett could attest to the latter, but
he did not seem inclined to sign the paper.
But after talking to him until I was blue in the
face, he did as requested, and then I started
back for my unit with his good luck wishes.
83
THE FLYING FIGHTER
I arrived in camp at seven o'clock in the
morning.
The day for which I had been hoping so
long had finally come, so that, despite the ex-
ertions of the night, I felt in fine fettle.
After cleaning np I went to the commanding
officer and handed him the papers, now pro-
vided with the necessary signatures. A little
later I had the consent of the Division Gen-
eral, and on the afternoon of the following
day I reported to an air squadron for my
mechanical examination.
A week later I was attached to a squadron
as gunner on probation, and there the game
began.
I was not yet an aviator. The command-
ing officer of the squadron told me that I
would have to take a turn in the trenches for
a week or so to learn what infantrymen had
to go through. After that I was to do a week
in the artillery, and still later I would have a
week in the squadron school. After that he
sent me to a battery then in the first line.
There I was turned over to the Quartermaster
to be fitted out with the necessaries for trench
warfare, which consisted principally of a web
84
JOINING THE FLYING COEPS
equipment for carrying everything one needs
in a trench, pockets for anunnnition, trench-
ing tool, tia hat, mess Ht, and gas helmet.
The load was heavy enough for any pack mnle.
I had not joined the army to take the role of
that animal, but it was my first step to escap-
ing into the Flying Corps, and I wonld have
gone through an ordeal ten times as bad to
attain that end.
I reported at Headquarters at W. P., and
from there I was taken into the front lines,
and withia a week I saw more soldiering than
had been my lot since coming to France. I
was given into the charge of the company
commander, whose nnit was just then on duty
in the first-line trenches. The same night part
of that company went out on a raid and I
was one of them. We sneaked into No Man's
Land and over to the Hun wire.
I had never received special training in that
line of work, but I watched the others and did
likewise. I had been equipped with a gun
bayonet and knew how to throw a bomb.
The covering party was ahead of us, but
before long we also were near the Hun wire.
Just then a star shell went up and we aU
85
THE FLYING FIGHTER
dropped on our stomachs. I was frightened
to death as the machine guns started to work
and mud and small stones began to fly all
around us. And it seemed that all the ma-
chine guns in the Hun army were turned
on me. The steel helmet began to hurt
my head, for I was not used to it. The wet
ground added to my discomfort, and I wished
myself back in the old transport section. The
wait on the wet grounds seemed intermi-
nable, but suddenly a number of explosions
near by made me stop thinking entirely
and the chap next to me whispered into
my ears :
Come on, boy ! the covering party is bomb-
ing them.''
We rushed over to the wire and I tore my-
self considerably getting through the en-
tanglement. It was the first time that I had
attempted so risky a business. But I seemed
to have managed it well enough, for pres-
ently I stood on a German parapet.
I halted there for a moment and then see-
ing the other men inside the trenches I jumped
in, landing in the bay back of a traverse all
alone.
86
JOINING THE FLYING CORPS
From near by came voices speaking Ger-
man. I stood stock still for a minnte. Shonts
came and I knew that some of our fellows
were mixing it with the enemy. The noise
came from the left and seemed to be coming
nearer.
The only thing that occurred to me then was
to move towards the scene of the action. Just
as I was ronnding the corner of the traverse
I came face to face with a Hnn who was com-
ing out of a dugout. For a moment the man
stopped and then, muttering something about
British swine, he started for me. I lunged
with rifle and bayonet as hard as I could right
for his stomach. The man fell back with a
yell and would have pulled me into the dug-
out with him if I had not let go of the rifle.
From behind I heard steps approaching. I
took one of my hand grenades, pulled the pin,
and was about to throw it at the forms which
loomed in the dark, when I recognized the
first one of them as the company commander.
He said, "Come on, we've been here too
long," and I thought of how much longer he
would have stayed, if I had thrown the bomb.
He was just coming around the corner of a
87
THE FLYING FIGHTER
bay in the trench, and behind him -v^as a gang
of Huns.
So far as we knew there were only two of
ns, and to judge by the noise they were mak-
ing the Germans were coming in force. There
was nothing to do but retreat, and with that
in view we got over the top as quickly as pos-
sible, and started for our own trenches.
The whole action had taken place within
about thirty minutes, but I was so excited
over sticking the Hun that it seemed much
longer. However, the exhilaration of my ex-
ploit soon left me when the boys told me that
one of them, during a previous raid, had stuck
thirty Germans. After that I felt that my one
was not much. But I have seen that Hun fall
back into his dugout a thousand times since
then.
I learned that we had captured fifteen pris-
oners who were of the 227th Bavarians. They
were sent back to headquarters to be exam-
ined, and were later taken to a prison camp
in France or England.
One of the Germans spoke good Eng-
lish and I talked with him. He had lived in
America until six months before the war, and
88
JOINING THE FLYING COEPS
had worked in a butcher shop in Chicago. He
wished that he was back there now.
I spent a part of that night toasting my
shins in a dugout, drinking tea and eating
bread with tinned Nova Scotian butter on it.
After that I had a sound sleep, which was all
too short, for early in the morning I had to
join a party that was to bring out rations.
I was doing real soldiering now and had
many a thrill. In the same afternoon I was
going through a section of the trench when a
shell from a German trench mortar landed in
it and knocked in its wall. At the same spot
our company commander, Captain EenviUe,
was killed by a sniper shortly afterward.
The company Sergeant-Major was the first to
see him. The officer was still breathing but
unconscious, and the Sergeant-Major yelled
for stretcher-bearers on the double quick.
The bearers ran up and we placed Captain
Eenville on the stretcher as carefully as we
could. He was then taken to a dressing or
first-aid station.
The occurrence made a deep impression
upon us. The captain was a very fine man,
and we regretted his misfortune. I was tum-
89
THE FLYING FIGHTER
ing things over in my mind when I heard
somebody behind me sob. Turning around
I saw the Sergeant-Major in tears, and that
caused me to cry myself. I had only known
the captain for three days, but I had learned
to like him very much. To the rest of the
company the officer had been a brother and a
leader.
We learned that night that Captain Ren-
ville had died, and this increased our sorrow.
The men sat around gloomily, and the silence
was only broken by solemn vows of future re-
venge. The resolutions that were heard
would have put the fear of God into the Hun
who fired the shot had he heard them. I
guess that a lot of these vows were carried
out. I wished to comfort the boys, but, you
see, they wanted to be left alone to mourn
their loss. It was not until the day before I
left that any of them spoke much, outside of
taking and giving orders. Some of us went
to the funeral of Captain Renville, and there
I felt as bad as if I had lost my own brother.
The scenes of the death and burial of Cap-
tain Renville were before my eyes most viv-
idly all that day. I could still hear the bugle
90
JOINING THE FLYING CORPS
sound the last post, and though I had heard
it on several occasions before, and had lis-
tened to the last salute of the firing party, it
seemed to make my blood run colder to-day
than ever before. These honors meant recog-
nition of the fact that a man had sacrificed* all
for King and Country. It was not my King
nor was it my country, so I wanted my coun-
try's emblem with me when I died; for I
never expected to get out of this mess alive.
I always carried a large American flag with
me for that purpose. Later, when I had be-
come an officer, I hung it up in my hut. An
Englishman came in one night and made
rather caustic remarks about the U. S. A.
Well, so far as that went, American men could
take care of themselves, and when I told him
we had once whipped England he grew angry
and we mixed it. I gave him a black eye, and
he came back and apologized to me in the
morning.
I stayed the rest of the week in the trenches
and had a number of unusual experiences.
One day a Tommie with whom I had grown
chummy, and who was trying to get into the
Flying Corps, took me to an old trench from
91
THE FLYING FIGHTER
which the retaining boards had been removed.
He wanted to show me some German dead who
had been buried in the bottom of the trench.
There was hardly anything left except grin-
ning skulls, but what impressed me most was
the fact that their boots were still on their
feet; I thought of the old saying: '*He died
with his boots on.^'
Then the man told me a story of two Irish-
men to whom had been issued some of the
bad boots that were sold to the British Gov-
ernment in the early days of the war. Some
of these boots lasted three hours. As soon
as they got wet, the soles, which were made
of ground cork and glue pressed together,
fell away and after that the man was bare-
footed.
The Irishmen, having no soles on their
boots, decided to get a pair of the kind issued
to the Hun soldiers. They asked the com-
pany commander if they could go out on pa-
trol that night. The officer looked at them
somewhat puzzled, and asked why they
wanted to take such long chances on their
necks.
Patrick answered that he wanted a pair of
92
JOINING THE FLYING CORPS
Hun boots. The company commander
laughed, and finally gave his consent.
That night the two went out separately,
and when they got back into their own trench
Pat said to Mike :
**Well, Mike, how did yon make ontf "
**Fine," said Mike; *Hhe first one I killed
had boots of my size."
With that he showed Pat the boots, asking
at the same time: '*And how did you make
outf"
Very badly,'' replied Pat ; *'I killed twelve
of them, and not one of them had boots that
would fit me."
**What size do you wear?" asked Mike.
Eleven, "said Pat.
**Well, begorra! It's not boots you want;
it's the box they come in."
An Irish argument ensued and Pat was sent
to the Quartermaster for a new pair of boots.
A few nights before I returned to Squad-
ron Headquarters, I was sent into No Man's
Land as a member of a working party that
was to put in some new barbed wire and pick-
ets. We carried the material through a sap
which ran underneath our own wires, and
93
THE FLYING FIGHTER
when we got out of the sap we all felt as big
as a house, and we were sure that the Huns
would see us.
I could not imagine how they could miss
me. Our conversation was in whispers, and
that added considerably to that tired feeling.
I suffered from nervous shock every time the
mauls descended upon a picket. We worked
fast and furiously, and I had lost much of my
nervousness when somebody near me whis-
pered :
Get down! Get down!''
We all laid down right where we were and
waited. The working party is protected by
the patrol, and that patrol had warned us.
We waited until we got another call that
everything was clear and went to work again.
After that every time a maul hit a post it
sounded to me like a 12-inch gun. Presently
the Huns started to send up star shells for
the purpose of finding where the noise came
from. By that time we were down again, of
course. But the enemy took a chance with
their machine guns in the direction from
which the noise had come. The bullets went
to one side of us, however. The firing did not
94
JOINING THE FLYING CORPS
last long, and then we resumed onr labor ; but
I heaved a sigh of relief when we were
through with the job, and we were back in the
second-line dugout with a kettle full of tea
and some chuck.
Two days later I was called in by the com-
manding officer and ordered to return to my
unit. His report of me, he said, he would send
in by telephone. I surrendered my equip-
ment, said good-bye to the boys I had met,
and started for Squadron Headquarters. I
had gone about two miles on my way back
when I passed something that resembled a
house. Part of the chimney was shot off, and
the windows were all broken. The ruin was
similar to many others one could find around
that part of the country.
Of a sudden the front of the structure slid
to one side and a roar like a clap of thunder
came out of it. Then followed a burst of
smoke and a glimpse of the long, great barrel
of a heavy gun settling on the recoil, and then
the front of the house slid back — camouflage.
For some minutes there was an awful ringing
in my ears, and I had to hunt for my cap,
which had been blown off my head. I found
7 95
THE FLYING FIGHTER
it under the leafless branches of a tree across
the road, and near it were the bodies of f onr
small birds which had been killed by the con-
<;iission.
CHAPTER VIII
MY FIEST FLIGHT
IJpoiT my arrival at sqnadron headquarters
I reported to the commanding officer, who
called in one of the flight commanders. The
two of them discussed for a while as to what
pilot was to take me up on a trial trip, and
when this serious business had been disposed
of, I was sent to the quartermaster of the
aerodrome to be fitted out with the requisites
of the flyer. These consist of a helmet, leather
coat, fur gloves, and goggles.
The pilot with whom I was to fly told me to
take the front seat of the machine and strap
myself in. While I was attending to that my
nerves seemed a little bit unruly. The mo-
ment for which I had hoped so much was
come at last, but my sensations were not ex-
actly what I had imagined they would be.
As I fastened each strap around me the
risks of aviation became more real. Though
97
THE FLYING FIGHTER
I had often dwelt on the fact that there are no
landing places in the air, the straps brought
to me full realization that whatever happened
to the airplane would happen to me. There
was no getting away from the machine in case
something went wrong.
But there was no time for philosophizing.
The pilot took his seat behind me, strapped
himself in, tested various levers and contriv-
ances ; in the meantime somebody started the
motor of the plane running.
I noticed that several men were holding the
machine back until the propeller should have
gained the speed necessary *to give us a good
start across the field.
I do not remember whether the pilot gave
the signal that he was ready by word or by a
gesture. Anyway, of a sudden the machine
started to move, began to *Haxi'^ across the
field, and gained momentum with each in-
stant.
It is hard to describe the sensation I had
when the kite was finally in motion. I re-
member that the pilot opened the engine out
and that the earth seemed to roll from under
us, though the bumping of the wheels on the
98
MY FIRST FLIGHT
ground reminded me that we were still ^ taxi-
ing.''
Of a sudden the bnmping ceased and we
seemed suspended in mid-air. But the wheels
hit some other high places, showing that as
yet we were not ofE the ground. Once more
the machine was being supported on its wings.
I hoped that the wheels would touch ground
again, but hoped in vain.
The motor was speeding up now and the
peculiar swaying motion of the machine left
no doubt in my mind that we had left the
ground for good.
I noticed that the airplane was flying stead-
ily enough, but for all that I felt the uneasi-
ness which is experienced by the person who
is at sea for the first time. The slightest de-
parture of the machine from its horizontal
course threatened to upset my stomach.
But before long interest in the things un-
derneath me overcame that sensation. The
earth was receding in the most peculiar man-
ner. I told myself that we were going up, but
still the idea that remained uppermost in my
miad was that the earth was dropping away
from us.
99
THE FLYING FIGHTER
We began to climb up and np. I was be-
ginning to enjoy this when of a sndden the
engine stopped. My heart went into my
month. And I said to myself, * Willie, yon 're
a dead one/ I expected to fall. But the ma-
chine continned on an evel keel, and from back
of me came two sharp raps. Then I was snre
I was gone.
I looked aronnd and saw the pilot smiling.
He was saying something which I had great
difi&cnlty in understanding. Bnt from his lips
I read the question:
*'How do yon like it?"
I replied that I liked it well enongh, and
judged from the searching look in the eyes
behind the goggles that the pilot was very
much interested in ascertaining the state of
my nerves. The result of his scrutiny must
have been satisfactory to him, for presently
he began to point out the objects on the
ground, which was now far below us. We
were then some eight thousand feet above
the ground.
The pilot drew my attention to lines on the
ground — ^mere pencil marks — ^and he told me
that these were the trenches and communica-
100
MY FIEST FLIGHT
tion ditches, and I thonglit how much safer
the boys in the trenches were, even with the
mnd and rats. The lines stretched out as far
as the eye conld reach, and were parallel in^
the main, though here and there they diverged
a little to come closer to one another at some
other place. Over and near the lines wide^
puffs of smoke appeared. They were caused
by exploding shells. I began to listen for the-
detonations, but the noise of the motor made
it impossible for me to hear anything else.
So long as the puffs of smoke stayed near
the ground and the trenches, all was well, I
concluded. But I remembered the Hun avia-
tor's fate at Ypres, and wondered how long
it would be before those beautiful little smoke
puffs would come nearer to us.
While I was still wondering a flash ahead
of us rent the air. It was yellow and intense.
The next moment a round powder puff took its
place, and from this began to curl in all di^
xections smoke ribbons which the fragments
of the exploding shell were drawing after
them.
I looked around at the pilot. He said noth-
ing, but held up two warning fingers, while
101
THE FLYING FIGHTER
over his face went an expression of disdain.
Four other shrapnel shells exploded near
US, and there was now no doubt in my mind
that "Archie" was very busy with his anti-
aircraft battery.
The Hun aircraft batteries, however, did
not seem to be as greatly interested in us as
they might have been, and after a while their
efforts to bring us down ceased.
I was once more able to watch things be-
neath us. The earth looked flat now. Hill
and dale had disappeared. We sailed over a
forest and I found that it looked like a lawn.
Only its darker green separated it from the
remainder of the landscape. The farmhouses
were the size of a match box and the fields
around them seemed parts of a checkerboard.
Men could not be seen at all. Two little towns
over which we flew looked about a foot square.
I was enjoying this very much when of a
sudden the engine stopped once more. Some-
how I had learned to look upon that motor as
something human, and I found myself uncon-
sciously appealing to it to start again. I
knew, of course, that the machine could vol-
plane— ^glide — ^to earth, but I was not so sure
102
MY FIRST FLIGHT
that this particular pilot, despite his great
reputation, was really the man to bring me
safely back to earth.
The list of the machine forward made an-
other severe attack npon my nerves. I sur-
mised that the pilot intended to glide. What
I feared most, however, was that he might at-
tempt to do some of the fancy tricks aviators
are fond of, especially when they have novices
aboard. There might be somersaults, just
plain or corkscrew fashion, and I was quite
sure that anything of the sort would be too
much for me.
But this did not seem to be the intention of
the pilot. I had hardly found comfort in that
thought when I noticed that the speed of the
machine was now so terrific that the wire
stays began to scream and whistle. The sen-
sation of great speed overwhelmed me.
Everything began to revolve about me, and
I had to keep my eyes off the earth in order
not to grow sick. It was not the motion of
the machine alone that caused this sensation,
but the great speed at which the earth seemed
to be coming up to meet us.
Minutes seemed hours long, and with each
103
THE FLYING FIGHTER
second my prayers that this would soon be
over grew more fervent. I was suffering all
the tortures man ever imagined.
Of a sudden the machine lurched. The in-
creased pressure against the plane could be
felt by a tautness that went over every part
of it, my own body and mind included. The
next moment I noticed that the wire stays
were no longer singing, and then, to my great
surprise, I noticed that we were directly above
the aerodrome.
The realization that this trip would soon be
over was a great relief. But another fear
seized me. We were not far from the ground
now, but were still going at such a speed that
the machine coming in contact with the
ground would certainly be smashed; so, at
least, I thought.
That was not the case, however, though the
bounce we got when the wheels first touched
showed me that it was indeed well to be
strapped into the seat. The strain of my body
against the leather was such that the straps
creaked, and I would have been catapulted
out of the machine had it not been for the
safeguarding strap.
104
MY FIEST FLIGHT
After the first bounce the machine traveled
another short distance on its planes, hit the
ground once more, rose again, and then taxied
np to the shed.
I unstrapped myself and then climbed out
of the machine. I was glad to be once more on
solid ground even though it did heave a bit.
The impression that my first flight made
upon me was shown by a dream I had that
night. I dreamed that I was up in the air
higher than anybody had ever been before,
and that the machine suddenly broke up into
small parts. I was plunging down trying to
catch these parts and was just about to hit
the ground when I discovered that I was on
the floor near my bunk.
Next morning I learned that the Hun shrap-
nel had not been as innocuous as I had imag-
ined. There were several holes in the planes
of the machine which must have been made by
the contents of the shell which exploded be-
hind us, and which I could not see from my
seat in front. But old Archie'' had been a
little off-color in his shooting, as he generally
is.
I was discussing our trip with the pilot who
105
THE FLYING FIGHTER
4iad taken me up, Lieut. R , when an or-
derly came out and told me that I was to re-
port at headquarters. There I was told that
I was to be sent to a battery of sixty-pounders
to learn what I could about artillery.
The next stage in my training as aviator
was accomplished in that battery.
Much of my life, while attached to the bat-
tery, I spent in a dugout, which was com-
fortable enough; besides, the bugs had been
trained to leave strangers alone — so, at least,
the Sergeant-Major said. But in that, as in
other things, he was mistaken. The insects
took a violent liking to me and inside of three
days I had the finest collection of them the
battery could boast of.
I made the acquaintance of a new sport
while with the battery. A saucer server for
an arena. Into this one puts a kootie and a
flea. A vicious fight results and on the out-
come of that the boys bet. The combat gen-
erally ends in favor of the flea.
During the third night of my stay with the
battery, about eleven o'clock, I was awak-
ened by a heavy explosion. I started to my
feet, but before I could find myself another
106
MY FIEST FLIGHT
explosion came* I made for the surface and
just as I reached there another bang close by
shook me off my feet. In my hnrry to get
back into the dngont I missed the first step
and landed unceremoniously at the bottom. I
flew through the sacking which serves as a
door and lit on one of the gunners who slept
in the corner of the dugout.
The man was so used to night bombard-
ments that he did not mind the noise of the
shells. But he thought differently of the dis-
turbance I was causing. His flow of language
was very sulphurous and included a peremp-
tory command that I shut the door. He
opined that it was a shame to send a ^*mutt"
like me down to a battery to create trouble
and attract gun fire to a gang of peaceful
gunners.
The battery was shelled for three nights
running and I was blamed for it. Before my
arrival the battery had been living peacefully
enough, they said, and while they granted that
I had made no deal mth the Germans, they
still insisted that I was a Jonah. Whereupon
I returned to my little two by twice comer
and went to sleep.
107
THE FLYING FIGHTER
I was put to work, however. I assisted in
loading one of the big guns and as a special
favor I was permitted to yank the lanyard a
couple of times. Then they tried to explain
sighting to me. I heard lengthy expositions
of errors in elevation and the like, and some-
body said a great deal in explanation of load-
ing, relaying, fire and what not before I left.
I also learned that the fire was being di-
rected from the ground from what the battery
commander called the 0. P., or observation
post. He sent me up to that post with one of
the spotters. We reached it on our hands and
knees and found that its site was an old tree
stump to which a telephone line had been laid.
From that spot the observation man directed
the fire by means of a telephone. His work
consisted of telephoning to the battery com-
mander whether the fire was short or high, or
fell to the side of the object aimed at.
The language of the observation post was
Chinese to me at first. I could not make out
what they meant by '*No. 1 gun, two minutes,
five degrees right.''
After that No. 2 gun would take a whirl at
it as the next correction indicated. That cor-
108
MY FIEST FLIGHT
rection might be: "No. 2 gun, one minnte,
eight degrees far/'
It was all Dutch to me, but it was interest-
ing to watch it. I afterwards found out that
the fire spotter sometimes worked in con-
nection with airplanes when shrapnel was be-
ing used, the duties of the ground observer in
that case being to determine the height at
which the shrapnel was exploding. The aer-
ial observer also had to report on the effect
of the fire. Nobody had explained to me so
far why I had been attached to the battery and
nobody ever did, but I surmised they wanted
me to get up some acquaintance with artillery
practice. Some day no doubt, if I live long
enough, I would have to spot shrapnel while
on the wing, and my apprenticeship with ar-
tillery would then have some value.
To observe artillery fire from above was
the very thing I wanted to do, and I made up
my mind that the corrections I sent down
should be as accurate as possible. With that
in mind I absorbed as much of artillery tech-
nique as I could. I was anxious to get back
to the Flying Squadron in the hope that I
would get another flight right away. On ar-
109
THE FLYING FIGHTER
riving at headquarters I had the satisfaction
of being told by the conimanding officer of the
squadron that I was doing fine; but to this
remark he added that I was to keep it up and
then sometime or other I might be a real bird-
man.
The next week I spent in learning a great
deal about the Lewis gun. I was taken to a
range and taught how to use it, how to rem-
edy its jams, change broken cartridge guide
springs, and apply the immediate action on
an empty drum.
The gun I was handling had all the defects
which I might have to overcome in the air,
and I will say that my course on the range
was very thorough. Later, I learned how to
fix the ''double feed jam," change extrac-
tors, regulate the action of the bolt and do the
many other things one has to know in order
to keep a machine gun running.
I put in a very busy week, especially since
in addition to my study of the Lewis gun I
had to continue artillery observation prac-
tice. I discovered that spotting artillery fire
while moving about on an airplane was not
so simple as I had imagined. The things I
110
MY FIRST FLIGHT
was supposed to learn were piling np rapidly,
moreover. By the end of the week I had also
been introdnced to wireless telegraphy. I
worked fourteen honrs each day.
8
CHAPTER IX
MY FIRST HUU
The next trip I made aloft was made as
gtmner in a fighting airplane. We were on
patrol for three hours, and I had a busy time
of it trying to keep my mind on the gun and
flying at the same time. On my next trip I
spent a hundred rounds from a Lewis gun
at a target and the same day I was sent as
gunner* on another patrol.
We had been up for an hour, when the pilot
spotted a Hun battery and gave its direction
to some of our guns. We were then about
six miles behind the German line. All went
well for a time until I saw another machine
at about our own level, to which I called
my pilot's attention. Though the other craft
was at least a mile away the pilot recognized
it immediately as a Hun. He began to tap out
something on the wireless key which, as I
afterwards learned, was a message to the
112
MY FIEST HUN
battery with wMch we were working to cease
firing. The hostile machine was also an ob-
server and the flash from our guns would
have shown its pilot where our battery was
located.
The thought that there was a Hun in the
air and that we might have to meet him gave
me a nervous thrill since I somewhat doubted
my ability to handle a machine gun. The man
in the other machine might be much more
proficient than I; and, while I had broken
bottles on the range, fired on the outline of a
Hun plane on the ground for practice, and
done other trial stunts, I had never before
tried issues with a real live Hun.
But I found a great deal of comfort in the
fact that my pilot was a good man (he had
been decorated for bravery) and I made up
my mind that I was not going to disappoint
him. He had shown that he had faith in me,
and for that reason I had myself well in
hand when the German machine came nearer
to us.
But it was not our business to fight down
the hostile machine. We were observers. It
was rather risky, moreover, to take up a fight
113
THE FLYING FIGHTER
with a Hiin above his own territory, where a
forced landing would have resulted in our
being made prisoners of war. Consequently
we started for home, but Fritz saw fit to fol-
low us.
We were over No Man^s Land when finally
we turned on him, and I got ready to work
the machine gun. I knelt down in the seat
and when we were close enough the pilot
turned around and gave me the signal to fire.
But the Hun was miles past, and I wondered
if the pilot thought that I was the champion
trap shot of the world. There were no syn-
chronized machine guns in those days, and
to shoot through the propeller meant of course
that there would be a sudden landing since
the bullets would splinter its blades to pieces.
We came alongside of each other and I
had put a drum of cartridges in the gun
and was in the act of aiming at the Hun ma-
chine when something hit a strut alongside
of my head. A glance in the direction of the
strut showed me that a bullet had gone
through. Quick as a wink I pulled the trigger
and the little gun began to jump and bounce
about on its mounting.
114
MY FIRST HUN
What the effect of my fire would be I was
anxions to know. The racket made by the
machine gnn was deafening, and since its
mnzzle was directly above my pilot the man
had to cronch down into the cockpit. Bnt he,
too, was interested in seeing what I was
doing and after a few moments he sat np
again.
I was shaking with excitement by now. The
machine gun was spitting bullets at a fast
rate, but on the Hun plane everything re-
mained in order. The two machines were
keeping to a parallel course and I was begin-
ning to fear that my aim was too poor to bring
down our opponents, who were meanwhile
keeping up their fire.
Of a sudden the enemy machine lurched
forward. Then something detached itself
from it. It was the form of a falling man.
My excitement reached its height. My aim
had been good after all. As I saw the body
speed towards the ground, turning over and
over again, a sensation of sickness seized me.
So intense was this that I hoped the next
enemy would get me in order that I might not
have to go through this agony again.
115
THE FLYING FIGHTER
Meanwhile the pilot had seen the falling
Hnn. There was a smile on his face as he
shouted :
*^Danm good!"
The Hun machine had curved back to the
rear of its own line and we also made a turn
during which we ascertained that the man
had fallen inside of his own lines, having
hit the ground behind the reserve posi-
tion.
Something had gone wrong with the Hun
machine, however. After a while it began to
volplane rapidly; finally, it hit the ground
with such force that the wings left the body
of the machine.
While I was taking the empty ammunition
drum from the machine, the pilot sent some-
thing over the wireless and before long our
battery was at work again.
When our period of patrol was over we
went home and made a good landing. The
other men crowded around us. They had
seen the fight and were eager to shake hands
with us. I pretended not to be excited, but I
wanted to get up and shout to the world that
I had brought down a Hun in the air, and
116
MY FIRST HUN
assisted the pilot looking over the machine to
find what damage the Hun machine gnnner
had done to it. We found that he had eight
hits to his credit. A ninth bullet had gone
through the pilot's leather coat at tho
shoulder.
The commandiog officer of the squadron
also congratulated both of us.
I confess that I was rather pleased with
myself, and at the mess that night my brother
sergeants contributed not a little to that feel-
ing. One of them, however, a Cockney, pro-
ceeded promptly to take some of the conceit
out of me.
'*Ay, mytes, look at that bloke! 'e don't
'alf fauncy 'isself, cause 'e pitched down a
bloomin' 'un," he remarked, laughingly.
Since he had not done even that much, I
could not see why he should put in his jaw,
and so I came back at him with, ' ' Well, I don 't
see any medals on you for anything you ever
did.'' He lost his temper, but the rest of the
boys soon brought him to his senses.
It was not long before some of the other
sergeants made me feel that they did not like
me any too well. Several of them remarked
117
THE FLYING FIGHTER
that I was a Yankee, and the way of saying
it was uncomplimentary. Finally the Ser-
geant-Major put a stop to the argument, but
before he did this I learned that it did not
pay to argue with sergeant-majors when
you are a junior.
The following week, while on reconnaissance
about thirty miles behind the German lines,
our machine and another were flying along
merrily when we were tackled by six Ger-
mans. The odds were against us, so we
headed for our own lines at an elevation of
about six thousand feet.
The Huns, however, had made up their
minds that we should not get away if they
could prevent it, and they attacked us. Some
of them were trying to get ahead of us, while
others sought to get directly underneath us,
so that they could reach us the better with
their machine guns. One of the machines
got over us. In fact, they overlooked no
point of vantage to put an end to our career.
Finally, one of the Huns, who seemed more
daring than the others, made straight for the
other machine. I began to fire. After a
while the tracers hit his engine and then he
118
MY FIRST HUN
glided to earth. I cursed my luck for having
only disabled him.
The other machines were still flying around
us, though by this time in larger circles. Al-
though we were now near our own lines, they
kept pegging away at us and some of their
bullets kept spinning past us dangerously
close.
Just as we got over our lines, the Huns
made another big try to get us. Our ma-
chines separated in order to not give the
Germans a chance to attack us together. Two
of them went for my machine while the other
three attacked the other. I fought my op-
ponents at long range, hoping to hold them
off in that manner. But they were energetic
and daring enough. They closed in on us
and the rattle of their machine guns could
be heard above the roar of my engine, so
close were they.
The Huns decided to try other tactics. One
of them started to climb while the other kept
on a level with us. Not one of them remained
in any position very long. Of a sudden the
Hun machine which had managed to get well
above us began to dive, and as he did so its
119
THE FLYING FIGHTER
guimer landed a bullet in the shoulder of my
pilot, Captain Eobertson.
I feared that the Captain had been dis-
abled, and was ready to jump into his place.
If he lost consciousness the machine would
be out of control, and in that case it would
have been the last trip for both of us.
Captain Robertson remained conscious. He
seemed unable, however, to keep control of
the machine. We began to descend rapidly
towards Hun land and I had visions already
of being captured and made a prisoner of war.
To find out in what state the pilot was I
shouted at him. Instead of saying a word,
however, he pointed up at one of the Huns
who had just passed us. That signal, as I
presently came to understand, was intended
to show me that we were to dive to the
ground.
A grand nose dive came. It was made at
so steep an angle that the oil rushed out of
the breather pipes and covered my face. It
also blinded my goggles so that I was obliged
to waste time in wiping them off with my
handkerchief.
But that was soon done. There was a whole
120
MY FIEST HUN
dmm of cartridges, on the machine, and as
the Hun came to my level again I let fly at
him. I saw him raise himself, then he dropped
back in his seat — dead.
With that machine ont of the way the pilot
pnlled ours up once more, and soon we were
headed for home.
Captain Eobertson was getting weaker all
the time, however, and I began to doubt
whether we would get over the line. In the
course of our fight with the Hun machines,
we had gone back over the German lines, as
I now discovered, and our speed had fallen
off alarmingly.
I am not much of a praying man, but right
there I said the little prayer my old mother
had taught me. Meanwhile, I kept my eyes
open for the remaining Hun, who was still
near us. I hoped that he would decide to
stay away for I had only one drum of ammu-
nition left — 47 rounds. He was obliging
enough to do this.
But now we were again within range of the
German anti-aircraft batteries, which began
to fire at us. They hammered away indus-
triously, but luck was with us.
121
THE FLYING FIGHTER
We crossed the lines without further in-
jury and landed at a French aerodrome.
Though disabled, my pilot made a very fine
landing. He was bandaged up by the French
and sent by motor car to the hospital. I
telephoned to the commanding officer of the
squadron to tell him what had happened and
he sent another pilot down to get the machine.
On our arrival at the Squadron aerodrome I
was welcomed by the commanding officer and
learned that the other machine which had
accompanied us had been helped out of a
tight fix by two French machines.
Between the three of them they had brought
down two of the Huns, the third having made
a rapid retreat as a captive balloon of ours
had observed.
From the same captive balloon my fight had
also been seen, and its observer reported that
the machine whose pilot I had shot had come
down with a crash behind the Hun lines.
My month of probation was not yet over
and such time as I did not spend in the air
had to be devoted to study. Finally I was
sent to H. where at the headquarters of the
Royal Flying Corps I was told that I was to
122
MY FIRST HUN
proceed to England to get my officer's kit,
this being the first intimation that I had been
given a commission. Needless to say, I was
as proud as a peacock, and the prospects of
seeing England again increased my hap-
piness. There was no holding me, and I blew
myself to a wine dinner in a little French
hotel. I was a stranger and for that reason
had to celebrate all alone. The celebration
ceased on the arrival of my train.
CHAPTEE X
MY COMMISSIOK"
I AERivED in London too late in the evening
to report at headquarters, and decided to
have a look at Piccadilly Circus, which I had
no trouble in finding this time. I also met two
boys from home, who were on leave, and the
three of us went all over town, finishing up
at Murray's Club, which was then open all
night.
After a short period of enjoyment, I settled
down to business, getting ready, among other
things, my officer's equipment. The uniform
I now put on impressed me very much more
than did the one I had donned in Canada. It
was a novelty to have the Tommies and non-
commissioned officers salute me. But that
sensation soon wore off ; there were so many
of them that my right arm was nearly para-
lyzed by night time.
There is nobody who can take the conceit
124
ilil
GOOD PALS
A SLIGHT MISHAP
MY COMMISSION
out of a man as well as one's friends. I had
my picture taken in my uniform and sent
photographs to friends at home who promptly
discovered that the old uniform had fitted me
much better. A week later I was back on
my way to France, meeting at the port of em-
barkation a pal from my end of the world,
James Newton. He was very much surprised
to see that I was an officer now, but said that
he would not salute me if I were a general.
I had orders to report to the embarkation
officer in France, and he sent me to one of
the aircraft parks further inland. The com-
manding officer of the squadron to which I
had been detailed gave me what seemed to be
a chilly reception.
**I don't know anything about you at all,
old chap," he said, as -he sized me up. I was
dead tired and hungry and did not care
whether he knew* anything about me or not.
**Well, give me something to eat," I said,
"and a bed for the night. To-morrow we can
call up headquarters and find out where I am
to go.'^
I managed to get some food all right, but
no place to sleep. The commanding officer of
125
THE FLYING FIGHTER
the sqnadron spent a good part of tHat eve-
ning getting in touch with headquarters, and
when at eleven o'clock he had finally managed
to do that I was packed into a motor car and
sent to the headquarters in question. It was
a three hours' drive to get to my destination,
and I was almost frozen when I got there.
At headquarters I met a good old staff
colonel, who did his best to make me com-
fortable, so that soon I was sitting beside a
fire and had a glass of Scotch beside me. A
little later they had found a nice room for
me and I was asleep in less time than it takes
to tell it.
During the day I was called into the office
of the Colonel and was then given my route
orders and instructed to report to a squadron
in the South. I had been attached to a squad-
ron in the part of France to which I was
going and I wondered whether my orders
would send me there again.
I should have liked to get back to that
squadron, but it was not to be.
The commanding officer of the squadron
to which I was attached gave me to under-
stand that his was the crack organization of
126
MY COMMISSION
the corps, but tHey all do that. After that he
told me minutely what he expected me to do,
and, believe me, it was a whole lot.
But he seemed quite nice about it, and so
I made up my mind to do my best to satisfy
him.
About a quarter of a mile away from the
aerodrome was a little wood into which the
Boches were in the habit of putting shells all
through the day and night. In the woods
was an Armstrong hut which was assigned
to me as my quarters, and my real flying life
had begun. Next morning I was given a set
of maps of the country we had to work in
and, from the number issued to me, I arrived
at the conclusion that this squadron covered
most of France. I was also a-ssigned to a
pilot by the name of Smith.
It was in this squadron that I received my
first nickname; it happened in this manner.
The squadron, being English, its men followed
the English custom of having breakfast at
«even in the morning, lunch at one in the
afternoon, tea at four, and dinner at eight
or nine in the evening. The breakfast was
very good, but lunch was a cold meal with
9 127
THE FLYING FIGHTER
canned tongue or a cold ham and salad. In
the parts of the world that I come from we
have the habit of calling the midday meal
dinner, and it was the big meal of the day.
For that reason I found it hard to get used
to this cold meal. I felt the need of some-
thing warm in the middle of the day, so I
went to A. and there bought myself about
fifteen cans of pork and beans. The cook
used to warm these up for me for lunch,
and it was not long before I had the squadron
eating pork and beans. That led to my being
known to the commanding officer as Bean-
face/' The name stuck.
Before long I had another nickname —
Casey. That name came to me from a rag
time record on our phonograph popularly
known as ''Casey Jones," the same Casey
Jones who went down on the Robert E. Lee.
I learned the thing by heart and used to sing
it at the weekly concerts we gave our men.
The concert always was a big affair and we
used to get a battalion band to play for us.
But my Casey Jones song continued to be a
feature of the concerts, hence the nick-
name.
128
MY COMMISSION
As I said, my pilot's name was Smith. I
called him **Smithie.'' His other name I
never learned.
Pilot Smithie was a good sort and aside
from having a wholesome fear of the Hmi
"Archies," he was a brave boy, as I soon
f onnd ont.
We were assigned to a patrol and for a
week nothing of much importance happened.
On a Sunday "afternoon, while aloft, I noticed
that the aircraft sign intended to warn ns of
danger had ont the figure *'8." Looking in
the direction indicated by the arrow on the
ground I saw eight German machines on re-
connaissance behind our lines. Our ' ' Archie ' '
guns were hammering at them and before
long one of the Hun machines detached itself
from the flock and headed for home.
The machine I was in was about a thousand
feet above him and as the Hun came towards
ns my pilot began to play for position so that
I might get a good shot at him. He managed
to get above the Hun machine, and as it came
past us its gunner started to work his ma-
chine gun. I returned his fire, and for the
first two drxmas of cartridges no result was
129
THE FLYING FIGHTER
obtained. But with the first half of the third
dmm I killed the gunner.
We then closed in on the man who was fly-
ing the machine. He looked at me as I took
aim and I hated to shoot him. But as I
thought of the chances I would have if I were
in his boots I just naturally pulled the trigger
and hit him with a string of about thirty
cartridges.
His machine turned towards our lines of
a sudden and then headed down to earth.
Then it began to spin, there was a little puff
of dust as he hit, and it was all over.
My pilot was overjoyed and I was quite
proud myself, but I thought of what it meant
to be shot at nine thousand feet above the
ground and of the cra-sh when the machine
landed. What a finish!
When we were through with patrol work,
we returned to headquarters, and that night
the dead Hun looked at me as he had done
in the afternoon; as a result I slept very
little.
In the long run flying gets as monotonous
as riding a motor car, and one soon gets to
look upon it as hard work. It is hard work.
130
MY COMMISSION
I have found my nerves strung to such a
pitch that I could do nothing for a minute
or so, and at such times I would chew my lead
pencils.
My student period was not yet over. There
was still much to learn. It was not alone the
question of how to handle a machine gun
or even the airplane itself ; the service which
the aviator is expected to render is compli-
cated and intensive in its many details. For
instance, so far I had learned little of what
is known ag Contact Control, the purpose
of which is to keep in touch with advancing
infantry, tabulate its progress, and then re-
port to headquarters. Each battalion or
other unit advancing has a call of its own
when it wants to signal. This is transmitted
to the observer aloft by means of a ground-
sheet and shutter, the message being con-
veyed by means of dots and dashes. The air-
plane observer is expected to take this
message and relay it by wireless to head-
quarters. When convenient he will fly over
headquarters every fifteen minutes to either
drop message bags or report in person.
To study that system I was sent with my
131
THE FLYING FIGHTER
pUot to a French aerodrome. We began
to map out the country behind it, and then
practiced this system of signalling with
troops detailed for the purpose.
I will explain here briefly what the organi-
ssation of the average flying squadron is. It
generally has from four to seven machines
to a flight and from two to four flights, and
each flight is commanded by a flight com-
mander, who generally has the rank of cap-
tain. This ofificer is also charged with the
duties of the commanding officer in an admin-
istrative sense. He is empowered to punisK
his rank and file. But he is responsible to
the officer commanding the squadron for
orders.
The commanding officer of my squadron
was an Irish Catholic, and he was to us a sort
of Father Confessor. He went to church
every Sunday morning in a little village near
our camp. Usually we who were Catholics
went along. The commanding officer had a
real prayer book, which to me was quite a
novelty. I had not been to church for so long
that I did not remember much about it. But
it soon came back.
132
MY COMMISSION
The old Father was -an army chaplain and
his little church was about five miles behind
the lines. The people who attended were
poor but proud, as most of the real French
people seem to be. They felt the war quite
badly, but despite that they had masses said
for their dead sons, husbands, and brothers.
They aU showed a wonderful spirit, as was
evidenced by the firm voices in which they
said their prayers for those who were fight-
ing.
We invited the Father to come over to
the squadron and have dinner with us, and
one night he came. Before leaving our camp
he blessed our machines. After that we saw
quite a lot of him, though he was very busy
with the troops under his care, whom he called
his flock, and' with the peasants, who all went
to him when they were in trouble.
There was a large Hun aerodrome at Cam-
brai, about fifty miles from our camp: It had
been decided to bomb this. Three machines
were to go. Of the three selected mine was
one. It was a beautiful evening and the raid
was supposed to 'be made that night.
We put on our duds and piled into the
133
THE FLYING FIGHTER
machine and soon we were np in the air.
Though it was dark, there was no danger of
losing our way as the roads show plainly
at night a& well as lakes and rivers, which
look like silver, and the lines were being lit
up by star shells. From above, these lights
could be seen from a long way oiBP and when
many of them were up it was a pretty sight
indeed. The star shells burst very much as
did a large shell, and when many of them
go up at one time they furnish a splendid
pyrotechnic display.
On this night the front was quite busy. The
star shells lighted up great stretches, and
the wonder of it was heightened by the flash
of guns and exploding shells. We crossed the
Hun lines at n good height and were soon
behind them As we went over their
Archies'' we found that -our coming was
known. Shrapnel began to burst below us,
but our machine went straight over and be-
fore long we were near our mark. The pilot
shut off the power and glided down to within
500 feet of the Hun aerodrome ; then he pulled
the plugs that liberated the bombs.
As the bombs exploded everything below
134
MY COMMISSION
ns jnmped into action. Searchlights began
to flit about and tried to find us. More shrap-
nel reached up for us.
The other two machines after laying their
eggs" had started upward again, but my pilot
seemed to have some trouble in starting his
motor. We were still going down, as I could
tell by the searchlights, and it seemed to me
that we were dangerously near the groxmd
when the engine suddenly began to work.
We flew very low over the ground for some
distance before we had speed enough to
*'zoom.'' But after that we lost no time re-
crossing the Hun lines, which we did at an
elevation of about 5,000 feet.
When we arrived at the aerodrome the pilot
told me that we had had a narrow escape and
that the engine had started again just in the
very nick of time. Otherwise we would have
been obliged to land in the terrain of the
Huns at Cambrai.
I thanked my stars that I had not known it
at the time, for I am sure I would have died
then and there of heart failure.
About a week later I was flying behind the
Hxm lines with a pilot named Knight, when,
135
THE FLYING FIGHTER
on tnrning aronnd to go back to our line, the
engine slowed down.
Knight did not succeed in starting np again,
though he tried hard. We were going down,
down, down — towards the Hun lines. Soon
the machine guns started to work on us from
the ground. We were in a terrible situation.
I had shouted several times at the pilot, but
getting no answer from him finally looked
around.
The pilot was gone!
But he had not fallen out as I feared. My
frantic yells finally reached him, and then I
discovered that he was at the bottom of the
cockpit trying to fix the throttle of the engine,
which had broken.
It was easier to reach the throttle from my
position, and more than once I had thought
out just that emergency. Now I was to put
my theory into action. Taking off my heavy
flying coat, and supporting myself on my
head and shoulders on the floor of the ma-
chine, I reached around the foot-board and
opened the throttle. That started the motor
again and once more we avoided being made
prisoner by the Huns.
136
MY COMMISSION
So far so good, but in reaching down to
get at the throttle I had wedged myself be-
tween some stays and trusses from which I
found it impossible to extricate myself.
The remainder of the trip to our aerodrome
I made upon my head.
By the time we reached camp the pains in
my neck were almost unbearable and for the
next week I walked around with a stiff neck.
The work we were doing was very interest-
ing and I got my full share of it. There were
also days on which we had little to do and
then we would go to a little country house
nearby to visit two of the nicest girls I Ve ever
known. When there was little to do up in
the air we would go to a nearby battery and
help the crew a little and learn as much as
we could.
CHAPTEE XI
BATTERING THE HUK
I FOUND artillery work most attractive, both
on the ground and when np in the air. I
used to control fire by sending the necessary
corrections to the batteries by wireless.
Aerial control of artillery fire works some-
thing lil?:e this : Let ns say that I am up on
patrol and see a Hnn gnn shooting. To stop
him I call artillery headquarters by wireless
and if the enemy gnn happens to be a regis-
tered target, in other words a gnn whose site
is located, headquarters will telephone np to
the battery which has the registration — ^mean-
ing the necessary data on elevation and
horizontals.
In a very short time after that Mr. Hnn
qnits his fnnny work.
If it shonld happen that the Hnn is making
himself a general nnisance and the battery
has not been located, I call np general head-
138
BATTERING THE HUN
quarters and let them know that I want to
strafe" that Hun. Headquarters then lets
me pick a battery of guns with which to work
and I get in touch with that battery.
I can reach them with wireless but they
cannot communic^ate with me in that manner,
so that I depend upon their signals, which are
strips of cloth on the ground, placed in cer-
tain formations. There would be no difficulty
in receiving wireless on an aeroplane were it
not for the noise of the motor and the vibra-
tions of the machine, both of which make ^ill
knowai methods of receiving wireless mes-
sages absolutely impossible. But the signals
on the ground answered the same purpose
though they were not by any means so con-
venient
I call the battery and let them know who
I am, and ask them if they will ''take on the
shoot.
As soon as the battery has signalled to
me that they will, I indicate by map co-ordi-
nates, as far as is possible, the target's
position. When the battery is ready to fire,
another signal is put out, letting me know that
they are ready to fire, so that I may be able
139
THE FLYING FIGHTER
to watch the effect of the shot after it has left
the gun.
The first shots as a rule fall wide of the
mark, and I have only heard of one instance
in which an aerial observer was able to plant
a shell right in the middle of a Hun battery
the first time. And I am inclined to believe
that that was accident entirely.
But let us say that the first shot falls three
hundred yards short of the target. In that
case the battery is told by wireless that it
must rectify its elevation accordingly. But
it is not so simple while up in the air to de-
termine just how far a shell has fallen wide of
the mark. It is possible only by drawing
imaginary circles around the Hun battery,
each of these circles representing one hundred
yards. If an error has been made in this
calculation the next shot will show it.
When finally the shells fall within a hun-
dred yards or so of the battery it becomes
necessary to draw smaller circles, 50 yards,
25 yards and 10. These circles are named
by letters of the alphabet. Let us say that
the distances, 200, 100, 50, 25 and 10 yards
are known to the gunners in the battery as
140
BATTERING THE HUN
L, M, N, O, P. They are also bisected by
figures from 1 to 12, 12 being due north and
6 due south, while 3 and 9 -are respectively
ea-st and west.
If a shot falls in the 50-yard circle and
northeast of the battery, I would in that case
send down to the battery's fire control the
message N-2 or N-1. The battery commander
then ranges his gun for this last correction,
and the shooting goes on until something else
happens.
For instance, while I was controlling fire in
this manner, all of a sudden my battery might
cease firing. Not another shot would fall, and
no more flashes would come from the gun
pits. Looking around I would then be pretty
certain to see a Heinie, as we call the
German airmen, floating somewhere near
me.
Of course that Heinie had come over to
spot the battery which was molesting his own.
The commander of my battery had seen him
before I could and for that reason had
ordered ''cease fire," so that the location of
the guns would not be given away. You can
bet that if that Hun had spotted our guns
141
THE FLYING FIGHTER
and got the position down, that very night
they wonld have been shelled.
One day a Hun plane came over the aero-
drome after we had gone np and found it too
misty to operate. We had hardly reached the
ground again when out of that pea soup
overhead came down in our own code the mes-
sage :
**Too misty! Go home!" Only it was a
Hun birdman who had given us that kind
message. Yes, Mr. Hun is a very clever person
on improvisations. Knowing that we relied
on the smallest wireless sets we could get, he
would erect a powerful wireless station some-
where behind his lines and then with the
waves of that line he would obliterate the
weak electrical impulses with which we
worked. As a rule they would wait until
about three or four machines were up and
then they would jam them completely out of
hearing. In this case those on the ground
who were listening for our signals would hear
nothing but the loud call of the powerful
Hun station.
But Mr. Hun did even more than that. He
knew our code of signals, and would wait
142
BATTEEING THE HUN
until a machine spotted a gun somewhere
near a target, but not close enough for our
observers to advise the use of the entire bat-
tery. Then he would come in with his call
and order a salvo. The battery commander,
not knowing that the signal was not from
his own observer, would fire and, maybe,
waste from ninety to one hundred rounds
of good ammunition in an open field.
Meanwhile, the infuriated pilot or his ob-
server would have to race back to the aero-
drome and telephone to the battery to stop
it.
Later, the target might be taken on again
by means of a new code or through some
other method of signalling, such as electric
lamps. And thus the silent kill would go on.
It was not long before I discovered that
the early mondng and just before dusk were
the best time for patrol work. I generally
got more information then than at any other
time of the day, for this time is especially
well suited for observation behind the actual
lines on account of morning and evening
movements.
I always looked for the cookhouses of Fritz,
143
THE FLYING FIGHTER
and I was aided in this l3y the fact that there
was little wind which would allow the little
wisps of smoke to rise well above the
ground. My pilot wonld then get over the
German lines, swoop down, and I wonld de-
posit a bomb among Fritz's *'eats.''
These bombs I wonld very often make my-
self the day before by ramming into a piece
of pipe a charge of dynamite to give it a good
pnnch. Into one end I wonld stick a bit of
fuse and a detonator which was then lighted
by means of a cigarette lighter.
These bombs proved regular surprise
parties to Fritz, who would run like sin when
one of them dropped near him. Very often
he kept his eye too long on the machine in-
stead of on his feet, and it was quite funny
to see some of the tumbles he took. There
were many other Fritzies who never got up
again.
In the end I lost my love for bombing Huns
at such close range. Once they put a bullet
through our gasoline tank and we had just
enough of it in our emergency tank to take us
back to our lines in safety. The bullet came
through a corner of the fussalage, went
144
BATTEEING THE HUN
through the tank, and hit the nether side of
my seat, which happened to be the top of the
tank. Needless to say I jumped so high that
my head hit the top plane. I had a horrible
vision of being wounded in such a place. Just
think of the monotony of standing up all the
time while the cure is going on. But I found
no trace of blood, and was correspondingly
grateful. I had only been bruised enough to
make me appreciate what a wound in that
part of my anatomy would mean. While I
was recovering from the shock, it occurred to
me that it would be well to stop the leak in
the tank with my finger. But by that time
so little juice was left in it that it really was
not worth while. On arriving home I fished
the bullet out of the tank and I have saved it
•for a souvenir.
The experience did not entirely disgust
me with these pleasant little excursions. But
I was careful thereafter to supply my home-
made bombs with longer fuses and drop them
from a greater height.
Orders were received at headquarters one
day that every man must make his will— a
cheerful job. There was very little that I
145
THE FLYING FIGHTER
had to bequeath to anyone but what there
was I left to my mother. An Irishman named
Holleran, who was full of Irish wit and as
well read as he was witty, drew up his own
will, and when he handed it to the command-
ing officer of the squadron, he said :
**Well, sir, I am a Socialist, and I believe
in Socialism. I've got nothing, and I want
to divide it with everybody.''
Poor old John! He was the life of the
squadron until he and his pilot were hit by
one of our own shells and brought down in
Hunland.
CHAPTER XII
**PIZZ" AND ^^RANDIe" ,
One of the most consistent combinations
of pilot and good fellow was to be found in
Phil Prothero. He was a daredevil Scots-
man. He was wild; that is to say he would
do anything in the world.
* ^ Pizz, ' ' as we called him, flew a little scout-
ing machine and spent the greater part of
the time keeping the guns and sights on his
machine in perfect order. He had brought
down four Huns, but of late he had had a
streak of bad luck. He would get up at three
in the morning, go down to the 'drome, and
have his machine pulled out of the hangar by
the sleepy mechanics. Then he would pile
into his flying clothes, get up about fifty feet
from the ground, and come rushing over the
camp, waking the rest of us up on his way
to the lines in search of a Hun who might be
doing an early patrol. But he never got his
147
THE FLYING FIGHTER
chance until lie had lost many a good morn-
ing's sleep. One morning, after he had been
doing this sort of thing for abont two weeks,
he happened to be a few miles behind the
Hun lines and was flying low, since the ground
mist made it hard to see from a great height.
*'Pizz'' was sailing along when he was sud-
denly surprised by the rat-a-tat-tat of the
machine gun of a Hun who had settled on his
tail. He sized the situation up in a flash,
looped over the Hun and fired about ten shots,
when his well petted gun jammed. '^Pizz"
simply went wild and had to drop out of the
fight. There was nothing to do but return
home for repairs.
He landed and had the jam rectified by the
gunsmith of the squadron and away he went
again to the lines, looking for his Hun.
But the Hun was no longer aloft, so ^^Pizz'^
went over to a German 'drome and there he
found one who was just getting up into the
air.
''Pizz" let him get up a ways and then fell
upon him like a hawk, bringing him down on
his own 'drome. ^*Pizz" then went very low
over the German hangars and fired the rest
148
**PIZZ" AND ^^RANDIE"
of Ms ammunition at the frightened men,
who ran all over the place looking for cover.
After putting the fear of the Lord into the
Huns on the aerodrome properly, **Pizz"
started for home, climbing all the time to
cross the lines at a good height. But the Hun
Archies got a line on him and started to ex-
plode high explosive shrapnel all around him.
Jnst as he was crossing the lines home-
ward bound, a ^ ^woolly bear ' ' burst right near
him, knocking his engine out of the machine.
The machine was completely unbalanced by
this and now uncontrollable, but *'Pizz" kept
his head and got ready for the crash. It came
all right and poor old ^^Pizz'^ was pretty
badly damaged, having four ribs broken, his
face cut and bruised, in addition to sustaining
several internal injuries.
He went to the hospital for a while but
soon recovered. He was sent to a famous
fighting squadron and there he was just as
wild as ever. He went up one day, and while
on patrol tackled the Eed Hun, so called be-
cause his machine was painted red. They
fought for twenty-five minutes and finally
poor old **Pizz" was shot down.
149
THE FLYING FIGHTER
Another scout came along and soon the
Red Hun was engaged in another battle.
He was a good pilot and showed it by the
way he played for position, darting hither
and thither, but the Allied airman proved too
much for him, and before long the Hun came
down in a spinning nose dive and on fire.
He came down so fast that one could hear the
machine whistle as it came hurtling through
space, then the sound of crashing wood and
rending of fabric. And in two minutes noth-
ing was left but a small heap of burning
wreckage. So passed the Red Hun.
We all mourned old ^*Pizz," for every one
liked him. "We buried the remains of the Red
Hun, for he had been a real sportsman. But
there was little left of him. That little we
gathered in a sack and the chaplain read the
burial services at his grave.
We then sent a message by air to his aero-
drome, telling of the fight and burial, and a
short time later we received the same sort of
message concerning **Pizz,'' and we all felt
better.
But patrol work and artillery fire spotting,
with now and then a long reconnaissance trip,
150
''PIZZ^' AND ^^EANDIE"
were not all of our tasks. We used to take
photographs up in the air and found that
quite interesting. These things made up our
daily routine and it had to be some very
exceptional thing in the end which at all im-
pressed anybody. The exigencies of our call-
ing were such that we grew not only indif-
ferent to danger, but we became also very
hlase towards everything. There was a great
deal of keen rivalry, even to a fighting point,
among the various squadrons, but what hard
feeling there was generally vanished when
some man died. In that case it was
found that he had always been everybody's
friend and his memory was held sacred by
aU.
Eoutine is likely to give life very common-
place aspects, as we thought, until some
daredevil pilot would volplane us to the
ground and add a few somersaults or loops
just before he landed in the field, just to break
the monotony. Some of the pilots had a habit
of just missing the tops of our huts in order
that the noise of the motor might break our
sleep in the small hours of the morning.
We might get up and curse the man until the
151
THE FLYING FIGHTER
air was bine and shout vengeful words after
him, but that would do no good. The fact
is that right down in your heart you loved
that same fellow like a brother.
In the air service men will stand on the
ground and shudder at sights that they them-
selves have been responsible for when over
the lines of the enemy. Moreover, you al-
ways have a feeling for any of the boys who
are doing their bit in the danger zone. And
after that you get into your bus and go up
and do more of it.
Even a pilot ofttimes stands on the ground
and shivers to see some of the things another
flyer is doing. But he will climb into his own
machine and go up and do the same stunts
himself.
But there were times when I had reason
to wish myself back on the ground even if it
was under the most terrific shell fire that I
had seen. The man who is wounded in the
trenches or out on the open field does not
f aU very far as a rule, and he has a fighting
chance for his life. But the flyer who is hit
in the air has a small chance, and it made me
think of the old saying, ''If you're hit on the
152
^'YIW AND ^^EANDIE"
ground there you are, but if you're hit in
the air where are you!"
However, I had joined the air service for
better or for worse and I made up my mind
to stick to it. I saw a lot of machines shot
down in the course of time. Some of them
took fire up in the air. Others crumbled to
bits as they hit the ground, and in nearly all
cases their crews were killed. Now and then
the men in the machine would still live a day
or two before they made their last trip West.
But in only a few cases did men live long
after they had come to earth from any
great height in a machine which was out
of control.
I used to think this thing over, but the
thought never occurred to me that my end
would come in that fashion.
I was summoned to appear before the com-
manding of&cer one day. He needed a gunner
for a pilot who was going to take photo-
graphs. I felt less like flying on that day
than I had ever done, but I went neverthe-
less—I went because I had no choice, of
course. The commanding of&cer of a squad-
ron is to the men of his unit a little god, whose
153
THE FLYING FIGHTER
word is law and whom you dare not dis-
obey if you wish to avoid unpleasant con-
sequences.
So when the officer said, Roberts, yon go
with Hyatt as gunner," I said:
'*Yes, sir.''
That was all there was to it. I might have
thought a lot, but those thoughts will always
remain unspoken. For orders must be obeyed
to the letter, whether the job is dangerous
or not, under penalty of court martial for
cowardice, so reads the little book called
King's Rules and Regulations.
We got to a good height in very little time.
In those days the average photograph was
taken at the height of from 6,000 to 7,000
feet.
It happened to be a perfectly clear day in
May. We got to the Hun lines and they were
waiting for us it seemed. As soon as we
stuck our noses over their lines they started
to shell us for all they were worth. I had
never seen such a shelling of an aeroplane
before, and I confess that I was thoroughly
frightened — almost frantic. The pilot was
intent upon making good photographs, and he
154
CITY OF ALBERT, FRANCE, TAKEN SLIGHTLY NOSE-HEAVY
FROM SEVENTY-FIVE HUNDRED
FEET WITH MACHINE ON VER-
TICAL BANK
READY FOR ACTION THE PILOT
^^PIZZ" AND **EANDIE''
had to stay within the 7,000 feet altitude in
order to get them.
There being no Hun plane up, I had little
to do. I was kneeling in my seat and looking
for Hxms but not a one came, nor was there
any reason why they should in all that
* * Archie ' ' exhibition. The chances were very
good that the Hun anti-aircraft batteries
would get us down without some Heinie
having to take a risk. "We circled and circled
over the German lines until Hyatt had taken
fifty-six photos, as fine a collection of the
Hun first, second and third lines as had ever
been made.
When Hyatt had done that he had to pro-
long the agony by photographing the Hun
reserve positions ; not that he wanted to, for
he was as frightened as I was. And after
that we concluded that we might just as well
fly back home.
"Well, when we counted the holes in our
planes in the aerodrome we discovered that
ninety-six holes, of various sizes, made by
high explosive shrapnel, had robbed our
planes of much of their carrying capacity. A
few more and the old bus would have settled
155
THE FLYING FIGHTEE
down in Hnnland no matter how much speed
the motor might kick up.
I was interested in the conrse which some
of the shrapnel balls had taken and discovered
that many of them had come too close for
solid comfort. One of them, for instance,
mnst have missed my ankles by the veriest
fraction of an inch. Another one had gone
through the plane near the pilot and ac-
counted for a slit nine inches long in Hyatt's
leather coat.
I must make another remark about the
holes in our planes. They were not small by
any means. One of them was large enough
for a cat to be thrown through. I guess that
a whole shrapnel case must have gone through
the plane. Shrapnel holes in the planes and
the smaller perforations left by machine gun
bullets had ceased to be of any consequence
to the boys, however.
When I first entered the air service men
still counted such things, and on the aero-
dromes they used to establish records based
on the number of holes in a machine. But
that got to be an old joke. The only per-
formance which counted at this time was to
156
*^PIZZ" AND '^EANDIE''
come hnrtling through the air for several
thousand feet, land on the nose of the ma-
chine, and then get from under the wreck with
enough life left in you to make patching up
w^orth while. K that could be done from ten
to fifteen thousand feet, well and good, and if
en route the gasoline tank took fire, good
night. Nothing short of that could get a
thrill out of the tough lot they had around
the aerodromes.
"We used to have considerable fun with the
captive balloons of the Huns. The purpose of
our attacks on them was to set them on fire,
for nothing short of that could ever hurt them
unless you shot them full of machine gun
bullets. These captive balloons went up
rather high, so our machines had a fair chance
at them, if they could surprise them.
The bombs we used to drop on the captive
balloons were of a deadly nature not only in
so far that the phosphorus they contained
would ignite the gas, but in addition to that
they were deadly if dropped on the men in the
trenches, as they produced incurable burns,
and the fumes were horrible to breathe, as
they contained a sort of gas. Old Eandie, one
157
THE FLYING FIGHTER
of our pilots, was sent over one day to get a
Hun sausage. He went up three times before
lie finally got it.
This particular sausage had had a great
deal of our attention. It never came up twice
in the same place, but moved up or down the
road a hundred yards before it ascended.
Generally, it was from two to three miles
behind the lines.
We all wondered what this Hun was up to,
and Randie was sent up to find out. With his
load of bombs aboard he started up. The
Hun watched him come, for to the Hun an Al-
lied flying machine means death in various
ways.
This one knew that Randie was after him, so
he had his balloon pulled down as soon as
Randie came at all near him.
But the Hun seemed very anxious to con-
tinue his observations and went up again.
Randie, who had returned, started for him
once more. In that manner they played hide
and seek for about two hours.
Finally Randie climbed up and found a
hiding place behind a cloud. The other
thought that his tormentor was gone, but dis-
158
*'PIZZ" AND **RANDIE"
covered shortly that he was mistaken. When
the balloon was up about half way, Eandie
took a dive from his hiding place and made
straight for it, and then pulled the plugs to
release the bombs. The two Huns in the cap-
tive balloon saw it coming, but there was
nothing that they could do. Eandie was upon
them before they knew it, and as soon as the
bombs hit they both jumped. It is not the
prettiest sight in the world to see two men
jump out of a balloon at four thousand feet
from the ground.
The parachute of one of the men opened
after a fall of five hundred feet or so. That
stopped his rapid progress through the air
and he descended safely enough. But the
parachute of the other Hun never opened
at all and he looked like a weighted rat as
he sailed earthward. A speck of dust showed
where he hit. He was only a Hun but he was
game, and old Randie afterwards told me
that he felt sorry for him. And Randie
knew; he was an old timer, and game to the
cere.
Randie made the supreme sacrifice a short
time later when he was hit by a high explosive
159
THE FLYING FIGHTEE
shell while flying at abont one thousand feet.
Eandie was an Englishman — an English
public schoolboy, well brought up. There is
something in the training those boys get
in one of those schools which they never for-
get. They are gentlemen and they show this
quality. An Englishman who has been
through Eton, Oxford or Harrow can be
spotted as soon as you start talking to him,
and he is generally as game as they make
them. I have met several in my travels and
they nearly all pan out alike.
And Eandie was no exception to the rule.
He was a gentleman and a sport. He did not
believe in hard work, but he did believe in ef-
ficiency. He read a lot, and once in a while
you would see Eandie drop his book and call
for his bus. The mechanics, who liked him
as much as we did and who would do any-
thing for him, would get his bus out. Then
Eandie would put on his helmet and fly out
to the line just to tease the Huns, as he called
it. He would fly behind the Hun lines and
of course the '^Archies" would start work-
ing on him, and for every shell that Archie"
exploded Eandie would give him a loop.
160
*'PIZZ'' AND ^'RANDIE''
Eandie would do that for a time and then
take a dive at the Hun lines, empty out two
or three drums of ammunition, and fly back
home. Then he would get out his book and
start to read again just as if nothing had
happened.
CHAPTER XIII
DAREDEVILS
1^ the days when flying was largely de-
fence and observation, and not on such a large
scale as it is now, the pilots in various squad-
rons used to try and beat each other doing
tricks or stunts with aeroplanes. One man
would go up and do a series of loops, another
did tail slides and stalls, as we term a
manoeuvre in which the machine is brought to
a dead stop after reaching the apex of an up-
ward curve. Another would do side slides
and nose dives. And soon every one could
do everyone else's stunts. Flying schools
taught pupils that a spinning nose dive was
fatal and no one had ever gotten out of one
alive.
In 1916 some daredevil pilot flying a new
type of machine, while flying along would roll
his machine completely over sideways. Then
some other pilot figured how to get out of a
162
DAEEDEVILS
spinning nose dive without injuring himself
or the machine. Then the roll was applied
while the machine was upside down at the
top of a loop, which meant that the machine
was started into a loop, and while upside
down on the top of the loop it was rolled over
to its proper position.
Soon the scout schools were teaching their
pupils to do all such stunts, and they were ap-
plied to gain time or to win advantage over
an adversary while engaged in combat, or to
dodge anti-aircraft shells. In this manner
the art of flying was developed by leaps and
bounds.
It was surprising to see the number of evo-
lutions a machine could be put through by a
pilot who could do stunts properly. It was a
common occurrence to see the machines come
back from the lines and patrol work doing all
kinds of funny stunts. They would cut all
sorts of queer figures like a litter of playful
kittens. There were a number of other stunts
in which the pilots took pride, such as flying
just a few feet from the ground behind the
German lines, or skipping just over the tops
of the parapets of the Hun front lines, using
163
THE FLYING FIGHTER
their machine gnns as they -went. These
manoeuvres were very dangerous, but a flying
man in his prime never thinks of danger— if
he did he would quit flying.
In the early part of 1916 I used to fly as
observer for a daredevil pilot best known
as K. K/s one ambition was to touch
the wheels of his under carriage on the
ground somewhere behind the Hun lines.
Generally when a man does things that are
forbidden something happens. Fate seems
to punish one for the things that are fool-
hardy. And if fate had punished K on this
special occasion I might not be here to tell
the tale. But fortunately fate waited until
our return to the aerodrome.
We were up on an early morning patrol,
having started at dawn, and there was no ac-
tion behind the German lines, as was usually
the case at that hour in the morning. The
sun was just starting to show itself over the
horizon and with it came the promise of a
fine day, which meant lots of work.
I was busy looking for a battery of German
guns which had been reported active the
night before, when all at once the Hun air-
164
DAREDEVILS
craft batteries opened fire on ns. The ex-
plosion of the shells came so thick and heavy
that onr machine was tossed aronnd by the
concussion as if it were a cigarette paper.
K shut off his power, and I kept watch to find
the batteries that were doing the shooting. I
fonnd one on the way down, bnt I soon lost
all eagerness to pnt it ont of action, for K
made no attempt at getting back to onr
lines.
I looked over to make sure he was not
wounded, and, as the engine still turned, I
wondered what was happening.
We went down behind the German lines
xmtil we were just over the tree tops. K then
opened the throttle and the engine responded
all right, but he closed it again, and I can't
describe the strange sensation I had. I
swallowed my heart, and made up my mind
that I was to be a prisoner for the duration
of the war.
That thought was not pleasant, especially
after hearing the hair-raising tales which
were told of the way our prisoners were be-
ing treated by the Germans. I shouted to K
that the engine was all right, but he merely
165
THE FLYING FIGHTER
looked at me. I put a drum of ammunition
on my Lewis gun, for I had made up my mind
to kill him if he were a spy, and then I would
make the attempt to fly the machine back
myself.
We glided gently down and touched the
ground. Over the field I saw three German
soldiers racing to capture us. Just then
K pulled open the throttle and away we went
up in the air once more. My nerves just quiv-
ered with joy, and I took aim at our would-be
captors and let the bullets fly in a stream.
But the air currents near the ground were so
erratic that I did not hit them. We headed
for home.
As we crossed our own lines I heaved a
sigh of relief. K looked at me and smiled.
He had realized his ambition to touch the
ground behind the German lines, but he had
also given me the scare of my life, for I did
not know what he was about. K swore me
to secrecy as it meant an awful strafing'' if
the squadron connnander ever heard of his
exploit.
I kept my word until poor K had touched
the ground behind the German lines for the
166
DAREDEVILS
last time. The commaiidiiig officer and I met
in England one day and I told Mm all abont
it. He did not say mnch, bnt I conld see that
he was thinking very hard.
They have some beantifnl summer days in
France, especially in June and July, the
months in which the Somme offensive began
in 1916. I was up one day about three o 'clock
in the afternoon spotting fire for one of our
batteries. I was at an elevation of six thou-
sand five hundred feet and about six miles to
the rear of the Hun lines.
I was keeping our lines in my sight, how-
ever, which is a proper habit with flying men.
Of a sudden I noticed that it became difficult
to see them; then I noticed that the sky was
gradually being blotted out by heavy storm
clouds which were coming from all direc-
tions.
I drew the pilot's attention to this. He was
of the opinion that he would have to climb
over the clouds. That sounded good to me.
I did not want to retarn to the aerodrome
just then for the reason that the Hun bat-
teries, taking advantage of the storm, were
giving it to our lines hot and heavy, and
167
THE FLYING FIGHTER
in doing so they were showing their locations
by the flashes of the pieces.
I was taking down the location of the bat-
teries on my map with the intention of having
them later shot np by the 60-ponnders of old
Mac's battery.
But that storm hit us fair and square
within a few minutes : and when its first gusts
struck us I had the sensation that our ma-
chine was being tossed about like a cigarette
paper.
It was a lucky thing that I had strapped
myself in, for otherwise I would have been
thrown out. We were in a cloud that was so
dense that I could not see the propeller nor
even the tips of the wings. I looked at the
aneroid, but it showed nothing that I could
make anything of. It had grown so dark that
the instrument could no longer be read.
At first we were surrounded by an abso-
lute silence, and then the storm broke loose.
Before very long we seemed to find our-
selves in a veritable hell of lightning and
crashing.
We traveled for quite a distance in the dark
with no means of knowing our elevation. I
168
DAREDEVILS
began to fear that we migM hit a church
steeple or a house or something else on the
ground. The rain was now falling heavily
and added to our confusion and difficulty. To
make matters worse it dissolved the dye on
the edge of my goggles. The mixture got
into my eyes, which began to smart terribly.
With the rain beating into my face it was
more necessary than ever to keep on the gog-
gles. However, the dye that was running
over them irritated me, so that finally I con-
cluded to protect my eyes with my hands. But
the rain bit into them, and the parts of my
face that were exposed, so viciously that I
had to put the goggles on again.
The same thing had happened to the pilot,
who was as thoroughly blinded as myself
and had crouched into the cockpit to find
some protection.
The chances of weathering that storm did
not seem very good, and it occurred to me
that I was about due to collect something
this time from the Huns.
My conclusion was not far wrong. Peep-
ing over the side of the body of the machine
I saw the backs of some horses just under-
169
THE FLYING FIGHTER
neath ns, and in another moment or two we
had landed on the crest of a little hill.
I did not know whether or not we were on
onr own side of the line, but my mind was
soon set at ease, for a British Padre came
toiling up the hill and the first question he
asked was if we had seen any captive bal-
loons drifting about.
It seemed that three of our balloons had
broken away. I hadn't seen any balloons nor
had the pilot. After that we took time to
thank our stars that we were still alive and
had not landed a few miles further east in
Hunland.
The battery commander, with whom we
were doing the shoot,'' had telephoned to
the commanding officer of our squadron and
had told him that we had last been seen
going backward over the Hun lines. The
good man was sure that he had seen us for the
last time, and he was not a little surprised
when we showed up.
It was some time before we could get in
touch with the squadron, and when we did it
we were just able to prevent our names from
being put on the list of the missing. There
170
DAEEDEVILS
was a great reimion on our arrival at the
squadron and we celebrated it that night in
good old style by having wine with our
supper.
Shortly after that I went out for patrol
practice behind our own lines with a brigade
of infantry who were to take part in the
Somme offensive. The brigade in question
had never been in action before, and since it
was to have that chance in the near future it
had to go through the necessary manoeuvres.
After practicing for two hours I came down
at the aerodrome and was told by the com-
manding officer that the general commanding
the brigade was so pleased with my work
that I was to have dinner with him.
I started for his headquarters in the after-
noon and we discussed contact control and
its merits while dining. After that he invited
me to go with his staff on a big hunt in the
near-by woods, where I was told still lived
some wild boars.
That hunt proved to be a very interesting
experience. Instead of guns long spears were
used, and we rode the best horses that could
be f oxmd. But I am not used to the flat sad-
171
THE FLYING FIGHTER
die and that was where my troubles began. I
can ride almost any horse with a Mexican sad-
dle, but to ride an English saddle, known in
the Western States as a postage stamp, is a
different thing. Nor was this all. The horse
I was to ride was a fine hunter of good height
who had been trained for fox hunting and he
delighted in nothing so much as in taking
every fence and hedge he came to. That
spear, too, was in the way. It was about ten
feet long and to me was a new implement.
So between the spear and that horse, not
to mention the saddle I was kept busy stay-
ing right side up.
The hunt had started in the forest and as
we came to its edge we could hear the beaters
shout. They were coming towards us and
were driving a tusker before them. The ani-
mal came tearing through the underbrush.
The first three hxmters missed it and then the
boar made straight for my horse. Had I
been anything of a pig hunter at all I might
have gotten him. But that was not to be.
Just as the animal charged through the legs
of my horse, he snarled viciously, and that
hunter of mine, used more to foxes than to
172
DAKEDEVILS
boars, started off. That ended the pig hnnt
so far as I was concerned. For the next haK
hour we jumped fences and hedges in good
style, and then we, or rather the horse, had
had enough of it. I slipped off of the saddle,
very sore in certain parts of my anatomy, and
then walked the hunter back to headquarters,
where I exchanged him for my more com-
fortable motor cycle and side car. And the
general had a hearty laugh when I related
to him my experience.
I drove back to headquarters a very sore
man physically, but I found solace in the fact
that in another five days my leave was due.
I was looking forward to the time I was to
spend in England with a great deal of joyful
anticipation, and I had enough money saved
up to have another go at London.
The boys tried to kid me that night by
saying:
**0h, yon will never see Blighty. What
will you take for your turn on the leave-
roster?"
The Somme offensive was to take place at
any time now, and it was extremely hard for
anybody to get leave. The chances of getting
173
THE FLYING FIGHTER
away from the front for a little while, as I
had promised myself, seemed indeed scant.
That Somme offensive might last from a week
to a year for all we knew. That was true
enough, and the boys made it worse by dwell-
ing on the fact that before it was over I would
never need another leave. One of them sug-
gested that I decide upon the sort of flowers
I wanted the boys to bring to my funeral.
Imagine my disappointment, if you can.
For weeks and weeks I had counted upon that
trip to England, and now the Somme offensive
was to shatter all my plans. But there was
no help for it.
CHAPTER XIV
THE BIG PUSH
For the last three days before the offensive
the contact patrol men were not allowed to
fly. There was a great deal of tension notice-
able everywhere, and to get away from that
we songht some diversion in our surround-
ings.
I went to a little French village about two
miles away just to look around and talk to the
natives. I found them immensely interesting
and they enlightened me on many points. I
inquired among other things what their sports
were and in what way they enjoyed them-
selves. I was surprised when the old veteran
of former wars, with whom I was talking,
went out and brought in a bow and a quiver
full of arrows.
Now, archery is an odd form of sport,
though very similar to trap shooting. I had
seen the Indians out on the reservations in
12 175
THE FLYING FIGHTEB
Canada and in the States nse bows and ar-
rows, but not to a great extent, merely using
them to amnse the children. But here it was
considered almost a national sport. The old
man explained how they held tournaments
and even went to the extent of building tall
lattice work masts, on the tops of which the
birds were arranged. Each competitor paid
so much to participate in the shooting and the
receipts were given out in prizes for the birds
that were brought down.
The masts or perches are as much as one
hundred and twenty-five feet high, and on the
top of them is placed the master bird, for
which the biggest prize is given. The other
targets all have a value commensurate with
the difficulty in hitting them.
The old man took me out in the hop field
behind the house and showed me how to shoot.
I must say that he was a master at it. One
of the things he hit was a jam tin at fifty
yards. I tried it a good many times, but that
jam tin might as well have been a mile away.
I visited the old man quite often and many a
bow and arrow shoot we had together.
Shooting with a bow was not his only ex-
176
THE BIG PUSH
ploit. He had been an old soldier and had
fought in the war of 1870 and had many in-
teresting tales to tell of how wars were f onght
before the aeroplane came into use. But he
used to think it a miracle that a machine could
stay up in the air at all. My efforts to make
him understand why it could stay up were all
Dutch to him. And as my French was not
complete enough to tell him the difference
between a strut and a camber rib I had to let
the old man go on thinking that the good
Lord or the devil had a lot to do with it. I
once offered to take him up, but he looked at
me and shook his old white head and replied :
*/Non, mon cher ami! I am what you call
ze scare for ze machine to fall on ze groun'
an' I^m broke ma por ol neck. I thank you ze
same like I go up wit' you.''
While at another village one day I was in-
formed that a great cock fight was to be
held on the following Sunday.
To me that was something new. I inquired
what the entrance fees were to be and I was
told everything was free and that experts
on the game would give me good tips on which
birds to bet in case I wanted to make money*
177
THE FLYING FIGHTER
I thought that there wonld be a good
chance to get even with that gang of gamblers
at the sqnadron, who had recently trimmed
me quite a bit. I inqnired abont one of these
tipsters, and I was introduced to a man who
said he knew everything about cock fighting
and every battling fowl in the country.
I made arrangements with him to tip me
to the winners, for which I was to pay him
twenty francs. We arranged to have the fights
close to the squadron so that we could be
handy to go up in the air at a minute's notice,
as nothing was allowed to interfere with our
work. Then I went home all worked up at
the prospect of such an afternoon's sport
and broke the news to the bunch, but I did
not tell them of my plan to be the bookmaker
of the event.
It would have to take place in the afternoon,
as the people went to church in the morning.
We waited all the rest of the week and I
had figured it all out how I was going to
trim the boys on the bets. Sunday afternoon
finally came on and the sportsmen gathered
from far and wide with their game cocks in
sacks.
178
THE BIG PUSH
The arena, which had been erected, was
made of canvas in the form of a little fence
about two feet high. A canvas floor had
been pegged down and it looked just like a
prize ring.
The announcer got npon a chair and an-
nounced the first event, which was a sort of
preliminary. About twenty of the boys had
gathered around. I had made a little booking
stall and, with my tipster as guide, I was to
receive all comers in bets up to one hundred
francs. He showed me the winner and the
bout started.
Now these cocks were spurred according
to the judgment of the owner and they had
sure made a good job of it The supposed
\sinner had been armed with steel spurs two
and one-half inches long. But the foolish bird
was too eager and jumped at the other cock
with no judgment, tripped himself, and went
to the mat. The other cock climbed onto him
and would have made a finish of him had he
not been pulled off in time.
Betting had been active and my pile went
down one hundred and fifty francs.
The next fight started and the tipster told
179
THE FLYING FIGHTER
me that the winner would be the smaller cock
of the two. His opponent was about twice his
size, and I thought that if he did as much as
fall on the little fellow he would surely kill
him. But the tipster was supposed to know,
and I took his word for it.
Well, the fight had no more than started
than it was over. The big fellow just took
one swipe at the little bird and ran one of
his spurs through his neck.
The birds were taken out and the pile went
down another one hundred and fifty francs.
There were only five more fights to take
place, so I decided to discharge my tipster,
liaving come to the conclusion that I knew
as much about it as he did. The next two
birds were quite evenly matched and I picked
my own winner. He was a ragged looking
bird, but he looked tough enough to bet on,
so I took all comers against him. The betting
was brisk and had I lost that fight I would
have been cleaned out. But my bird won and
I took in about two hundred francs.
On the fourth fight I lost one hundred
francs, and just as the last fight was coming
on I figured how much I would have to make
180
THE BIG PUSH
to break even, when an orderly rnslied over
with orders for me to be on line patrol in five
minutes.
I quit the fight about three hundred francs
loser.
That cured me of betting on cock fights.
The money did not matter much for one never
knew but what he would be *'gone West" any
minute, and the only good use we had for
money was to spend it on leave and pay mess
bills. What was left over changed hands
freely at roulette, or crown and anchor, and
poker. The games were not big and no one
lost heavily, but it sure helped to pass many
a weary hour.
The big drive started, and for five days and
nights it seemed that every gun on both sides
had been brought down to the front on which
we worked, and we soon found that a great
many had. Drum fire and the like was known
to us already, but a bombardment of the in-
tensity such as ushered in the great infantry
attacks was something entirely new to us.
The shelling done by both sides was ter-
rific and we, who were able to watch it from
the air, wondered how a single human being
181
THE FLYINa FIGHTER
could survive the shock. For the time being
nothing seemed to matter because everybody
felt that a titanic struggle was on — a struggle
which, it was hoped, would put an end to the
war. The boys had started a tennis court
near the aerodrome but all work on it ceased.
Our artillery did its best to break down
the Hun lines and the Huns replied almost
shot for shot. The earth shook day and night,
and seven miles behind the windows rattled.
Into the trenches were being hurried thou-
sands and thousands of men who were to fol-
low up the advantages gained by the
artillery.
The front had been a busy place the year
before but now it was busier than ever. There
was no end to the artillery ammunition con-
voys, and I used to wonder where Great
Britain and France were getting all the men
that they were hurrying to the front. Even
cavalry, of which we had seen very little in
the past, put in an appearance.
It rained in torrents for several days and
that made aerial observation very difficult if
not wholly impossible, besides making life a
torture to the thousands of troops who had
182
THE BIG PUSH
to live outside during the whole period. But
one never heard a murmur of dissatisfaction.
On July 1st, at 4.30 in the morning, two
planes from our squadron were ordered to
proceed to the front for the purpose of doing
contact patrol duty. We had three men in
our squadron who were versed in that ac-
complishment. One of the men was named
Davis, the other Sutton ; I was the third. Sut-
ton was to act as relief.
Davis and I had to keep over the trenches
at an elevation of about two hundred feet,
the weather being so bad that we had to fly
low. We had to take messages from the men
in khaki on the ground, following them as in
one wave after another they advanced against
the Huns. But they never got at the Huns.
Though the barbed wire entanglements of
the enemy had been cut in everywhere, it
had been cleverly replaced by the Hun en-
gineers. In a few places our men did get
through, however, and it seemed that there
the victory was to be ours.
Our work was not satisfactory, however.
We could see very little of the fight for the
reason that we had to cover much space and
183
THE FLYING FIGHTER
were hardly ever able to follow an operation
to its conclusion. It was also impossible to
gain mnch of an impression on the general
situation. And generally we knew little of
the progress that had been made until we re-
turned to camp. The commanding officer of
the squadron was not satisfied with our work.
He complained that our message bags were
going all over the country and he also had
fault to find concerning an unfinished mes-
sage which I had sent to headquarters by
wireless. I was in the act of sending the mes-
sage when my aerial was shot away, cutting
my message in half. I dropped part of the
message I had sent there and then, and it
was picked up at headquarters. The other
half of the message which I sent had not been
received, as I had lost my aerial.
Knowing that the second half of the mes-
sage was of great importance, the pilot and
myself risked our lives by a dive down to
within fifty feet of the ground so that we
might drop a message bag at a station which
was in a garden quite well enclosed by trees.
As the machine rose again it came within a
few inches of running into a balloon cable
184
THE BIG PUSH
which we had not noticed. The cable was so
thin that it was ahnost invisible until we were
a few feet away from it. Nevertheless, we
were reprimanded for running needless risks.
The officers along the Somme front were in
no pleasant humor in those days. It was im-
possible to get a civil word from any of them,
and everybody seemed bent upon taking it
out on the other feUow. Everybody was be-
ing overworked and the strain, together with
the anxiety as to what the result would be
of this offensive, began to affect the disposi-
tion of everybody. So many preparations
had been made for the work in hand and so
much seemed to depend upon its successful
conclusion that officers and men alike thought
of nothing but the engagements that were
going on. The slightest mistake on the part
of anybody was usually magnified many
times, until the culprit was sure that he was
a criminal.
The Huns meanwhile were bringing down
a good many Allied aviators. Two of the
best men of our squadron were killed. One
of them, Little" Jowett, the smaller of two
brothers of that name and a chap whom
185
THE FLYING FIGHTER
everybody liked very much, was shot down
by the Huns while taking photographs behind
their line. Poor old Stoddard was hit by a
Hnn machine gnn from the ground, and he
and his observer were killed in the crash.
These were things that caused us to think
hard, and many of us lost our care-free ways
and began to wonder when it would be our
turn.
One day I went up in the afternoon and did
some very hard work. Some of our troops
had managed to get into parts of Hunland and
had to be carefully covered there. It was
even harder out there to get messages into the
proper hands. Knowing what it was to be
in the trenches with the infantry, and feeling
that Tommy Atkins needed all the assistance
I could give him, I set about my duties with
a will.
I realized how important it was to get my
messages to headquarters where they could
be acted upon. It was often a question
of saving many lives. That kept my nerves
high-strung during the four hours that I was
on patrol. I was in the habit of putting my
pencil in my mouth while using the wireless
186
THE BIG PUSH
key, and discovered this afternoon that I had
chewed it completely to bits.
At about four o'clock that afternoon I got
a message from some of our men who were
tied up in a small section of German trench
and were being shelled there in addition to
being machine gunned. They were in so
tight a fix that they could go neither forward
nor backward, while the Germans were
swarming around them like bees around a
hive. The message I picked up from the
ground said that they were being held in by
machine gun fire.
I could see that a Hun gun emplacement
with six guns, all working at the same time,
was causing the isolated group underneath
me as much trouble as machine guns possibly
could. So I sent a message to headquarters
with a map reference of the location of the
German guns and waited for developments.
I was soon rewarded with a sight which I
shall never forget. Within five minutes of the
time that I had flashed back my message, one
of our batteries was putting into the German
emplacement shells that hit the very spot.
Next morning I had a good look at the place
187
THE FLYING FIGHTER
bnt found nothing but a lot of shell holes and
a few lifeless gray forms on the ground.
That day again we worked until darkness
made it impossible to pick up messages from
the ground. But even after that the fighting
continued. The heavy detonations of the
large guns and the explosion of the big shells
kept up a fearful racket. As I soared aloft
it seemed to me that all the world had gone
crazy. The very air trembled and as far as
the eye could reach was seen the flash of gun
and shell. The powder fumes kept drifting
over the ground. They were first illumined
by the rays of the setting sun and later by
the star shells. The scene was most spec-
tacular.
Meanwhile the ambulances were rushing
back and forth from advanced position to the
field dressing stations, and later others took
up the work clearing these stations by taking
the wounded men to the rear. That work
continued all night, and it was only then that
we began to realize the heavy sacrifices that
were being made by the men who wenf over
the top.
That sort of thing went on for days and
188
THE BIG PUSH
nights without interruption. It seemed to us
that the work was piling up faster than we
could attend to it. There was no limit to what
the officers in charge demanded of their
subalterns and men, and every nerve was be-
ing strained to the utmost. In the past I had
gone up only occasionally, as it now seemed
to me. But now I was up in the air almost
constantly. My machine would hardly land
before some orderly would pounce upon us
with new instructions. We had barely time
enough to eat in peace, and usually our sleep
was interrupted at dawn, and very often be-
fore that. Few of us succeeded in ever get-
ting our clothes off our backs. It was a case
of work, work, work, and generally the de-
votion one tried to throw into this found
little appreciation. At first some of us re-
sented this, but finally we came to realize that
the strain of responsibility upon the higher
officers was such that nothing else could be
expected from them.
I found myself at dawn one morning look-
ing for a Hun battery which had been doing
good work on some of our guns. It was foggy
and so I was obliged to stay close to the
189
THE FLYING FIGHTEE
ground, but I managed to get across the Hun
advance positions without trouble and soon
ran into their Archie'* batteries. That
caused my pilot to go up. The fog between
ourselves and the ground made observation
almost impossible, but as good luck would
have it I finally located the battery that had
done the damage. I communicated with one
of our batteries, which had the location of the
enemy battery, and within a few minutes the
Hun had stopped firing. I returned to our
aerodrome after that, but was immediately
sent off again to do contact control with some
infantry organizations that were about to
advance. I worked at this until 10 :30 in the
morning and then returned to the squadron.
After an hour or so I started on volunteer
reconnaissance. We were to find some of our
infantry who had gotten into the Hun lines
and had not been heard from since. The men
had been lost on the preceding day and it was
a question whether they could still be suc-
cored. I took many a risk scouting up and
down the sectors in which the men in question
had been lost, and finally was lucky enough to
find them.
190
THE BIG PUSH
Upon my retnrn I was sent on patrol duty,
looking this time for a German machine gun
emplacement which had made itself very
much disliked. But to find a well-screened
machine gun position is not so easy. I had
considerable trouble seeing anything from
the elevation I was flying at and finally de-
scended to about seventy-five feet. Mean-
while, my plane had attracted the attention
of the Huns and their shells were bursting
all around me. It was very difficult under
these conditions to observe anything, but I
had an idea where the machine guns were
located. I went over the ground a good many
times, but seemed unable to get the exact
position. My patrol period came to an end
before I had found the machine guns, but my
relief, to whom I gave whatever information
I had gathered, discovered that the guns had
been placed in the cellar of a building that
had been razed by artillery fire. The infor-
mation was flashed back to a battery, and
within a very little time that Hun machine
gun emplacement was no more.
When the position had been silenced, the
observer took a photograph of the scene and
13 191
THE FLYING FIGHTER
upon examination it was found tliat eight
machine gnns had been hidden in the cellar.
Since each of these guns could fire as many
as six hundred shots a minute and do terrible
havoc, the haul had been a good one.
At 3:30 that afternoon I had another as-
signment— contact patrol with the infantry.
Everything at that front was in such a tur-
moil with shell fire and smoke that I was able
to see but few features of the ground. All
buildings, and in some cases whole woods,
had completely disappeared, so that the
aerial observers were now obliged to find a
new set of landmarks. The buildings and
trees which in the past had served as valuable
marks to us were gone. We began to realize
that in future we would have to be guided by
the things which heavy artillery could not
carry off — the hiUs, for instance.
While on contact patrol I took messages
until seven o'clock that night, when I was re-
lieved by another machine. I returned to the
aerodrome, made a general report and then
tried to eat dinner, but the excitement of
the battle had left my nerves in such a con-
dition that I could not swallow a morsel.
192
THE BIG PUSH
At 8:30 I was given an order to make a
reconnaissance flight over Hnnland. This
time I went up with the commanding officer
as pilot. We flew over the Hun lines at a
very low altitude and approached a little vil- -
lage just back of the German positions. Near
the village a relief party of Huns was just
entering the communication trenches. We
were so low that I could take them under
fire with the machine gun, and I killed about
thirty.
We then started towards the place for
which we were bound in quest of the desired
information. The trip was quite successful
and before long we were sailing over No
Man's Land on our return. But we were not
home yet. Of a sudden I had the sensation
of having been hit on the head with a hanmaer.
For a moment I lost consciousness, but
seemed to regain my senses immediately.
When I was again in control of myself, I
noticed that the engine had stopped. I believe
it was that fact which caused me to become
conscious again. I looked around at my pilot
and saw that his face was covered with blood
and that blood had also run over his goggles.
193
THE FLYING FIGHTER
My first thought was that he had been hit, and
thongh he was sitting npright in his seat and
seemed all right, I made frantic signs to him
to start the engine. This he did, for a mo-
ment later the propeller began to spin. I
fell back into my seat and once more lost
consciousness.
When next I regained my senses I noticed
that we were flying at a great height. My
eyes fell upon a large wood which I recog-
nized as one lying immediately behind our
lines. I was still wondering why the pilot's
face and goggles were covered with blood and
was making an effort to slide back to him to
find out what the matter was when he mo-
tioned me not to stir and stopped the engine,
starting immediately gliding gently towards
the ground.
**I'll take you down,'* said the pilot.
We had another place to go to and though
I was feeling very badly, I thought we might
be able to finish the job.
**No, go on,*^ I said.
The pilot did not reply. Instead, he held
the nose of the machine towards the ground.
Soon it became apparent that the pilot had
194
THE BIG PUSH
reconsidered, for I noticed that we were
swinging back over Hnnland. As we neared
the ground I saw that some of our men were
engaged in consolidating parts of a position
they had taken from the Huns.
The men in the trenches waved their hel-
mets at US, and jnst then a volley of Hnn
bnllets came np through the planes, making
a noise like a snare drum as they spilt the
canvas. After that we headed for general
headquaters where, after making my re^
port, I once more relapsed into uncon-
sciousness.
When next I was conscious I found myself
in the field dressing station. They were
bandaging up my head, and somebody told
me that my skull had been fractured by a
bullet. I was then given the anti-tetanus
treatment and five days later I was an inmate
of a hospital on the French coast, the institu-
tion in question being presided over by the
Duchess of Westminster.
I was operated upon twice and each time
pieces of bone had to be removed. I was
unconscious the greater part of the time.
One morning I awoke in another place and
195
THE FLYING FIGHTEK
learned upon inquiry that I was in a hospital
in England and that within a few days I
would have to undergo another operation.
The next time I came to my senses I had
been operated upon, but found that I could
neither hear, see, nor talk. I was very weak,
and seemed unable to think rationally. The
slightest effort I made at reasoning caused
some of the factors which I wished to bring
into relation with one another to recede from
my grasp. With my senses of sight and hear-
ing gone, I had to rely entirely upon my sense
of touch. I could feel the nurses doing things
around my bed, but aside from that no exter-
nal impressions came to me. I tried to make
them understand what I wanted, but such ef-
forts were unavailing. I supposed nobody
could understand the feeble movements of my
hands. Though the care that was given me
seemed to be a matter of routine, it was,
nevertheless, ample.
For two weeks that continued. My bed
had meanwhile been placed against the wall
in a ward known as the Turner Ward. I felt
that windows and doors had been opened
for the purpose of airing the room. Sud-
196
HELMET WORN BY AUTHOR WHEN
WOUNDED IN THE BATTLE OF
THE SOMME, JULY 2, I916
INSIDE OUT, SHOWING WHERE
PIECES WENT IN, AND BLOOD
FROM LEFT TO RIGHT: BLXLET LODGED IN GASOLINE TANK AT THIRTY-
SIX HUNDRED FEET. SHRAPNEL BALL WHICH WENT THROUGH CAR-
BURETER AT TWENTY THOUSAND FEET. TAPPET ROD WHICH BURST AT
SEVEN THOUSAND FEET. BULLET WHICH STRUCK AUTHOR IN SIDE
THE BIG PUSH
denly a door near me was shut with a bang.
I did not hear that bang, of course, but I felt
the vibrations of it, which caused me to jump
and as I did this I saw of a sudden two rows'
of beds on either side of the room. A nurse
was coming towards me.
The same instant my powers of speech re-
turned.
As I looked at the nurse the thought came
to me that possibly I was mistaken in all
this. I had groped about in the darkness so
long that I was now doubting the very things
I beheld.
"Are you wearing a white apron and a
blue dress?" I asked the nurse.
Instead of answering my question, the
woman ran o&, and I heard her call a doctor.
Withm thirty minutes I was once more on
the operating table.
When the effect of the anesthetics left me
I was indeed grateful to discover that the
senses which had deserted me for a while
were still with me. I could see, hear and
talk. These functions were still impaired, I
discovered, and for a while I was tortured
by the thought that again I might lapse into
197
\
THE FLYING FIGHTER
my former helpless position. Gradually,
however, I managed to get them nnder better
control, and before long I felt that my
physical vigor was also returning.
While at the hospital, I learned a great
deal of onr old squadron. Its men had not
fared well. Little^' Jowett, I learned, had
been accompanied by a corporal gunner when
their machine was brought down by the Huns.
The gunner had been taken prisoner.
Jimmie, a Canadian chap, had been
wounded and it was believed that he would
be permanently crippled. Randie had been
killed. Old John and his pilot. Captain
Burney, two of the best men living, had gone
down. **Fat'' Brennan, another Canadian,
had been wounded. Davis had suffered shell
shock and Bolitho had been killed. Six
members of the original squad were still
alive; all the others had been taken on
their last flight. I also heard that the
squadron commander, one of the best in the
world, had been promoted to be a wing com-
mander.
There is no doubt that war is exactly what
Sherman said it was. You see a pal one day
198
THE BIG PUSH
and the next day he is either dead or miss-
ing. But often they made mistakes in the
casualty list. Once for ten months I was left
under the impression that a good friend of
mine had been killed. Eeally he had been
taken prisoner by the Huns. I met him in a
hotel in London, and had some trouble mak-
ing sure that he was really the man I knew.
The same thing happened to me. My name
appeared on the casualty list among the
missing several times. Then when I would
show up at some aerodrome everybody
would wonder why I wasn't dead. The worst
of it was that my old mother received cables
of my being wounded or killed on five dif-
ferent occasions. The trouble in my instance
was that in so big a crowd as an army almost
any given name is found a good many times ;
and then generally somebody has the knack of
thinking that the particular Smith or Jones
who has been killed is the one he knew.
There were times when it was indeed diffi-
cult to keep track of one's friends because
the casualty lists were so large.
I received the best of care in the English
hospitals and in two weeks after my last op-
199
THE FLYING FIGHTER
eration I was able to walk around quite well.
After that I started in search of my bag-
gage, which had not been delivered to me. Be-
fore long I found what was left of it. The
thing that hurt me most was that all my
good Hun souvenirs had been taken, and I
was never able to trace one of them.
CHAPTER XV
LEARNING TO FLY
Upon my discharge from the hospital, I re-
ported to the general in charge in England,
and he, after reading the report of my case,
advised me not to fly any more. It took con-
siderable pleading on my part to induce the
officer to retain me in the service. But after
a heart-to-heart talk, I induced him to let
me remain in the Flying Service. For the
time being I was to be sent to a school of
instruction, where I was to be initiated in
the art of operating a machine myself. The
course I was to take included the theories of
aviation, construction of machine, flight rig-
ging, operation, and general flying and me-
chanics as applied to air motors. To this was
added meteorology and physics, bombing,
and such things as wire splicing and the
other little odds and ends one has to know
in order to keep an airplane in good trim.
201
THE FLYING FIGHTER
I passed the examination easily enongh.
Having had some experience in actual fly-
ing and fighting at the front, I was later re-
quired to do some lecturing in different
classes. Though I had never lectured before
and had some difficulty addressing a class, I
soon managed to gain some proficiency in
this. My lectures covered the work I had
done in France, such as observation for artil-
lery, contact patrol, and aerial fighting.
There was no school of aerial gunnery on the
training ground in question, and for that rea-
son my lectures interested the students very
much.
I found that many of the men at the school
were of my turn of mind when I was in
Canada. Every one of them wanted to
get to the front and fight, and gave little
thought to the fact that before a man can
fight he must be instructed and trained. Com-
ing in contact with this tendency as an in-
structor I now began to realize what a trial
I must have been in my recruit days.
We had a Scotchman at the school who was
of the regular daredevil variety. Discipline
meant absolutely nothing to him. There was
202
LEARNING TO FLY
no order that he wonld obey and the result
of it was that his troubles never ended.
We had been quartered in an old English
Hall. The buildings, laid out on the lines of
a TJ, had been erected many centuries ago, I
was told, and the lawn in the yard was looked
upon as something highly venerable for the
reason that it had been planted by the orig-
inal owner of the place. The recruits, who
were a rather tough lot, had acquired the
habit of using that lawn as a playground. To
this the present owner objected, with the re-
sult that the commanding officer had a sign
put up prohibiting trespass on the lawn under
a penalty of five shillings for each offense.
McCray, the Scotchman in question, was
in the habit of rushing across this lawn
whenever he wished to reach the dining-room.
He had done this one morning at breakfast.
The commanding officer saw him, adminis-
tered a stinging reprimand, and wanted to
collect the fine. McCray reached into his
pockets and finding that he had nothing
smaller than a ten-shilling note gave it to
the commanding officer with the words:
* 'Here ten bob ! Take it all and I '11 walk
203
THE FLYING FIGHTER
across it once more after I Ve had ma' l?reak-
f ast, as I don't want to be late for the first
class, sir."
The conunanding officer warned him, bnt
McCray walked across the lawn all the same.
There is no doubt that the lot of the officer
trainiQg recruits is not the easiest one can
imagine.
After passing my examination, I was sent
back to France to learn practical flying with
the Royal Naval Air Service Squadron. I
was gratified to find that it did not take me
long before I could handle a machine. I had
gained considerable experience in flying as an
observer. The machines we had used at the
front had a double set of controls, so that
observers were able to get their hand in grad-
ually. These machines also were fitted with
machine guns that did not synchronize with
the propeller, and although the observer had
to do most of the fighting, there were times
when the pHot had to operate the wirelesfe. In
this case the observer was entrusted with
steering the plane.
I learned how to fly on a Cauldron, a French
type of machine with a radial engine of 100
204
LEARNING TO FLY
H.P. and a warp control. After an hour's
flight with an instructor, I made my first
solo flight — that is, I went up alone. I
found that I had little trouble handling the
machine, and made a good landing.
On my second flight I tried my best to break
the squadron's altitude record, which was
then 11,000 feet. I was up for nearly two
hours, and reached an elevation of 10,500
feet— when ''bang!" went the revolution
counter.
That did not worry me, however. The
engine showed no sign of having been im-
paired and kept on running. I decided to
climb some more.
I was quite a ways above the clouds, in
the eternal blue, when all of a sudden the
engine stopped. Well, that made a lot of
difference. There are no places in the air to
which one can throw an anchor, so there was
nothing that could prevent my coming down
suddenly.
I tried to locate the trouble, but found that
keeping the machine on an even keel would
occupy me entirely without giving any atten-
tion to the motor. I began to dive. It so
205
THE FLYING FIGHTER
happens that a Cauldron has no gliding angle.
It glides as gently as a brick.
It did not take me long to fall through the
clouds, which, as I had observed going up,
were then about 4,000 feet above the ground.
I was through that bed of dense and damp
mists before I knew what had happened, but
I had sense enough to keep my eyes open for
the aerodrome or some other convenient spot
on which to land.
Just how I would land worried me consid-
erably. I wanted to do as little damage as
possible. There were hundreds of machines
in this aerodrome. Many of them would be
standing about the groxmd and others might
be on the wing.
Fortunately, no machines came into my
path. I took a curve to one side of the aero-
drome and made ready for the long glide
that was to get me to the ground. I was near-
ing the ground at a great speed when I no-
ticed the ''skipper" waving his arms like a
madman. I thought that he wanted me to
steer away from some machine near me and
in my haste to obey his orders I turned right
towards the officer. That caused him to cease
206
LEAENING TO FLY
shouting and waving his arms. He started
to run across the aerodrome as fast as any-
body ever did run, with me and my faithful
chariot just two steps behind him. The way
that skipper covered territory was a sight
to behold. Well, the machine lost its mo-
mentum and then the commanding officer
risked coming near us.
He seemed speechless. All he could do
was to shake a wrathful fist at me. He
was red in the face. But presently speech
came to him, and then I heard what he
thought of me. That good man called me
every name in the calendar and a few others
that are generally included in the category
known as From Hell to Breakfast. He did
all this without using any punctuation. The
skipper was an old salt and knew exactly how
to do it.
He left me with the remark that I would be
under arrest for two weeks — as I was. But
that did not bother me any. All life at the
front and behind the front was like being in
jail anyway. We had come to the point where
we could visit the girls no longer and even in
the guardhouse one might shake poker dice,
207
THE FLYING FIGHTER
the only recreation that was now left to
ns.
Bnt playing poker with French cards is
not so simple. The Kings and Jacks looked
Tery much alike and are identified only by
the initials of their French proper nonns.
For that reason we took to dice. I was not
the only one in that guardhouse. There was
a Canadian chap named Cameron. He was
as good-hearted as they make them. Cam,
as we called him for short, did not know the
value of money at all and certainly loved to
gamble.
The two weeks under arrest passed quickly
enough and then our training was continued.
Cam and I started out one morning to do
solo work. The weather was rather muggy
so that we could not be seen from the ground
after we had gone up a short distance. We
made up our mind to have a little vacation
that day. When we were quite sure that the
skipper could not tell where we were, we
sailed to a little French town about twenty
miles away. We knew that there was land-
ing ground near by, and for that reason we
^could risk it.
208
LEAENING TO FLY
We landed all right but began to donbt if
the weather would stay what it was. If it
cleared up that skipper would look for us up
in the blue welkin, and then there would be
trouble. But we had some money in our
pockets and wanted to eat a regular dinner.
To get that we had to go down the main street
of the town to find a restaurant.
After much hunting we found one. "We
must have been the first English officers that
ever ate in the place, to judge by the conduct
of the proprietor and his waitress. The girl
made it her business to pull back the curtains
at the window so that the people passing
by could see the distinguished patrons of the
restaurant. The meal they served us was
good. To show that we had a little money in
our pockets, Cam and I picked up two ragged
little girls and took them to a store where we
dressed them up from shoes to hat. That
made quite a sensation. The idea was Cam's,
and he was certainly pleased with himself
that it had been carried out.
We were lucky that the weather had re-
mained hazy. We got into our machines and
made off, but took great care that on ap-
209
THE FLYING FIGHTER
proaching our aerodrome we were well out of
sight. The skipper was waiting for us on the
ground and seemed quite pleased that we were
such good students.
WeU, poor old Cam did not last so very
much longer. He went to the front, and
before he left he told me that he had a
feeling that he would never get back. I
tried my best to get that notion out of his
head but did not succeed. A little while later
I saw his name in the casualty lists under:
Killed in Action. How the Huns got him in
the air I never found out. He had been over
the top on many occasions with the Canadians
in the north of France and had never been
touched, and he had proved to be a very skil-
ful pilot.
Cameron, by the way, had the habit of call-
ing the French 'Spuddle jumpers," on account
of their excitability. At mess one day the
skipper asked him why it was that the average
Frenchman became excited so easily.
Cameron had considerable Irish wit.
''Well, sir,'' he said, "they all love their
Paris, and no doubt it is a wonderful city,
and I guess there is not a Frenchman in
210
LEAENING TO FLY
France who has not seen Paris. They get
their excitement from dodging taxicabs in
Paris, and as there are a lot of puddles in
the streets of Paris, hence the name of * pud-
dle jumpers,' which I have given them/'
The Cauldron machine in which I contin-
ued to fly got on my nerves after a while. It
was very hard to make good landings with
it. One day the skipper told me that I was to
land as close to the sheds as possible. I said
that I would do so, and, after having had a
good ''flip" up in the air, I came down with
the skipper's instructions still in mind. He
was watching me. I was going to make a
particularly good landing. When the wheels
of the bus hit the ground for the first time,
a hard bump came of it, and the fine plan I
had made was thrown out of gear. Close by
the place where I had intended to land stood
another machine. The bump had somewhat
changed the 'direction of my plane, and since
I was still going at a speed of about thirty
miles an hour I feared that I would crash into
the other machine.
There was only one way of preventing that ;
I would have to go up again. I pulled the
211
THE FLYING FIGHTER
tlirottle of tHe motor to a ninety-mile clip, to
the great astonishment of the skipper, who
had fully made up his mind, it seems, that I
was going to break up everything. He grew
wildly excited, but I did not mind him. In-
stead I opened the throttle some more and
then zoomed" over the machine and the shed
beyond.
I was still zooming" when I saw the trees
behind the shed; they were about three times
as high as the shed itself. It was a case of
either getting over or crashing into them.
To get over the trees I thought impossible.
There is no machine that would rise that
much in the short distance that lay between
my machine and the tree tops.
The only thing to do to avoid a very bad
spill was to have more speed. I opened the
throttle still more, with the result that the
machine began to want to dive. To overcome
that I pulled her nose up, increased my speed
again and pulled into the final **zoom."
As I did this I got a glance of the skipper
and several of the instructors, who were rush-
ing around, wildly watching what I was do-
ing. I just got over the tree tops by a hair.
212
LEARNING TO FLY
Of course it was as good as a mile, but very
dangerous. After all, a Hun is a Hun and
always does funny things. RigM then and
there I promised myself a month in the guard-
house, and the thought put a rather peculiar
notion into my head. If I had to go to the
guardhouse for a month I wanted to give
them good cause for it.
Near the aerodrome was a railroad track
and just then a train was coming along it. It
was against all rules and regulations to chase
trains or dive at engine drivers. But I went
after this one and put the wind of my pro--
peller down the back of his neck. After that
I raised Cain with some cattle in a field
nearby and then I started back for the aero-
drome.
The skipper had been waiting for me. It
was getting dark and I was the only man who
had been up and who had not returned. This
time my landing was more successful. It
was a landing of the sort the skipper
liked.
I rolled right up to the shed, switched off,,
and climbed out. I stood at attention ready
to take my medicine.
213
THE FLYING FIGHTER
But I nearly dropped in my tracks when
the skipper began to speak.
''My boy,'' he began, ''you had us all
frightened to death. We thought you would
never get over those trees. You made the
record 'zoom,' but our hearts were up in
our throats all the time. It was a great
piece of flying, but for God's sake don't ever
do it again. You will report in the morning
at my office."
I spent a very uncomfortable night, being
constantly plagued by speculation as to what
the skipper wanted me for.
Though the old man had given no sign of
being angry, I feared that he had calmed
down while I was chasing the train and the
cows, but had not forgotten.
I reported in an uneasy frame of mind.
But the very first words of the skipper
showed that if he had not forgotten he at
least was willing to overlook things. Pres-
ently he convinced me that he was really
kindly disposed towards me. I was to go to
Paris and fly some machines to the squadron.
That was good news. I would be able to live
in Paris off and on, and right there I made
214
LEARNING TO FLY
up my mind that I would square everything
and see if I could not hold that job for a
long time.
I flew three machines to the school with-
out anything happening, but I was not so
lucky with the fourth.
Leaving Paris in the direction of our aero-
drome one has to fly over a forest which
offers no opportunities at all for landing.
It is a thirty-minute trip across that stretch
of ground, and I was in the habit of flying
high so that in case anything should happen
to my machine I would have room enough to
glide down into a field outside the woods.
I was over that forest with my fourth ma-
chine when of a sudden my engine stopped.
I began to glide and looked for an open spot
in which I could land. Finally my eyes fell
on what I was looking for.
As seen from above, the spot I had selected
appeared to be a lawn, but as I came nearer
to it I began to see hop poles; however, I
was now so low that I had to continue. I
landed slap-bang in that hop field and the
mess I made of those little poles for a dis-
tance of about one hundred feet was great.
215
THE FLYING FIGHTER
But the machine was a mess as well. The
poles had gone through the planes and
through the body— through everything, in
fact. A couple of them had gone through my
clothing. I pulled them out and then I climbed
out of the car to review the remains of what
once had been a perfectly good aeroplane.
Presently the owner of the field came out
with a gun. He wanted to know what I was
doing in his field. I explained to him that I
had had engine trouble, and that he could
make out a bill of damages then and there
for me to sign. This he did. The man then
helped me get the machine into an open field,
but before we succeeded in doing that more
damage had been done to the hops. It was a
day's job and it was dark before we got
the bus out.
After that I had to telephone my command-
ing officer and tell him of the accident, and
have a wrecking lorry sent to my assistance.
He said he would send some men and a
wrecking lorry.
We dismantled the bus, loaded her on the
lorry and took her to the aerodrome.
The chances that I would lose my assign-
216
LEAENING TO FLY
ment in Paris seemed very good. But the
skipper was nice about it. Instead of firing"
me peremptorily he sent me back.
On the next trip I had an excitable French
sergeant, who insisted that I should take him
to another flying school. It was only sixty
miles out of my way so I consented. But it
seemed like waiting for Christmas before we
arrived at the aerodrome at about 5:30 in
the afternoon. The weather was raw, and I
thought I would warm myself while the
mechanicians were busy filling the gasoline
tanks of my machine. Before I was ready to
start it was too dark. I would have to stay
over night in that camp, and since I could find
no accommodations there I decided to go into
a little town nearby. Some of the French
flying men were staying there.
I met them. They had never- met a khaki
flying officer before and insisted upon enter-
taining me. I was wined and dined and had
a splendid time all around. I reached the
aerodrome of the squadron without trouble,
but found that another man had been sent to
Paris to take my place. I was to fly south to
another school with a bus. On returning from
217
THE FLYING FIGHTER
the southern school I was sent to Paris to fly
a French machine back to our school. I met
boys at the school who pleased me very much.
I received my railway warrant which passed
me free on any train going from A
to Paris, and with my haversack containing
my shaving tackle and clean collars and pa-
jamas, I started off. I reached Paris about
9 at night on a pitch black night, which was
made worse by a nice, heavy rain ; so with the
idea that the weather wonld not be fit for fly-
ing the next morning, I started out to see the
sights. I took in the Follies and the Alham-
bra and then went to my hotel.
I did not put in a call to be awakened at
any special time, feeling sure it would be
raining in the morning. I slept like a log.
At 9 :00 in the morning I was rudely torn
from my dreams and presented with a wire
which came from my Squadron commanding
officer stating that I must be home as soon as
possible. I looked out of the window and
though the rain had stopped, the sky was
heavy and the clouds were low. But orders
are orders. I decided to fly the machine back
as soon as possible.
218
^i^AENINa TO FLY
With this in mind I called up the French
aircraft park and told the officer in charge to
have the machine ready as I was coming right
down to fly it away. I then called up the
Paris Naval station to send a car down to
take me out to the park. In the interval of
waiting I dressed, had breakfast, and when
the car rolled np to the hotel door I was
ready.
As I got into the car it was jnst starting
to rain, and by the time we got out to the
flying grounds it was pouring again. On ar-
riving I put on my flying clothes and asked
where my machine was. I was taken to it
and on examining it found it to be wet
through.
I had made up my mind to fly away that
morning at all costs, so as soon as the rain
showed signs of letting up, I climbed into the
bus, found a couple of mechanics and started
to try to get my engine working.
The French way of starting an engine is
quite different from ours. Our mechanics
would shout:
''Switch off, petrol on, air closed, suck in!''
and after a good charge of gasoline vapor
219
THE FLYING FIGHTER
had been sucked in by turning the propeller
by hand, they would shont :
Contact!" whereupon the pilot applied
the switch.
They wonld then give the propeller a pnll
over nntil they felt a cylinder on compres-
sion. Giving the propeller a smart pull now,
the cylinder wonld be forced over compres-
sion, and, getting the required spark, the
engine would start.
But the French had ways of their own,
and it took us about an hour to start the
engine, which would only hit on about half its
required cylinders. I had to shut down and
have it looked over and after another hour
we got it started again.
The motor was not all that could be de-
sired in the way of a smooth running engine,
but I decided to take a chance on it. I had
mapped out the course I was going to take
and put my map alongside the seat where it
would be handy.
I taxied to the far end of the aerodrome
and got into the wind, which was coming
right over the top of the hangars, and took
off, when, without any warning, my engine
220
LEAENING TO FLY
stopped. I was about fifty feet off the ground.
Not being a balloon I had to come down and
I could not turn as I hadn't enough height.
There was nothing to it but land on top of
the hangars, and I did.
The roofs were made of canvas and I flew
for a center beam which I thought would bear
the weight of the machine. I miscalculated,
however, and landed between two of them.
It was all done so fast that I did not have
time to get scared, and before I knew it I
was pinned upside down underneath the ma-
chine and inside the hangar. The ^ings of
the machine had been left on top and I came
on through with the fussalage of the machine,
which had turned while coming through the
roof and landed on its back vrith me under-
neath. The gang of workmen saw the fall
and rushed over, rolled the machine over to
its natural position and pulled me out. I
had had my right shoulder bruised some-
what, but it did not hurt very much.
I reported to the officer in charge, vdth. the
log books of the machine. He asked me if I
were still set on flying away and on my an-
swering *^yes," he gave me the books for an-
221
THE FLYING FIGHTER
other machine. This one was dry. We had
no trouble starting the engine and I was
mighty glad when I found myself about five
thousand feet over the aerodrome.
I was not even then done with my hard luck,
for, on getting about forty miles from the
'drome, I ran into a rain storm. In order to
dodge it I had to fly about twenty miles in a
roundabout way. I eventually got back into
my proper course, but I had gone along for
only an hour, when I was driven to within a
hundred feet of the ground by fog. I could
not see two fields ahead of me, but bent upon
getting to the squadron as soon as I could,
I kept on flying. Soon I had lost my way,
so that I had to steer by my compass.
I wanted to reach my destination as quickly
as possible, but when my gasoline ran out I
had to land, and when I did I found I was
fifty miles out of my course. My compass
had not been swung to the machine and was
useless. I obtained some gasoline and oil and
as soon as the fog lifted I got under way
again, after being tossed around by the bumps
that prevail after rains. I finally came in
sight of the naval aerodrome. I was mighty
222
LEAENING TO FLY
thankful the trip was over, as my right shoul-
der, which seemed to be getting worse, was
beginning to hurt badly, and I was thankful
to climb on board a good old train and start
for home.
When I returned from this eventful trip I
was sent to England to take a post-gradua-
tion course prior to going on active service
in France. I reported and was detailed to a
squadron in the north of England.
There I met old Beaw, a chap with whom
I had been an observer in the first squadron
I was with in France. A Yank named Ham
from Toronto and a few others made up the
greatest squadron I had ever been in. They
were always happy and had a commanding
officer who was one of the boys and who knew
the flying game, having been decorated with
the French Legion of Honor and English
military crosses. He was an Oxford *'blue"
and a member of a famous Oxford eight— a
gentleman of the highest order.
Within a short time I had flown every war
type of machine they had in the place. I
perfected myself in dropping bombs and
learned how to take photographs.
15 223
THE FLYING FIGHTEE
It was at this camp that I took my first solo
flight at night. I had been up at night before
as a gunner in France, and had some idea
what it was like to fly in the dark. Three of
lis were to go up that night ; I was the second.
The ronte was once aronnd the aerodrome,
then land and go np again for another turn
aronnd the aerodrome.
The man who was to be No. 1 had no trou-
ble carrying out this program. The flares
were up and so arranged as to show the wind
direction.
It got to be my turn. In flying at night,
and reasonably close to the ground, the avi-
ator can make out woods, roads, lakes and
rivers, and the lights in houses. Going up
and flying is a simple matter, but coming
down in the dark is quite a different thing.
The last twenty-five feet of the descent is
usually made with nerves on edge. It is
impossible in the night to judge distance to
the ground and careful judgment is needed to
avoid a pile-up.
Night flights in this aerodrome had on pre-
vious occasions resulted in the **crow act in
the hedge,'' as we call it, when a man lands
224
LEAENING TO FLY
his machine on top of a tree. I wished to
avoid that, if possible, and surveyed the sur-
roundings of the aerodrome carefully before
I went up.
The first spin around the aerodrome and
the first landing were made in very good
form. But while going around the second
time my engine started to cut out and I came
near making a forced landing on the roof of
the sheds.
There were a few other stunts I had to do
and then I was given my graduation certifi-
cate and my wings. That meant that I had
to take down my flying *'0,'^ which stands
for observer.
CHAPTER XVI
STUNTS AND ACCIDENTS
I HAD hoped that I would be sent to France
immediately, but instead of that I was made
an instructor. There were all classes of men
in my group. Two of them were particularly
interesting. One of them was an Irishman
and the other a Scotchman. The men of the
squadron looked upon them as '*nuts."
The Irishman had been flying slow buses
and when put on a fast one threatened to
hurt himself. However, the instructor had
patience with him, as he was a decent fellow.
After about two weeks of dual instruction, he
was sent up solo, being warned to be careful
and to put on proportionate bank and rudder
while making a turn. He was further in-
structed not to stay up any longer than
twenty minutes.
The Irishman started off and flew straight-
ways from the aerodrome towards the coast.
226
STUNTS AND ACCIDENTS
The instructor waited and waited and after
a while became anxious. The twenty minutes
were up and there was no sign of the Irish-
man. There was nothing to do but to start
after him.
But Copper, as the Irishman was known
on account of the color of his hair, could not
be found. I was wondering what had hap-
pened to Copper when an orderly rushed into
my room of a sudden and said that some-
body wanted to speak on the telephone to the
instructor who had gone after Copper. I
went to answer the telephone.
**HeUo, who's this?" I shouted into the
receiver.
**This is the commander of destroyer so
and so," came the reply.
**I want to inform you," he went on, *^that
I picked up a man out at sea, flying machine
No. 2464- A. I found him ten miles out. He
says he is known in the camp as Copper."
^*Is he hurt?" I asked.
*'No, he's thawing out down in the engine
room and drinking rum. You had better
send transportation for him and his machine.
Good-bye."
227
THE FLYING FIGHTER
Meanwhile Copper's instructor had come
down and I told him what had happened. We
had to send transportation to Copper, and
when the commander of the destroyer was
finally relieved of his unexpected company he
found he missed Copper's Irish wit very
much.
On the following day Copper turned up.
His instructor gave him a rather warm re-
ception.
**What in the name of blazes were you try-
ing out at sea, anyway?" he asked.
**Well," said Copper, **once I got up I
forgot what you told me, and when I tried to
turn the damn thing I landed in the sea."
**What did you go out to sea for?"
**Well," remarked Copper, **I thought
that in case I did come down it would be a
softer place to land, and the only mistake I
made was that I went out too far before try-
ing to turn."
The Scotchman, in trying to have a look
at his native land while up in the air, had
his first landing in the Scotch hills owing to
engine failure. He called us up on the tele-
phone and I was sent out to get his machine.
228
STUNTS AND ACCIDENTS
I took a lorry, knowing the funny things these
Huns of ours hit, having been one myself,^
and when I got up to that machine it was just
hanging between two trees which kept it from
falling over a cliff.
Two hundred feet below that cliff was a
waste of rocks, and yet the Scotchman had the
nerve to tell the commanding officer that he
had made a good landing. It was a good
landing, all right. I had to dismantle the bus
and carry it to the road and take it home on
the lorry.
Oh, we had some merry times in that squad-
ron. One of the instructors used to go out
over the town every morning and loop over a
monument in the main street. It never oc-
curred to him that this might give the towns-
people heart failure ; however, he had to have
his fun.
Before getting off on this particular morn-
ing, the machine of the instructor, while taxi-
ing across the ground, had picked up consid-
erable mud and grass with its tail skid. The
mud stayed there all right and while the
instructor was making his customary loop it
fell off, crashed through the skylight of a
229
THE FLYING FIGHTER
large store and caused much consternation.
The funny part of it was that the owner of
the store thought the flyer had done it on
purpose. He made a report to the Govern-
ment and we received an order not to fly over
that town again unless it was absolutely
necessary.
Our friend Copper did honor to his name
one day by coming in over the sheds too low
and putting his tail skid through one of our
skylights. In doing that he broke the glass
of the skylights and it fell on two buses and
cut them up considerably. Not satisfied with
that, Copper took away the flagpole, carried
off the flag, and smashed his prop doing it.
Then he landed, calmly got out of the bus,
picked up the flag and flagpole, and walked up
to an orderly whom he ordered to put the
things back in place.
Scottie was flying along the railroad one
day, chasing the Scotch express, which was
traveling at the rate of sixty miles an hour.
He was trying to put the wind up the back
of the engineer by swooping over the
engine. That was all right, but the trouble
was that Scottie forgot there were telegraph
230
STUNTS AND ACCIDENTS
wires on the other side of the track. He slam-
banged into them and wrecked this line of
communication for three days. As a result
of this fine exploit more drastic orders about
low flying were issued.
After that we went further away from the
'drome when we wanted to do stunts. Not
far from the aerodrome were a number of
shooting estates. We would picket men with
shotguns on the edge of the 'drome and one
of us would fly over the ground and woods to
scare up game, which consisted for the greater
part of pheasants, partridges and hares. The
snipers would do the rest. It was good fun
until Eobinson, a young pilot, had engine
trouble and landed in the middle of a little
wood on the estate. We had to cut a road
through the trees to get the machine out. It
cost the Government real money to get that
machine back.
After that the men higher up put their
foot down and stopped our little hunt. But
being full of spirit the boys had a lot of fun
anyway crashing around in the atmosphere.
Some of them used to leave camp with the
statement that they were going to tea some-
231
THE FLYING FIGHTER
where, and then we wonld not see them for
two days. Ham and I went np quite a num-
ber of times to see a friend of ours, who was
running a little Government saw-mill in the
hills. That boy had the finest and most expert
taste for good Scotch ever given any man.
At first we visited him occasionally only, then
we called upon him once a day, and later we
saw him twice a day. The reason for our
trips into the hills we kept secret for a long
while, until we met our friend in town one
night. "We were careless enough to introduce
him to some of the boys and in the course of
the conversation they learned why we were
so fond of the Government saw-mill.
Before long it was difficult to find an air-
plane in the aerodrome. In fact, we were
seriously considering transferring the estab-
lishment to the saw-mill. Then the com-
manding officer was permitted to share our
secret and another diversion of ours had to
be abandoned.
One by one the little stunts that used to
make life on the training aerodrome so very
interesting were lopped off. A general order
came forbidding any pilot to do stunts at ele-
232
STUNTS AND ACCIDENTS
vations less than 2,000 feet. But we made
up for that in other ways.
It was on a Sunday afternoon when I was
called to the orderly room of the command-
ing officer's office. I was told that I was to
leave next morning by the 11:30 train for
Glasgow, Scotland, whence I wonld proceed
to a little town jnst ontside and receive a ma-
chine of the type known as BE2E. I was to
fly that machine to a point in the South of
England and was to take with me on my trip
a chap named Atwood, known in the aero-
drome by everybody as *^Af
We canght the train, changed at Edin-
burgh, and found that we had some time to
spare before we could get the train for Glas-
gow. The two of us decided that we would
have a look at the town and we did so. We
found the place quite interesting and were
walking down Princess street when of a sud-
den we heard a roar, and, looking up, we be-
held an aeroplane known as a Eumpty type,
flying at about fifty feet above the ground. It
was flying over the street, but I don't know
yet what the couple of British Huns in it were
trying to do. The machine in question is
233
THE FLYING FIGHTER
large and slow and flies steadily enough. At
one end of the street there is a square and in
that square stands a monument. The Eumpty
'^zoomed" over it and missed its top by a few
inches. Then it went on. We learned after-
wards that the machine had landed some-
where further down the street. Cold shivers
ran down my back while I was looking at the
foolhardy stunts of the men in the machine,
but the people looking on were impressed only
by the daring of these bold British birdmen.
Arriving at Glasgow that night we called
up the aerodrome and let the commanding
officer know that we had arrived. Next
morning an automobile called for us and we
were taken to the aerodrome, which lies near
the factory where these machines are made.
**At" and I got into the machine we were
to take south, though neither of us liked the
looks of the weather. A storm was coming
up, but rather than lose time we decided to
go over the tops of the clouds.
Before we had gotten beyond the clouds we
were up 10,000 feet and it certainly was cold
up there. After that we headed for the hills
in the south and we had to go up a little more
234
STUNTS AND ACCIDENTS
in order to have enough gliding room in case
something should happen to the machine. I
have always found it the best policy to fly
as high as possible when using a machine
whose knacks and tricks I am not familiar
with. The prospect of landing in those snow-
covered hills did not appeal to us.
I froze a toe and part of my nose, but aside
from that nothing happened. The machine
was safely delivered at our aerodrome. We
had lunch and got thawed out, and then
started up again to take the buses on to their
destination. We had gone quite a way south
when more trouble came. We ran into a fog.
Ground fogs are the worst enemy of the avia-
tor. In addition to blotting out the marks by
which he steers, they also make it impossible
for him to find suitable landing places in case
of necessity. No pilot likes to fly in a fog, but
when he has to he generally holds close
enough to the ground to enable him to see at
least a little.
In a long distance flight we generally go
over the top of the fog and then find our
bearings by means of the compass and the
timing of the speed we are making.
235
THE FLYING FIGHTER
But we were not so very far away from
the point at which we were to land the ma-
chines to be refilled with gas and oil, and for
that reason going to the top of the fog was
out of the question. I hugged the ground
as closely as possible and in so doing
made as a first discovery that there are
large manufacturing towns somewhere in
the middle of England. I was going along at
low speed when suddenly there loomed up
before me, out of the fog, something that
caused my heart to stop beating. Right in
front of me stood a large and tall factory
chimney.
I turned to the right to avoid it, but I had
hardly done that when I was close to another
chimney, which was directly in my path.
Once more I turned. But before I had gone
very far I was up against another chimney.
I turned again; another chimney. I decided
to see if I could not get out of the forest of
chimneys by going in the other direction, but
that too had the same result — ^more chimneys.
For the next and longest ten minutes I ever
experienced I described circles and half-cir-
cles around chimneys with the machine now
236
STUNTS AND ACCIDENTS
on her nose, then on her tail, when not on her
side. I finally reached what I thought an
open place and then decided to go over the
top of the chimneys.
One of my reasons for staying so close to
the gronnd was that I wanted to keep in sight
of the railroad track which had served as my
guide. The weather was so thick that I could
not see two fields ahead of me.
When I came close to the ground again
after sailing over the chinmeys I found that
I had lost the railroads, as well as At and his
bus; for I afterwards found out that he had
landed some 20 miles behind to avoid risks.
There was no use in going on, because, for
all I knew I might run into more chimneys
and not get off so luckily the next time.
With that in mind I decided to land in the
first open field I came to. I came to one be-
fore long and landed. Soon hundreds of peo-
ple had gathered around the machine and
amused themselves by writing their names on
its planes with lead pencil. One yokel was
enterprising enough to cut a piece out of a
strut with his knife. I had a hard time fight-
ing these souvenir hunters, and I am sure that
237
THE FLYING FIGHTER
they would have carted off the machine bodily
had it not been for an of&cer of the law, known
in England as Bobby, who came and helped
me stave off the memento-hungry mob.
The officers told me that there was an aero-
drome five miles down the road. From the
minute directions he gave me I gathered that
I would be able to make those five miles de-
spite the fog.
I had some trouble getting that mob out
of the way, but succeeded in the end. I
started the motor, asked some of the men to
hold the machine back until I should signal
them to release it, and then climbed in.
I taxied to the other side of the field to get
into the wind. The crowd closed in behind
me and when I turned around to take off, the
onlookers scampered to the sides of the field.
I opened up the throttle and was just getting
off the ground when a little girl rushed out
in front of the machine, which was then going
about sixty miles an hour.
The only way to save the girl's life was
to take a chance on my own neck. Before I
knew it I had hurtled over the little girl,
missing her by a few inches with the under
238
STUNTS AND ACCIDENTS
carriage of the machine. I was going at such
a speed that had she been hit by any part
of the machine at all she would have been
killed. In getting over the little girl I lost my
flying speed and a bus without flying speed is
like so much lead. The result was that I
crashed into a hedge, smashed my prop to
bits, and then the machine landed on its nose
in the next field. The motor was making
about 2,200 revolutions a minute, and to make
things worse the gasoline tanks piled upon it
and were ignited. Within a second the entire
machine was ablaze. I was caught in some
debris of the machine about ten feet away
from the part that was burning. But I had
sense enough to save my haversack, in which
I carried my shaving tackle and my pajamas.
I also thought of my stick. Next I seized the
pyrene syringe and hurried over to the fire,
which I succeeded in putting out. By that
time a number of Home Defense Guards had
appeared on the scene, though the only thing
they found to do was to keep the people out
of the field.
I had made a fine mess of it.
After that I made a trip to the nearest
i6 239
THE FLYING FIGHTEB
telephone three miles away and called up the
wrecking crew of the aerodrome. They were
to come np and salve the remains of a per-
fectly good BE2E.
This was my first real crash as a full-
fledged pilot.
After that I went to a hotel, had a bath,
and examined myself for broken parts. But
aside from a good shaking up I had suffered
no injury. My companion, the haversack,
also was in good shape.
Next morning the commanding officer of
the aerodrome sent over the wrecking lorry
and a crew of students to pick up the odds
and ends. Some of the students were Cana-
dians and when later we met again at the
'drome they entertained me royally.
I could not leave that aerodrome until word
had come from the commander of my squad-
ron that I was to be relieved and sent back.
But I had to wait a couple of days for my
orders, being meanwhile billeted in a hotel in
the city. I put in my free time hanging
around the aerodrome and watching the boys
tearing through the air learning to fly.
While doing that I had occasion to find out
240
STUNTS AND ACCIDENTS
that I was not the only one who had done
queer things on his first solo trips.
One of the boys at this aerodrome — have
forgotten his name — ^was coming over a build-
ing about 70 feet high. On one corner of the
building there was a small tower on whose
top had been placed a weather vane resem-
bling a rooster. The apprentice pilot was
sailing a little too low, caught the rooster
with one of his planes, and went down in the
court behind a house a short way off, complete
with rooster.
The machine was completely demolished
and we thought that the man had surely been
killed. The aerodrome ambulance rushed off
to the scene of the accident as fast as it
could, but the man was found calmly sitting
on the wreck of his machine smoking the in-
evitable cigarette. There was a smile on his
face as he pointed to the rooster.
always did want to see that thing at
close range,'' he said, **but I did not want
to bring it home with me."
I knew several of the boys at this school
and found that they were learning to fly R. E.
8's, a machine that has the reputation of be-
241
THE FLYING FIGHTER
ing very tricky. Its main fault is tHat it is
hard to keep from spimiing, much to the dis-
comfort of the budding pilot.
I noticed that though the weather was bad
and cloudy, it being a raw spring day, there
was no let-up in the work of this aerodrome.
Pilots were then in great demand in France"
and training had to go on in almost any kind
of weather.
Venabels, one of the chaps I knew, had
just been transferred from the squadron I
was attached to. He was now flying an
R. E. 8 and seemed quite proud of his accom-
plishment. He was going to fly one of these
machines to-day, he said, for the special bene-
fit of the wing conunander, and started to
do so.
He left the ground in pretty good shape
and then went straight up. At about 300 feet
he tried to turn and then the machine went
for a spinning nose dive. Before its pilot
could right it again it had hit the groimd and
immediately burst into flame. Before we
could get to the man he had been burned to
death. Accidents will happen, of course, but
it made me sick to think about it, for he was
242
STUNTS AND ACCIDENTS
one of my best friends. And I always hate
to see them go that way.
Next morning I got into touch with my com-
manding officer and he gave me orders to go
to another factory for another machine.
This time I had a bus of greater power and
made a successful trip. After signing the
machine over to the receiving squadron I
reported to my own squadron and was sent
back to the same factory to deliver another
machine. This time I had a mechanic with
me. In the afternoon we landed at a squad-
ron to fill our tanks and get some food. After
that we resumed our journey. We had flown
about an hour and a half when we were over-
taken by a rain-storm. It was getting late
and for that reason I decided to land and
come down at Melton Mowbray, the world-
famed home of English pork pies and fox
hunting. We put the machine away for the
night and went to a large farmhouse where
we were received with open arms and well
entertained. The weather being bad, the next
day we went fox hunting. I put in a pleasant
day on a postage-stamp saddle, and all that
night I was sore and slept hardly at all.
243
THE FLYING FIGHTER
It was very windy next day but despite
that I decided to finish the trip. The clouds
were low.
As we started off I broke a king post on afl
aileron, just as I was getting off the ground.
I spliced and splinted it and made a success-
ful second start, reaching my destination
about 3:00 in the afternoon, after a very
strenuous trip.
CHAPTER XVII
AIE BATTLES OVER THE LINES
Upon reporting to the park commander, I
found that seven of ns, myself included, had
been detailed for overseas duty, which meant
France, and that we were to take seven ma-
chines with us.
I returned to the squadron and on the fol-
lowing day the seven of us started. We took
with us our mascot, a fox terrier puppy about
six weeks old. Pup was wrapped up in muf-
flers and fur helmet and, thus equipped, was
a passenger in the wireless box in Ham's
bus.
Though the weather was bad, we started
out, but we had not gone very far before we
realized that we would have to fly over the
tops of the clouds at an altitude of about
12,000 feet.
It was a splendid sight to see the seven
machines, six with two men and one with two
245
THE FLYING FIGHTEE
men and a dog, dodging around the big white
peaks of the upper world.
As we sped along we came to a hole in
the clouds and peeping down I spied an aero-
drome I knew very well. It occurred to me
that the gang would like to be taken down
there to feed the pup and fill up with juice
and oil.
I went down in a nose dive and the others
followed suit.
We landed, one after the other, took our
supplies and stretched our cramped limbs,
and, after feeding the dog with milk, started
up again. The hole in the clouds had not
closed up meanwhile so we went through it
once more.
We had gone about an hour or so when I
noticed that my pressure valve was acting
queerly. Next the engine stopped.
I began to use the hand pump to keep the
motor running until I could get to a place
where I could see the ground. But that
seemed quite impossible. The speed of the
engine was now so low that I was falling
anyway, so I stopped and dived downward
through thick clouds in a glorious plunge at
246
AIR BATTLES OVER THE LINES
about 140 miles an hour. Then I righted the
machine, picked out a field to land in, and
began to pump again like mad in order to
keep my engine running until I landed. It
had been my intention to fix my motor
and then join the others. I was hard at work
when suddenly I heard above me the whirr
of propellers, and, looking up, saw that the
other six were coming down also. The field
was none too large and I swallowed my heart
several times, as they came in to land, but
they all got down safely.
While my mechanician was busy on the
valves, I consulted my maps to find where
we were. I discovered that we were about
ten miles from an aerodrome and told the boys
that they had better start for it. There was
a taU row of trees on the windward side of
the field, which we had to ^^zoom" on getting
off the field, and once more I swallowed my
heart, as they started off, but no accidents
happened. By the time the last one was on
his wings my engine was running again and
I started after them.
At the aerodrome we had something to eat
and then we started off again, though it had
247
THE FLYING FIGHTER
begun to snow. The falling snow prevented
our seeing very far and before long only three
of us were together, the other four having dis-
appeared. As we neared F one of the
boys had water trouble and, on landing, he hit
a tree and landed on the ground in a crash,
nearly killing himself and his mechanician.
The others arrived safely.
Upon reporting at the **War House" in
London, as we called our general headquar-
ters, we were given two days ' leave and then
told to return north as ferry pilots. The work
of the ferry pilot consists of delivering ma-
chines from one part of the country to an-
other, such as we had been doing for a short
time.
That was a rude shock to us. We had bid
our friends in the north good-bye under the
impression that we would immediately go to
France, and now we were to spend more
time trundling machines from one part of the
country to another. Well, we did our best
to drown our sorrows during these two days^
leave. Finally, our commanding officer gave
us a little dinner to help us get over our
disappointment. To make sure that none of
248
AIE BATTLES OVEE THE LINES
us would grieve any longer from not being
able to go to France he also took us to a
show. The same night, flat broke, having en-
joyed ourselves, we caught a train for the
north and arrived at our aerodrome in
the morning, much to the surprise of our
friends.
Four days later we received orders to again
report at the '^War House," which is located
in the *'Big Smoke." On arriving there I
met an old Yankee friend of mine and he
greeted me with the remark:
^^How do you like the ^Big Smoke,' any-
way?"
Ever since then I have associated this name
with London.
That man's name, by the way, was Libby.
He is a Texan, and, like myself, is fond of
adventure. I had been able once to do Libby
a favor. Libby had made up his mind to fight
for the French, or at least drive a motor truck
for them, but the mechanical examiners were
not going to take him. I went to the com-
manding officer and told him that Libby,
though he might not know much about a
motor now, was sure to learn quickly, and
249
THE FLYING FIGHTEE
that I would see to it that he made himself a
nseful man.
The commanding officer thought it over for
a long time and finally let me have 'lAh.''
He proved that he was a clever chap and be-
fore long was one of the best drivers. When
we went to France Libby was one of the com-
pany. We had not been over there long
when he fell ill with pneumonia. The weather
there did not seem to agree with ns and ' ' Lib ' '
was sent back to England.
When he recovered he was sent back
to France with a repair unit, and, when next
I met him, he told me he was trying for the
Flying Corps. I had just managed to get
my own papers for the same corps and told
Libby how to go about it. He had action on
his petition very soon and became an officer
on probation in the Flying Corps shortly
after I did. He was sent to a squadron, and
during his period of observation he and his
pilot shot down ten Huns, for which they
each received the military cross. He was
later sent back to England to become a pilot,
went back to France and shot down ten other
Huns. Libby was some fighter, as the saying
250
AIE BATTLES OVEE THE LINES
goes, and lie was soon made a captain; I felt
proud to have him for a paL
At the ''War House'' I was informed that
I had been assigned to a scout and fighting
squadron doing service in France. I would
now have another opportunity to fight the
Huns.
Arriving in France I was given a machine
of the Spad type. I began to fly the machine
to discover its moods and tricks, and then
had it adjusted to suit my way of flying.
My first turn of service at the front as a
pilot consisted of patrol work for three days
running. It was an uneventful start. On
the fourth day I went up again on patrol
to 20,000 feet. I was looking for Huns up
there, but found none. Since it was very cold
I decided to go down a way, and shut off my
power.
At the level of 18,000 feet, I found myself
sweeping along a very large peak of cloud.
Intending to spoil its pretty formation I dived
into it, and, coming out on the other side,
found myself alongside of a Hun plane of
the Albatross type. I had no intimation
at all that a Hun was present and I guess he
251
THE FLYING FIGHTER
was in the same position. I suppose he was
as much surprised as I was when he saw me
emerging from the cloud. That he was sur-
prised was indicated by his failure to open
fire upon me after coming alongside of him.
Neither of us could shoot at the other for the
reason that the guns of the machines we were
flying were fixed to the machine so that the
machine itself has to be pointed.
We were so close together that this could
not be done without our ramming one an-
other, which both of us had to avoid if we
did not wish to crash to the earth together.
The Hun waved at me and I waved at him.
We found ourselves in a very peculiar
situation. I was so close to him that I could
see with the naked eye every detail of his
machine. His face also I could see quite
clearly, even to the wrinkles around his
mouth.
There was something odd in our position.
I had to smile at the thought that we were so
close together and yet dared not harm one
another. The Hun also smiled. Then I
reached down to feel the handle on my pres-
sure reservoir to make sure that it was in its
252
AIE BATTLES OVER THE LINES
proper place, for I knew that one of ns would
soon have to make a break.
I had never before met a Hnn at such close
quarters in the air and though we flew par-
allel to one another for only a few minutes, the
time seemed like a week. I remembered some
of the tactics told me by some of the older
and best fighters in the corps, and was won-
dering how I could employ them. Finally a
thought occurred to me. Two machines flying
at the same height are not necessarily on ex-
actly the same level, as they keep going up
and down for about 20 feet.
I was flying between the Hun and his own
lines and I had fuel for another hour and a
quarter anyway. I wanted to make sure of
this bird, but decided to play a waiting game.
We continued our flight side by side.
After a while, however, much sooner than
I expected, the Hun began to get restless and
started to manoeuvre for position; like my-
self he was utilizing the veriest fraction of
every little opportunity in his endeavor to
out-manoeuvre the antagonist. Finally, the
Hun thought he had gotten the lead.
I noticed that he was trying to side-slip,
253
THE FLYING FIGHTER
go down a little, evidently for the purpose of
shooting me from underneath, but not far
enough for me to get a dive on him. I was
not quite sure as yet that such was really his
intention, but the man was quick. Before I
knew what had happened he had managed to
put five shots into my machine, but all of them
missed me.
I manoeuvred into an offensive position as
quickly as I could, and before the Hun could
fire again I had my machine gun pelting him.
My judgment must have been fairly good.
The Hun began to spin earthward. I fol-
lowed to finish him, keeping in mind, mean-
while, that it is an old game in flying to let
the other man think you are hit. This bit of
strategy will often give an opportunity to get
into a position that will give you the drop on
your antagonist. The ruse is also sometimes
used to get out of a fight when in trouble with
gun jam, or when bothered by a defective
motor.
I discovered soon that this precaution was
not necessary, for the Hun kept spinning
down to the ground. He landed with a crash.
A few minutes later I landed two fields
254
AIE BATTLES OVER THE LINES
away from the wreck and ran over to see the
kill I had made.
I had hit the Hun about fifty times and had
nearly cut off both his legs at the hips.
There was nothing left in the line of sou-
venirs, as the Tommies had gotten to the
wreck before I did. I carried off a piece of
his props and had a stick made of it. That
night we had a celebration over the first Hun
I had brought down behind our own line since
I became a pilot.
Next day I went out to get another Hun
to add to my collection. I was in the act of
crossing the Hun lines when, bang! to the
right of me came a thud, and my engine
stopped. Eevenge, I thought. I volplaned to
, the ground, made a good landing in a field
just behind our lines, and, 'phoning up the
squad, I then had another engine brought out
to replace mine.
On my way to the squadron I witnessed one
of the greatest air fights I have ever seen.
It took place above the cemetery of P .
Three Huns were aloft behind their own
lines, and back of them was one of our pa-
troling scouts.
^7 255
THE FLYING FIGHTER
The Hun does not believe in coming over
OUT lines if he can possibly help it, and gen-
erally he will manoeuvre so that any engage-
ment will have to be waged over German ter-
ritory.
One of our men named Price, who was com-
ing in from patrol, was pilot of the scout,
which was flying at the same height as the
Hun aircraft, about 12,000 feet. Price was
well behind the Hun lines when they saw him,
and all three of them made for him at once.
I happened to be at an artillery observation
post, which I had to pass on my way home,
and so was able to get a good view of the
€ombat.
The foremost of the Huns made straight
for Price, and for a minute it looked as though
he intended ramming him. The combatants
separated again and began to fire upon one
another, as the tut-tut-tut of the machine guns
told me. Of a sudden one Hun volplaned,
while another made straight for Price. I
wondered what Price would do, but saw the
next moment that he had zoomed" over the
second Hun machine, which just then swooped
down upon him. While Price was ^^zoom-
256
AIR BATTLES OVER THE LINES
ing/' I noticed that the first Hun was falling
to the ground, having either been disabled or
killed by Price's machine gun.
Yet within a few moments the second Hun
also crashed to earth, and the third was now
making for home as fast as his motor would
carry him; but Price chased and quickly
caught up with him. It was an exciting race.
Price was working his machine gun for all
the thing was worth, and before long the third
Hun went down.
Just five minutes had been required for
the fight. When I met Price later I congrat-
ulated him. I remember wishing him all the
good luck a fellow could have. But that did
not help, for within a month he, too, came
down in a heap.
The day following the fight I went out on
another patrol, and, remembering what had
happened on the day before, I decided to go
up high before sailing over into Hunland.
The Huns were in the habit of being espe-
cially hard on our fellows after such an ex-
ploit as Price's, and I knew that I would
have to keep all of my wits about me that
day.
257
THE FLYING FIGHTER
I went np to about 15,000 feet and started
across the lines.
I had no trouble getting across Hunland.
But the day was fairly clear and the Hun
Archies,'' I soon discovered, were working
overtime. The amount of shrapnel ammuni-
tion they spent that day was not small. I
was about three miles behind the Hun lines,
when right ahead of me exploded a woolly
bear." It was all black smoke, with a heart
of fire and ragged at the edges. When it
burst my machine started to do a cake-walk.
It seemed to be out x>f control. The racing
motor caused such vibrations that I was
afraid the machine would fall to pieces. I
shut off power quickly and headed home-
ward, landing in one of our -advance landing
grounds.
The trouble was that one half of a pro-
peller blade had been shot away. Otherwise
the machine was unhurt. I telephoned for
another propeller and was soon up in the air
again.
I will admit that I had the greatest respect
for the Hun "Archie" batteries. The
woolly bear" they had fired at me was
258
AIB BATTLES OVER THE LINES
something new, and it certainly did damage
enough when it exploded near a machine.
Bnt dnty is duty.
After the mechanics had attached the pro-
peller I went up again, 'but shrunk at least
six inches when the next woolly bear" ex-
ploded quite close to me. I ducked into the
cockpit, although it is self-evident that one is
no safer in the cockpit than outside. When
the machine crashes to the ground the cockpit
goes along, since no one as yet has devised
any means of anchoring it to a cloud. Though
the bus I was flying was a fast one, that Hun
Archie" battery did most creditable work.
I must say that much for the Hun, though I
hate him like poison.
The Huns were good shots, even at the
elevation at which I was flying, where my
machine as seen from the ground appeared
no larger than a mosquito. I spent a very ex-
citing day. The fire of the Hun ^'Archies"
had never been as accurate as to-day and
those ''woolly bears" seemed to have us all
puzzled.
For all that, I had been lucky. When I
returned -to the aerodrome it was to learn
259
THE FLYING FIGHTER
that '^Pizzdoodle,'' an old Scotch friend of
mine and as fine a boy as ever lived, had been
brought down.
Capt. Albert Ball, one of the best pilots
in the corps and with more Huns to his credit
than any one else, had also been killed. The
same fate had overtaken a number of others,
many of whom I knew.
I spent a great deal of time that night
wondering whether it would be my turn next.
I remember looking over my medals and a
certain peculiar mascot of mine — a Chinese
doll. Life never seemed so imcertain nor so
short.
I had to wait next morning for quite some
time before I received orders to go on
patrol. In the meantime I had learned that
the King was coming to inspect our squadron,
and I wondered whether I would have to hie
myself into the blue just at that time and so be
obliged to miss the show. But luck was with
me this time and I stayed below.
Presently the King drove up in a car. We
were lined up and were looked over by the
royal eye. The King shook hands with the
commanding officer, chatted with him for a
260
AIR BATTLES OVER THE LINES
while, and then walked down our line. We
were presented to him one. by one, and the
King had a kind word and a smile for every
man.
After the King had addressed the man next
to me, the wing commander told him that I
was a Yankee; whereupon the King shook
hands heartily with me and told me that he
was proud of the Americans in the British
service.
He asked me how I liked flying, and I told
him that I had had no fair chance as yet,
having been shot down only twice. The King
laughed heartily and remarked that he had
no fear for me, that I seemed quite able to
take care of myself. He also gave it as his
opinion that the United States of America
would soon be doing fine work and giving a
good account of itself. Then he questioned
me as to my length in the service, and ex-
pressed the hope that we might meet again.
When the King had left our camp, I started
out on patrol with a feeling that something
was bound to happen that day. I was rather
blue, but I made up my mind that old
Archie,'' back of the Hun lines, was not
261
THE FLYING FIGHTER
going to get me this time if I could possibly
h-elp it.
I went up to 20,000 feet, and soon noticed*
that there was a fight under way across the
Hun lines. I wanted to see what was going
on and made for the spot, bnt I had not gone
very far before old woolly bear" picked us
up. Soon the shells were bursting all around
me.
Before long a gang of our men were mak-
ing for the scene of the fight and this gave
the Hun Archies" every. reason for sending
up their woolly bears."
The seventh shell that exploded near me
sent a steel fragment into my carbureter. Of
a sudden my motor slowed down, and, as
usual, I had visions of having to make a
forced landing in Hunland.
The piece of the shell had done consider-
able damage to the sides of the cockpit, and
for a moment I feared that it had smashed
some of my control. But that fear was un-
grounded, as presently I discovered. My
controls were still intact, and for that rea-
son I would be able to glide to the ground. I
swung my machine into position for a glide
262
SHOT DOWN FROM TEN THOUSAND FEET
A BAD LANDING IN A HEAVY GALE
AIR BATTLES OVER THE LINES
towards our line, and before very long I
was at 10,000 feet, with the Hun shells keep-
ing close to my track. Some of them ex-
ploded a little ahead of me, which is always a
bad sign for a descending man. It shows that
the Archie" gunners have a good line on the
course of the dive, and every next shell may
be the last for the man in the machine.
It was bad going on this day. The * 'woolly
bears" continued to stand in my way, and I
sped through their fumes nearly all the way
down. To this day I do not understand how
I managed to land, as I finally did, in a con-
venient field.
But forced landings keep a man's nerves
on edge. With the motor dead the pilot has
lost the full power to control the machine
when judging his landing place, and gener-
ally he reaches the ground at too great a
speed to make a safe landing.
On this occasion I hit the ground at a speed
of about 55 miles per hour, and had the mis-
fortune of being thrown to one side by a
bump on the ground which was struck by one
of the wheels. The next instant the machine
was on its nose, and then turned over on its
263
THE FLYING FIGHTER
back, and more or less smashed. During
the somersault I was stunned by being
thrown against the instrument board. The
result was that I was bruised all over,
and had my lip cut, my eyes blackened, and my
chin knocked up quite badly. I was unable to
get out of the wreckage, and still had to fear
that the gasoline, which was spilling from the
tanks, would ignite; in which case I would
have met the end which a pilot fears most.
After I had been pulled from the wreck,
I was given some badly needed attention by
a doctor who was passing ; then I went to the
nearest telephone and called up the command-
ing officer, who had me brought to the aero-
drome in a car. He also sent a lorry for the
remains of my bus.
That night we had our wing commander for
a guest at dinner, and he told me that they
were going to send me back to England for a
furlough. I wanted to stay, but he thought
that it was better that I should rest up a bit,
saying if I did not get out now the Huns
would soon get me for good. Though I had
raised some objection to being returned to
England, I was really quite willing to go. I
264
AIR BATTLES OVER THE LINES
have yet to meet the flyer who wants to go
back in the air after he has had the necessary
nnmber of spills, unless he is out of his mind
or has imbibed too freely.
The cumulative effect of accidents in fly-
ing is such that in the end the man has to fight
his nerves as much as the dangers of the air
and the Hun. I have known old pilots who
had been on active duty at the front for
months and months, and nothing seemed to
matter to them any more. For all that, they
were gradually falling to pieces. They were
keeping up physically well enough, but their
nerves were getting away from them, and the
moment was bound to come when they would
not be able to control them any more.
That state of affairs is easily understood
when one stops to consider that nine times out
of ten the man going over the Hun lines is
shelled. On almost every trip he may have
to fight some "Heinie,*' as we call the Ger-
man aviator. This means that the man aloft
is taking chances every minute. The thing
that keeps the man buoyed up is the thought
that he has become indispensable to the
men fighting on the ground. Without the
265
THE FLYING FIGHTER
airplane, modern military control wonld
be impossible. The men in the front
trenches rely entirely npon the observer
and his pilot for their communication during
a fight. The flyers know that, of course, and
for that reason strain every nerve to be of
service to the boys in the trenches. How
valuable the services of the flyer are is
shown by the fact that often they succeed
in cutting down by fifty per cent, the artil-
lery fire of the opponent through spotting"
the friendly artillery to the batteries that are
doing the harm
I got my route orders next morning and
then started for England. Some of the boys
envied me that I could go back to old Blighty,
and swore that the next time they went out
they would take a chance on being brought
down by the Hun Archies," who used the
woolly bear" shells.
I am inclined to believe that some of them
were as good as their word. Within a short
time three of them had been brought down
for good, and two others had to land on
German territory, where they were made pris-
oners of war.
266
CHAPTER XVIII
BACK TO BLIGHTY
TJpoiT my arrival in England I received
a week's leave of absence and when it was
over I was detailed to a good squadron near
the *'Big Smoke.''
My new duties consisted of having to test
and ferry to other squadrons and training
camps all sorts of buses. That took me all
over England and in some cases to France.
I enjoyed that work for a while, but soon
discovered that it was very strenuous. I was
almost constantly in the air, and the bad sea-
son was now on. For a while I was laid up
with bronchial pneumonia, an aihnent which
has frequently bothered me.
I made an attempt to be transferred to a
better climate as instructor, but there were
no openings just then.
Three weeks after my discharge from the
hospital I went to work with a new squad.
267
THE FLYING FIGHTER
My present detail had another feature
which was not welcome to me. I was ex-
pected to fly every type of machine which
was then being manufactured, and these types
were not few in number. The first day in
camp one of the pilots, a chap by name of
McGurrie, had engine trouble while in a
scouting machine, and injured himself in
landing. Since just then I was flying the same
type of machine I made sure that my motor
was 0. K. before leaving the ground. But
despite that I had the same sort of accident.
A few days later one of the fellows got his
machine on its back while up in the air, and
had a hard time righting it again. He came
near landing on his back, which, of course,
would have been the end of him.
It was the duty of the men in the squadron
camps near London to participate in the
manoeuvres against the Zeppelin raids. Nine-
tenths of the alarms were false; but it was
impossible to tell the scares from tBe real
thing, and for that reason we would go up
and patrol around until the **all clear" signal
came out. Usually that led to very long
flights, which was a hardship in many cases,
268
BACK TO BLIGHTY
for the reason that we used to go up in what-
ever clothing we happened to have on when
the alarm came in, no time .being taken by us
to dress. When the alarm signal came, we
had to rush for our machines, jump into them,
and then get off without delay of any sort.
Some of the alarms came at night, of course,
and I have seen men climb into their machines
in their pajamas. And pajamas are not quite
the thing for a three hours' patrol in the air.
It is always cold up there, no matter what
the season may be, and the speed of the ma-
chine intensifies that cold many times. Many
of the men almost froze to death, and often
they would land because of that before the
^^all clear'' signal came.
I went up once to an elevation of 14,500
feet. I was up there an hour and a half, and,
being above the clouds, had no idea where I
was. Of a sudden my revolution counter
broke and the air pressure in the gasoline
tanks gave out. I shut off the engine and
started towards the ground. The machine I
was in had a flying speed of about seventy
miles per hour. That meant that I would
have to keep up good speed all the way down.
269
THE FLYING FIGHTER
The first stratum of cloud I went through
was so wet that a lot of it froze to the ma-
chine. It was enormously thick, and for all
I knew it might hang only a few hundred feet
above the ground. There was the chance
that I would emerge from it and find myself
over the very center of London, which is as
poor a landing field as anybody would care
to have. As I was going down, the thought of
finding a convenient landing spot plagued my
mind constantly.
I had plunged down 5,000 feet, so far as
my instrument showed me, and was still in
that cloud. I had given up all hope of ever
getting out of it when suddenly I dived into
clear air and saw the ground. The machine
I was flying had a small gliding angle, and I
would have to find a landing spot quickly.
Having ascertained now that I was not go-
ing to drop in the city of London, I was much
relieved, but I had some trouble, neverthe-
less, in discovering a reasonably level space.
The machine was plunging towards earth at
a terrific speed and I had little time to pick a
convenient spot. Nothing upon which my
eyes lit seemed to serve the purpose. But
270
BACK TO BLIGHTY
finally I found an open space and decided
to settle down upon it. I was sure that
a good landing could be made, but such was
not the case. In striking the ground the
machine turned turtle and was rather badly
damaged.
While the machine was turning over, I had
presence of mind enough to throw myself out
of the cockpit. I landed on my head but suf-
fered no injury. To my mind came then a
remark made to me by the doctor of the hos-
pital to which I was taken after I had been
shot in the head in France.
**It is a lucky thing,'' said the doctor,
**that your head is of solid ivory, and seven-
teen inches thick; otherwise you would have
been killed."
There is no doubt that had it not been for
the cast iron constitution which I enjoyed
prior to enlisting I would have died long
ago.
Old Ham also was working on this aero-
drome. One day he took up a big bus for a
test and while he was up the engine gave out.
He came down suddenly and landed on a
railroad track. At the aerodrome a gang of
18 271
THE FLYING FIGHTER
German prisoners were employed to level off
the ground surface. They would laugh and
jeer every time there was a crash. They did
so on this occasion; in fact, they never lost a
chance to let us know that their enmity
towards us was real enough.
On the day Ham crashed I flew down the
coast with a bus to be delivered in France. I
made a fine trip, but on getting over the
station at which I was to land I shut off
power and started to spiral down. Unfortu-
nately, the wind drifted me off, and when I
came out of my spiral, at the height of about
500 feet, my engine would not start again.
I tried everything possible to get that
motor spinning, but it was no use. I did not
have height enough to get over the road, on
the other side of which the aerodrome was
located. On this side of the road stood some
small pine trees and I settled down upon
them. Luckily, the trees were small, and
their tops formed a gentle cushion for me to
land on. The propeller of the machine was
slightly damaged, but that was all.
I climbed out of the machine with my bag,
stick and log books, and reported at the head-
272
BACK TO BLIGHTY
quarters of the aerodrome. The command-
ing officer happened to be in.
have brought yon down a DH5, sir," I
said.
**Is it any good?" he inqnired.
**It's perfectly all right except the engine,"
I answered.
Where is it?" asked the officer.
* ' It 's over on the pine trees, ' ' I replied. * * I
cut ont the engine when I was away up and
then it refused to start again, so 1 landed the
machine in the trees."
For a moment the officer did not know what
to say, then he smiled and asked me if I were
hurt and offered me a cigarette. After that
he signed my log book and gave me a receipt
for the machine. I had lunch with him and
then returned to my squadron.
Ten days later I had another weird trip.
I was up in the air a good many thousand
feet and the fog and haze were so thick that
I could see very little. Above me there was
another layer of cloud, so I decided to get to
the top of that and then fly by compass and
speed.
Before I reached the top of that cloud
273
THE FLYING FIGHTER
stratum I liad ascended to 13,000 feet. Thea
I headed for my destination, wMcli I knew
was about forty minntes distant, if I kept up
ordinary speed. I allowed for tke time I had
taken by going np so high, and after forty
minntes' flight on the level I started to de-
scend. I had dived a good ways bnt conld see
no ground. The thing began to worry me. I
looked at my instrument, and that showed me
that I had gone 12,000 feet. Since I had gone
up to 13,000 feet I conld be no more than
1,000 feet above the earth. Bnt no ground
could be seen, and yet when I had gone up
the weather had not been thick enough to
make it impossible for a man to see that far.
But the weather in England is a most un-
reliable and treacherous thing. I got down,
to 300 feet and then the first thing upon which
my eyes hit was a building which in another
instant I recognized as the town hall of
A . I pulled on the throttle, but the
engine did not respond. At that height there
is no time for manoeuvring, and in this case
there was also no room. So I made up my
mind to trust to God and then let the bus
have her way. I was just about to land in a
274
BACK TO BLIGHTY
street, as things looked, when the motor sud-
denly kicked four or five times and started
otf. I literally swallowed my heart and sat
back in the seat, glad to get that thing out in
the open country. I noticed that in some
places the clouds were hanging as low as
fifty feet above the ground ; a young gale was
coming from off the sea. But my troubles
were not over yet.
There is a regulation which restrains
pilots from flying over certain prohibited
areas, such as sites occupied by munition
plants and works which manufacture high
explosives. There are so many of these pro-
hibited areas that it is impossible to remem-
ber them all. The man who does not remem-
ber them is likely to get shot at by the
English * ^Archies," or reprimanded if caught,
and I had to find an aerodrome as soon as
possible to avoid these, which I did, and I
was very thankful after I was once more on
Mother Earth. The same fate may befall the
flyer while going over to France. We were
required to leave our own coast at an eleva-
tion of 5,000 feet and the French had a similar
regulation.
275
THE FLYING FIGHTER
On one of my first trips to France, made in
company with eleven others, we were heading
for the Channel at an elevation of nine
thousand feet. That cansed the English
Archies" to shell ns. They were nnder the
impression that we were Huns. Bnt we made
ourselves known by coming down to the pre-
scribed level.
As a rule, we returned to England from
our trips to France by the Channel boats.
But often old machines had to be flown back
from the parks in France, and in that
case we made our return journey in the
air.
We used to do our best to make sure that
the machines were in proper shape before
starting on a trip. It is not pleasant to land
in the middle of the English Channel and
float around for an hour or more before a
patrol boat picks you up. But it is quite a
common occurrence to make forced landings
in that body of water. The number of ma-
chines turned out in England increased rap-
idly, and many men were engaged in ferrying
them across to France. Though proportion-
ately accidents were few, once in a while the
276
BACK TO BLIGHTY
ferry flyers and their inacliines would never
be heard from again.
We had to fly when ordered, and there were
times when it made no difference at all what
sort of weather prevailed. That depended
somewhat on the demand for machines at the
front. As the aviation training schools in
England multiplied, our work increased by
leaps and bounds.
There was also much testing to do. There
were days on which the testing pilots, of
whom I was one, had to be up continually,
and to our commander it made no difference
what the state of the weather was. It might
rain pitchforks and hammer Handles and still
our work had to go on. We used to take
turns at testing and ferrying, and very often
faults of the machine that had not developed
during the test would show themselves while
we were taking it to its destination. Our
measure of experience was getting fuller
every day, and some of the things that hap-
pened to us were queer indeed; yet it was all
in the day's work.
While I was on ferry work between Eng-
land and France I had a very good chance
277
THE FLYING FIGHTER
to observe what the naval flyers had to deal
with. In the first place I conld see the bottom
of the channel the biggest part of the way
across. From an altitude of several thousand
feet the bed showed np in brownish grey, ex-
cept for the large deep holes, which appeared
blue. It seemed queer that one should be able
to see the bottom where big steamships were
traveling, and I could easily understand now
how the naval airmen could see a submarine
when submerged.
This particular search is quite interesting.
The patrols, keeping a lookout for hostile
craft of that kind, would cruise about until
they had spotted one of the *Hin fishes."
Then they would go down and drop aerial tor-
pedoes on it. If they saw other hostile ships,
they would call up the naval station and no-
tify it. A destroyer would be ordered to the
scene, and then the naval airmen would help
with the bombing. At other times they would
watch for hostile aerial coast patrols and
raiders bound for various points in France
and England. The naval men have become
so efficient that it is very seldom that enemy
craft of any kind, either on water or in the
278
BACK TO BLIGHTY
air, go on reconnaissance without being
fought by them. In many instances they have
been able to inflict heavy losses upon the
Hnns.
Besides meeting the difficulties of flying
over water, the naval men have to train them-
selves to land on water, which is quite a tick-
lish thing to do, for the reason that for the
last few feet there is nothing to show what
the distance between the machine and the
water's surface is, and many a spill occurs
in learning. Water is as hard as land to fall
on, and not soft, as many seem to think. It
will smash a plane as quickly as i* it had
landed on the ground.
Men who fly on the ground cannot neces-
sarily fly over water. Some men seem to
lose their sense of equilibrium when out of
sight of land, and, as the sea is such a tre-
mendous body, that is not to be wondered at.
Conditions vary a great deal over water
and when correcting bumps or small erratic
air currents one has often to resort to his in-
clinometer and other instruments to keep
right side up ; for the fact that the water is
level and of the same color when one looks
279
THE FLYING FIGHTER
ahead, has a disconcerting effect npon the
vision. While flying over the clouds, which
are generally of more level formation over
the water than they are over land, the horizon
is harder to judge, making aerial navigation
very difficult at times. This has resulted in
the use of several mechanical contrivances
such as the artificial horizon, already in-
stalled on destroyers.
On a beautiful day in May I left for France
— ^that is to say, it was a beautiful day in
England. A little further south the weather
was only half decent.
Providing the bus behaves well the trip
from station to station can be made in an
hour and ten minutes. That is rather a long
time to be in the air without good landing
underneath, and for that reason and the long
delays and trouble caused by forced land-
ings, we used to take a careful look at the
weather before we left. On this occasion, a
squall set in while I was half across the
Channel, and I had great trouble keeping the
pitching bus out of the water.
On another day I had picked a new route
aroxmd the northern part of London. The
280
BACK TO BLIGHTY
weather was fine and I had gone about sixty
miles when the thought occurred to me that
I would look up some of the boys at H., who
were on home defense work. I had tea with
them ; then, at about five o 'clock in the after-
noon, I was ready to continue my trip to
France. I said good-bye to the gang and got
into my bus. From where I was I had to , go
due south and across the Thames Eiver.
I was not flying very high when on looking
into the cockpit, I noticed that gasoline was
spilling on the floor. I was unable to tell
where the leak was, and rather than run
chances I turned off my pressure. The
motor stopped, and, as it did, I began to
look around for a field in which I could land.
I managed to get to earth all right, and then
walked a mile to borrow a wrench, which I
needed to replace the pipe that feeds the
gasoline into the motor. Then I discovered
that the tank was nearly empty. That meant
that I would have to go in search of juice.
I managed to get two gallons, and since
I was consuming gas at the rate of eight
gallons an hour, it was hardly enough to
start with. But I had to get away soon, be-
281
THE FLYING FIGHTER
canse a rain storm was coming np and I did
not intend being caught in it in the open
field.
I was at a loss what to do and so I consulted
my maps as to the location of the nearest
aerodrome. It was twenty miles away and
in the direction of my flight. My two gallons
of gasoline might take me there, and so I
started off. About fifteen miles further on
my engine again stopped, this time for want
of fuel. J ust then the rain storm struck me.
I had taken the precaution to go up high
enough so in case something should happen
I would have room for a safe landing. But
to dive in a rain storm is a very trying ex-
perience. The great speed of the machine
causes the rain drops to strike hard, giving
one the sensation that a thousand needles
are being driven through the face. The
water also blurs the sight as it dashes against
the glass of the goggles, and the situation is
rendered more difficult by the air currents,
which during rains become very pronounced.
I had spotted the aerodrome I wanted to
get to about half a mile ahead of me and
started down for it ; but I fell into so many
282
BACK TO BLIGHTY
air holes and was bnmped abont so mncli by
the currents that I began to fear the machine
would be torn to pieces. I wished to land in
the aerodrome, bnt feared that if I continued
in the direction I was going I would end in a
crash, as I had not- enough height to make
the 'drome. It seemed best to attempt land-
ing in a field, and I was about to do so when
some of the men from the aerodrome came
out to help me.
As I tried to settle to the ground the men
got ready to catch me by taking hold of the
wings, which is the usual way of catching
machines as they land in an aerodrome in
strong gales or storms.
But for some reason that machine would
not settle down but made straight for a
fence. I tried to put a sort of brake on the
bus by applying pressure on the tail skid.
This is the only way one can stop a machine ;
the tail is light and the pressure is not
heavy enough to pull a fast machine up in a
short space, but it helped. Two men seized
a plane each and my landing would have been
a success had it not been that one of the men
stubbed his toe and let go.
283
THE FLYING FIGHTER
The part of the machine which was re-
leased began to spin about the part that the
other man was holding. A tire flew off one
of the wheels, and for a moment it looked as
if I was to have a spill after all, but luck
was again with me and I came out of it
safely.
The aerodrome upon which I had landed
was only in the course of construction, and
for that reason I had to telephone to another
aerodrome to get a tire, and the gasoline and
oil I needed. Since there was no telephone
at the 'drome, I had to go to a nearby village
to attend to this matter. I had just started
off when I heard a crash from the direction
of the aerodrome. Looking around I saw an
airplane standing on its nose. I rushed back
to the aerodrome to see if I could be of any
help to the poor devil, but found that he was
dead. We had to cut his body out of the
wreckage. Then we wrapped it up in a
blanket. The poor man was an awful sight.
His head had been completely crushed in.
Right then and there I made up my mind that
flying after all was a poor game. It occurred
to me that any fool could fly, but that it took
284
BACK TO BLIGHTY
a wise man to stay on the gronnd with, both
feet
I rested np that night and on the next day
flew that bus of mine to France and delivered
it 0. K. Bnt all the time that I was np iq
the air I thonght of my poor dead pal, for ia
the Flying Corps we are all pals.
The thonght of qnittiag the flyiQg bnsiness
had come to me before, bnt there is a pecnliar
fascination abont it. Hairbreadth escapes
may momentarily sicken a man of the sport,
bnt when the occasion has passed he longs
to be np again in the bine.
The work I was doing had ceased to inter-
est me. I wished myself back at the front,
and made several attempts to get there. Bnt
the attack of gas poisoning had left my Inngs
in very poor condition, and constant exposnre
to the raw wind while flying did not seem to
make them better. Still I wanted to be back
in the game in France, or as Tommy calls the
country, 'Ell. On the other hand, I had the
consolation of knowing that so far I was not
**pnshing np daisies" — another expression of
Tommy's when he wants to say that some pal
of his has died. Meanwhile, I had made np
285
THE FLYING FIGHTER
my mind sometime to get a bus of my own
and then fly to suit myself.
Testing and ferrying airplanes from one
part of the world to the other had come to
be my lot, it seemed. The air had now lost
most of its thriUs for me and the only sur-
prise that came my way was when some com-
rade of old came to look me up.
One fine afternoon an orderly came to me
with the information that there was some-
body looking for me at the gate. To my sur-
prise I found there one of the survivors of
the old Tenth Canadian Battalion, and they
were exceedingly rare now. The man's name
was Maklin.
CHAPTER XIX
OLD TIMES AND NEW
Maklin and I had lived together in the
same section of Canada, and he was one of
those who had enlisted in the original three
hundred that joined at Calgary. For a long
time I had not heard of him and I had given
him up for dead. The last news I had of
him was that he had an eye shot out and had
also lost part of his nose while rescning his
company commander from the barbed wire
field in front of the trenches. For that
Maklin had received the D. C. M.
When Maklin called He had with him
Corporal Kerr, owner of a Victoria Cross. I
took the two men into my quarters and there
we got Kerr, after a great deal of urging, to
tell how he earned the V. C.
**Well, yon know," he started *'we were
out in the firing trench and we were doing our
trick at sentry one morning at dawn. I was
19 287
THE FLYING FIGHTER
just talking over with a pal how sick we were
of trench life and how disgusted with every-
thing in general. Just then a sniper from
the other side picked off my pal.
**That made me so mad that I got over
the top and started for the Hun line.
**I got over without being hit and rushed
straight for the Hun trenches, hitting the
bottom of one just at the entrance to a dug-
out.
*'I hollered down to them to come up. The
first two or three showed fight and I stuck
them as they kept coming out.
"I kept sticking them until I had cleaned
out that dugout. Then I went to another dug-
out, and as they came out I made them disarm
and get over the top of their own trenches
into No Man's Land.
"When I had the bunch out there I climbed
after them and started for our trenches, just
in time to meet some of the men who were
coming over to help me.
"I had killed twenty Huns and had
made sixty-two prisoners. Hence the deco-
ration.
Kerr would not talk much about the other
288
OLD TIMES AND NEW
stunts he had done, but he said that this one
was nothing at all.
We passed a very pleasant afternoon to-
gether. Ham, my **side kick," took Maklin
up for a ride while I showed Kerr the dif-
ferent machines. Then we talked trench war-
fare, and finally drifted back to the experi-
ences we had had back home.
While I was talking to Kerr a couple of
Grahame-White machines passed overhead,
and I explained to him that they were called
Grahame-White bullets on accoxmt of the
speed they did not have. These machines
were then being used for training purposes.
To show Kerr what a really good machine
could do, I got into a small scout flier of the
DH5 type and went up. But my demonstra-
tion didn't work out. On taxiing out to get
the wind, the under-carriage broke and let
the bus down on one side. So I went back
and resumed the ^'chin-chin" with Kerr and
the others boys. That evening we dined to-
gether and talked of old times.
But life was still a matter of testing ma-
chines and delivering them. One day when
the weather was thick I was scouting around
289
THE FLYING FIGHTER
at about ten thonsand feet. I noticed that
the balloons were up all over the country,
which meant that more weather was coming.
The balloons in question are sent up by the
London weather bureau in order that the
general direction and nature of the wind and
weather conditions may be learned.
When I saw the balloons I made up my
mind that I would have to go still higher to
escape the storm, but I had not climbed very
much when of a sudden it grew dark and
more sultry than ever. There was lots of
clear blue beyond, of course, and I decided
to make for that as fast as I could. I was
doing very nicely when a black object
loomed up in front of me. It was one of the
weather bureau balloons. There was no tell-
ing what might happen in case I hit the thing,
but to avoid it was possible only if I made a
very sharp turn to the side. I twisted the
machine around and missed the balloon by
just a few feet. The current made by my
propeller caught that gas bag, however. It
began to swing wildly, and for a moment I
feared that it might turn upside down. The
men inside the car hung on to an armful of
290
OLD TIMES AND NEW
guy ropes for dear life. While it would have
been impossible for me to help the men, I
made a flight aronnd the balloon. But the
men in the car were now scared more than
ever. They motioned to me to go away. I
did not hear what they said bnt I guess it
must have been quite unprintable. There was
nothing else to do but to plunge into that haze
again and continue going up.
At fourteen thousand feet I reached the
top of that layer. I had started out in hot
and sultry weather and for that reason did
not have on my heavy clothing— just a dirty
trench coat. The machine I was flying at
that time used castor oil and a lot' of it was
always being thrown over the bus. It was
cold at fourteen thousand feet, and I was
just thinking of the many nicer places I could
be in when the engine took a notion to stop.
There was nothing to do but go down for
the time being, so I plunged back into the
haze and the cloud formation, and while the
machine was planing down I did my best to
find out what was wrong with the motor.
I was still within the sphere of the balloons,
so between keeping my plane from going
291
THE FLYING FIGHTER
down on its tail, exanuning the motor, and
keeping an eye open for possible balloons, I
was kept rather busy. I was within one
thousand feet of the ground, according to
my instrument, and still the engine refused
to budge. I began to look for a field in
which I could land and discovered the pas-
ture of a dairy farm. There was a large
herd of cattle in the field but I had not no-
ticed them on landing. When I saw them
they were making for the fences and hedges
in all directions with their taUs up in the air.
The trouble was that the said fences and
hedges were all a little too high. Three or
four of the animals were beached as they
reached the top of the hedge and seemed to
find it impossible to move either way.
The old farmer to whom the animals be-
longed did not appear to be pleased. He
came out with a gun in his hands, and for a
few minutes it looked as if he intended using
that barker on me and the bus. The man was
red in the face and mad clean through when
he reached mc.
**Ay myte! What do you think this is — a
bloomin* 'eathenish picnic?" he shouted.
292
OLD TIMES AND NEW
*^Wliat do yon think I'm mimin' 'ere — a
blinMn' circus!"
I explained to tlie wrathful farmer that I
had not come down to scare his cattle on
purpose, telling him that my engine had
broken down and forced me to land in his
field.
He wanted to know why I had to land in
his field.
I explained to him that his field was the
only one big enough to land in.
But that did not seem to improve the
temper of the man any. He informed me
that he was going to claim damages for three
days' milk from the Government*
At first I did not know what he meant by
three days' milk. Then he informed me that
he was sure his cows would not give any milk
for that many days.
From the looks of things I gathered that
he was not far wrong. Some of the cows
were still struggling to get over the fence one
way or the other, and were having quite a
lively time of it. But in the end they man-
aged to get away.
A shot of brandy from the flask which I
293
THE FLYING FIGHTER
always carry with me did not seem to make
any appeal to the man. I offered him the
flask but he turned me down. Then, in order
to get the fellow into better hnmor, I offered
to take him up for a ride, but he said that it
was not for him. He had too much sense to
go flying in a **bloomin' rattletrap like that."
Thinking that I might yet be able to do
the man a favor I offered to take up his wife,
but to my great surprise the farmer was
madder than ever
We had a hard verbal set-to right then and
there, and in the course of the argument I
called the farmer a pro-German. This out-
raged him to such an extent that I really be-
gan to fear the man was going mad.
I decided to try a little strategy on him. I
took out my notebook with a very serious
mien and asked for his name and address.
That helped. Of a sudden he grew very
cordial and even invited me to come into the
house for lunch. Being very hungry I ac-
cepted that invitation. After lunch I repaired
my motor and then got the old fellow to hold
down the tail of the bus while I started the
engine. I had told him to let go of the tail
294
OLD TIMES AND NEW
when I motioned, and to take the sticks from
under the wheels when I waved at him with
my hand.
Everything progressed finely until the
farmer went to take the sticks from under
the wheels. He managed to get one of them
away, and he was just starting for the other
side when the machine started to turn, push-
ing the other stick out of the way. As the
machine began to move the old man began
to run.
Since I was in the wind I opened the
throttle and started after the farmer, who
was then going at a rate of at least twenty
miles an hour and was gaining speed with
every second. Just as I got up off the
ground I took another look at the old
fellow and found that he had caught his
foot on something or other. He turned a
somersault and then measured the remainder
of his field to the fence by rolling all over him-
self. I turned back over the field and flew in
a circle to see if he was hurt, but by the time
I got over him-he was on his feet again, shak-
ing both fists at me. I made another flight
over the field, wondering what made that
295
THE FLYING FIGHTEE
man so mad, and then I noticed that some-
thing else w.as ocenpying the old farmer.
The noise of the motor and the size of the
huge bird had stampeded the cows again.
Since I did not want to torment the old man
any more than was necessary I made off for
good, thongh I shonld have liked to hear what
he had to say of me after that. There is no
doubt that he wished I would break my neck
or do somethiDg similar, but I finished my
trip without further mishap.
A few days later I was to take another
machine to the coast for delivery. Three
other machines were in the group. We left
about eleven o'clock in the morning, and we
were near our destination when I saw a flock
of Huns coming inland from the sea.
My machine had a gun, but I had no
ammunition. We were near the aerodrome
to which we were to take the machines and
dove down to it with all possible speed to get
ammunition. The other men had also seen
the Huns and were coming after me with all
possible speed. We had just landed in the
aerodrome and were taxiing our machines
to the shed, when a Hun bomb struck in a
296
OLD TIMES AND NEW
nearby field and exploded with a tremendous
crash.
I had gone to see the commanding officer
to get ammunition when an order came over
the telephone that no machine destined for
the troops in France should go up. That
order had hardly been received when another
crash came, and this time we took to our heels
across the aerodrome. We were near the
other side of the field when a third bomb
crashed to the ground and exploded near us ;
so we ran back like mad. The Huns aloft
seemed to have it in for us, and our running
about merely showed them that their bombs
were having some effect. Then somebody
shouted :
**Lie down! Lie down!''
The order was accompanied by some caus-
tic remarks, and we had hardly obeyed it
when more bombs dropped around us.
By the time that the necessary ammuni-
tion had been issued to us and we were ready
to take up the chase of the Huns they were
well on their way home. This raiding party
was never caught by the patrols in Eng-
land, though those in France spotted them
297
THE FLYING FIGHTER
and gave battle, bringing down two of
them.
On the following day we learned that a
good many people had been killed in Folke-
stone, and that considerable damage had
been done by the raiders. The result of onr
experience was the issuance of an order that
in future all machines flying in England or
being ferried to France were to carry ammu-
nition. Most of the boys were praying for a
chance to get even with the Huns. It was
the first time that Hun flying machines had
made a raid upon England and did any dam-
age in that section.
CHAPTER XX
MEETING THE KING
Not so very long after that some of us
got the chance we were looking for. Early-
one morning the alarm came that the Ger-
man air raiders were coming. Those of
US who had machines that were ready went
up immediately, and others went up in ma-
chines that were not ready, the result of which
was three rather serious accidents in which
three men were badly smashed up.
But a few of us got up and cruised about
at an elevation of sixteen thousand feet. In
our hurry many of us had not taken the
time to put on our heavy flying clothing, and
these men came near freezing to death in that
high altitude. We Jiad cruised around for
nearly an hour and a quarter when I saw one
of our machines make a straight line for the
sea. I followed, and before long I was able
to count twenty-two Hun machines coming
299
THE FLYING FIGHTER
towards ns. I recognized them as the big
bombers used by the Germans.
The Huns were a little to one side of ns,
so that I and the other man who had flown
towards the sea were on their flank. The
man in the other bus was old Ham, as I
learned presently. He had a faster machine
than I had and was endeavoring to get above
the Hnn formation. After a while he suc-
ceeded, and then he dived through the Hnn
machines and separated them. After that
the Hnns proceeded in groups of four and
five. Meanwhile I had overtaken one of these
groups for the purpose of co-operating with
Ham.
Within a minute or two Ham had spotted
a Hun whom he seemed intent upon bringing
down. I manoeuvred into position, and when
I thought the opportunity was good I took a
burst at the enemy with my machine gun.
The Hun started to drop immediately, and
very soon I had lost sight of him.
Then I picked out another, and went to
work on him. I was above him and took a
dive during which I hoped to put him out of
action with my gun. But as I plimged
300
MEETING THE KING
towards the macMne I found that I had run
into a wasp 's nest ; I noticed that the air was
full of blue streaks made by the explosive
bullets which the Huns used.
I decided that I would have to climb again
and try to take him unaware. I manoeuvred
upward and got a new position, but before I
once more came within fairly good range of
the Hun machine the men in it dropped
all their bombs into the marshes along the
coast.
It was necessary to act quickly if this ma-
chine was not to get away. The bombs had
been dropped for the purpose of making the
aeroplane lighter and enable it to rise more
easily. The bombs had hardly exploded be-
neath us when the Hun machine started up-
ward in a spiral. When I thought the
machine was in proper position for me I
dived under it and took it under fire from
below. I had not spent many rounds of am-
munition when I noticed the rear gunner in
the Hun machine roll to one side; then he
disappeared in the cockpit. At the same time
the machine began to faU. But just then my
gun jammed and before I succeeded in get-
301
THE FLYING FIGHTER
ting it to work again the Hun had managed
to get such a start over me that pursuit was
useless. I was given credit for helping to
bring down one Hun by the commanding
officer of the squadron, as some one else had
fought him at a lower level.
But I had fared much better than a good
many others. One poor little chap who had
taken to the air in a ^'Sopwith pup" had
gotten under the tail of one of the Hun ma-
chines. The man in the German machine got
in his burst first and our poor chap got his
in the head and started to spin earthward;
I watched him until he was out of sight in
the mist. Afterwards I learned that he had
been killed.
But the Huns got their punishment before
they left Allied territory, for the Naval
gang patrolling the coast of France mixed
in with them on their return home and brought
three of them down.
The jamming of my gun had obliged me
to quit the fight early. I made for the
nearest aerodrome in the hope of getting
another chance at the Huns before they
escaped, but the all clear signal came before
302
MEETING THE KING
I got off the ground. As the boys came in
we heard very interesting accounts of the
fight, but Ham was the only man who could
be sure of his Hun. His observer, another
man who was later killed, was slightly
wounded. Ham's airplane had about twenty
hits to my seven.
On the day following the big raid I was sent
to the coast with a machine and returned
early that afternoon. Another plane had to
be taken to an aerodrome. I had gotten to
the level of seven thousand feet, and every-
thing was going along smoothly at a speed
of about one hundred miles an hour, when all
of a sudden the engine burst, and I thought
for a moment I was hit by ''Archie." The
same instant castor oil flew all over me,
and so completely covered my goggles
that I could not see. As I felt about my face
I noticed that something was hanging in front
of me. The next thing I came to understand,
after the first shock was over, was that the
motor was no longer running. My feet had
been forced off the rudder control. I groped
around to find the stick but could not find it
for a few seconds until I had gotten some of
20 303
THE FLYING FIGHTER
the oil out of my eyes. An examination of
the various controls showed that the ma-
chine was totally unmanageable. I was fall-
ing— falling in such a manner that earth and
sky seemed all mixed up. The machine
passed from one loop into another, skidded
sideways, then sailed on its tail for a sec-
ond, righted itself again, and kept plunging
earthward faster with every second. To my
own surprise my presence of mind did not
desert me. One moment I seemed to be sail-
ing towards the sky, while the next left no
doubt at all that I was rushing towards the
ground.
Presently the machine began to swirl
around its own axis while describing the
regular spirals or spins.
I wondered how soon it would be over !
Another moment or two and then the crash
would come.
I have never been much of a praying man,
but then and there I said my little ''Now I
lay me down to sleep. ' '
It was the only thing that came to my mind.
Then the thought occurred to me that I
ought to make another effort to right that
304
MEETING THE KING
machine, but in an instant I had discovered
that it was useless.
Through my mind flashed every experience
I had had, and I remembered how the boys
had asked me what flowers I wanted for my
funeral. I was just wondering what differ-
ence it could make to a man what flowers he
might get when all of a sudden the machine
righted itself and began to sail upon an even
keeL
That fact restored me to normal. It flashed
over my mind that I had just made a glorious
nose dive, and I once more sought the control.
But the stick would not move. As we say
in the service, **It had taken the bone in its
teeth,'' and that being the case there was
nothing I could do to keep the machine
righted. I was heading for the ground at the
rate of about one hundred and twenty miles
an hour, and, strange to say, had now given
up all thought that I would be killed by the
fall. I pictured the surgeons pulling struts
out of my back and connecting rods from my
knees. The thought filled me with a very
peculiar fury. I would not go to another
hospital if I could prevent it, no, not if I
305
THE FLYING FIGHTER
had to break every control in the machine.
The machine was now diving towards some
trees standing by a roadside. I feared that I
would hit the first of them, but the machine
jnst cleared them. Just as it zoomed'' over
the top of the tree the displacement of air
from the plane waved the tree-top, so close
did it pass. I was not far from the ground
now and still going at terrific speed. I would
give those levers another try, I thought. I
tugged away at them with all my might but
not a one of them responded. The machine
hit the ground and a hedge just as I was
straining every muscle at the controls. The
first contact threw me out of the cockpit.
After describing three somersaults I landed
on the ground, striking on my shoulders and
neck. My escape had been truly miraculous,
so much so that I began to feel myself all
over in an effort to find the bones which I
thought were surely broken. I felt no pain,
and so with that I finally concluded that I
was still whole. I lit a cigarette and then
walked over to view the wreck of the ma-
chine.
I saw that it could be written off the lists.
306
MEETING THE KING
I found that a defective tappet rod had
caused the trouble, cutting the coul around
the engine, which revolved at the rate of 1,300
revs, a minute, and that in some manner,
which will never be explained, the propeller
got tangled up with the machine gun and that
the force of this contact strained every part
of the machine to such an extent that it be-
came unmanageable, allowing the engine to
fall back on my knees and push my feet off
the rudder control.
Some people came tearing down the road
in a motor car. One of them was a doctor,
who insisted that I should come over to his
house for an examination. I had convinced
myself that I was still in working order, but
I wanted to reach the headquarters of my
squadron by telephone, and for that reason
I gladly accepted the invitation of the
doctor.
When we arrived at the house I telephoned
to the squadron and then gave myself into
the hands of the doctor, who seemed to be a
very painstaking man. But I will say for his
wife that she had her husband skinned to
death as a doctor. She went into the dining-
307
THE FLYING FIGHTER
room and presently returned with a bottle
of Scotch whiskey, a glass, and some soda.
**I know what he needs more than an3ii:hing
right now," she said, as she ponred me a
drink.
And the lady certainly was right.
I am not a drinking man, bnt after a crash
of that sort there is nothing on earth that
will do a man so much good as a cigarette and
a glass of Scotch and soda.
At about midnight a wrecking lorry and
€rew arrived, and by the first light of dawn
we had the machine aU loaded and on its way
to the repair depot. The commander of my
unit gave me five days' leave of absence
for the purpose of having me regain my
nerve.
The medico of the squadron told me that
I had better go to a place where I would not
see an airplane. To follow his advice, which
I deemed kindly enough, I went to a little
seaside town which has the reputation of be-
ing a very restful place. I had worn uniform
so long now that I was anxious to find out
how it felt to wear civilian clothing again.
I bought myself a suit of flannels, and I did
308
MEETING THE KING
enjoy the change from the eternal khaki very
much.
The little place I went to is like most of
the English coast towns — ^very pretty and
picturesque. Some famous poet lived there
once upon a time and every little landmark
had its history. I stayed in a little inn known
as the Eed Cow, and one of the first things I
did was to go for a swim. I had a good one.
Then I went home and after dinner went to
bed, because soldiers in England are so com-
monplace now that nobody looks at them any
longer. I had a good sleep as a civilian, and
next morning went out for a game of golf.
I know little about that game, but the old
man with whom I was playing was an expert.
To make it interesting for me he gave me a
handicap of seven holes. My partner also
had a very fine line of golf stories and he
could hit a ball so hard that it took two men
to see it fly, one to say, there she goes" and
the other, **here she is."
We had just gotten to the seventh hole and
I was doing finely when I heard a familiar
hum in the air ; on, looking up, I saw an air-
plane just about to land on the golf links.
309
THE FLYING FIGHTER
Its pilot was a student and he had lost his
way. He told me that this was his first solo
trip with a war-type machine. I advised him
to call up his squadron since he had landed
in an awkward place. He was not so sure
that he could get up again.
I took the man to the nearest telephone
and as a reward the commanding officer asked
me to fly the pupil home. I could not very
well refuse, so I got into the machine and flew
the pupil back to the squad. But the com-
manding officer was nice about it. He sent
me back in one of the cars of the squadron,
after we had lunched together.
Upon my return to the hotel I found a
letter from the doctor telling me to be sure
and keep away from airplanes. I wrote back
to him that he would have to find another
place for me, and that it would have to be
entirely out of England so far as I could see.
To keep away from airplanes in little Eng-
land was quite impossible at that time. Two
days later another landed in the sea just off
shore and I had to help fish it out. When the
five days' leave of absence were over I felt
that I had had a change but not a rest.
310
MEETING THE KING
I went back to the squadron and started to
work again. A few days later we were told
to put on onr best uniforms. Tbe King and
Queen and Princess Mary were coming down
to visit the squadron and we were to be pre-
sented to them. Four of us were to fly for
the royal family and I was to be one of them.
The machine I was to fly was one of the
slowest machines, used for training pur-
poses.
As the automobiles of the royal family and
their suite appeared on the aerodrome, we
went up. There was quite a gale blowing
and it took some effort to get around the
aerodrome. The machine I was flying was
heavy and difficult to handle.
Near the aerodrome lies a railroad track
and a freight train was coming down the line.
It occurred to me that itlnight not be amiss
to give the royal family a little exhibition,
and with that in mind I started off on a race
with the train. But the engineer brought off
the honors. He left me behind, much to the
amusement of the royal family.
On landing I was presented to the King,
Queen, and Princess. To my great surprise
311
THE FLYING FIGHTER
the King recognized me again. That a man
-with all the cares he has shonld remember
faces so well impressed me very much. The
King asked me a few questions regarding
flying, and in the course of the conversation
I learned that he knew more about it than I
had expected. The King is an honorary
colonel of the Royal Flying Corps. He im-
pressed me as a very able man, and I was glad
that I had been in his service and had been
given the chance to fight for a country like
England. But for all that I never forgot the
Stars and Stripes. I always carried an
American flag in my baggage. One day a
machine of a very advanced pattern was to
be presented to General Smuts, the noted
South African general. The machine was in
our care, and our aerodrome and its build-
ings had been decorated in regular Fourth
of July fashion. The flags of all the Allies
floated over it except the Stars and Stripes.
Ham and I inquired why this flag had been
omitted, and were told that one large enough
could not be found. We made up our minds
to find an American flag that was large
enough. It took two hours to do it, but by the
312
MEETING THE KING
end of that time we had a flag ten feet long
which we hoisted on the highest pole we could
find on the hangars, much to the amnsement
of the commanding officer and the boys.
The presentation of the airplane to Gen-
eral Smuts developed into quite an event.
The machine was given to the General by
some Government officials, and then it was
christened by one of the ladies present.
Mr. Hucks, one of the old-time pilots, was
instructed to fly the machine, and it behaved
very well. Four of us did some stunt flying
and amused the crowd for an hour or so.
A few days later an escort from our squad-
ron was detailed to go to Hyde Park, where
King George was to hold an open air invest-
iture. About thirty men from various squad-
rons were detailed for the work, which con-
sisted of patrolling at from 5,000 to 15,000
feet. To see the thousands of people crowd-
ing around the large stand that had been
erected for the King was quite a sight.
Among those decorated by the King were
a good many who had been crippled and
maimed for life in the war. I felt great satis-
faction in being able to assist at the cere-
313
THE FLYING FIGHTER
mony, and to see men honored who had sac-
rificed so much in so good a cause.
A few days later I was sent to France with
the last machine I delivered for the British
Government. Five machines, in all, were to
be taken over by this convoy. Mine was a
two-seater, and I had a pupil with me whom
I was to take as far as the coast, from which
point I would be accompanied by an aerial
gunner. The two of us were to fight off the
Huns in case they should attack the flock.
We met no Huns while crossing the Channel,
but learned that they had raided England
again on that very day.
Upon my landing at the squadron in France
I learned that the Huns had done consider-
able damage to the aerodrome. One of their
bombs had killed two equipment officers and
a flight commander, who had been in the very
act of going on leave of absence.
That night I went to B , where I in-
tended staying over night, having missed the
afternoon cross-channel boat. There being
nothing to do after dinner we decided to turn
in, but had scarcely done that when we were
routed out of bed by gun-fire. The Huns
314
MEETING THE KING
were making another raid and were bombing
the city. A couple of bombs fell into the
camp of an ambulance unit and killed a few
men. Another bomb killed a Chinese coolie
and scared a hundred nearly to death. The
Chinese were making off for the timber at an
incredible speed when the Huns sailed away.
It took some time to quiet that rabble.
After a while people came out of their cel-
lars and resumed their occupations, but with-
in two hours another Hun came over and
started the ball rolling once more. The
French Archie'' batteries were quite busy,
and I was standing on the fire escape of the
hotel watching the shrapnel explode, living
over again meanwhile some of the experiences
I have had at the front, when — zip! — crash!
Just across the street from me in the fish
market landed one of the Hun's bombs.
It was a lucky thing that there was no-
body in the market at the time or otherwise
the list of casualties would have been long.
After that the Hun disappeared and we were
bothered no more that night.
There was little to do in our aerodrome
now for a while. Now and then we would
315
THE FLYING FIGHTER
test a macliiiie, but, the weather being very
unfavorable just then and time hanging heavy
upon our hands, many of us were given leave
of absence. The same state of affairs pre-
vailed at the other aerodromes, and a great
deal of time was put in by the pilots visiting
one another. It did us good to see again
familiar faces, and most of the men had very
interesting stories to tell. One of the friends
who called on me at that time was Peter
Gondie, who had joined the first unit to which
I belonged in Canada. Peter had managed
to get into the Eoyal Flying Corps, and one
of his adventures was a fight with six Huns
in which he had been hit by bullets four times
in the knee. Peter and I had served together
in the same unit for some time. He was a
private then and I a staff sergeant. Like my-
self, he had since managed to get a commis-
sion, but was now about to be invalided out
of the service.
Another man whom I met then was Capt.
Foot, commonly known as **Feet," a famous
British flyer, who has brought down many
Huns. I met him in a theater. He was a
very fine fellow. He had a peculiar habit of
316
BOMBING AND FIGHTING PLANE
MEETING THE KING
flying without goggles and without a helmet.^
Shortly after I met him he went back to
France and there added more glory to his
name by mixing it with another gang of
Huns.
I also met Carl Beattie in the course of this
spell of inactivity. I had served with him in
the ranks. He told me that he was waiting
for some other friends of ours, and presently
they showed up. One of them was Scottie
Allen and the other Ballis. The former,
poor chap, had lost his right arm. He
had gotten into a fight with two Huns one day
and had been hit seven times. The worst of
it was that they had gotten him while he
was still an observer; for that reason Scottie
had never known what it was Jto fly a machine
himself. We had all served together in a
Canadian unit.
And we talked of the old times when we
were in the Mechanical Transport Section
in France and breaking our necks to get into
the Eoyal Flying Corps. We laughed over
our efforts to learn wireless telegraphy. We
had made ourselves wireless keys and buzzers
and had taken the batteries of the lorries to
317
THE FLYING FIGHTER
furnish the necessary electricity. We had
also managed to get a copy of the Morse
code, as nsed in France, and after we had
mastered the alphabet we used to amuse
ourselves sending wireless dispatches to one
another. That kind of thing has its value.
"When I joined the Flying Corps I was
actually able to send fifteen words and re-
ceive about ten per minute. "We also re-
minded one another of the days when we
used to stop our lorries near an aero-
drome on the main road to the lines.
None of us ever passed that spot without
stopping long enough to see some flyer go up
or land. We thought of all the silly ques-
tions we had asked and of the funny replies
that had been given us.
During this dull season somebody decided
that we ought to take a course in aircraft
construction at one of the largest plants in
England. It was quite an interesting ex-
perience. Much of the work was done by
women, to release men who were fit for mili-
tary service in France. I was much surprised
at the quality and quantity of the work done
by the women. In addition to stretching the
318
MEETING THE KING
fabric on the planes, they were helping in
the building of frames, and they also put on
the preparation which is used to shrink the
fabric after it is sewed on. Some of them
assisted in making propellers, while others
varnished them.
The women of England have proven in
fact that they can do anything that a man
can do, and it is my opinion that if they were
given a fair chance they would make just as
good fighters. They are employed every-
where. Some of the ammimition works em-
ploy as many as 7,000 of them. They are
nowadays also employed in France as motor
drivers and clerks, and are quite capable of
doing such heavy work as driving lorries.
In machine shops I saw the women handle
lathes and other machines. On the farms
they do the plowing, and I doubt very much
if England could continue the war without
its woman labor. When we arrived at the
factory there was a shortage in materials and
for that reason we could not do very much,
aside from looking over machines that were
ready. Some of my time I devoted to the
study of cloud formations and wind currents.
21 319
CHAPTEE XXI
IN THE CLOUDS
The problem of flying in clouds had always
interested me greatly. There is no accurate
instrument that will tell the flyer what course
he is holding, and often this results in the
man finding himself in dangerous positions
while flying in thick weather. I have been in
clouds so dense that I could not see the wing
tips of my machine. Under such circum-
stances it is impossible for a man to estab-
lish what his position is in relation to the
horizon. He is likely to come out of the
clouds in almost any position. In fact, the
squadron commander, who examined me
as to my mechanical ability when I joined
the service, once came out of a cloud on
his back at a height of 6,000 or 7,000
feet, to find that he had dropped his observer
out. He landed as fast as he could and started
to search for the poor fellow, but the man
320
IN THE CLOUDS
had been killed outright and half buried in
the fall.
The oddest cloud formations may be met
at times. Once I was np above the main
stratum, which was about 3,000 feet thick,
and was broken by holes here and there. I
had climbed through one of these holes to
the top of the cloud, but when finally I came
clear the hole had closed up.
All I could see was a large white cloud that
showed no breaks of any sort. There were
large peaks on this cloud, and with my back
towards the sun I started to fly towards one
of them. As I came close to it, I saw on its
very side the outlines of another airplane.
I had seen no other flyers near me and I
wondered where this one had come from so
suddenly. Before long I noticed that the ma-
chine was coming towards me. I tried to
avoid it, but found that the machine changed
its position accordingly. I was sure that
there would be a smash-up. I tried to get
out of the way of the machine by a sharp
turn, but that idiot of a pilot executed the
same manoeuvre. Then I climbed to get over
him and the other machine did the same. A
321
THE FLYING FIGHTER
i^Uision seemed inevitable. I closed my eyes
and waited for the crash.
But I waited in vain. I had judged the
distance between the two machines accurately,
and after I was convinced that I had passed
the other one I opened my eyes again — just
as my plane was poking its nose into the
cloud peak against whose sides its outlines
had been cast by the sun.
As I rushed through the mist I was not
yet sure that this had really been the case,
so when I had emerged on the farther side I
banked and described a circle around the
peak to find the other machine. But there
was no doubt that the machine I had seen
had been the shadow of my own. I recalled
then that the contour of the other machine
had been framed in an iridescence showing
all the colors of the rainbow. It occurred
to me that it would be well to do it all over
again, and I did. I reached the same position
as before and went once more through the
sensation of a crash in the air.
On another occasion I saw a peak that had
a large archway in it. I made up my mind
to fly through it. The peak seemed quite
322
IN THE CLOUDS
close but I kept on flying without reacliing
the portal. What I had taken for a distance
of only a few hundred yards proved ulti-
mately to be ten miles. But I got to the
archway in the end, and as I rushed through
it the air currents made by the propeller
caused the entire structure to collapse. In
fact, I drew a great deal of it after me, the
vapors following my machine like the tail of
a kite.
Other peaks I tried to hurdle, but gener-
ally I would be deceived in the distance. I
woxdd imagine that I had gone over the peak
only to find that this was not the case and I
would find myself crashing through it. In
other cases it would be still ahead of me, but
once in a while I would come jiown to my
former level close enough to the peak to dive
through it.
Most of the pilots have a great deal of
fun in the clouds, but they also find them very
troublesome. Eain clouds are generally quite
black underneath, and show all sorts of pro-
jections which are visible from the ground.
Within the clouds themselves wind currents of
varying velocity race back and forth. The
323
THE FLYING FIGHTER
bumps on the clouds are generally caused by
the uneven density of the mists, and stand in
direct relation to the wind currents beneath
and within the clouds. The airplane going
through a cloud of that sort may drop from
two to three hundred feet at a time, with-
out the pilot, who sees nothing but his ma-
chine and the vapor -around him, noticing it.
Clouds of that sort have been the cause of a
good many bad spills.
I have often been asked by friends how
one feels when up in the air some five miles.
That is not so easy to explain, for on almost
every trip a man experiences different emo-
tions. It depends largely on the state of
Ms nerves and on his general physical con-
dition. But I may say that the feeling which
of tenest came over me was that I had no busi-
ness in those lofty regions. Not having lived
the life of a saint, I could not help thinking
of the hereafter and of the supernatural pow-
ers that are supposed to govern it ; inciden-
tally I felt convinced that there was a here-
after. At times it did not affect me at
all.
But finally one comes to believe that his life
324
IN THE CLOUDS
is entirely within the hands of the Supreme
Power.
If that Power willed to pnt an end to my
life on earth, it had but to fracture one of
my planes or to demolish some other part of
the machine. I would crash to earth then
within a few minutes and certain death would
be my lot.
There were times when, sailing up in the
eternal blue with the noise of the motor the
only sound to reach my ears — and even that
becomes negligible after a while through con-
stant hearing — I would experience a degree
of lonesomeness that is impossible to clearly
describe. Below me might pulsate a tre-
mendous field of clouds, all gray and white,
and around and above me nothing but the
blue. On the earth it might be raining, but
up there the sun was shining.
Under such circumstances one's life un-
rolled as though it were a supernatural mov-
ing picture. I used to review my past and
find great satisfaction in the thought that I
had never stolen anything nor killed a man in
eivil life. I took it for granted that if an
angel should step out from a cloud and
325
THE FLYING FIGHTER
tell me I had no right up there, he would know
that much about me. But at the same time
I resolved to obey his command immediately
if he should order me to the earth.
Sometimes I would shut the engine off for
the purpose of gliding down. I would then
feel the absolute silence all the more, until
the stays and wires of my machine began to
sing and screech from the pressure while in
a nose dive. With the wires strmnming and
the plane making the sound of a drum when-
ever the machine changed its position the
veriest fraction of an inch, new thoughts
came to me. They brought me back to the
reality of things — the care of the machine.
One never knew when a part of the contriv-
ance, which had stood the strain of the last
dive, might snap. In that case it would be
all over.
Pilots and observers are a rather queer lot
while on the ground. The language they use
is not always of the best, and often they do
things which are not exactly right, although
as a whole they are of the best.
But up in the air it is different. In the
course of time the flyer becomes very super-
326
IN THE CLOUDS
stitious. He comes to believe in the queerest
things. For instance, it is absolutely impos-
sible to induce an aviator to be the third one
to light his cigarette from the same match.
Two or four will do so, but I've never known
a man to have the courage to be the third.
Some of them carry their superstition so far
that they will not be the third man even if
there are four.
They used to tell a little story of a squadron
in France three of whose pilots were stand-
ing on the aerodrome one day waiting to go
up on patrol. The three of them wanted to
smoke, but had only one match between them.
Two of them lighted their cigarettes on that
match. It so happened that the third was a
man who was not so very superstitious,
or else he wanted to smoke very badly. He
requested the privilege of lighting up. The
others did not like that, for, according to
the general belief, it is the third man who
will be overtaken by disaster. In this
case the man was very popular and his
friends did not like to see him do it. But he
insisted and they finally consented. He went
up on patrol and while fighting off a Hun
327
THE FLYING FIGHTER
was shot down behind the German lines.
That story was spread around, and there-
after the superstition was duly heeded
throughout the Royal Flying Corps.
With many of the men, the mascot was
really a fetish. Some of these fetishes were
of a most peculiar character. The animals,
which were kept in the camps, were looked
upon as harbingers of good-luck for the or-
ganization. But each man had his own little
fetish. It was known as the pocket-piece or
mascot. In some cases it might be a dice or a
playing-card. A man who had often drawn
an ace to a full house, flush or a straight, was
bound to look upon aces in the end as the
thing that would bring him good luck. In
other cases it might be a locket, then again a
medal, while many of us carried little woollen
dolls. Even photographs were said to have
the quality which we expected of our fetishes.
One of the men looked upon his pipe as a
fetish, while another cherished a piece of
Chinese jade upon which he counted. An-
other had a knife. Many of the men wore
bracelets on one wrist. In fact, nine-tenths
of the pilots in the Corps possessed some
328
A SQUADRON OF SINGLE-SEATED FIGHTERS
IN THE CLOUDS
queer sort of personal charm or fetish.
Some of the men carried these things only
in their flying clothes, but others grew so
superstitions that they would transfer them
into a pocket of their other clothing; they
refused to be without their pocket-piece at
any time.
I remember walking down the Strand with
a friend of mine one day. We came to a
ladder upon which stood a window cleaner;
inadvertently I walked under it. That friend
called me every name he could think of for
walking under the ladder. And yet he was
the last person in whom I should have thought
to discover any superstition. He was an old
miner and a wild man besides. Later we re-
turned to the aerodrome and I went up for
a flight. I had tried my machine and looked
it over carefully before leaving the ground.
It was all right then.
Before going up my friend had warned
me to be very careful, and I remember that
in the act of gliding to earth I made up my
mind to tell him that he was just a little too
finicky about signs and omens. But on land-
ing I broke my under-carriage and the ma-
329
THE FLYING FIGHTER
chine was smashed up considerably before it
came to a stop. I changed my mind after
that, and carefully avoided walking under
more ladders.
But that is not all. Some of us acquired
the habit of fii3.ding omens in the queer con-
tours of the clouds and the many fantastic
shapes these mist formations wiU assume.
Of course that was going rather far, but some
of these flying boys become very supersti-
tious.
The effect of nerve tension on a flyer who
has lost his nerve may become permanent
as far as flying is concerned. I have known
men who would grow sick at the mere sight of
a machine, and for this reason cease to be of
any value whatsoever. Perhaps in the end
they would come back to their job, and one
would imagine that the man ought to be as
good as ever. But that is not so. The thing
that brings them back to the aerodrome is
often a sense of duty. But the value of the
man has departed; the flyer who loses his
nerve once is lost.
It is my opinion that men so affected have
brooded too long over the fact that in the
330
IN THE CLOUDS
end the flyer is bound to be brought
down.
There is a saying among flyers:
^*If you stick to it long enough you're bound
to get it.''
And the saying is all too true as the cas-
ualty records show.
In the latter part of September, 1917, 1 had
to go to a hospital, being afflicted with bron-
chial asthma. Everything possible was done
to restore me, but I could feel that little good
had come of the treatment I had been under.
I was sent before a board of medical exam-
iners, who recommended that I should be sent
home. * -
I had been in Europe thirty-two months,
and of this time I had spent twenty-two
months in France, and the remainder in Eng-
land, engaged in testing and ferrying work.
And not a few weeks of that time had been
spent in the hospital. Though I had been in
the service for thirty-eight months, I was not
tired of it, and if my health had permitted it
I would have gladly continued.
Upon my arrival in Canada I was examined
331
THE FLYING FIGHTER
again and f onnd to be permanently disabled,
having contracted chronic bronchial asthma,
due to the climatic conditions of France and
England, and the results of my old wounds.
The board ruled that I was unfit for further
service in His Majesty's armies.
While in the service I learned that a man
never knows what he can do until he has to
do it. I look upon my participation in the
European War as the greatest honor that
can be bestowed upon a man.
The army is one of the greatest teachers
of all time. Its lessons may be costly, but
they are of great value.
I cannot praise too highly the work done
by the nurses and doctors in the Allied
service in France and England, and to me
they will always be the Army of Mercy. They
are saviours of humanity.
APPENDIX
JUST FLYING MAN'S TALK
AILERONS. Movable section of the main planes
located at the end and rear of the plane by
which the bank for turning is obtained.
A. M. An air mechanic.
ANEROID. An instrument which registers s^roxi-
mate height and which is set befor§ leaving the
ground.
ARCHIE. Any Hun anti-aircraft battery, which
sends up high explosive shells at inoffensive
British or Allied birdmen, and which generally
shoots too straight.
ARMSTRONG HUT. A hut about two-by-twice in
size made of laths and canvas. The officers are
expected to live in them. They are cold in
winter and wet in summer and are named after
the inventor, but they are about one per cent,
better than a tent.
ART. OBS. Abbreviation for artillery observations.
333
THE FLYING FIGHTER
BELT. A strap made of leather or canvas which the
pilot wears around himself and which is fastened
to the machine to prevent the pilot from falling
when he comes out of clouds on his back or does
some such other stunt.
BUBBLE. A curved spirit-level placed laterally to
the machine, used to denote side slips but
seldom used by experienced flyers.
BUCKED. Proud or pleased.
BUMPS. Air currents which upset the equilibrium of
a machine by tossing it around. They make
the pilot work when they are bad and they are
sometimes dangerous.
BUS. Any flying machine or aeroplane.
CANNBER. The curvature on a plane. It is some-
times applied to a pilot's nose when damaged
after crashing, or after a hot argument.
C. C. A mechanical device by which a machine gun
is timed to the propeller to shoot through its
blades while in motion.
CHOCKS. The only good things pertaining to flying.
They are placed in front of the wheels of a
plane when starting the engine to prevent the
plane from running on the ground while test-,
ing or running up the engine, and they always
stay on the groimd.
CHORD. The width of wings.
CONKED. A new word which is taken from the
Russian language and which means stopped or
killed.
334
APPENDIX
CROCK. Any soldier who is disabled for life through
the European War.
DUD. A term characterizing anything bad or unfa-
vorable, from weather to pilot and observer or
gunner.
EGG BASKET. A tin box arrangement in which
bombs are placed for strafing Hun balloons.
EGGS. Bombs weighing twenty pounds and upward
filled with high explosives and "laid" in Hun-
land.
ELEVATOR. A movable plane fastened to the tail
plane, by which the up and down movements of
a machine are guided, providing the wires are
not shot away by "Archie," in whidi case the
machine comes down nose first and is wrecked.
Some buses have a plane which is counter-
balanced and takes the place of both tail plane
and elevator.
FIN. A small plane placed on edge on the extreme
rear of the fussalage, to which it is fastened.
It is used to offset torque of a propeller or for
added keel surface. The word is sometimes used
in referring to each other's hands.
FLAMING ONIONS. A refined Hun device for bring-
ing down Allied flyers when on low altitude night
reconnaissance or bombing raids. They are
about the size of a football, and, coming in
contact with a plane, set it on fire
FLIP. A flight.
22
335
THE FLYING FIGHTER
FLYING FISH HOOKS. One better than the fire-ball
and used by the same people. They are only
on either end, to catch into the plane and make
sure of burning it up if contact is made.
FLYING O. An O with a half wing attached to it
showing the difference between a pilot and an
observer. It is a brevet which can only be
earned in France and is only worn by observers
who have qualified.
FORCED LANDING. Landing through engine or
other trouble.
FUSSALAGE. The body of a flying machine. When
the birdman wants to tell a man he is going
to hit him in the body, he will say: "I'm going
to stave in your fussalage."
GADGET. The same as hickie.
HANGAR. A shed or structure made of wood, or a
steel frame-work, covered with canvas, used for
housing aeroplanes.
HEINIE. A German flyer.
HICKIE. This word is applicable to anything whose
name you don't remember.
HUN. A student who is learning to fly, called that
on account of the queer things he does. Every
pilot is a Hun until he has received his wings.
JOY STICK. A contrivance by which a machine is
partly controlled. So called because it adds
speed to the machine when pushed forward,
producing joy when the pilot is in a hurry to
get away from "Archie."
APPENDIX
LOG BOOKS. A set of books in which the record
of the flying hours of an engine and machine
are kept for reference.
LONG RECON. A trip of from 20 to 80 miles behind
the Him lines to gather information. Every-
body goes sick when there is one to do, from
"vs^hich he returns if he's lucky.
NOSE. The extreme forward end of any flying
machine.
OBSERVER. From pilot's point of view, human
luggage ballast used to balance and help a
machine while up in the air over the lines.
THE OFFICE. The pilot's cockpit.
PADRE. An army chaplain.
PELOT. The French term for pilot commonly used
in the Fl3dng Corps.
PETERED. Meaning to stop slowly or gradually.
PETOT. An instrument which records air spee*d.
PILOT. From observer's point of view, a chauffeur
for the observer.
POM POM. A small anti-aircraft gun used from the
ground on machines flymg at a low altitude.
PROP OR CLUB. The propeller of a flying machine,
generally fastened to the engine until displaced
by high explosives. One or more are used,
depending upon the type of machine.
A PUP. ^
A DOLPHIN ^^c^i^^s of the Sopwith make which
• I bear some point of resemblance to
A CAMEL. the creature after which they are
A HIPPO. J named.
337
THE FLYING FIGHTER
REV. COUNTER. An instrument which counts the
revolutions of an engine when it is running.
RUDDER. The only movable vertical plane on the
machine. Fastened to the butt end of the fus-
salage and used in turning and correcting
bumps.
RUMPTY. A machine of the Morris Farman type
used in instructional work, called that on ac-
count of its queer movements in the air. It is
sometimes called a longhom on account of the
long skids on the landing-gear and is a sister
type to the shorthorn, which is minus this length
of skids, and flies much faster.
SAUSAGE. A captive balloon which somewhat re-
sembles a sausage in form. It is used by both
sides for observation purposes.
SCARFE MOUNTING. A rotary mounting on which
a machine gun is placed and used by a gunner
or observer. It greatly facilitates the handling
of a gun in the air.
THE SKIPPER. The Squadron Commander in the
Royal Naval Air Service.
SMOKE. A name given to London, England, by
Colonial troops on account of the heavy mist
and smoke-like fogs which cloak it the greater
part of the year. Usually "Big Smoke."
SPAN. The length of wings over all.
SPINNING. A stunt with a machine which consists
of spinning the wings around the axis of the
machine while diving nose first vertically.
APPENDIX
STUNTS. Loops, spins or fancy turns made in the
air.
TAIL PLANE. A section of plane fastened to the rear
of the fussalage which it holds up.
TAIL SKID. A skid made of wood or steel tubing or
spring-steel and which stops the tail of a ma-
chine from resting on the ground when not
flying.
TAKE OFF. The getting off the ground of a machine.
TAXI. To run along the ground on one's own power.
TENDER. A sort of light motor truck used in the
Royal Flying Corps.
THOW. A flying man's abbreviation for thousand.
UNDERCARRIAGE. The landing gear of a flying
machine, same word being sometimes used by
the birdman when referring to the pedal ex-
tremities of either sex.
WAR HOUSE. The place in England from where a
great part of the war is run.
WASSIN BIRD. A French flying machine of the
Voisin type,
WIND UP. A term meaning frightened.
A WOLF. A daredevil pilot who stunts near the
ground. They generally last about a month.
ZOOM. A hurdle into the air—not to be practiced by
beginners.
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