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i
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H«a.3.(.itf,io
HARVARD
COLLEGE
LIBRARY
r
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U%o luf^i^ "hu^. ^AAJ^ i-i^eC',
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LETTERS OF AN
AMERICAN AIRMAN
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LETTERS OF AN
AMERICAN AIRMAN
BEING THE WAR RECORD OF
CAPT. HAMILTON COOUDGE, U.S.A.
1917-1918
BOSTON
PRIVATELY PRINTED
1919
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H ^2,3. (oi^,:io
BirT at ' '^
eiFT OF
f^i^^m^
PRINTED AND BOUND BY
THE PUMPTON PRESS
NORWOOD
MASS
U-S
A
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HAMILTON COOLIDGE
Born in Brookline, September i, 1895.
Entered Groton School, September, 1908.
Senior Prefect, captain of iJie football eleven, and pitcher on the base-
ball nine, 1914-1915.
Graduated from 6roton, June, 19 15.
At Plattsburg training camp. Summer of 19 15.
Entered Harvard (Class of '19), September, 1915.
Vice-president of the Freshman Class.
On the Freshman football and baseball teams.
At Curtiss Aviation School at Bufifalo, Sunmier of 19 16.
'Varsity football squad, 19 16.
Left College after Mid-years, February, 1917.
Enlisted in the Aviation Section of the Signal Corps at Key West,
Fla., March i, 1917.
Assigned to flying school at Miami, Fla.
Graduated in July and sent to first ground school at Massachusetts
Institute of Technology.
Sailed overseas, July 23, 19 17.
In Paris, assigned to special duty in organizing American schools of
aviation, August and Sq>tember.
Commissioned as First Lieutenant, Sq>tember 29, 1917.
Assigned to 3rd American Instruction Centre (Issoudun) and became
tester of planes at Field No. 7.
Assigned to American Detachment, "Aviation Fran^aise, Division
Spad" at Chartres, June 7, 19 18.
Detached from French Aviation and loined the 94th Aero Squadron,
U. S. A., First Pursuit Group, at the front, June 16.
Region of Chateau Thierry, brought down his first enemy plane, a
Rumpler, July 7.
A Bi-place Halberstadt, north of Souilly, October 2.
A Balloon, a Fokker, and a Bi-place L.V.G. in one hour, near
Dun-sur-Meuse, October 3.
A Balloon near Grand Pr6, October 5.
A Fokker, October 8.
A Balloon over Buzancy, October 13.
Promoted to a Captaincy, October 3.
Leading his Flight, he was killed in action near Grand Pr6, brought
down by a direct hit of a German anti-aircraft battery, October
27, 1918.
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Sunday, November lo, 191 8
My dear Mr. Coolidge,
Though I have never met either of you, f want
to tell you and Mrs. Coolidge how awfully sorry
I am for you at this time. I was vnth Ham at
Tech ift the first ground school sqiiadrori and knew
him fairly well. We crossed together and later
shared hotel and pension experiences in Paris.
Subsequently I saw him at odd times in Issoudun.
No need to tell you what an altogether uH)nderful
person we all thought him. He was so easily the
star of our little crowd of ten from Tech — with his
gorgeous wholesome body^ his full round laugh, his
vivid enthiLsiasm, his keen, sensitive enjoyment of
mere living, his kindness and his purity.
Any attempt at consolation would he impertinent.
I want you to know what he knew, however, that
his part in the war was worth a thousand-fold the
sacrifice he made. . . . Those moruhs in France
were packed with an essence of life, a quality of
existence, worth centuries of living, though we reaU
ize it only in retrospect. The incalculably dear
deaths which have come to some of them were the
destiny of all of us — the most glorious that ever fell
[vii]
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to youth — and in all sincerity ^ those oj us who
remain have missed our calling. They are merged
in the greatest spiritual tradition the world has known
since Christ, in the highest and most immortal of all
adventures — and they accepted it with the finest
freest gesture that was ever offered by youth.
I vnsh I could express what I feel about Ham.
I can't. But believe me in this: — He is to be missed
— how poignantly by you I know I cannot realize —
but not regretted. He is above regret.
Faithfully yours.
Walker M. Ellis
Captain, Air Service
[viii]
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LETTERS OF AN
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LETTERS OF AN AMERICAN
AIRMAN
Oyster Bay^ July 22, 191 7
Dearest Mother,
One last, very iloving "au revoir"! WeVe
been staying on, these two days, getting equipped
amid great confusion, so Fve had a chance to see
both the Davisons and these dear people here, —
and you can well imagine that it stirs one's feel-
ings enormously to be in such very patriotic,
very American homes before going. They are
both so intimately connected with the war and
our Government that it does get one into the
spirit of things. Q. sails on the same boat, and
he is a first Lieutenant! I travel steerage (be-
cause the old commission hasn't arrived) with the
contingents from the six Government schools:
Tech., G>rnell, Ohio, iBerkeley, CaL, Texas and
Illinois. I am acting first Sergeant in charge of
them on account of my seniority in the service,
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LETTERS OF AN AMERICAN AIRMAN
and it has been a frightful job getting equipped
and doing all kinds of jobs Fve never been used
to. Our officers are perfect corkers. Fm as
cheerful as can be, and its all so wonderful.
Your loving
H.
Dearest Mother,
Here I am safe and sound in England after a
rather tiresome voyage which had much that was
interesting in it too. It was great to see our
escort arrive out of nowhere it seemed. First,
all we cpuld see were brilliant little flashes of
light on the horizon, and hardly two minutes
later we could make out the forms of the tiny
destroyers, tearing through the sea towards us.
We all felt quite relieved. I wasn't sick! in spite
of two days of quite rough weather.
Your loving son,
H.
On Active Service with the American Expeditionary
Force, Aug. 15, 1917
Dearest Mother,
Here I am in Paris I and herewith is a very
brief outline of the news: shall not fly for many
weeks, as there is enormous organization to be
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LETTERS OF AN AMERICAN AIRMAN
eflFected first. With Douglas Campbell (Tech-
nology) I am to work under Capt. Miller and it
seems now that we are to be in complete charge
of organizing a large new American flying school
here at 1 It will have by Oct., we hope,
thirty-three times as many students as the place
where I went to school!
We understand that our job will be to perfect a
system and get it running, learning to fly on the
side; then we shall be released to go to the front
as squadron commanders. It is a job so over-
whelming and we are so inexperienced that I
can hardly believe it all, but as Maj. Boiling said
today, America cannot possibly be effective at the
front until she has perfected her organization
back of the front. We are the first "aviators"
here apparently, or the only ones available for
such duty, so theyVe given us the job. Please
say only this to people outside the immediate
family: "He is on special duty connected with
the organization of new schools in France." Also,
I must make allowances, since this is the first
weVe heard and things are so apt to change be-
fore they materialize; so if you should hear from
me tomorrow that I am a private washing dishes
at the Caserne Neuilly don't be too surprised I
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LETTERS OF AN AMEMCAM AIRMAN
Of course, we are disappointed at not flying at
once, but we have been asdtired that we will fly
as soon as it is possible. Also it is consoling to
know that this is the thing mjost needed now, and
that I am really being bf more value to my coun-
try this way. All but ten of our crowd went off
to a flying school this mornings We ten will be
divided into groups of two Ot three and assigned
to special duty in different pli^ces under different
officers. It's a job of unHmited possibilities, and
affording a chance for an infinite number of human
qualities with which I am very meagerly equipped,
but weVe just got to rise to the occasion and do
our damnedest!
My French is improving quite fast, but it has
a long way to go! Now I am just able to get
what I need at stores, rest^ailrants, etc., and in-
quire my way about the city.
Paris is wonderful, but so is England from
what we could gather from the train. I was
enormously impressed with the neatness of every-
thing and the charm of the little country farm-
houses, always of brick, and in good repair. The
hedges everywhere were a great surprise.
Your ^
Ham.
[4]
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LETTERS bi? At^ AMERICAN AIRMAN
France \JParts]
Aug. igtb, 1 91 7
Dearest Lu,
Yesterday I had k fine chahcie to see some of
the country when we took a long motor trip to
the scene of our Work. Fve never seen anything
quite so fascinating as the little farmhouses, all
of stone and stucco, along the way. Then, too,
every one of the little towns we passed has a
history, which, in most cases, I know nothing of,
but could feel in the atmosphere. One town I
was particularly impressed with was the home
of the most famous woman in the country's
history.
Perhaps mother told you that for the present
I am not on flying duty but am assigned to work
with one of our officers and a colleague, D. C, on
organization of one of our flying schools here.
The job is almost overwhelming on the face of it,
and particularly so to such green men as we, but
we are the first people here and they simply had
to use us. About ten of us were selected for jobs
of a similar nature; the rest have gone to a French
flying school. Never have I seen so many new
and strange and wonderful things as in the past
two weeks. My job entails considerable travel-
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LETTERS OF AN AMERICAN AIRMAN
ling, usually with officers, and seeing all kinds of
officials, mostly French, Fortunately I haven't
yet been confronted with a situation where I
personally had to interview an important man on
important business in French, but it surely is
bound to come! I wish you could hear me talk-
ing French! I know enough to enquire my way,
and get something to eat (usually not what I
want, though), but conversationally I am a mess!
Hands and eyebrows help enormously, but they
are of no avail over the telephone. Well, you
can just picture me, trying to explain to some
French official a message from my C. O., and
then trying to understand his answer getting all
the little technicalities straight. Mr. R., je suis
tres fllchfe que je ne vous m *appreniez le fran^ais —
(remorseful reminiscence). We have a very busi-
ness-like, luxurious office in the Air Service Head-
quarters, but the office doesn't always make the
man. We had an air raid alarm the other night,
but were too sleepy to get out of bed; also we
later discovered that they never got nearer than
fifty miles or so. Must stop now, with best love
and thanks.
Your affectionate brother,
. Ham.
[6]
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LETTERS OF AN AMERICAN AIRMAN
[_Paris^ Sunday y Sept. 9, 191 7
Dearest Mother,
The week has been quite full of interest. It
started out by the solution of some of our most
difficult questions connected with the new Ameri-
can Flying School. We found sources of both
castor oil and gasoline, and closed contracts for
both at terrible prices, but we had been previously
assured by the French government that it would
be impossible to obtain either here. Other dif-
ficulties are in a fair way of solution too, so we
are quite cheered up. At last our commissions
have been approved by the board here and are
going through the necessary channels involving
communications with Washington.
Friday was an immense day. We motored out
in the afternoon to an enormous aerodrome not
far out, where the French government tests out
their air planes. We saw the hangars which have
been lent to us to house eight airplanes on which
our officers are to fly. I am to be in charge of
the mechanics there and will probably live near
the field, returning frequently to the place, be-
cause it is only half or three quarters of an hour's
ride. I shall have some real flying if all goes well.
After seeing our own hangars we went on a sight
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LETTERS OF AN AMERICAN AIRMAN
seeing tour of the field. On two sides of it were
hangars that extended probably two thirds of a
mile each way. Here and there were airplanes
standing idle, starting up or landing; airplanes
of every type from the tiny Nieuports to the
largest bombing planes. We were all anxious to
see the Nieuports and Spads that are so famous
for their great speed. We hadn't long to wait,
for right near us a pilot clambered into one of the
idle machines and started off. He got off in a
twinkling and pointed his machine right up into
the sky, circling upwards. He soon levelled off,
cut a few circles, and came whizzing down; it
was a sight. The little thing looks like a toy, but
its motor has the roar of a battery of heavy guns.
We went on from hangar to hangar, seeing
things at every step that I never believed existed
this side of the land of Dreams. Outside one
machine after another was taking the air or
alighting. We saw a Spad come by close to the
ground with motor wide open. Honestly it
strained one's eyes to follow it. Well, we had to
leave, but that didn't end my day. I went to
dinner at Aunt Helen's where I met Col. Boiling,
Maj. and Mrs. Scott, our cousin Col. Kean and
a Marquise de something, but not much! Mrs.
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Scott is a dear and has undertaken to be my
godmother when Aunt Helen leaves. It is very
nice of her but she will have to go some to equal
the Aunt and Uncle. It was a great party.
Every Saturday night we dine out somewhere,
just for a change of diet, and then go to the
excellent Cinema de CoIis6e which I think I
have already described. We see mostly good
American films, the Hearst-Pathfe weekly, and
wonderful war pictures showing action in front
line trenches, tanks, and airplanes.
Last week's Hearst-Pathfe showed little patrol
boats in Boston Harbor, — great excitement I
Today I went out to see an injured classmate
at the American Ambulance Hospital. He has
been in ambulance work, and was wounded by a
bomb dropped from the skies.
On the way back I stopped at one of the in-
comparable little patisseries and just gorged on
cakes of all kinds. We all seem to suffer from
hunger. The meals ought to be enough for any
human being, but we must be a set of gourmands,
for we all have to supplement our regular meals
with cakes and sweets.
No letters have come for ages, but it must be
on account of the boats. Anyway, do keep writ-
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LETTERS OF AN AMERICAN AIRMAN
ing, and occasionally send sweet chocolate care-
fully packed, as we surely shall be at some camp
by the time any answers arrive.
Love to allf
Ham.
[Parish Sept. i6, 191 7
Dear Lu,
Last week was a busy one and very interesting,
because it involved daily trips to a huge French
aerodrome where they are testing and develop-
ing the very latest planes. I saw with mine own
two eyes, a tiny machine travelling a hundred and
forty-thriee miles an hour. But it's fierce being
a mere spectator. Q. R. appeared yesterday and
we had a good chance to dine and talk things over
before he had to go back. Our new school is
progressing wonderfully in spite of the awful dif-
ficulty of getting supplies of any nature, and I
think it will be ready on time. Q. has been sup-
ply officer there and was doing great work until
a flaw in his motorcycle frame landed him on one
eye in a ditch. He was perfectly cheerful about
it and seems to take such things as casually as a
successful ridel His eye was practically O.K.
when I saw him. Oh, I forgot to tell you about
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the movies last night. I was sitting there with
Wally Trumbull when they turned on a scene of
the king and queen reviewing U. S. troops at a
camp in England. Suddenly Wally appeared
chatting casually with the king as they emerged
from a Y. M. C. A. tent in which W. had been in-
specting! He nearly fell over when he saw it I
Well, you dear old thing, best luck all around,
and much gratitude from your homesick, good-for-
nothing brother.
Ham.
[Paris] Sunday Sept. 23, 191 7
Dearest Mammy,
I look forward to Sundays particularly because
it gives me a chance to get a broader outlook on
all the tremendous goings-on. All the week long
I am a mere cog in a wheel that represents only
one branch of the preparations of only one coun-
try, so the point of view is obviously narrow. On
Sundays I get hold of all the American papers
and read up the news from every angle; it*s
mighty refreshing to have one whole day in which
to find out what the rest of the world is doing.
Just now Fve been reading with great interest
about the food control in the U. S., the coal sup-
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LETTERS OF AN AMERICAN AIRMAN
ply, the flour prices, the great encampments of
draft armies, the new flying schools, and the
enormous factories that are building airplanes —
and then I compare all this with what I know of
^similar things here.
Take coal, for instance. Only yesterday I saw
a crowd of children and old women following a
coal cart with bags and baskets. Every time the
cart bumped a few lumps would fall into the
street and a scramble ensued for the precious
stuff". Coal is delivered to the houses not in
great trucks as in the U. S., but in little hand
push carts, and then unloaded in little bags.
Only once a week is it possible to get hot water
for a bath or shave. In the country you see
pK)or tottering old women gathering anything in
the form of wood; mere twigs, bushes, an oc-
casional branch or perhaps a board or two — any-
thing that will burn.
Sugar is priceless almost. You do get it for
coff^ee but they bring in one or two lumps on a
plate, or perhaps a basin with a few spoonfuls.
They use it very sparingly in the food. You
buy chocolate for thirty cents a cake, and gateaux
at two or three for a franc.
Most of the meat you don't recognize unless
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LETTERS OF AN AMERICAN AIRMAN
it be veal which seems fairly plentiful, and two
days a week, as you know, are meatless.
People do without some things entirely, of
course, but generally it is just a question of strict
economy and high prices. The other day I saw a
woman grinding coffee in the door of her grocery
shop. The coffee grinder had a little gas engine
to turn it, but still she was grinding by hand.
My curiosity being aroused, I asked her if I
might look at the engine which, she said pathetic-
ally, had not run since her patron had left for the
war. I fussed with it for nearly an hour but
finally discovered that the gas pressure was too
weak to run it and anyway her gas allowance
woiJd probably be insufficient to grind all her
coffee even if the pressure were as strong as it
used to be. In the airplane factories Fve seen,
and even on the grounds, large numbers of women
are working.
In the Transcript for Sept. i, which Fve just
been reading, I saw a column about our huge
flying school here in France. Fve seen every
stage in its development and have had a very
modest share in the work. In the same paper is
an article advocating the manufacture in America,
of enormous airplanes such as the Italians use.
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I doubt if anyone over there realizes how large
or how effective these machines are.
I talked with a man who rode over the Alps in
one for several hours. Then too, I saw over
Paris a machine of much the same pattern driven
by eight hundred horse power engines.
Friday a boy came up with the message that
Maj. wished to see me I I couldn't think
what I was going to get called down for, but
walked bravely in and discovered that said Maj.
was one of our old Longwood friends I One of
the best, too, and I can tell you it was good to
talk things over with him. He gave me much
good advice, and was particularly comforting on
the subject of not flying which was quite a blow
at first. Frank made me feel sorry that Vd ever
peeped about it I
I work with two other boys assisting Capt.
in the organization of the new school. This as-
sistance varies anywhere from doing errands down
town to making out skeleton organization plans,
and lists of all supplies needed. Lately we have
spent much of our time at V where we own
eight planes for the use of the officers. Doug and
I have been ordering tools and arranging for
meals, payment, etc., of the men who stay there
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LETTERS OF AN AMERICAN AIRMAN
in charge of the planes. I have told you, I think,
that these machines are housed on a huge French
testing field where every conceivable form of flying
thing may be seen at almost any hour of the day.
It's interesting seeing them even if I can't fly.
The Aunt called up yesterday noon saying that
an English friend had just sent her some grouse,
and would Doug Campbell and I come to lunch?
Entertainment isn't lacking by a long shot.
Dinners, theatres, movies and long walks have
kept things cheerful at all times. The Freddie
Aliens have a house here, and I've dined there
with Julian and his sister Barbara. Friends
from college are appearing almost every day.
Thursday night Cousin Arthur and Sher and I
went on a whopping party. Every Saturday
night we all go together to the movies — invari-
ably good and usually showing American pictures.
Just after church this morning I met Wally
Trumbull who has just come back from Y
where he witnessed two days of the most terrific
bombarding they have had in that section for
ttvo years! He walked in among the batteries in
action; saw the airplanes directing their fire from
above; looked right down at the trenches from
M Ridge. He talked with men and walking
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LETTERS OF AN AMERICAN AIRMAN
wounded coming out of the trenches and was
continually in the zone of the heavy shell fire
for two days. As he went away in an auto, a
"saucisse" or observation balloon was exploded
above, and he saw the observer come down on
a parachute and land safely in a tree beside the
road. He saw everything and was the most in-
teresting talker you ever heard!
Best love.
Ham.
[ParisJi Sunday, Sept. 30, 191 7
Dearest P. A.,
We leave here perhaps Friday for the new
American Flying School, about which you must
have heard in the Transcript for Sept. i.
It is due to open very soon, and of course in-
volves a lot of work and supervision. Probably
our job will be erecting besson aux hangars. We
shall certainly do it ourselves if we can't get
enough prisoner labor.
I am willing to say that the office has been a
great experience for me, even in the capacity of
office boy. I have had to learn a lot of French in
a short time, and have had a good opportunity to
see and assist in business transactions on a large
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LETTERS OF AN AMERICAN AIRMAN
scale. We expect to encounter many difficulties
and some hardships down there. The mud will
seriously affect our motor transportation and our
fuel will at best be barely sufficient to combat
the cold, damp weather. There are other dif-
ficulties connected with our supplies but I shall
never believe there isn't a way after having seen
the school develop from a mere site to an effective
training school in six weeks or perhaps seven.
I wish you could have been with me at sunset
yesterday, when I saw a huge four-motored,
triplane flying over Paris and back to the field.
I may be a dreamer of dreams, but it took little
imagination to picture just such a craft taking
our whole family, and Lu's whole family to Squam
in less than an hour. May you live to see the day I
I am going out to walk and see some more of
this beautiful city.
Your lovingf
Ham.
^Paris'] France
Oct. 4tb, 191 7
Dearest Mother,
Your good letter came a few days ago, de-
scribing your ubiquitousness, and I may say it
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LETTERS OF AN AMERICAN AIRMAN
sent a shiver through me to think of how you are
going it; why, nothing would cheer me up more
than to have some of your overwhehning work,
for I might as well tell you that my occupations
seem spasmodic and uncertain. Fve just finished
a technical translation that has left me exhausted,
but it's a hard job finished, and there's always a
satisfaction in that. This is one of the last letters
you will get from me here, as early next week we
move down to our new school. It's soon going
to be cold and damp there; there will be little
heat and little water, and we shall live in barracks
or tents, but it is our own school at last, and we
shall be there to see it open and develop into the
world's largest quite rapidly if all goes well.
I wish you could have looked in on us at our
hotel last evening. We had received our dis-
charges from the army and were, for the time
being, civilians. Doug Campbell played the piano
and an Englishman friend whom we have come to
know at meals in the hotel provided two large
bottles of port for the occasion to celebrate the
arrival of our commissions as first lieutenants.
It was a very jolly party, and our host (the Eng-
lishman) was perfectly fine. He has just lost his
only son, but is wonderfully brave and resigned
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LETTERS OF AN AMERICAN AIRMAN
about it, and seemed awfully pleased to be with
boys again. He toasted us as U. S. officers, add-
ing some well chosen words of cordiality, and
we in turn toasted our host and his country.
After the party we eight marched down the
street in military formation, did "by the left
flank" at the corner, and straight into head-
quarters to take the oath of office.
Oct. 5 tb. Eddie Bates and I got up early to
fly at V but found it too windy when we
arrived. You see now that we are officers we
have a right to use the officers' machines at the
big field I have already described just a little
way outside the city.
All of our ten, excepting D. C, E. B. and me
are being sent to to take charge of various
groups of flying students. They wanted us, too,
but Capt. Miller said he wanted to have us stay
with him to help him run the flying school here.
It's the new American one I have mentioned so
often and the location of which you may have
read in American newspapers.
This afternoon I hope to fly if the weather is
good, and so FII have to finish this rambling
letter later
It's a mean rainy afternoon so our flying will
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be once more postponed. Of course, when we
couldn't fly there was an uninterrupted stretch of
perfect weather. Well, we ought to get plenty
down at the new school when that starts. Fve
been splurging right and left buying heavy trou,
underdo, socks, trench boots, and such like, to
be as comfortable as possible in the hard winter
we anticipate at the school. The Government
furnishes great eskimo suits for flying, thank
goodness. I shall miss this wonderful city. There
are so many characteristic things about it that ap-
peal to me enormously: the houses with their
French windows and their balconies, the wonder-
ful broad streets, the huge loaves of bread walk-
ing through the streets as it were, the ancient
painters, carpenters, stone-cutters, street-cleaners,
invariably attired in those striking blue chemise
eff'ects (something characteristically French to
me), the Sunday afternoon walks in the Bois,
similar promenades in the Latin quarter, our
weekly Saturday night "movie" party, and last
and most of all the "open house" of certain near
relatives I
The rain has stopped. With a little luck I
may get a "hop" with the instructor this after-
noon. It will be necessary to go with him a
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while to get used to the stick control or mancbe
d halai as they term it here, and certain inherent
differences between the Nieuport and the old
Curtiss.
Bestest lovCf
H.
[J^aris} Sunday^ Oct. 6(?)
Dear Lu,
You wouldn't know your little brother if you
saw him in the street, — swank uniform, Sam
Brown belt with shoulder strap and brass
trimmings, gold and black hat, coat, and im-
maculate shine on belt and leggings and shoes.
Aunt Helen has been showing me a time; teas,
lunch parties, dinners, and Fve met some nice
people, friends of hers, who all offer standing
invitations, so I ought to be well fixed even after
she has gone.
Last night I went to a French dinner-party.
It was terrific as I sat next the daughter who
speaks not a word of English I Well, I wasn't
going to worry about a thing like that, and so
plugged ahead with a steady line of Franco-
American. I understood most of what she
said but was a little bewildered when she
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said "fetes-vous engagfe?*' "Non," I said, "Pas
encore, mais apr^ la guerre j'essayerai encore"
— puzzled expression on lady's face — and I,
thinking to clear up the situation, explained, "Je
n'avais pas de chance, mais pent etre vous pouvez
me dire comment Faccomplir." — Further ex-
pression of doubt, and I had about decided to
give up when an English-speaking friend told me
that "engage" meant enlisted in the army I I
nearly passed out. Today I lunched at the T*s.,
once of Boston. It has all been good fun but
naturally Tm keen to get down to our school
where we shall get some flying for a change and
live a good old out door life. From now on life
ought to be pretty interesting for a change, as I
never did enthuse over office work. We are
going to help out our C. O. in the administration
of the school, but goodness knows in what par-
ticular way. We are our own censors now, I
believe, but of course in honor bound to say
nothing we couldn't have said before.
Best love, you old dear, and my regards to that
young niece I Will write soon from the school
tout de suite.
Love^
H.
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[^Issoudun] Somewhere in France
Oct. 10, 191 7
Dearest Mammy,
. . • Fve been a very busy man lately as you
may have gathered. First of all our commissions
arrived a week ago, then we had to finish up our
work in the office preparatory to moving down
to the school. ... I went to dinners, lunches,
etc., at a wild rate. . . . Then Monday morning
Doug Campbell and I took the train for here with
a French Capt. P., our head moniteur. He is a
corker and above all he is a sport. Although
dressed in his immaculate uniform: — red trousers,
black coat and gold braid; hat with sides of
robin's egg blue, then 3 gold stripes, and the top
of brilliant red with gold braid adornment there-
upon — in spite of this wonderful uniform he
doesn't mind splashing around in the rain or
mud, and is ready for whatever comes. Well,
we arrived at the American Flying School, Mon-
day P.M. Seven weeks ago it was a mere site.
I could hardly believe my eyes at what has been
accomplished. There are many finished barracks,
storehouses, garages, Y. M. C. A. hospital, and
rows of great bessoneau hangars; but in addi-
tion there is an enormous amount of construction
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work going on. When finished it will be the larg-
est school of its kind. We are going to start fly-
ing Monday morning as we already have enough
airplanes, gas, oil, supplies, and living accomo-
dations to handle the available students. Each
month we shall take an increasing number of
students as our equipment expands. It is a
wonderful sight to see the activity on all sides.
Little railways and steam trains hauling supplies
to the field; still smaller track and push cars to
supplement these. Here and there great piles
of lumber, terra cotta, gasoline barrels, bath tubs,
and again an occasional large piece of machinery
still uncrated. Everywhere motor trucks are
bustling with loads of rock for the roads, or loads
of supplies from X . There are swarms of
German prisoners at work all over the great field;
there are jabbering little Frenchmen, and the
regular enlisted Americans.
{^IssouduTi] Oct. 10, 191 7
Dear Lu,
I am sitting in my room, or cubicle I should
call it, at the American School of Aviation, some-
where in France I Douglas Campbell and I came
down with our moniteur — a French captain
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and a real sport. By now both Doug and I are
pretty fluent at the French, so we get on well
with him. When we got here it was drizzling
steadily as it has been for days and the slimy mud
is something fierce. You never saw such a sight
as is this place. For miles in any direction you
care to look are barracks, storehouses, garages,
mess shacks, great piles of lumber, barrels of
gasoline, rows of hangars, young railways, trucks,
tractors, steam rollers, motorcycles — well it's
endless. Of course it isn't nearly finished yet,
but we are starting the school at once on a pro-
visional scale with a smaller number of students.
When completed it will be the largest in the world.
We live in long barracks that are partitioned off'
into cubicles for all the world like a Groton — or
rather a Merryweather dormitory. Neither Doug
nor I had brought cots, so we set to at 4 p.m. and
built ourselves beds. We made the frames with-
out trouble but the question was what to cover
them with. There was no canvas so my covering
was boards — on which I have slept two nights.
Doug found a bed somewhere so he's fixed. Q. is
getting me some heavy canvas in town today,
likewise some denim or chintz or whatever the
name of the stuff* is — of which one makes cur-
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tains. I built a desk yesterday, my wash basin
is being installed now, so by tonight I should be
very well fixed. I look out on the sunny side, on
a great endless plain, with a little wood oflF to
the right. Then there is one of those typically
French roads running across it, with rows of trees
on each side; each tree being exactly the same
size as its neighbor and all trees at exactly equal
intervals. You never saw such plains. It's like
looking out to sea on a calm day. Our brother
officers seem like a nice lot, though there are
very few Fve ever known before. Q. Roosevelt
has been here for weeks as Supply Officer and has
done very good work. Tve been walking miles
trying to see a little of the place. The hangars
themselves are nearly half a mile away. It
certainly is wonderful what has been accomplished
here in seven short weeks; there was nothing
but a site here at that time. The weather I am
extremely doubtful about. It has rained every
day, or rather part of every day for a week, and
when it rains the sliminess of the clay mud under
foot is unequaled by any thing I ever saw before.
The wind, too, blows hard at times, so I fear that
during the winter we won't do too much flying,
though we shall snatch every second of good
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weather. Our machines are all French ones rang-
ing from the tubby two seaters to the tiny single
seater avion de cbasse. All students here will
be men who have learned to fly in the States.
We shall have, later on, separate classes for
Chasse, Bombing, and G)rps d'arm^e, a com-
prehensive term which includes artillery observa-
tion, infantry liaison and the like.
It is great getting into camp life again. In
two short days I feel like a new man. Paris is a
beautiful city and I love it, but me for a good
rough life every time. Also we have American
food here, and very good. I shall write soon
again, dear Lu, and you know how good it is to
get your letters.
Love^
Ham.
[^Issoudun} France, Oct. 13^6, 191 7
Dear Dickie,
If there isn't much news to tell you, an over-
powering feeling of gratitude provides an ample
topic for this letter. The gratitude was evoked by
a good letter from you and a box of superlative
cigars which arrived the day after I got to camp,
where such articles are unobtainable and provide
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many hours of comfortable satisfaction to the
lucky possessor (and a very few to some of his
most intimate friends I). Lu will have told you
about our camp here and how perfectly great it
is to get back to a good healthy outdoor life, with
good food.
I haven't had a stroke of work to do this week,
as I don't figure until flying starts day after to-
morrow. It has rained every one of the five days
Fve been here and for three days preceding that,
so when we walk we wade. Out from the bar-
racks a little way it isn't half so bad, as there is
fairly solid turf under foot. This afternoon I
had an amusing walk out over the boundless, un-
fenced fields in the company of an aged rustic I
picked up on his way home. We discussed the
prevailing weather conditions and the objects of
scenic interest we passed, including quantities of
whopping big jack-rabbits. The little country
towns such as the one I saw this p.m. are the most
picturesque I have ever seen. All the farm build-
ings are made of stone, and the tiled roofs often
overgrown with moss. They looked as if they had
been there since the beginning of time.
All our buildings are electric lighted, but the
steam heat was overlooked. No, they have wood
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Stoves at the two ends and one in the middle.
My room doesn't happen to be near one.
Will write soon when things begin to happen.
Best love.
Ham.
[^Issoudun] France
Sunday 9 Oct. 14, 191 7
Dear P. A.,
By way of news this Sunday I have little to
tell, so Fm writing for the pleasure of it. Mother
will have told you that I am down at the American
Aviation School leading a very healthy, cheerful
life, and waiting for tomorrow morning for flying
to start. As I see it we start with a rather in-
definite scheme of organization as it seems to me.
I cannot see just how far they are going to carry
the military. It is impossible to run the school,
or any flying school on a strictly military basis
with any degree of efficiency from an aeronautical
point of view. For instance, it would be absurd
to say that inspection will be held Saturday morn-
ings at ten o'clock, because that might be the
only good flying weather that day, yet it would
be unmilitary not to do it that way, as I see it.
Then I foresee inevitable difficulties between the
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military and flying administrations. Our com-
manding officer, though he has never had ex-
perience in this line, anticipates no difficulties, and
I guess he expects things to work themselves out
in practice. We start on a small scale, gradually
enlarging as our equipment permits, and expect to
be running full force in three months. Our
machines are rebuilt French ones, but look quite
fit.
Did I tell you how strongly I was impressed by
American resourcefulness and ability when I
arrived at the school — the first real chance of
forming any opinion. The officers are almost all
U. S. Reserve aviators, commissioned for flying
rather than executive ability; nevertheless they
haye handled the construction work here with a
rapidity and persistency characteristic of ex-
perienced men. The American soldiers are re-
markable. In spite of almost endless thunder
showers, consequent mud underfoot, and frequent
lack of equipment, they work cheerfully and fast.
I haven't heard a complaining word in the six
days Tve been here. They keep their trucks
running under the meanest road conditions; they
work hard on the construction work, and are
back on the job the minute a shower lets up;
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they can't talk German, but never hesitate to
take a gang of prisoners and put them on any
job they see fit; they are resourceful. Given a
small forge and a few tools, they will make al-
most anything they need. A Frenchman would,
I feel, hold up his hands under similar circum-
stances. The French, of whom we have only a
few here, are the most sincerely amiable people
IVe seen. There is something inexpressibly at-
tractive in them all from country peasant to high
military official. Yet they are easy going and
slow workers. Our mechanics in the French
motor factories were much impressed by the
beautifully finished work they found, but were
disgusted at the laziness and inefficiency. In one
factory our mechanics got in wrong with all the
workmen because they assembled a motor in less
than half the time in which the French did it.
Groups of our mechanics are working this way in
all the big French plane and engine factories to
learn all about the French product.
They say that the English are finding it difficult
to combat the large three-man German air raider,
due to the fact that it is so armed as to have no
"blind angles,*' and its speed is almost as great
as that of the tiny pursuit machines. At any
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rate, it will be very interesting to see what comes
from the States- We hear great things about a
new "Liberty Motor** just developed there.
With best love Jrom your affectionate
H.
[^Issoudun] France
Sunday, Oct. 21, 191 7
Dearest Mother,
I am a very busy man, so I shall try to write
often, but must be more brief. The present
situation is thusly: Fine weather, flying to our
heart's content from 6 till 10 a.m. and 2.30 till
5 P.M. The rest of the time we do the many
little jobs required to keep things going smoothly
and prepare for the crowd we expect soon. I am
chief of the "Penguins" (P. A. will interpret the
term), but most of my clipped-wing birds have
not yet arrived. I have passed successfully
through three stages of flying and tomorrow, if
all goes well, will try my luck on an "avion de
chasse*' such as Norman Prince and Victor
Chapman used. As you progress through the
six difl'erent stages the machines become smaller,
more powerful, and faster. They didn't make me
go on the penguins myself, so Tve really passed in
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four of the stages. No smashes so far, but I
have a habit of breaking those dam elastic shock
absorbers; one went this afternoon just before I
started oflF and it nearly made me veer into a
hangar, but I just got her off the ground in time.
I shot my first partridge the other day, and
presented it to our Major with compliments of
"Beginner's Luck."
I have had no letters for about ten days, but
they usually come in bunches so I hope for a lot
soon.
Best love,
H.
France, Sunday, Oct. 28
Dearest of Mothers,
My news must be condensed this week, for Tm
a busy man for once. To begin with I have had
no mail for ages; but they say that all mail ships
are being held up for repairs, so that is probably
the reason, anyway I hope and pray that all goes
well at home. As for me I never felt better and
having a lot of work to do is a welcome change.
To begin with I started my rouleur class with
a new bunch of students and have been carrying
on every minute of good weather. It is probably
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the most amusing job in the school. The rouleurs
go a frightful speed, can't quite fly, and are very
difficult for a beginner to control. Often a man
starts out, swings right around, and comes roar-
ing back at us with his machine completely out
of control. He hits a bump, the propeller breaks
with a crash and over he goes doing no little
damage to the rouleur^ but for some inexplicable
reason he never gets hurt himself. It is expensive
instruction for Uncle Sam, but once a pupil can
guide a rouleur down the field and back in a
straight line, he has mastered one of the most
important parts of flying without ever leaving the
ground.
Friday I went on a single seat scout machine
or avion de cbasse. I never in all my life ex-
perienced such sensations. The scout is entirely
diff'erent from other planes, being very small,
highly powered, fast, and painfully delicate on
the controls. At first I found myself wallowing
all over the lot because I was not used to being
so gentle I Soon things improved; — just a little
pressure with one foot or the other on the rudder-
bar, a gentle touch to one side or the other with
the mancbe d balai, a little more gas and less
air or vice versa; and that does the trick. My
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landings were a little awkward at first and I
bumped pretty hard. After I got the thing tamed
a little I began to appreciate what a wonderful
little craft it is. You have enormous reserve
power, can climb abnost straight up, and it an-
swers the slightest touch on the controls, in fact it
seems almost to respond to your will without any
physical exertion on your part.
Saturday I was put in command of a squadron
of over a hundred and fifty men, but the squad-
rons are shortly to be reorganized under a new
administration, so the job is probably temporary.
I never had such a job, as my squadron was com-
pletely demoralized and their quarters and mess
shacks looked like pig pens. I was told to get
them in hand and clean out the whole place. We
have been working like dogs and the men have
accomplished wonders in two short days. It
breaks my heart to think that the squadron will
be split up just as we are beginning to get some
system and spirit — mais c'est la guerre. The
C. O. of the whole camp, who gave me the job,
is being relieved by another man, my boss at the
last place, so I know not what to expect. The
few days of it have been a great experience; and
I hope more may follow along the same lines.
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I have to censor quantities of squadron mail
now, so goodbye with best love to all.
Your Ham.
{^Issoudun} France^ Oct. 29, 191 7
Dear Lu,
Fm frightfully, almost painfully, busy just now
trying to hold down two jobs in addition to flying*
Consequently Fve been forced to slow up on
letters. One of my jobs is being Moniteur des
Rouleurs^ or grass cutting aeroplanes that don't
quite fly; the other is being temporary C. O. of
a squadron of over a hundred and fifty men until
a certain reorganization goes into eff'ect. This
morning I was on the rouleur field from 6 till 11. 30
— and all that sort of hard luck stuff, but in spite
of it I feel like a king and am very happy to be at
last practicing on a tiny speed scout. Haven't
smashed yet myself for a wonder, but I wish you
could attend my rouleur class some morning and
see the little machines strewn around the field,
some with broken wheels and tires, and others,
having suffered a capotage, in this position —
sticking up like church spires in a desert.
The Red Cross has opened an efficient lunch-
counter in the Y. M. C. A., which adds materially
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to the luxury of life. I am very adept, however,
on a little gasoline lamp-stove effect I have pri-
marily for heating shaving water, but also for
making cocoa, scrambling e^s, etc. Also you
ought to see me bring down partridges with a
second hand shotgun I bought — and as for eat-
ing same, well, I simply can't keep a straight face
when it occurs to me in the middle of the process
that I am a poor soldier-aviator undergoing the
hardships of war; but the thought of getting up
at 3.30 A.M. in the dampest, most penetrating
cold I ever felt, to inspect the guard, somewhat
offsets this luxury and eases my conscience.
Nearly every evening I have to censor a great
stack of squadron mail; I feel like a bum reading
other people's letters that way, but knowing it's
a case of necessity I can easily enjoy some of the
choice lines one finds. Nearly four out of every
five begin: — My Dearest little Girl — and go
on in that strain! I tell you I am learning lots
in that line, and perhaps will be able to prove
something one of these days — though the mails
are very unsatisfactory! Speaking of mail, I
haven't had a letter for over two weeks.
I haven't told you anything about the doings
in these few pages, but it would take a book.
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You can see though how things are: Acres of
ground just littered with great piles of lumber,
and supplies of every description. Our own
branch railway bringing in carloads of everything.
Many buildings of all kinds already up and going;
others in process of speedy construction. Half a
mile away you see row after row of great canvas
hangars. In the air above nearly all day long
the buzzing of airplanes from the humming little
scquts to the heavy roar of the biplane machines.
Everywhere is hustle, activity, (and loads of mud I).
Bunches of new students arrive every day and
have to be arranged for. Men in any squadron
caught loafing on guard: — court martial for
them; why didn't Smith report to Jones at 3 p.m.
etc., etc. You know the feeling when you come
in ten minutes before mealtime and wonder how
you can last out, and at night speculate whether
you'll bother to brush your teeth; and the fact
that your bunk is hard and your mattress is a
layer of newspapers to keep out the cold, never
so much as enters your head. Well, it's a great
life and things happen so fast you can't keep track
of them. I'll save the rest for another time and
turn it off now with best love from
Your affectionate brother. Ham.
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[_Issoudun] Sunday y Nov. 4
Dear Lu,
Fm hopelessly busy these days. Am"C. O. of
a squadron here and you can imagine what a job
it is. Censoring their mail alone takes over two
hours every other day. Then I have to $tudy
Army Regulations all my spare time. This place
has suddenly expanded to the most overwhelming
proportions; it is becoming very military! Flying
is temporarily suspended to get organization and
construction in hand. We are on the go every
minute and Sundays are exactly the same as every
other day. When things get working smoothly
the strain will be greatly relaxed, but just now it
is fierce. I can't tell you a thing about it. Feel-
ing fine and enjoying work. Flying the scout is
great and it is the most interesting thing in the
world to talk to these old pilots from the front —
some from Lafayette Escadrille know P. C. and
others. C. T. got a Boche the other day.
Will write a letter when I get time to catch my
breath I
Love,
Ham.
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[^Issoudun] Nov. 8, 191 7
Dearest of Mothers,
I hope you haven't given me up for lost, be-
cause I am far from it. The great trouble is
that for over a week I haven't had two minutes
I could call my own, and unfortunately the pro-
visions of censorship which officers are in honor
bound to obey, forbid details of the whys and
wherefores of this condition. Roughly however
we have been undergoing a complete reorganiza-
tion to adjust the place for the crowds of men who
have been swarming in here. In my own case my
demoralized company is rapidly shaping up. By
a fearful fight I got new barracks for them, with
real floors and good stoves — a brand new place
they could respect and take pride in. Due to
certain circumstances, however, this company re-
quires practically my whole time, which is a little
disconcerting. Yesterday Quentin Roosevelt was
attached to my company and he being the Senior
Lieutenant, becomes the C. O. (commanding of-
ficer) of the company. I am now his assistant —
but it really is more than a one-man job. Also we
always have gotten on well together, which helps.
You ought to see my latest investment. It's
an officer's bedding roll consisting of an outside
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canvas cover and a blanket bag with two extra
blankets within. The blankets are made of that
wonderful Jaeger wool or cameFs hair or what-
ever it is. When the roll is done up the following
articles are inside: — a folding cot, a folding arm-
chair, a folding bucket, a bath tub (rubber) and a
flashlight with extra batteries. It is a great old
piece of equipment and just the thing for the front.
In the present state of affairs it is impossible to
tell what will become of an individual. Per-
sonally if certain things occur as they very likely
will, I have a possibility, I think, of getting to
the front this winter. On the other hand if I
get tied up in the administration, goodness knows
when I shall get there.
This place seems swamped but gradually things
are bound to get straightened out. Oh, I forgot
to tell you about the last day of flying. I left
my Rouleur class about four and arrived at the
cbasse field just before an inspecting committee
of distinguished Frenchmen. I nearly had a fit
as I climbed in because my rouleurs had kept
me so busy I hadn't been able to practice for
several days. All the others had stopped flying.
Once off the ground I sat back and laughed, but
then came the exhibition landings in a circle. I
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dove the machine at a frightful pace and levelled
off just right and made a star landing! The next
one wasn't quite so good, and the third was after
returning to the hangars. The castor oil was so
thick on windshield and goggles that I could
hardly see and I never came so near crashing be-
fore. Thank heaven the old French commission
didn't see that one.
The Red Cross ladies are running a fine little
lunch room here, where you can get hot toast,
coffee, jam, fresh butter and such delicacies at
any hour — a blessing to mankind. I can't talk
about the things that are on my mind; they deal
mostly with things that may delay my flying or
hamper it, and are nothing to worry about. As
for health I seldom have time to even think about
it, but it occasionally does occur to me that I never
felt better in my life. . . . Must go to lunch now
dear Mummy and close with bestest love,
H.
Pj T [_Issoudun\y France^ Nov. 9
The rain it rainetb every day^
The mud is two Jeet rfeep.
We plough through it at work or play.
And see it in our sleep.
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Whoever called this ** sunny France"
(IJ I could have my way)
On red'bot coals mould have to dance,
After bis earthly stay.
The morn is always chill and drear.
And noon-day much the same.
But now oj course we're really here.
And mighty glad we came!
— Written for the occasion by H. C. (unas-
sisted!). It takes a good deal to stir your brother's
soul to poetic expression, but in this case the in-
spiration is ample. Honestly, I wish you could
see it I and the mud is so slippery that you lose a
few feet for every one you gain. It used to be
a full morning's exercise making your way over
to the mess shack for breakfast. It really is
wonderful how cheerful everybody keeps, and how
hard the men work. Perhaps I told you that Q.
and I had a company together. Well, you ought
to see them. They move into new barracks with-
out any bunks; after lunch they go to it and by
supper-time the bunks are finished, neatly lined
against the wail, and the place is all swept out.
No place to cook or eat? — it doesn't phase them.
One of them locates some lumber and tools and
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in half a day a new mess hall appears. You give
a mere suggestion and when you come back later
you find them tinkering away. They have two
large barrels on a platform outside for a water
tank, they wink as they show you a perfectly good
kitchen hot water tank they "found somewhere";
you ask no questions! They repair a broken stove
from the junk-pile, put a coil of pipe in it, connect
it up to the tank and home-made shower, and the
job is done. It really is wonderful how resource-
ful the Americans are. The French can't under-
stand it at all, but nevertheless they get on
wonderfully together.
Flying seems to be a thing of the past. Due
to the weather and certain other conditions (shI)
we haven't flown for over a week, and goodness
knows how we shall have time to anyway, judg-
ing by our present duties. My particular com-
pany requires my whole time, because, due to a
most unfortunate circumstance, they can do none
of the work around camp, and have to be kept
busy all day. Q. has just been ordered to ,
so the command falls to me again, worse luck.
In flying time I drive a little Nieuport. Com-
pared to the planes I was used to in America it
goes like a bullet, but it is out of date as a fighting
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plane. Fortunately ft is no harder to drive a
Spad; at least they say so. The accounts of the
"acrobacy" we have to leam send the shivers
down my spine; everything goes well if you act
exactly according to instructions, but a false move
in some cases would "cause you to lose a wing**
because the speed is so great. It would be dis-
concerting to lose a wing. I have a sneaking
suspicion I can get away with it though, because
I have always felt at home in a machine.
Tomorrow I understand we are not going to
work. It will be the first Sunday here that we
haven't worked, but I must admit it hasn't done
me any harm. Lu, do keep those swell letters of
yours coming. You surely do write the best
letters that ever were.
Bkssings to you, Dickie, and the kiddies,
H.
[_I$soudun] France
Nov. i6, 1917
Dearest P. A.,
The last batch of mail was a rich one indeed
for me. A large box containing some fine cigars,
candies, crackers, socks and a can oj beans, ar-
rived too. Someone with a kind heart and a
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sense of humor sent that; are you guilty? I am
awfully pleased because it's a fact that you can-
not get such things here and they are just the
kind of thing I most appreciate. Whoever made
those socks did an excellent job, and socks such
as those I can use all the time in the mud and wet.
You spoke of my not coming in the door after
G. had arrived. Well, I often do, only no one
sees me! I can picture every detail of the little
house and the big family, and it often seems hard
to realize that a great ocean divides us. Anyway,
there is a lot of comfort in being close in spirit,
at least.
You gave me some hints about what kind of
things to put in my letters. Thanks a lot; it's
often very difficult to pick out the details that are
of most interest to others. Bessonaux hangars
are merely portable French canvas hangars with
wooden framework. As for my companions: —
Did you meet D. C. at Tech? He is one of my
best friends, and of course Q. R. whom I have
already mentioned. Lt. Q. R., H. C. and two
other Lts. (names withheld) run a school com-
pany under somewhat peculiar circumstances.
The experience is, no doubt, valuable, but there
are many experts who will tell you that a flyer
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should have to fly and do nothing else. As it is
flying is incidental. In fact — no, better not.
The actual flying is as interesting as it can pos-
sibly be. As you know, I am in a class on the
avions de cbdsse — the smallest and fastest type,
which is quite satisfactory to your H., only he
hopes soon to go where he can fly on a more
modern version of the same thing and go much
faster! Yesterday we tried some vol de groupe
work which is difficult at first but very amusing.
Two of us followed a leader so close we could see
his every gesture when he signalled back. We
practise in diff'erent ways all the time. For in-
stance, as we walk up to a machine on the ground
we say to ourselves — "eighty-five yards" —
then pace it off* to see how close we guessed. It
is essential to be able to judge your opponent's
distance in combat. Then, every time we glide
down from any considerable height we pick out
some farmhouse or other distant object and sight
on it as if we were shooting at it. The aiming is
done by turning the whole machine as is the case
in real fighting with monoplace planes. It is
very difficult to keep your sight steadily on the
objective; it means moving the hand a little on
the stick, a slight pressure on one toe, then the
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Other perhaps, and so on. But then you can
notice the improvement before long. A man must
be a good shot even above being a clever pilot.
As usual I am in the best of health and cheer-
ful as regards myself. There is something, how-
ever, that troubles me a good deal at times and of
which I dare not speak. I quote a sign that you
see in all the Paris subway stations in the hopes
that it will give you an indication of what I mean.
TAISEZ-VOUS
MfPIEZ-VOUS
LES OREILLES ENNEMIES VOUS ^COUTENt!
It's possible that I suffer from hallucinations, but
I don't think so.
With love to you and all,
Your affectionate
P. S. "•
I should very much like the " Pageant of English
Poetry," which seems to me an unusually good col-
lection of verse.
[^Issoudun] November 24, 191 7
Dearest Mother,
This letter ought to reach you about Christmas
time so here are my wishes for a Merry Christmas
and Happy New Year.
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Mummy, it's hard not being at home at this
time of year, because Christmas has always been
the biggest family occasion. It was the one time
of year when we were all together and we saw
more of Grandma and Grandpa, M , when she
was alive (and what a wonderful Christmas
spirit she inspired in us all!), the Uncles, Aunts,
and Cousins, — than in all the rest of the year.
So anyway just think of me as doing everything
with you — buying presents and making E do
them up for me, the Cricbe on Christmas Eve,
and then the happy family party on Christmas
Day, and attending King's Chapel en masse to
feel ourselves even more closely together and
realize perhaps a little better the meaning of
Christmas. It's just the perversity of fate that
we are not all together this year, but the spirit
of Christmas will be as strong as ever and have
a more important influence than ever before —
that of giving us strength for our new and un-
accustomed tasks which the war has laid on our
shoulders. This Christmas will be a happy one
for us all, because we are able to do our bit in
the great struggle, and for you, dear mother, is
the satisfaction of contributing to the cause far
more than "just your share," not in gold it's true
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but in human beings, ten of them — strong and
healthy, with hearts set upon doing their best in
the way in which he or she is best fitted, and all
working together in a spirit of unity and family
loyalty which nothing can destroy or lessen.
Here's a big toast to you and all, probably in
bad French wine, but hearty none the less.
Your loving soUf
H.
[^Issoudun] November 23, 191 7
Dearest P. A.,
The purpose of this letter is primarily to wish
you a Merry Christmas, and tell you how I wish
I could be with all the family as usual. It can't
be done so I shall make the best of things as they
come. What I should like to do on Christmas
would be to clbnb about fifteen thousand feet
and just imagine I am at home. At that height
it's so lonely you can imagine yourself anywhere
without any distractions to destroy the illusion.
I've only been up 13,000 ft. so far.
More and more men keep pouring in and one is
constantly meeting old friends. Most of mine are
men from the first, second, and third ground
school classes at Tech. Leighton Brewer, who
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was in my class at Groton and then went to Yale,
is here as a cadet, and Robert Stiles of Fitchburg,
a friend at Buffalo in the summer of 1916, ap-
peared yesterday. Our plans are undefined, but
we (meaning the first scout class) shall probably
graduate in the course of two months or so, and
then — ?
Your loving
Ham.
American School of Aviation Headquarters
December i, 1917
Dear Lu,
I have just been away for a week on one of the
most amusing trips I ever made. Six of us were
supposed to start out together, fly 'cross country
to T ,* and return the same afternoon if the
weather was good. Owing to little delays, how-
ever, none of us did start together, so it was a
case of each man for himself. T is about a
hundred miles away, so there were all sorts of
possibilities connected with the trip. Needless to
say, I got totally lost ten minutes after the start;
none of the features on the ground corresponded
to anything my little map showed. That did not
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worry me much because I knew the direction of
T , and I had the setting sun as a guide. Well,
I wandered for nearly two hours that way with-
out seeing any signs of the place, and my gas
was ahnost gone when I finally did see a good-
sized city ahead. As I drew near it became ob-
vious that it was not T . In fact, there was a
building on the outskirts of the city, with the
name A * in huge letters on the roof. I landed
in a large field beside the building which turned
out to be a former airplane hangar. A great
crowd assembled in about a minute, and with the
help of my excellent French! I got them to push
the machine into the hangar. I then gorgeously
paid my respects to the colonel in command of
the French post in whose grounds I had landed.
He sent two sentinels to guard the machine, and
told me that there was an American Base Hos-
pital in the city. There I was well treated by
the officers all of whom came from the University
of Pittsburg, and were nice men.
During the next two days the weather was so
bad that it was impossible to fly, so I went all
over the town with a navy lieut. We saw the
wonderful mediaeval castle, built by the duke of
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Anjou in the 13th century. There were two
beautiful cathedrals, too, and a subterranean pas-
sage connected one of them with the castle. An-
other less agreeable occupation was trying to buy
enough castor oil at chemist shops to fill up the
tank of my machine. The druggists thought I
surely must be a little off in the upper story, and
I had the weirdest collection of medicine bottles
of all shapes and sizes. They didn't half fill my
tank, either, and thereby hangs quite a sad tale!
The next day, Thanksgiving, was cloudy, but
a telephone message from the flying school at
T informed me that it was possible to fly.
I was tired waiting for good weather, so I decided
to make a try for T . The colonel and other
dignitaries came out to see me ofi', not to mention
a crowd of soldiers, women, children, and the in-
evitable dogs. Five minutes after the start my
motor began to cough alarmingly, but I was able
to turn back and make the field all right before
the old thing died. The trouble, broken spark
plug wire, was easy to fix, and I would have
thought nothing more of the incident as I gaily
started out again, had it not been for the realiza-
tion that I had used up ten minutes* worth of
precious castor oil which had not advanced me a
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foot nearer T . That was soon forgotten in
the effort to dodge the troublesome clouds which
hung low over the river. Forty, forty^five, fifty
minutes passed, and still no signs of T .
Then I suddenly recognized something that con-
vinced me that I was at last just outside of my
destination. But here the perversity of Fate got
the better of the situation. A solid wall of fog
lay ahead, making a plunge into the unknown be-
yond a risky matter at best. At just that mo-
ment I happened to glance at my oil gauge, and
it was empty! To leave the motor running would
ruin it under those circumstances; there was
nothing to do but come down. I desperately
looked for an open field, chose the only one that
didn^t seem to be surrounded with hedges, and
came sailing down in a way that the little Nieu-
port has of coming down, — pretty average fast.
The field was small, but I had apparently judged
my glide well, and would come to rest before
hitting the vineyard at the other end. I cut my
switch and was all set to settle neatly on the
ground, when bing! the tip of my right wing hit
a tiny sapling I hadn't noticed, and I made three
whirlwind gyrations amid a sickening crackle of
framework. When I came to rest, the remains of
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my poor machine were in a perpendicular position,
with your young brother, unscathed, still strapped
to the seat. I never even had time to get scared
till after it was all over, and then there wasn't
any point. In spite of the painful thought of
completely demolishing my faithful little plane,
I couldn't help smiling at the ridiculous sight I
presented sitting in the midst of the wreckage as
people came flying from every direction, expecting,
as I gathered from their conversation, to shovel
my remains into a dump-cart. I see now the
mistake I made in not falling on the ground, and
at least putting up a bluff' of being hurt, because
they thought they had seen a real accident, and
seemed a little disappointed at not being able to
run for doctors and an ambulance.
While I was changing my sheep-lined shoes for
walking shoes a boy came up, and asked me in
broken English if I wouldn't come to his "castle"
for lunch. He was followed a moment later by
his father, the Comte de Beaumont(!), as he in-
troduced himself. It was in his back yard that
I had crashed, and one of his most promising
young cherry trees that I had ruined, but he as-
sured me that it mattered not at all, and that if
it did live it would be an historic tree. I took
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one good look at it as we passed, and decided that
whereas some of the ground around it might be
pretty well hallowed, that tree was not destined
to be historic. We dined sumptuously in the
chateau, but I couldn't help thinking a little rue-
fully of the Thanksgiving dinner I might have
had at the flying field four miles away if it had
not been for such poor luck.
After lunch, while waiting for the wrecking
crew, we wandered back to the machine, which
we found surrounded by a crowd of children who
were highly amused at the whole thing, and yelled
with delight when I picked up one small boy in
wooden shoes, and put him in the seat to work
the controls. After that nothing would do but
let each boy in the whole crowd get in, one after
another. They really seemed quite excited about
it, the cunning kids. The wreckers finally ar-
rived, decided that it was too late to do anything
that day (it was four o'clock), and took me back
to T after I had parted with the count and
young Jean with most affectionate farewells. At
the school I found several old friends, among
them Seth Low, whom I knew at school. I
promptly suggested that I thought it would be a
swell idea if he took me back to I the next
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morning in his bi-motor Caudron. He said he
would, weather permitting! You see he knows
many of the officers here, and rather welcomed
the excuse, such as it was, to get away from T
and see his friends here. In the morning the
weather didn't permit, so I had a chance to look
over the whole school, and see some different
machines from those we have here. The remains
of my machine came in just before lunch, so I
went to shed a last tear upon them, and cut out
the red, white, and blue target as an everlasting
memorial of my first crash. Arrangements were
made to send it back by rail.
After lunch S. decided to start, although the
clouds still hung low in a solid ceiling. The
mechanics brought out the big Caudron, and
tested the motors while we got in, Seth in the
pilot's seat behind, and I in the observer's cock-
pit in front of him between the two motors. It
wasn't a minute after taking off before we were
completely surrounded by clouds, but Seth just
pointed the nose up, and opened the motors wide.
Suddenly we came out into another world, with
an endless expanse of fluffy white carpet just be-
low us, and a clear blue sky with a bright sun
above. We flew on with our wheels ahnost
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touching the solid white cloud-bank. It gave one
the queerest mixture of sensations, because we
were forging steadily ahead like a fast steamer,
yet at the same time we appeared to be on a vast
snow field. We flew on by compass for nearly an
hour, guided by occasional glimpses of the earth
through rifts in the cloud bank. When we judged
that we must be near the camp, we dropped
blindly through the clouds for a minute, and came
out of them right over the field, on which we
landed as lightly as a feather. My first voyage
was at an end!
Lu, I must confess that two days have elapsed
since the foregoing part of this atrociously written
letter; but one is mighty busy here in the day-
time, and last evening we had a very impromptu
concert, during which a section of the stove-pipe
in the officer*s sitting-room fell down, and ab-
solutely ruined one of the newly arrived lieu-
tenants. He was covered with about two inches
of soot, and I am still weak from laughing. Life
grows more interesting every day, as we learn
more of the wild things you can do with an air-
plane. Acrobacy used to be considered an occu-
pation for fools and suicides, now it is an essential
part of the training of a war pilot, and naturally
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it is satisfying to have a justification for doing
stunts. Some day I shall describe some of the
stunts to you, but will spare you this time. One
thing I cannot realize is that by the time you get
this letter Christmas will have passed. We even
lose track of the days of the week here, because
Sundays and weekdays are just alike. We fly
whenever the weather is good no matter what day
of the week it is. We hear the rumor that in-
numerable sacks of mail have arrived in P .
That certainly is great news, for none of us have
received any November mail yet, and if I don't
get one of those good fat letters from you or D.,
I shall feel pretty low.
Good-night, L., it's supper thne. Give my
best to Dickie and the kids.
Your affectionate brother^ Ham.
[^Issoudun] Dec. lo, 191 7
Dearest Mother,
The last haul was a big one — some twelve
letters in all. Douglas Campbell brought them
over while we were patiently waiting at the
acrobatic field for an airplane that never ap-
peared, so I had a pretty satisfactory occupation
during the wait.
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Fm safely through my acrobatics and quite
cheerful on that account, because I must confess
that I had moments of doubt beforehand whether
my mind would continue to function normally
when I was upside down in mid-air and dropping
like a stone. For some strange reason it did work
all right, in fact it really came ahnost as a matter
of course to do stunts because I have always
loved flying and anything connected with it. It
really lends considerable excitement to your first
acrobatic attempts to be told beforehand that if
you forgot and did the wrong thing at the wrong
time the strain would probably be too great for
the wings, which would promptly collapse. Any-
way it made one quite careful to rehearse the
motions before going up for the stunt. The acro-
batics are all tactics used in battle; and things for
mere show, such as the loop, are left out.
The real blow is that they want men for the
front, and as I was the second man to graduate
it would be logical for me to go, but they think I
am needed here to be in charge of one of the de-
partments, so here I stay for a while at least.
There are five other officers in the same predica-
ment, and we rave about it every time we meet,
but it does no good. Administration jobs are
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all right, but when they keep you in a swivel
chair away from the action they are rotten. D. C.
puts it aptly when he says, " I would rather be a
private flying at the front, than a Major in an
office chair in Paris," and I must admit I agree
with him, though one must reah'ze that this is a
war where one*s personal preferences should be
laid aside at the start.
It just occurs to me, Mammy, that I last
wrote you from the American Hospital at ,
where I waited patiently for good weather on my
'cross-country trip, after having lost myself in the
early stages of the flight. I wrote L. a detailed
account of the sad return trip, but the only vitally
important fact is that my motor went en panne
just outside the city, where landing places were
all bad, and in the process of trying to slip into a
very small field at high speed my wing tip caught
on a tiny tree which sent me end over end! The
poor plane suffered almost total destruction, losing
all four wings in the m^/^e, but your son was not
so much as scratched. They say in France that
God protects fools, drunkards, and Americans.
It must surely be true! Flying seems to become
more and more easy, natural, and delightful as
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one gains in experience (even of the kind just
mentioned).
It seems next to impossible to finish a letter at
one sitting now, because we have been enjoying
the unprecedented phenomenon of an unbroken
stretch of perject weather, in this usually rainy
time of year. The ground is always frozen in
the mornings, but thaws out about noon, bring-
ing on the inevitable mud which breaks the
propellers of the airplanes (it flies off* the wheels
as the machines start along the ground) and gives
you permanent wet feet, cold, bronchitis, pneu-
monia, etc. What a life!
Good night dear Mammy, ,
Your loving H.
France f Dec. 26, 191 7
Dearest Mother,
All I could do yesterday was to dope out the
time when each happening was going on at
home, and it gave me great thrills to figure
out that "now the family must be just finishing
breakfast, and starting in to open presents." I
had a great Christmas here, but in spirit I spent
the entire day at #10 W. H. P., Boston, Mass.,
U.S.A.!
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Fve just moved in to a new room that has a
tiny stove therein. Well, at 6 o'clock I got up
and worked until the stove fairly glowed red all
over. Then the room got nice and warm about
eight. D. C. had put all our presents out on a
table, so we had a glorious time sitting there in
our pajamas opening them. We spent the day
resting up and fixing up our room. One package
arrived today, but aside from that the others ar-
rived before Christmas. I am very grateful for
all these things, and hope soon to be able to write
letters to each giver. It was such fun having
real Christmas packages to open, done up in
white paper and red ribbon I
As for life in general, Mammy, it goes along
quite well, everything considered. Of course the
eternal question is "when will they send us to the
front?" There seems to be nothing to do but
forget it, because if one listened to all the rumors
around here it would seriously incapacitate one's
brain. I was given a job as officer of a certain
new field when that field would be in operation
but today some of the men higher up went over
and took a good look at it and promptly decided
"nothing doing'*; it was altogether too rough. So
now I officially go on the testing work (IVe been
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doing it unofficially for some time). It is quite
exciting because you never know what a brand
new plane will do, or an old one just from the re-
pair shop.
Q. is now away in a part of the country where
the weather is very warm and pleasant. He got
a slight touch of pneumonia when I got my grippe.
Of my other companions I don't say much; it
isn't quite according to form, and you know very
few of them indeed. A few friends from Miami
and Tech and one other Grottie, S. L., are all I
knew before. It's amusing to realize that you
know where I am by the postmark! Only don't
address letters here!
Best love,
H.
France, December 27
Dear Roger,
Your dandy little flashlight came safely and I
am very grateful for it. My room is about five
minutes' walk away from where we eat, and you
nearly break your neck tumbling over things on
your way up each night, so your flashlight with
extra battery solves the problem perfectly.
I am one of the testers now and it is a great
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job. We have to try out and adjust all the new
planes after they have been put together, and all
the old smashed ones that have been fixed. I
often give the mechanics a ride when testing a
two-seater; they seem to enjoy it a lot. Many
of our machines are single seaters and very fast.
They are the most fun, but of course one has to
be more careful with them. Doing acrobatics is
swell fun, but there is one thing that is even more
fun. That is to get in a good reliable plane and
fly all over the country just five or ten feet above
the ground. You chase autos, and farmers are
scared stiff" sometimes, but you always go up
just before you get to them. Then there are
enormous flocks of crows and other peeps, and
it is more fun to fly right through these flocks,
scaring the birds and sometimes hitting them
with your wires or wings. Sometimes, too, your
motor breaks down and then it is not so much
fun. One night I had to leave my machine way
out in a field and walk home in the dark. That
was punk.
Your letters have been coming in regularly of
late, and you are a good kid brother 1 Do keep
on writing, because every word you say reminds
me of the dear old school and cheers me up
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(even to hear of your troubles 1), because some
day you will look back at them and laugh
over them.
Your affectionate hrotbery
Ham.
Jan. 6, 1918
Mother Dear,
For nearly three weeks Fve been right up
against it in the testing department and have not
even been able to finish all my thank notes. It
really has been a pretty hard pull because we had
an uninterrupted spell of perfect weather and my
department had to turn out machines as fast as
it could to satisfy the clamors of the multitudes.
Added to those troubles it soon developed that I
was responsible not only for testing the machines,
but for the organization and administration of
the department. Well Fve been doing it, but
the strain has become too great and my flying has
fallen off" badly. I could not get five minutes off",
and on Sundays had to referee football games if
the weather was too bad to fly 1 So you see your
poor son is a tired man, though not discouraged.
One disappointment was hard to bear. Several of
my friends were able to go with a squadron des-
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tined very shortly for the front, but though I
raised a kick to go, they said that they would
have to keep me here to test, as no one else had
had any experience in that linel
Things are beginning to cheer up though. To-
day is the first rainy day in a montby so it gives us
a chance to get our breath a little, also they have
at last given me a cadet to take charge of all the
administration of the department so that all I will
have to do is to test the machines as fast as they
can be brought out. The other tester is a tem-
peramental Frenchman, but a little dear. I have
to spend much time as a diplomat between the
French mechanics and the Americans. They
don't get on at alll The French are very
jealous of their work and are only getting one
twentietb the pay that the U. S. gives their
mechanics, so that is one cause of feeling. Our
government makes no provision for paying or
clothing the former, poor men, so I occasion-
ally give them socks, shoes and cigarettes to
keep them happy.
Douglas Campbell, my roommate and friend,
has just gone to the squadron I spoke of before in
this letter. Seth Low has done the same, so I
feel lonely. Darn it, I only took up testing as
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an interesting experience while I was waiting for
another job which never materialized. You un-
derstand my work is fascinating, but it is keeping
me from the front. On the next good day there
will be ten or twelve fast little planes to test out.
I look forward to a lot of fun. We take a plane
up to try it every way, see if it balances right, see
if we can let go of the controls, and do acrobatics
with certain types. On coming down you tell
the mechanics just how it acts and what changes
in adjustment to make; then try again. Some-
times as many as six or eight test flights are
necessary before the plane is fit to turn out.
Often motors go bad or the machine is balky,
that is why you should have plenty of sleep
and not have other things on your mind; also
some of them go a hundred and twenty miles
an hour and are delightfully sensitive, but you
simply must have a clear head to handle them
properly.
[^Issoudun] January 7, 191 8
Lu, You Angel,
I haven't even uttered a murmur in your di-
rection for weeks, but it isn't because I haven't
wanted to, you can rest assured of that.
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Ever since Christinas and even before, Fve been
on the go every minute, because until today we
have had an uninterrupted spell of clear, cold
weather with 3 in. of snow on the ground. I
walked into this testing job without ever dream-
ing that the chief tester would leave soon after
and fall sick in Paris, leaving one Frenchman and
myself to test all the machines that were assem-
bled or repaired. It has been fun at times, but
the worries of trying to keep the machines coming
through, of bossing stupid mechanics, and of
stopping scraps between the French and American
mechanics, took all the joy out of life. Also you
couldn^t tell when they might send you up in a
plane with a bolt missing, etc. Now it is raining
like mad — no flying, and a chance to rest up,
write a few of the innumerable letters I owe, and
at last get a man to take care of the organization
and routine work, leaving us free to test and not
have to worry about a hundred other little de-
tails of the work.
But Lu, I never realized how I was getting in-
volved when I walked into this job. Several of
my best friends have gone — you know where —
and I have had to stay because there "was no
one else who had had any experience testing.*'
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GoIIy it makes me wild, but I think soon I shall
be able to get away and if not actually join my
friends, get in a close second.
Your aff. brother. Ham.
France, Sunday , Jan. 13, 19 18
Dear P. A.,
I have just received three more S. S. P. pack-
ages which I attribute to my family, as they are
unmarked and contain articles which are typical
of your good judgment and affection I
This morning I and my roommate, T. E. P.
Rice got up at nine o'clock and cooked breakfast
over our little coal stove. We had coffee, fish-
balls, scrambled eggs, toast, deviled chicken,
dates and butter — (much of which came from
the boxes) and yet we are at warl The week-
days are a different story as indeed are many of
the Sundays. For well over a month the snow
has remained and the weather has been clear and
cold. I average about fifteen to twenty test
flights on every good day and each machine re-
quires 3 to 8 tests with adjustments between each
before we O. K. it for the "field." I love my
work more than anything I ever did before, but
it leaves me no time off and I am very tired at
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night. The experience of flying so much and so
often on different types of planes will surely stand
me in good stead some day, and what a keen eye
I have developed for defects I I trust no man,
but inspect every machine myself, and some of
the things Fve found made my hair stand on end.
It won't be long now before I go to the front, I
think; here's hoping it comes soon.
You ask what I do in spells of bad weather
— there don't seem to be any. I can't say much
about the kind of men here. The men in my par-
ticular dept. are a French tester of two years' ex-
perience at the front, and a perfect corker; several
expert French mechanics, and many Americans,
keen, quick to learn, but of little experience, and
sometimes careless. I hop on them hard for that;
it does not go in aviation. The aspects of the
town which postmarks my letters are typical of
old French towns. It is interesting historically
and the houses are of an architectural school
which no one will ever discover. Picturesqueness
rather than symmetry or comfort is the keynote.
I have, been there possibly four times since I've
been here, to take in my laundry.
The reading I do is insignificant. I read with
great pleasure Dostoyevski's "Poor People" when
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I was sick; but have had no time to read any-
thing but poetry (Shakespeare) and occasionally
the Bible since then. There are no prospects of
study and the prospects of kave do not exist. In
ten months of army life I have never had a day's
leave of absence and certain reasons make it im-
possible to expect any for a long time to come.
Even if these reasons were removed I could not
leave my job. I am very short on uniforms but
rumor has it that the Aviation uniform will
shortly change.
Once more I revert to the boxes which have
brought me so much pleasure and satisfaction,
and all of which to the best of my knowledge and
belief have arrived. The family letters are like
bubbling springs to the weary traveller; they
really are my best recreation. Thank goodness,
the work is the thing I love most; otherwise the
continued persistent effort of trying to turn out
machines which are safe, sound and true — as
fast as possible — without leave and with very
few days off, — would be too much after a while.
I suppose the same thing applies at home where
you are all slaving under pressure that would be
hard indeed to endure were it not for persistence
and the inspiration of the cause.
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They apparently need me here, but I hope to
have my position filled before long by some of
those who would be willing enough to take it for
a while, as I feel that I have served my turn at
this school and should be allowed to go where
some of my best friends now are taking the long
chance in the service of the country.
With love,
H.
Sunday, January 20
Dearest Mother,
Another good week has passed without incident
of particular note, though a few years back any
day of my present career would have seemed
monumental. As a matter of fact it often seems
like a dream; one feels very tired at night and
sees accidents that put a more human aspect on
it all, but the actual flying seems hardly possible.
This morning I woke up and was just turning
over to go to sleep again when the roar of motors
at my hangars made me wonder whether it could
be Sunday. But there they were, the machines
all out on the line ready to fly, so I hustled on
up and got to work. I never have seen such
rough weather, several times the belt was all that
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kept me from being pitched out. We stuck to
it all morning, but found out later that someone
had made a mistake and we were not supposed
to work I So now I am very tired from flying
in such bumpy air and the mechanics are skun
out of half a day's rest. It is a great experience,
testing, and my partner, a dear little Frenchman
of two years* experience at the front, has taught
me many things about flying. We have sort of
a rivalry, naturally, over the work, and each day
I compare our results on the side. I generally
make more flights, spend more time in the air,
and work longer hours, but he invariably O. K.s
the largest number of planes each day. He can
feel all the defects of a machine in a five minute
flight, where it usually takes me ten.
One of my friends from school in Quent's and
my class arrived here a few days ago from the
front where he has been serving with the French
army for five and a half months in Guynemer's
famous squadron I Well you can just bet that I
opened my ears when he told us in the most casual
and unconceited way of his experiences over the
lines in his Spad. He has two Boches to his
credit already. Guynemer, he says, was a thin
little Frenchman, almost effeminate in his ways,
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and totally unimpressive until he got into his
aeroplane. "His whole expression changed, and
he seemed like an entirely different man," he told
us. Guynemer was not a very spectacular pilot,
but had a keen scent for the Boches. He could
spot them further away than anyone else, con-
sequently he usually caught them by surprise,
and he was a sure shot. Well it all thrills me and
gives me an idea of the excitement of air fighting.
Also my friend "Chink," as he was called at
school, tipped me off on a few manoevres to prac-
tice while testing; it*s very convenient to kill two
birds with one stone.
Your loving
Ham.
Sunday^ January 26
Dearest Mother,
Another beautiful Sunday morning, and the
good part about it this time is that it was so foggy
all yesterday that no one could fly. Two good
days* rest will fix me up perfectly. Today Tat
Rice and I are going to walk to a little town
about four or five miles away to have lunch in a
most attractive country inn there. Except for
these little parties I haven't been out of this
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camp since October 8, My leave of absence
comes due on or about the 15th of February, and
I think I shall take it unless they cannot get on
without me, because a change would really be
pleasant and I would come back all set for any
amount of work.
We have just been having a visit from a maga-
zine writer who is going the rounds of our flying
camp. When he arrived at our testing dept. my
companion M. D was just coming to land
and zig-zagging from right to left to land as
slowly as possible. It takes the utmost skill to
do that properly, and only years of flying make it
possible; any aviation expert would have opened
his eyes in surprise, but our magazine writing
friend merely exclaimed, "Look at that French-
man; he can^t decide which way to turnl Are
all the French pilots like that?** Well, in a few
weeks we shall probably see articles in our maga-
zines saying how much better the American pilots
are than the French, etc. They oughtn't to let
boneheads like that write articles by which Ameri-
cans at home will get such false impressions. And
yet if he dwells on the remarkable development
of the camp he would do well. I can hardly
realize it, having been here all along, yet it is a
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fact that in a few months this school has grown
from nothing to one of the very largest in the
world!
About the letter I wrote quite a while ago on
"worry/* let me say that the cause of my worry
will never again worry me and that two of his
co-workers will not cause much more worry
either. There was something unmistakable about
it all. Nothing that you could lay your hand on,
but one's intuition fairly screamed out the truth
within one.
Again I have had the annoying experience of
breaking down away from camp. This time my
gas tank went dry, but luckily over good country
where I made a safe landing; but I had to walk
home two miles in flying do. The mechanic dug
ditches all yesterday as a punishment for his
carelessness. In the ah: one constantly must be
on the watch for other planes buzzing endlessly
round and round their respective fields. Well
twice in the past week I have been caught nap-
ping by pilot friends of fighting experience who
attacked me from above as in actual battle. We
had five or ten minutes of the most exciting mimic
combat I ever knew, each of us performing every
known evolution in an endeavor to get "on the
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Other man's tail" where a few shots from a mir
railleuse would do the trick in real life. Needless
to say I was shot many times overl
Best lov€f
Ham-
{^Issoudun} France
Feb. 4, 1918
Dearest Mother,
I have no time, no place to write, but loads
to say. The main news of myself is that they
decided I had learned enough of testing to do it
independently; so they sent me over to one of
our outlying fields to take charge of all planes
and mechanics. The machines are in awjul con-
dition, the mechanics all green as grass, but will-
ing enough. I should be discouraged about the
change were it not for the fact that I know there
is a very real need here which can be filled only
by some one with experience in testing, and it
should be some one with much more than I have,
but such is lacking at present. Q. is here, as are
Cord Meyer and George Turnure — old friends.
I must stop for now but will come again very soon.
Lore,
H.
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{^Paris'] France, Feb. 8, 191 8
Dearest Mother,
I am once more writing from my original sta-
tion where not so long ago my Aunt Helen and
Uncle John lived. Up here to get new aeroplanes
and fly back in them, but the weather has kindly
been very bad for two days, so here I stay living
in luxury at the Hotel Crillon with a comfortable
bed and real hot bath. Fm living just as com-
fortably these few days as I know how, because
I needed it — just beginning to feel a touch of
nerves at the school — this will fix me up Fm
sure.
Well, Mummy, I got on the train for here with
a big handful of unopened letters from my family.
It was a great treat and I continually have qualms
at not writing more often, but I feel almost shaky
in the evenings quite often and very tired always.
Sundays I try to devote largely to family and
generally succeed.
Here Fve been rushing around doing a thousand
errands for self and others, spending untold
moneys on clothes (chiefly) which Fve needed for
months, and generally enjoying life. Cousin
Arthur Hill I saw at Prunier*s for just two minutes
the other evening, but I shall try to get hold of
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him this evening for dinner. I have been dining
with friends, some leaving for the Front at once,
others of more recent acquaintance. One, a
Capt. Bowie Evans of the English Rifle Brigade,
I met only the other day. We had dinner to-
gether last night and my opinion of the typical
English officer has changed ioo% for the better.
I couldn't understand them because I hadn't
known them, but this man gave me some very
diff*erent ideas. He has been fighting in the
trenches for over two years and is very tired, but
wonderfully persistent and brave about it all.
This afternoon I shall call on Miss Grace Harper,
if the weather does not clear up in time to fly
home today. Great news about Joe and I hope
to goodness they send him near my station, so we
might get together. Fd give just about $1000 in
cold cash to see a father or mother or brother or
sister nowl
Lovingly ever,
Your Ham.
[^Issoudun] Sunday, Feb. lotb
Dear Lu,
Fve just spent four glorious days at my "former
station." Sent up there to get new machines and
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fly back, but the weather was bad so we bad to
stayl It was just long enough to have a glorious
time without getting tired of it. Then Saturday
was a fine day and our flight down here was
most satisfactory (except that I took the cushion
out of my seat before starting in order to keep
down out of the wind, and it got very hard after
two and a half hours* ridel). I knew the way
like a book this time, (the result of careful study),
but also had a good map for occasional reference.
Here I am back and at this outlying field where
Quent is practically my only old friend, and where
the planes are perfect lurecks, having had no one
to oversee their care. My job is consulting
surgeon, so to speak, and I test all the cases that
are bad and need to be changed.
The only thing that really upsets me is that
I have it on good authority that they intend to
keep me on this kind of work for several months
to come — as if anyone else couldn't do it after
a little instruction from that French tester. It's
not so much fun flying these junks as it was the
new ones at my last job, but it is much needed,
so here goes. Good night, you old dear.
Best love.
Ham.
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Sunday, Feb. lo
Dearest P. A.,
Quentin R. has just given me the " Pageant of
English Poetry/' which delights my heart- I read
Dostoiewski, when convalescing, with good in-
terest, but have not had time for the others which
are at present being enjoyed by a Red X lady
to whom I lent them not long ago. The family
letters are about the best reading matter I could
possibly want and I do hope that you will all be
able to keep writing as frequently as of late. I
shall do my best on this score too. One thing I
need never worry about is lack of subject matter.
I can't quite understand why I should be expected
to see Joe. To my mind it would be a mere stroke
of good fortune if it so happened. I shall, how-
ever, make every effort to get in touch with him
by mail.
Let me tell you of my last week, for it was an
exceptionally interesting and enjoyable one. On
Tuesday evening a telephone message came for
me to leave for the big city next morning at
5:45 A.M., there to locate X airplanes, have them
moved to certain hangars and in every way pre-
pare for flight. When they were ready I should
telephone down for the required number of pilots.
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Wednesday I spent in looking after the planes and
getting them ready. Next morning some of the
pilots arrived, but the weather was very bad, as
was Friday likewise. During those two days I
shopped busily, doing countless errands and buy-
ing some much needed clothes and shoes for my-
self. Seth Low, George Tumure and I had tea
with Mr. Sherrard Billings on Friday and found
him enthusiastic over the prospect of his work.
I called on Mrs. Theodore Roosevelt, Jr., who was
out. I saw Hobey Baker, Charlie Reed, Jim Miller,
Stuart Wing and other friends, all there for one
purpose or another, but not on leave, as that city
is banned for men on leave now.
I should add that during these two days I
bought, pasted together and industriously studied
the maps of our homeward journey in order to
avoid a repetition of my first experience in cross-
country flying 1
Saturday morning was fine and clear, though
it had clouded over considerably by the time we
had the machines under way. I started out first
and circled over the field for half an hour waiting
for the others, and finally in disgust started out
alone. The wind was directly against us, so we
agreed to descend at E to get our tanks filled
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up and to have lunch. The others arrived soon
after I had landed, except that two of them had
trouble at the start, which kept them back. At
two o'clock we started out in groups of three, and
we landed safe and sound here at four within a
few minutes of each other. Here let me state
with great self-satisfaction that I had estimated
the distance in miles of each town en route and
the time it should take to pass over each one.
And my calculations proved very nearly correct.
I am at last taking a real interest in maps! It's
quite necessary.
I revert again to the city, for I find I forgot to
mention the recent raid of which you will have
doubtless read. I saw where one bomb had
squarely hit a house and demolished the upper
two stories. At that rate it would take a powerful
lot of bombs to do any real damage. I also saw
the top of a lamp-post knocked over by the poor
pilot who landed in the Place de la Concorde! On
all the deep subway stations are illuminated
Abri signs, and in the papers you read of ad-
vertisements of firms willing to install concrete
abris in your cellar for a consideration. All the
works of art which might be in danger are being
carefully protected by sandbags held in place by
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wooden staging. The people are furious about it
(the raid).
Home again I find Eddie Bates cheerful and
playing cards, Quentin busy writing letters.
The other boys whom you know are no longer
here. I find a lot of work awaiting me in the
shape of planes to be tested and many others to
have diagnoses passed upon them. I am a sort
of consulting airplane surgeon at the outlying
field. It really seems pretty hard that a job
which I walked into of my own accord nearly
two months ago should now hold me here almost
indefinitely. In fact, they tell me there is no
chance of my going to the Front for four or five
months. They seem to think I have a sensitive
touch or something that not everybody else does
have, but I call it merely an interest to have more
than a merely superficial knowledge of the planes
we are to use in battle. Being by nature sus-
picious, I seem to have an eye for little details
such as missing bolts, cotter pins, warped wings,
etc. It really is pretty hard that I should be
held back when my ambition is to scrap and any-
one who takes an interest in airplanes can, I think,
pick up what little I know in a short time. Men
I mean who have not been here since Oct. 8 and
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who therefore are due to serve their turn at some
kind of school work. I guess the best way to look
at it is that we are Uncle Sam's property and that
he uses us where we can be of most use. As long
as we are useful we should feel satisfied, I suppose.
And it isn*t always pure good fun when you find
ramshackle planes such as these. And I do feel
sure that, without at least a partially trained eye
overseeing the planes here, there would soon be
some nasty accidents, for I have already con-
demned several planes in regular use. It is a
great experience and interesting work anyway,
and one ought to have something to show for
such good training as I had under that great
French tester: he is a wonder.
Good bye, dear P. A., with loads of love to all,
Ham.
February i^tb
Dear Roger,
It's a very foggy, drizzly morning so I don't
have to be on the job — hence the letter to you.
My job is testing airplanes now and it's a pretty
interesting one: only when you have to fly old
junks that tip way over on one side, or ones with
weak wings that make queer noises sometimes, it
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isn't half as much fun as it might be. Unfor-
tunately, I have been shifted over to another field
not far from the first one for the purpose of test-
ing all the old machines that are on the blink and
getting them right. One good thing about it is
that I get a lot of flying and experience that will
be of use when I get to the front.
They treat me well over here. I have my own
room with a little coal stove; also a swell little
gasoline stove to cook stuff' on. I have a well
equipped larder with eggs, cocoa, coffee, sardines,
chocolate, etc., in it, so I generally cook my
breakfast right here in my room, which is a great
convenience.
Your young eyfe would pop out of your head,
if you could see some of the latest war airplanes
performing. They go like streaks of lightning
and can do any acrobatics you ever heard of.
Best love, feller,
YourSy
Ham.
February 21
Dear Roger,
E. has just written saying that no one heard
from me between Dec. 12th and Jan. 13th. As
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a matter of fact I wrote many letters between
those dates and never have let a week pass with-
out writing to at least some of my family.
I just figured out today that on every good
day I travel about four hundred miles! Only I
never go more than a mile or two from the field,
when testing airplanes. Most of the ones I have
go about 120 miles an hourl It does seem funny
though to cover that much ground every day and
yet never leave the vicinity of the camp for any
distance.
I seem to be hopelessly stuck in this job of test-
ing with small chance of getting to the front for a
while. All the more so now because the French
tester who taught me how to test airplanes was
killed yesterday doing a barrel loop too close to
the ground. It was a rotten accident, especially
because he was one of the best pilots in France
and very valuable as a tester. I shall be very
careful not to do any acrobatics near the ground,
you bet. I won't even try any more fancy land-
ings, because the last time I tried one I didn't get
away with itl — but stalled and pancaked 30
feet, bending the axles and both wheels perfectly
flat. Golly, I felt like a boob I Yesterday I
"attacked" a Spad that hovered over our camp
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insultingly, and we had an exciting "combat**
for several minutes. I could have shot him up
because I managed to keep above and behind him
all the time. Finally he beat it off for the main
camp. It is true that ordinarily he could have
beaten me up with that machine, but his was an
old one and pretty well shot.
It looks like a good day for tomorrow, so I
had better go to bed early tonight.
So long, old boy, be good.
Yours, Ham.
Sunday, February 17, 191 8
Dearest Mother,
Tm sitting in a deserted barrack tonight, for
once again for the n-th time Fve had the ex-
perience of seeing classes with my friends along,
graduate and go sailing ahead to the place where
all roads lead (eventually), and where Fd give
anything to be myself. . . .
I must tell you of my delightful week-end.
Quentin knows a very nice family of French
people at R * about thirty miles from here.
They call themselves Normant and manufacture
cloth for the French government on a large scale.
* Romorantin.
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Yesterday afternoon we took a couple of planes,
stuck our bags in beside the seats and breezed
on over there, arriving fifteen minutes later.
They have a palatial house, and are dears. We
had a huge room, nice soft beds, and a real Ameri-
can-type tile bath-room to ourselves. It certainly
sets one up after this crude life here. Major
Grow was likewise staying there. They are a
typical French family of the upper class though
strangely like some American families we know,
in their informality and hospitality.
We started back at three this p.m. each with a
newly acquired box of candy and a large cake,
and found the usual Sunday afternoon crowd
hanging around the flying field. We took off*
together and "showed off'" mildly by chasing
each other and doing a few stunts, because the
French would be almost hurt if a visiting pilot
doesn't do some stunts, but out of deference for
the aged and none too solid condition of our
planes, we refrained from doing the hair-raising
vrille or tonneau. Coming back we throttled
down and just splurged about like two young
dolphins. Those are the times when flying is a
glorious sport. On my test flights I merely
circle the field, carefully feeling out the actions of
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my plane and never appreciating the joy of it.
Pannes are frequent of course, when one tests
ten or fifteen planes a day, but th^ usually in-
volve little more than a tedious wait till a truck
arrives with mechanics and spare parts to fix the
trouble or tow the plane back if badly out of
kilter. I shall be glad when I get my own private
plane, long-promised, in order to do my acro-
batics, etc., with a reasonable feeling of assurance
that it is strong and that no one else has been
putting it to undue strains. Twice, thus far, I
have had ribs or motor parts of wings crack with
a loud snarl when flying stunts; it is disconcerting
and makes one more cautious. However it is
mighty hard to convince other people when to do
things and when not to. All I can do is to say
that certain things should not be done on certain
planes; then if people do them, my responsi-
bility ends. So far not an accident has occurred
through breakage in the air; a thing that is
miraculous to me after some of the things I have
seen in my department in two short months.
Just got a good letter from Charlie Fuller in
Scotland, doing naval aviation patrol work. Also
a short note from Cousin Arthur whom I saw,
you remember, for about two minutes in Paris,
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but could not locate again. As for the war.
Mummy, who knows? They talk a lot, but one
man's gossip is as bad as another's. The thing is
to plug ahead indefinitely, then if the war does
suddenly stop, be surprised!
I can't say how many Americans are here at
the front or behind, whether or not the Germans
are feared in the coming drive, what condition
the supplies seem to be in, or anything else about
the old war. You must understand that we can
say practically nothing if we are to live up to
censorship regulations.
Practically all my Technology friends and the
others with whom I came over, have gone on
through the course here and left. Quentin is about
the only old friend here and he is a real one.
Your
Ham.
\^Issoudun\Feb. iStb
Dear Dickie,
I'm sitting hunched over a diminutive stove
that fairly glows red in its efforts to dispel the
cold night air that whistles in through cracks in
floor and walls of this barrack. The situation
recalls to me the descriptions I've had in Lu's
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and family letters of the fierceness of the cold at
home this winter. It surely must have been
pretty bad. We thought we had found Spring,
but the cold came back and still persists at times.
D. D., still a cadet, has been accomplishing
wonders in organizing and running efficiently the
machine shop which makes repairs on broken
planes and engines. It makes me laugh to have
him salute me and answer "Yes, sir" when I
speak to him, and then think of a time not so
long ago when he was soaking me black marks
at school: I, a thoroughly awe-stricken first-
former! I have to keep a straight face when he
salutes unless there is no one around. I guess
his commission will come through fairly soon, but
like countless others it has been months in the
coming.
Do tell some of those over-ambitious youths
that being in France doesn't mean being at the
front by a long shot. I can't say I feel any nearer
here than I did at Boston Tech! It's discourag-
ing to be useful in some fool way especially when
one falls into it almost by chance.
Best to Lu and the kids,
Ever your affectionate brother,
Ham.
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[^Issoudun] Feb. 26tb
Dear Lu,
You know it's funny, I spoke about feeling
ready for a little leave after having flown pretty
steadily since Oct. 15th. Well, it has been rain-
ing two days now and I feel the need or desire to
fly about twice as strongly as I ever felt the need
of rest. Such is the intoxication of it.
Fve been feeling a little low this week over the
departure of Q. R. (for three weeks only) and the
departure of two of my testing friends in four
days, for the great unknown . that lies beyond.
One of them was the French Lieut, of whom I
must have spoken; anyway, he was an extraor-
dinary and famous pilot, but reckless as the
dickens, and that was what did for him. The
other was a new tester learning the game, and
probably lack of experience or caution got him.
Discretion prevents me from dwelling on other
accidents, and it does no good to remember them,
only you can't very well help it when they are
close to you in one way or another. You really
get pretty callous to it all — I suppose some day
we shall see friends smashed at our very feet and
merely order someone to shovel it away. I wish
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they would be more careful because everyone
that gets killed makes one less, and therefore
makes it the more imperative for those who are
here to stay here as testers instead of going to
the front.
France is a quaint and delightful place when
you have time to appreciate it. I had time today,
for I was in the side car of a motorcycle for some
forty odd miles en route to another American
camp which we visited and from which two of us
returned this afternoon. Quaint is certainly a
just term for it — what else could you say when
you see a large white horse and a tiny brown
donkey harnessed together to an old-fashioned
plow with wheels? Then every town through
which you pass has some of those wonderful un-
symmetrical tumble-down houses of stone and
tile, overgrown with ivy and ages old houses
all huddled together, with occasional street
lamps projecting out on those fine old ironwork
brackets, little kids, dogs, cats and chickens run-
ning round the streets, and then the invariable
two-wheeled wagons with horses arranged in
tandem.
In some of the towns through which we passed
were American soldiers, and one of the things that
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Strikes you most is the way they get on with the
children. Walking down the road we saw a
burly U. S. private with a tiny kid clinging to
each of his husky hands, and three more marching
stiff and straight behind him as proud and happy
as little peacocks trailing after a large uncle
peacock. Further on a particularly tall sol-
dier was standing on a street corner doling out
pieces of candy to about fifty young kiddoes who
screamed and scrapped and clamored to get near
him. At every turn of the road we seemed sud-
denly to come on little bunches of children who
invariably rushed out to the roadside, hands in
air, shouting, "Good morning" or "Good night,"
thus much have they learned of the English
language. Gosh, it's a wonderful place; the
people are so entirely picturesque and slow and
cheerful. As a matter of fact, about nine-tenths
of the time they are artists in spite of themselves.
What one of them when building a house in which
the ridgepole was crooked, the sides of the roof
unequal, and a little ladder reached to the loft
or second story in place of stairs, would ever have
dreamed that his habitation when grown old,
moss-covered, and even more dilapidated, would
bring delight to the eyes of a practical American,
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accustomed to precise structures of steel and con-
crete, to machinery, to speed and accuracy in
all the ways and works of life?
Loads oj love.
Ham.
Sunday^ March 3
Dearest P. A.,
I dreamed of seeing you and mother last night
with a vividness that has persisted ever since.
You were debarking here to do Red Cross work
in Paris, and I met you at the steamer. I wish
something like that might happen.
We seem to have run into a spell of bad weather,
for there was regular flying but one day last week;
I attempted to carry on my testing on several
other occasions, but succeeded in breaking three
propellers, due to mud flying off" the wheels, in
one morning. This week end, too, I had secured
permission to take a short 'cross country flight in
my plane, but a sudden snowstorm put that out
of the question. I have had assigned to me a
brand new, spick and span plane, for my exclusive
use. On that machine only do I perform acro-
batics, because the other ships are too old and out
of line to be safe for this purpose. No further
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news of Joe since his first, last and only letter
of two weeks ago.
Quentin has gone away to another school for
about three weeks' instruction in aerial shooting.
John Mitchell of Manchester is the only man I
know at all at the field. We have a small but
not uncomfortable room together. You see the
classes come and go here so fast that you can't
possibly get to know the men, and all the ones I
knew graduated several months ago. On rainy
days we often go over to the main camp, four
miles away. There I make love to Miss Given
Wilson who is head of all Red Cross activities at
this Center, and a perfect dear. It is wonderful
what they have done here. They started with a
small canteen. They now have an officers' mess
for the whole camp, and an officers' sitting room
fitted up comfortably and attractively, large
kitchens which not only take care of the mess but
also work with the hospital in supplying special
food to men who are sick or on diet and per-
haps the most important of all is a large Red
Cross bath house equipped with hot showers,
clothes sterilizers, etc., and which can care for
several hundred men in an afternoon. Really
those women have changed the whole atmosphere
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of the camp, and are doing an enormous amount
of good, as much by their cheerful presence as by
their good works.
Did you ever get the painting I sent some time
ago? It was a rather striking one representing a
French plane following a German victim down as
a cat watches a wounded mouse. It ought to
be interesting because it was made by an artist
here who has seen it all with his own eyes and
paints it from the airman's point of view. The
ground is just as it appears to us at ten or twelve
thousand feet. Do let me know if you get it
safely.
Best love to ally
H.
Monday, Mar. 4, 191 8
Dearest Mother,
Your dear letter from Squam Feb. 9 has just
arrived. . . . Squam certainly is a wonderful
place; it's refreshing merely to think of it, but
always when I think it over it is our being to-
gether there that has made it so attractive. The
mention of almost any spot there brings back
most vivid memories of a picnic, a camping-trip
or merely a happy existence with the "gang."
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A funny incident occurred this afternoon which
I consider worth narrating: — A group of Boche
prisoners were at work levelling one end of the
flying field at the time the last patrol was return-
ing. The wind was such that the men had to
pass right over them (the Boches) on the glide
down. Well, one of the pilots, thinking more of
the hot supper that awaited him than of the
manner of his landing, misjudged his distance and
came whistling down over the toiling Germans,
about Jour feet high. One Boche, right in his
way, saw him coming just in time to fall flat on
his face to avoid being hit. Everybody roared it
was so funny, except the poor Boche who got up
shaking his fist at the distant pilot. He evidently
thought it was a carefully planned insult prompted
by HATE, but I know enough of the pilot to feel
assured that it was a pure accident. I don't
think he even knew they were Boches. Incident-
ally, the German prisoners here are treated very
humanely according to my way of thinking.
I keep on testing and testing these old rattle-
traps, and have acquired an awful keen eye for
little details such as missing cotter pins, safety
wires, lock washers, etc. Yes, these buses here
have seen service and are all just as greasy and
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grimy as they can be, but always just as I begin
to get disgusted with them, I take a glance back
over my shoulder to the hangar door, where stands
my private 'plane, brand new, spotless, and fairly
glistening with the extra coat of varnish, and I
think of the fun of riding in her, of doing loops
and barrels and renversements and sideslips to
my heart's content, and being able to feel con-
fident in the strength of its wings, which is more
than I can say for the others.
I must turn in now, dear Mammy, though I
fear the snow now falling will continue and make
unnecessary the early start for which Fm pre-
paring.
Bestest love,
Your
H.
[/550U(fun], Field No. 7, March 18
Dearest Mother,
I missed my Sunday letter yesterday because
I was at Mme. Normant's hospitable mansion
with Cord Meyer. We flew up yesterday morn-
ing, landing at the government house near their
house. These little week-end parties are about
the only diversion, and I can't tell you how nice
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those people are. You would appreciate Mme.
Normant immensely, I think. She is just as
jolly as she can be and so motherly to us boys,
and always when we leave she gives us each a
package of apples, nuts, or bonbons which tuck
easily away in our planes.
I must tell you about the excitement here
Saturday but cannot tell you the cause of it.
Perhaps you can guess when I tell you that it was
a little like Prize-Day at Groton (except for the
prizes) everybody shined up to look his, her, or
its bestest. I was one of five in an acrobatic
formation. When the formation broke up we all
did every stunt we could think of. I looped,
turned, and twisted so much that my judgment
of distances was distorted, and I broke the axle
of my darling on landing. There were forma-
tions, combats, and exhibitions for nearly two
hours. Just as we came down from our stunt
one of the apprentice testers went up, and started
to do foolish stunts close to the ground. He didn't
last long. About two minutes after going up he
stalled his machine without sufficient altitude in
which to save himself, and he came sizzling down,
hitting the ground like a rocket, head-first. He
is still alive. Mammy, but never will be worth
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much if he does live. It was pretty sickening,
happening right before our eyes, especially when
we could see it coming. Another tester gone, so
tonight Ma J. tells me that I am now to test
all machines at another field in addition to the
job here. It simply means doing half a job at
each place. Also at the other field there is a
green bunch of mechanics who thought a week
ago that they knew it all and didn't at all like
taking advice from other people. Now they
have discovered that they don't know it all, and
are a bunch of lambs but that doesn't alter the
fact that they are green. It's rather uncom-
fortable work testing planes that have been lined
up by green men. Darn those testers for get-
ting smashed up I It makes it so hard for the
few that are left. And as for chances of ever
getting leave or getting to the front — well I just
don't think about them any more.
Today we had the Red Cross directress. Miss
Irene Given Wilson, over to lunch, and behaved
our prettiest in the hope that she might see fit
to establish a miniature canteen here, modeled
after the splendid establishment at the main
camp. It really would be great, as we have prac-
tically no cosy place to sit round in and chat or
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write letters. The Y. M. C. A. provides good
movies and entertainments but it is used almost
exclusively by the enlisted men as a lounging
place, and besides it is so much like a large bam.
I tell you, it*s the feminine touch that makes the
diflFerence. A few table covers, cushions, and
cheerful chintz curtains make a world of dif-
ference, but the Y. M. C. A. never has those
little touches.
Fm a powerful tired fellow these evenings, but
if they keep on treating me the way they have
been, FII keep on going till I drop. That is one
great thing about this job. I am practically my
own boss, attend no formations, and use my own
judgment about when to fly and when not to.
I have my own machine, and they are very reason-
able about letting me take short cross-country
flights on Sundays. All I have to do is to do my
job the best I know how. Several would-be
testers found this freedom a little too much for
them and they are no longer testers.
Fm looking forward to more letters soon, but
have no complaints about the way you have been
writing lately; keep them coming, though, won't
you?
Your loving Ham.
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[^Issoudun] March 26
Dear Lu,
Just to show how far I have gone on my down-
ward path ril tell you that it is too cloudy and
windy to test this morning and then FII add, —
thank Heavens! I honestly don't feel that way
about flying; I love it just as much as ever, but
gosh, I am pretty tired if I do say so. It's the
same story day after day — out of one plane and
into another, gathering a little more grime and
grease each time. Sometimes the old ships aren't
any too easy to handle because the matter of ad-
justing them is largely by the trial and error
method. When the error predominates you be-
come aware of the fact only when you have
jumped irretrievably into the air. Then you
have a rather uncomfy few minutes until you
have completed your "tour de piste" and are
once more safely on mother earth. Of course
that only happens occasionally — most of the
trips run off* smoothly as can be and I can get
fairly good results now by dint of a few hundred
wrong guesses in time past.
Q. came back last night with a heavy cold as
usual, but it certainly is good to see him again.
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There are about five of us who are dam good
friends here and we always assemble after meals
in the captain's room to talk or play the
phonograph. There is one advantage to the
strenuous life and that is that they treat me
very well, and not like a kid any more, thank
goodness. I have my own plane and can get
permission to fly almost anywhere within range
on Saturday afternoons, returning Sunday p.m.
I seldom go far on these occasions as the aver-
age week provides enough flying — but it is
good to get away.
The front seems as remote as ever. They
need all the pilots they can get there yet I seem
to be stuck here. For some reasons new testers
don't seem to materialize very fast or they get
hurt or something and there is an ever-increasing
number of planes that need testing. However,
I hope either to be sent to the front as a
member of the stafi* for a month or so or else
permanently assigned to a squadron a little later,
possibly by June. "Barrack-room flying" has
started in and writing is consequently hopeless so
I stop now.
Your affectionate 6ro(6er,
Ham.
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Easter Sunday, March 31
Dearest Mother,
It seems absurd to discuss such insignificant
things as our little private doings here when this
terrific drive is going on, but I absolutely cannot
say anything about it that I should like to say,
Suffice it though, that the work of the French and
British Flying Corps in dispersing infantry at-
tacks sends little thrills up my spine every time
I think of it, and makes me more impatient than
ever before to get up there and into the tnilee.
Naturally I have had a lot of experience by now,
since I average from ten to thirty flights a day,
but I rap on wood as I say it, because a man could
fly until Doomsday and there would still be left
many things for him to learn. I look back on
these months of testing with a spirit of humble
thankfulness in my soul, for I have certainly had
splendid good luck all through and have fared
better than many of my comrades! I remain
most humble in my outlook for the future, know-
ing that my fate is written and that there is
nothing to worry about. I have acquired suf-
ficient skill to avoid the primary blunders (thus
far) but beyond that all is sheer luck.
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Yesterday Q. and I sailed up to the Normants!
Side by side we flew in our little buses, making
faces at each other occasionally just for amuse^
ment. Golly its fun, mammy! They always
meet us at the field in their auto and take us to
the house not much over a mile away. We spend
a glorious, peaceful day there. This afternoon
we all took bikes and rode out to look at a superb
little chateau belonging to an Aunt. The chateau
is of the 15th century. It is a diminutive aff'air,
but the most perfect specimen imaginable! It is
surrounded by a moat, has a fine little stone bridge
over it, with the family crest carved on the key
of the arch. At the end of the bridge is a re-
stored gateway leading to the court. On two
sides of this are the wings of the chateau, on the
other two a wall, to keep kids from falling into the
moat. The chateau itself is of solid stone ex-
terior, with towers at the corners. Inside you see
those grand old ceilings of hand-hewn beams, tiled
floors, and very pure renaissance furniture.
Back we came this afternoon about 5:30 dodg-
ing ominous storm clouds all the way and now,
after supper, there is a service in the Y.M.C.A.
I think ril look it over, though I seldom get up
much enthusiasm over them ordinarily. That is
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reserved for the memories of the recent past and
for what the near future has in store.
Your loving son^
Ham.
P. S. Quentin sends his love.
April 3, 1918
Dear P. A.,
Yesterday I flew a monoplane of the latest
type. It is faster than the best of the type you
recently questioned me about, and so sensitive
I felt that a sudden sneeze on my part would up-
set the craft. It felt as though I were clinging to
the back end of a sky-rocket! It climbed at
about the same angle, though probably at greater
speed. The wings seemed scarcely worthy of the
name; one was only conscious of the great power
of the motor, and terrific speed it gave the little bus.
Did I tell you that Joe has written me again
and that I know his location, though he made no
mention of it! He is, however, inaccessible by
avion according to my present Saturday after-
noon radius of action.
The testing work continues. Rainy days have
recently given me a chance to rest up and do a
little reading and letter writing. Tm lying low
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until I see the right time to ask for that welcome
leave. In between times I use the machine gun,
do trap-shooting and read about the care and
maintenance of different types of planes and
motors I shall be apt to come upon. It*s all
fascinating as ever my boyish imagination pic-
tured it might be. A dream come true, an am-
bition at least partially fulfilled. It was a relief
to find that I could "get away" with piloting that
monoplane, because it is the equal of any airplane
in point of speed and rate of climb. No other
plane is any more sensitive or difficult to handle
(though this was not difficult) as far as I can
gather from those who profess to know. It's just
a question of patient waiting until the time comes
when at last I can go, in the meantime gaining
all possible information and experience that will
be of use when that time comes.
Your loving Ham.
[^Issoudun]f April gtb
Dear Old Lu,
Your slob of a brother once more steps into the
breach after a long hiatus; Fve forgotten just
how long, but have a feeling it's over two weeks
since I last wrote. Let's see, what's the news?
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There isn't any. Our life here rolls on true to
the popular conception of an aviator's life as
voiced by the R. F. C. pilot who said, "The life
of an aviator is one of ease (comparative), and
luxury (ditto), punctuated by moments of in-
tense fear." I experienced one of the latter
yesterday afternoon, but, as usual, only after it
was all over and there was nothing to worry
about. I had just made a landing and was taxy-
ing peacefully back to my starting line when a
sudden roar made me realize that something
wasn't quite right. There about twenty feet in
front of me was an airplane, tail up, throttle
wide open, charging straight at me. I ducked
my head at the instant the thing shot over me
missing my bus by a matter of inches. It was
then that I sort of wilted for a few minutes. But
here I still am alive and kicking. You see it is
an inviolable rule that the man who is about to
"take off" assures himself that the field is clear
ahead, because of course a bus slowly taxying
can't possibly hope to dodge a plane tearing along
at about seventy miles an hour. He "misunder-
stood" a mechanic's signal or forgot to look or
something. Golly!
I still have to smile every time I think of these
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week-ends when little Hi takes his $8000 private
plane for a little "airing" at Uncle Sam's expense.
My own monogram is on its side and the cockpit
is arranged in my own pet way — here a shelf
on which to put bag and light refreshments for
the tedious journey, there an extra cushion for
my poor back. I almost fell out one day doing a
loop when the plane decided to give up the strug-
gle at the precise moment it assumed an upside
down position. I have therefore special handles
to cling to in such emergencies for the safety belt
has a patent clasp which can't be trusted. It has
a way of coming undone at the crucial moment,
usually the only moment when the old belt could
possibly be of any use. Oh, and Fm having the
ship painted a very smart buff color, sort of a rich
jersey cream idea, instead of the regular dingy
grey. Our private limousines must have a touch
of the distingu^, you know — !
You can imagine how I feel at getting letters
from some of my old crowd now at the front and
describing adventures over the lines. My pros-
pects are pretty bright though, because they have
promised to let me go "soon." Non-committal
but somewhat reassuring.
Your aff. brother. Ham.
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Sunday f April 14
Dearest Mother,
This Sunday we are residing peacefully at
camp as the rain spoiled our week-end flight.
Last night by way of diversion Q., Mac, the
doctor, and I had a sumptuous dinner at the
"Palace of Sweets" down town. It works out
rather well because by over-eating enormously
one removes all desire for the Sunday morning
meal which comes at the disconcerting hour of
seven-thirty!
What do you think Fve been doing this week?
Testing planes, just like every other week for the
last four months! I do seem to live with a horse-
shoe around my neck, though. It's all luck and
God's good-will whether one lives or dies, so why
worry, that's the way I look at it. Only yester-
day I had just come down from testing a plane
for acrobatics by doing all the regular stunts,
ending with the spinning dive known as a "vrille."
As the ship rested on the ground a puff of wind
hit the rudder and it came unstuck! The hinge
was carelessly welded on. Heaven only knows
why it waited till I came down before coming
off. That's only one of the six cases like it, but
it illustrates the kind of incident that develops a
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fatalistic point of view and strangely enough it
has just the opposite eflFect of making one worry.
It merely inspires a cahn feeling of dependence on
one's Maker!
Just before starting out for one of my trips
yesterday a mechanic said, "There are two lieu-
tenants out there in front of you, sir/* I noticed
that one of them was friend Q., so I cheerfully
thumbed my nose as I shot by them on my de-
collage. I only learned after coming down that
the other "lieutenant** was in reality Major S 1
Much worried I hastily sought out Q. to deter-
mine the Major's feelings on the subject. "Oh,
he only laughed,** said Q., "and said, *I guess
that's meant for you, isn*t it?*'* You see, he
knew we were pretty good friends.
Q. seems to figure in abnost every amusing in-
cident that happens to me. Last Tuesday I got
permission to try the little monoplane again.
Thinking to make a big impression (because this
monoplane commands attention wherever it goes)
I headed straight for here, our outlying field. As
I drew near I spotted Q. in his gaudily decorated
plane, circling around a toy balloon up over the
field, so of course I sailed up to say hello. Just
as I got close, however, he turned his attention
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from the toy baQoon, flipped over on his back
and came diving down on me in attack. That
possibility hadn't occurred to me, but one must
never refuse a combat, so I hastened to man-
oeuvre for position. Well it is commonly known
that the mono is far superior here to all the other
planes in speed, climb and manoeuvre ability, but
as it was only my second trip in the little devil
and as it is a very sensitive appareiU demanding
skilful handling, I didn't dare to whisk it around
in the slap-dash manner that would have saved
the situation, and consequently I was ignomini-
ously defeated in the fight! Now my chances of
revenge are poor because another pilot has since
wrecked the little plane. It's a hard life.
Last Sunday a boy coming over from the main
camp said that a cousin of mine had just come
to the Y. M. C. A. Her name is Miss Mary
Curtis, bright red hair, with a disposition and at-
mosphere about her just as bright. Yesterday
several of us had tea with her here. It seems
funny to have to come to France to meet one's
cousins. She's very attractive (you probably
know her), and I foresee that we shall have grand
gossipy talks about all the goings on in the Big
City. Also she seems very pleased with the
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Transcripts which I hand on. The men all like
her so well too — why don't they send more of
her style instead of some of the others? Vm a
cat — because they all do such good work.
Yesterday Q. and I once more attacked the
Major on the subject of getting out to the front.
Well, a rather discouraging circumstance renders
it useless just now, so there's obviously nothing
to do but wait in patience.
Sunday, April 21
Dearest Mother,
When I got back this evening I found a letter
from my old friend Doug Campbell awaiting
me, and Fm going to quote you what I consider
a pretty thrilling little episode: — "Yesterday
morning the wildest and least expected thing in
my life and the history of aviation took place
right here. It was our first day of regular work
since coming to this camp, and Alan and I
were "on alert" from 6 to 10 a.m. At 8.45 a
telephone message stated that two Boches had
been seen not far from here, coming this way,
and at 8.50 I took ofi*. I had reached 500 meters
and was just about to fall in behind Alan when I
saw him pique on a machine flying at 300 m. It
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was a Boche, an Albatross D 5. I viraged to
see better and to help if necessary, and just as
I did so I heard the pop-pop of a machine gun.
Another Albatross was piquing on me out of a
cloud, and was 150 meters away. I kept below
him while manoeuvring, and it took over a minute
to get a good position. I found myself under-
neath him going in the same direction, and, for-
getting I was only 200 meters from the ground, I
stood the bus on its tail (i.e. pointed her nose
straight upwards — H. C.) and shot from below.
I think I hit his motor for the next thing I knew,
he was piquing and I was on his tail at 100 meters
distance. Pulling heavily on the trigger, I let
him have some 50 rounds and stopped when I
saw his fuselage ablaze. He landed 500 meters
from my hangar, and capoted in a mass of flame
and wreckage, but the pilot was thrown clear.
Alan brought his Boche down 200 meters
from the other side of the aerodrome, but without
burning it. He got lots of interesting instru-
ments, spark plugs, magneto (Bosch) and other
things out of it. Aren^t we two of the luckiest
damn fools that ever happened? The machines,
or rather what was left of them, were taken to
Toul and set up in the square. Major H
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trotted us down to the celebration in the after-
noon with the result that we now own the town.
All yesterday and today we have been receiving
reporters; we are seriously thinking of making
the story into a phonograph record ! "
What do you think of that? Did you ever
read a more vivid account of an aerial combat
and doesn't it thrill you? It certainly aflFects me
that way, so can you blame me for being restless
in this old joint? Then knowing Doug so well
brings that home. If they ever need recruits for
aviation I bet the publication of that letter would
land a lot. It was a remarkable performance
because Doug nailed his man from an unfavorable
position. The advantage was all in the Boche's
favor, being above and having surprised him,
but Doug's skill in manoeuvring and his good
eye were what did the trick. Another phase of
the story came out in the papers. One of the
mechanics who was watching the combat got hit
in the ear with a bullet, and he's so pleased with
himself he doesn't know what to do. "He re-
gards his ear as a great souvenir," says Doug.
I'm not exactly tired because many rainy days
give me rest, but I do feel a trifle stale with the
long monotony of this place and my continual
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restlessness. My idea of Heaven right now would
be that seven day's leave and then go directly
to the front to get some action at last. Fve
learned to fly, now I want to scrap. I have a
promising assistant tester now and am doing
my best to break him in to take my place. We
have some interesting new machines of the latest
pattern and they let me use them any time I
want or can get off, so all that is good practice.
France, April 22
Dear Roger,
I've just had three good letters from you and
in my turn have not written for ages. You speak
of filling rubber balloons with homemade hydro-
gen — I am doing something on the same order.
One of my mechanics has made me a bunch of
paper parachutes with a weight to ballast them.
I take them up in my plane and throw one over-
board when I get up high. Then the fun begins.
I dive at it, aiming at it as if it were a Boche
plane, and dodge only at the last moment. You'd
be surprised how hard it is to throw it clear of
the plane. Often it gets caught in the rudder or
stabilizer. It is necessary to make a sharp turn
and throw it in the middle of the turn. Some-
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times I chase stray peeps and that's swell fun, only
they always dodge just as you overtake them.
I must stop now to fix up some of the rest of my
family — so long, old feller — be good to yourself.
Love^ Ham.
{^IssouduTi} April 22
My Dear P. A.,
Thank goodness that awful winter of yours is
at last over or practically so; it must have caused
a deal of suffering to all concerned. Crude oil
must have received manifold blessings those icy
days! Even now I willingly light my little stove
in the evenings, and wear my ** teddy bear" suit
(fur lined) for my early flights, substituting for it
a light gingham combination when the sun gets
warm later in the day. WeVe been having rotten
weather for flying. Rain, strong wind, clouds,
and continual mist and fog. One poor boy lost
his life Saturday when fog shut in so suddenly
that he was caught unaware and could not see the
ground. He crashed blindly into a tree and lost
the top of his head.
P. A. why not write Mrs. Benjamin Normant?
She has done so much for me and would be very
pleased to hear from a grateful father. M. Nor-
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mant is an invalid, so it is Mrs. that we know
really well. They own a large factory and much
land upon which the American government con-
structs large camps, and they know all the Ameri-
can officers. Quentin makes a great hit with her
in particular (Mme. N.) The French language
proves not the slightest barrier to his irrepressible
sense of humor and his personality is almost as
marked as his father's. Quentin stays here as
officer in charge of flying and is as restless as I am.
I sometimes regret my course of action in hav-
ing deliberately rejected the job of chief tester
of the ^rd Aviation Instruction Centre at the
main field, a job which was open to me a month
ago when my senior tester left for other parts.
It nearly makes me weep when the French me-
chanics there continually ask about me and if
Fm not coming back there. You see I was the
only tester who could speak any French at the
time, and they felt that I appreciated their ex-
perience and work, the former much greater than
that of their American comrades at the same
work. I was able too, to play the diplomat and
allay misunderstandings, only too frequent, be-
tween them and the American mechanics.
Here I have about eight mechanics in my test-
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ing dept. and we are firm friends, though an
anonymous letter I found a few days ago would
lead me to believe that perhaps all the other
mechanics don't feel the same way towards me.
The letter reads about as follows:
Lieut. Coolidge — Tester.
Sir, As a man that wants to see fair play I Jeel
it my duty to warn you that Sergeant X is out
to get your lije. I have already spoiled bis game
oncey but after tbis it unll be your funeral, not mine,
so Be Prepared!
(Signed) A Friend
The letter I at once turned over to the Capt.
who is looking the matter up, but we attribute it
to jealousy of the sergt. in question and an under-
handed attempt to "get him in wrong," rather
than the revelation of an insidious plot. Some-
how it doesn't worry me. One chance more or
less makes little difference these days. Of course
I am, indeed always have been, careful about in-
specting every detail of my planes for the students'
sake as well as my own. I owe it to them if not
to myself.
Your loving son, Ham.
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[^Paris'] April 30, 191 8
Dearest Mother,
What do you think of this unforeseen little spree?
Q. and I are here, having flown up together last
Saturday. You know the joke of the whole thing
was that we never asked to come, but were just
shipped off", it being impractical at the present
time to grant leaves involving travel by land. So
we were sent up here en avion to enjoy life for
about a week. You can bet we are doing it. Q.
is staying at his sister's apartment, I at a very
swank hotel doling out much moneys, but making
up for lots of discomforts and inconveniences in
a short time. I went to "Faust** last night and
enjoyed it immensely.
I dined with Q. and his sister today, and after-
wards we wandered down through the old city.
Sainte Genevieve we found particularly beautiful
inside. Golly I wish I knew more of the history
of these wonderful old places and buildings one
finds everywhere, because I love and admire them
for their intrinsic beauty without being able to
appreciate their historic significance. I always
was a perfect thick-head at history — now of
course Tm mightily regretting it.
This really is a delightful change and I do think
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we both needed it pretty badly. After this we
will probably be able to stick it out till we go to
the front if that event ever does come to pass.
We had a grand trip up, flying side by side in
our special planes. Mine has a new motor pre-
sented by a friend of mine who runs the machine
shop, so it is the more agreeable to ride in. We
dodged in and out of clouds all the way up and
just at the end ran through a rain storm. Wow!
but things are expensive these days! Actually a
good meal in one of the well-known restaurants
costs about forty francs or so without wine.
Loads of love.
Your Ham.
{^IssouduTi] Friday y May 3
Dear P. A.,
I feel as if I were walking on air, having ridden
on it for two delightful hours this afternoon on
my way down from Paris with Q., and finding
on my table a pile of letters from home, quantities
of shaving cream and toothpaste (enough to carry
the Allied forces through the spring drive), and a
box of cigarettes from Mrs. Arthur Richmond.
Golly! it was a refreshing week, as much for the
change of scene and people as for the complete
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relaxation from this job. Did I tell you of dining,
quite by chance, with the Commanding General
of the Air Service, and learning loads of interest-
ing (though not too encouraging) news of our
branch of the service? It gave me a chance, too,
to slide in a word or two for two poor fellers who
had been held back at their flying school some
five months after finishing their course! I had
a delicious time, saw some nice people, and spent
much precious money! — but the justification is,
that so complete a change has set me all up again
and now Vm ready to go at it again, this time in
the belief that the end of our troubles here is
within sight. I cannot say what I should like
to say about the chief reason for our delay.
You can't imagine the sensations of flying over
that wonderful city, and how intensely you listen
to the hum of your motor. The slightest irregu-
larity in its soothing purr causes you to crane your
neck over the side of the fuselage and say to
yourself, "Yes, there are the Jardins des Tuileries,
Luxembourg, and the Place de la Concorde —
I wonder which would be the softest spot to come
down in?" But in a minute you realize that it
was but the working of your imagination — the
motor is running quite smoothly, and you can go
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ahead enjoying it all. Then there is Q. who has
pulled away from you a bit and you must catch
up to him; two is company in the air as well as
on earth.
Much love, H.
[_Issoudun] Sunday, May $tb, 191 8
Dearest Lu,
On my return from Paris a few days ago I found
two swell old letters from you, the first, in fact,
for ages, so now things are all cheerful again. I
can say that I was in Paris since my trip had no
military significance whatever.
We had a perfectly swell time there as you can
imagine. Q. stayed at his sister-in-law's (Mrs.
T. R., Jr.) and I at the Hotel Meurice in a palatial
apartment with bath, costing beaucoup francs a
day. I saw Q. all the time and his sister several
times. I dined at their house and we had lunch
together often. Archie R. J saw too, not looking
too well after his wounds, but obstinately per-
sistent none the less. It appears that he gave
a pretty superb exhibition up there. Kept on
scrapping after one wound until a second (in the
knee) put him out two hours later. He then
stayed until he had given all instructions, orders,
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etc., and proceeded to the hospital. Twice on
the way shells scared away the stretcher-bearers,
who dropped him, only returning when A. casu-
ally remarked that he thought it was safe for
them to take him on again. It was 14 hours
before he got to the hospital.
Fve got to stop now and get to bed before those
beastly lights go out — and Fve said nothing so
you can expect to hear again soon.
LA)ads of lovcy
Ham.
Monday 9 May 13
Mother Dear,
I have more adventures to relate, though this
time the denouement did not occur against a
pear tree in the back yard of a chateau! Sat-
urday P.M. I flew to the town [Tours] near which
I had my old smash-up which you will perhaps
recall — to see our cousin, Maj. Arthur D. Hill.
The trip down was without particular incident.
I followed a river so as not to get lost and had no
trouble till the very end, when a heavy fog made
it very difficult to locate the champ d^aviation^
and necessitated flying over the city at a height
of two hundred meters, when one ought to fly
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at a thousand or more. Cousin Arthur was busy
that evening, but we had breakfast Sunday morn-
ing, afterwards walking together all around the
town and seeing some pretty splendid old build-
ings. It was great to see him and have a good
old chat after missing him in Paris some months
ago. He is looking well, and has an absorbingly
interesting and busy job.
The weather looked punk in the early after-
noon, raining occasionally and always overcast
and misty, but about four o'clock I decided to
walk out to the field and at least go up for a look
at the atmosphere. I found it very hazy, but it
did not look particularly threatening, so I started
out homeward bound, following the river like a
guiding star. It was about time to leave the
river and fly across country for a short distance
to the camp, when I ran into a series of the fierc-
est storms imaginable. It was discouraging; I
could hardly see a foot ahead of me and to see
the ground at all I had to fly at about lOO meters.
It was obvious that there was nothing to do but
come down. Luckily I saw a small though quite
level field near a road and farmhouse, and this
time, mirabile dictu^ I landed neatly in the middle
without hitting the fringing trees! Well, in two
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minutes the hubbub began. Little kids, old men,
and women came running from all directions. A
pathetic-looking old man came up to me, exclaim-
ing that, as I had landed in his pet oatfield, all
the people would come tramping out and spoil
his crop. Could I not move on to another field?
I explained to him that under the circumstances it
was impractical. He seemed resigned and posted
himself au milieUy swearing loud reproaches and
threats at any who attempted to cross his fence.
He stayed there till dark (about two hours),
when a guard became unnecessary. I proceeded
to the little village, found the telephone office
closed, thence hunted up the Mayor whom I
finally located in the bar, making merry with
his comrades. We discussed the matter and it
turned out that while I had landed near the town,
my plane was actually in the next commune.
To get a guard for it, it would be necessary to
walk to a town some ten or fifteen kilometers
away, so I decided it was **pas la peine.** The
poor man was mortally offended when I would
not accept a glass of cognac, but a single test as-
sured me long ago that the stuff is nothing but
a form of liquid fire and never intended for human
consumption. Back I trotted to the farm house,
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escorted by a mob of excited kids. My hostess
was a middle-aged farmer's widow — rather a
pathetic person, but full of hospitality. She had
one son about OUy's age, and two very cunning
little kids about nine and ten respectively, named
Edouard and Suzanne. The kitchen delighted my
soul. It was a spotless room with a tiled floor.
On one side a huge open fire-place where the supper
was cooking and a black and white cat was snooz-
ing, perched upon a sort of a little stool, her ex-
clusive property. Beside the fire-place was a
quite modern stove with polished nickel trimmings
(obviously the proudest possession of the house-
hold), but which, the Madame explained, was no
longer in operation on account of coal shortage.
In a corner stood a grandfather's clock, old as
Methuselah, but actually going. On the wall
opposite the fire-place was an array of those
wonderful burnished copper pots, ranged accord-
ing to size.
Dinner was a grand occasion. One of the neigh-
bor's kids was invited and once again I was thank-
ful for being able to keep up at least an under-
standable conversation in French. I was the
guest of honor seated in one of the parlor chairs
with leather seat and back as distinguished from
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the Other plain wooden ones! We were at table
from eight till nearly eleven o'clock, for after the
eating was finished two neighbors of the madame's
came in and the drinking began. I was exhausted
but stuck to my post bravely, drinking a little
rather ix)or vin rouge and some very good cider.
They gave me a spotless little room with a huge
mahogany bed, the equal of which I have never
seen. It had three eiderdown mattresses and clean
sheets, so I slept like a log.
This morning I bade them a fond farewell, and
struggled to start my motor till I felt like busting.
The motor is of a hundred and twenty horse-
power and ordinarily two mechanics crank it,
so you can imagine it was a job for one pilot (the
few onlookers would not touch the thing). It
finally did go, however, and after getting hope-
lessly lost in some mist that sprang up, I finally
picked up a railroad that seemed to go in the right
direction, and a few minutes later saw on the
horizon the two friendly chimneys of the brewery
in our "home town." I now have a heavy cold
because of the exertion of cranking that beastly
motor followed by a speedy cooling-ofF process in
the clouds, but two good letters from you and a
good warm stove make everything cheerful.
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Sunday, May 19
Dearest Mother,
One of the discouraging features of letter-
writing is that when one finally does have a
little news of considerable interest he may say
nothing whatever! That's my predicament at this
minute. The news is good, I think, and perhaps
a little later we may be allowed to talk. Golly,
let's see, the week has been interesting, but chiefly
because of the one event above alluded to. Out-
side of that, just ordinary stuff. Wednesday I
went up to 6000 meters just for fun and to see
how the altitude would afi'ect me. At 4000 I
felt a little dizzy but that passed off quickly and
all I noticed after that was the rapid breathing
necessary and the intense cold. On the way down
I tried an experiment. You know they say that
if you ever feel that you are losing consciousness
because of wounds or anything, to cut out the
motor and release all controls. Well I tried it
just for fun. At first the ship started gliding
down, but the glide became steeper and steeper
and steeper. Still I held on to myself and swore
I would not touch those controls for a few seconds
more. The glide had now developed into a per-
fectly vertical nose dive, the speed of which is
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past imagination. By this time I had become
convinced that the plane would not right itself.
I had dropped nearly 6000 feet, the last few
thousand vertically, so I finally did take hold and
drew her — oh so gently — back to the horizontal,
because any sudden jerk would undoubtedly have
deprived me of a pair of quite useful wings!
Tm all alone at home this boiling Sunday
afternoon because I came back from the Event
yesterday rather late to fly away, and this morn-
ing the fog was so thick you could cut it with a
knife, so I decided to spend a lazy, peaceful day
here. All the men are out playing ball — but
this pastime has more attraction for one just now.
Quentin went off* at 8.05 last evening and into
such bad-looking weather that I had the search-
lights made ready in case he should be forced to
come back in the dark. I guess he made it all
right though. I must write many letters, dear
Mammy, so FU close.
With best love. Ham.
Sunday, May igtb
Dear Roger,
I don't believe I am violating my censorship
regulations when I tell you that I have seen the
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Liberty motor in action and think it looks good.
Very soon I hope to fly behind it and then I
can have a better chance to judge. You can
be sure that I shall tell you all that is permissible
about it.
I have just come down from taking a friend of
mine up for his first ride in a plane. It's great
fun to watch them. Some get scared every time
you bank around a corner and stick their heads
inside. Others are curious and look out over the
side. This man sat up perfectly straight "head
erect, eyes to the front." We had a fine time
chasing goats in the fields and waving at all the
old farmers we saw. You see we had a big, slow
tub and followed good ground all the time so we
could always have landed in case the motor
stopped.
The weather is pretty hot now; in fact, it's
just about like midsunmier. Our barrack roof
has seams coated with tar and this melts and drips
through all over our bed and clothes and every-
thing; gosh, it makes me wild!
Think of me when you get up to Squam, old
boy. I should love to be there for a while!
Your aff. brother^
Ham.
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May 24, 1918
Dear P. A.,
Yes, I have a little news but scarcely dare
suggest its nature for fear of once again encounter-
ing a snare and a delusion. Monday next I shall
go to a certain school of aerial fire to learn the
niceties of combat tactics and handling the
machine gun effectively. Some three weeks later
if all goes well you can think of me proceeding
frontwards with Q. to join a French Squadron,
using a make of plane about which you once
questioned me, and about which I wrote, de-
scribing it as a most agreeable plane to drive
"though hardly up to the latest types." I must
take back that statement, however, for the plane
from which I drew my conclusion was of an ob-
solete model and underpowered. The new ones
will be the last word in monoplace fighters with
high power motors. I have a suspicion that my
stay at the front will not be permanent; that their
intention is to give me a taste of it and then bring
me back. This does not appeal unless the taste
is a prolonged one.
Your loving
Ham.
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Sunday^ May 26
Dearest Mother,
This is my last day of this place for a while,
thank goodness! It isn't a bad place and has
developed from nothing into an efficient flying
school, but when one has been here some seven
months always with another place in mind the
strain begins to tell. I went alone to say au-
revoir to the Normants today, Q. sailing off* for
Paris at an early hour.
I want to tell you a little incident of the kind
that has frequently influenced me in forming an
opinion of the French people, as it has to do with
my departure. On occasional visits to town I
always used to drop into a little grocery store to
buy walnuts, chocolate (il rCy en a plus), etc.
The store is run by an old lady, her daughter,
and son of about twelve. I always chatted with
them, especially the kid who seemed very inter-
ested in aviation. One day he asked me if he
might come out to our field, so I wrote him out a
pass that would let him through the guard line.
Four successive Sundays he came without finding
me, and I did not see him till he walked out
(some 4 miles) one Tuesday. I showed him
around, did a few stunts for him — it is forbidden
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to take up outsiders — and sent him away with
some chocolate from the Y. M. C. A.
Last night finding myself in town to get my
laundry, I dropped into Raymond's little epi-
eerie as usual and happened to mention that I
was going away. I thought nothing more about
them till it was nearly ten o'clock, the time when
the trucks leave the square. Then at the truck
were Raymond, his mother and sister all dressed
up in their best black things to see me off! I was
struck dumb with surprise. The old lady almost
wept when she told me how happy I had made
her Raymond (it took all of 30 seconds to write
out a pass for him), and after wishing me "6onne
cbanee** she thrust a small package into my hands
saying, " Je les ai Jait moi-m^e, vous pouvez les
envoyer d voire mhre** They were two hand-
made doilies. I can tell you I had a lump in my
throat as I climbed into the truck for camp. It's
so typical of these people. Really they are won-
derful; you realize it more and more as you come
in contact with them. And, too, you can ap-
preciate the psychological effect of a send-off like
that. You feel as if there were nothing you
wouldn't do for them.
— Pardon an interruption; a French pilot has
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just come down, and being one of the few French-
speaking officers I have to play the host. It's
quite noticeable that the French pilots drop in
on us more and more often. Sometimes as in
this case they have little or no excuse (he said his
motor was not running well and there was a mist
coming up), so you can safely assume that they
like to do it. They find us ^Uris bien iristalUs^**
we have good tobacco at our Y. M. C. A., great
treat to Frenchmen. Our food is good, our bar-
racks clean and comfortable. This particular
Frenchman, speaking in broken English, held an
eager throng of men spell-bound last night as he
told in a most natural, casual way of some of his
experiences over the lines. We were at the piano
in the Y. M. C. A. and he started talking to me
alone, but after two minutes there was a crowd
around ten deep. You could see that he was
having the time of his life too, because the French-
man likes to talk that way to admiring listeners.
Do try and locate a copy of L Illustration,
Mai 1 8, and look on page 492. There you will
see a glimpse of our field with its long line of planes
on dress parade, and a neat row of hangars be-
hind. Gliding down over these hangars, in act
of landing you will see a small 'bus in which
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placidly sits your son, though this most im-
portant feature of the picture is entirely too small
to be recognized. I remember when the picture
was taken some months ago.
Another thrilling letter from Douglas Camp-
bell tells of his victory over his third Boche — a
biplane this time, and the joke was that he had
his brother out there for the day on a visit, and
did it all in front of him. Together they rode
out in a touring car and examined the wreck I
That's the life. Mammy I
Your loving.
Ham.
american aviation detachment
G. D. E.
AVIATION FRANQAISE
PAR B. C. M.,* PARIS
June 9, 1918
Dearest Mammy,
From the above address you can see my situa-
tion. I am now officially attached to French
Aviation. We are at a most interesting place,
warming up on the types of planes we shall use
♦ [Bureau] [Central] [Militaire].
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at the front, while we await assignment to a
French escadrille. Vm one of the happiest men
on earth because you know of the trials and
tribulations that attended my progress toward the
front; I should say you know some of them, be-
cause no sooner had I left the 3rd Aviation Inst,
Centre and gone to the "pool" for pilots for the
front, than I was nailed for another testing job —
receiving planes from the French Gov't, for the
American Gov't. I raised a fearful howl and at
the same time a telegram from my old C. O. re-
quested that I be allowed to come here, . . .
(next day) ... so they finally gave in and I feel
fairly secure, though of course one can never tell
when their grasping claws may try to steal me
back again. Quentin's here too, Mammy, the
others I know but slightly. We are assigned to
the division Spad, and must become adepts in it
before being allowed to go on. Judging by the
performances of the Frenchmen here on those
planes I think we should make good rather
quickly, because they seem rather crude. It
doesn't pay to prophesy, however, for we may
smash them all up ourselves. Q. and I have
both driven Spads already, so we don't feel es-
pecially worried about it. The Spad is a sweet
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machine, and if you have been reading the Sat-
urday Evening Post you will see that only "Super-
men" and "Wizards of the Air" can ever hope
to master them. The inference is obvious. Per-
haps, however, the writer of that article was a bit
over-enthusiastic or was being a bit sensational.
Now that my testing career is over, I will confess
that a weight is off my mind. The idea of being
smashed up way behind the lines never appealed
to me. The trouble is that my bosses attributed
to skill what I know was attributable only to
pure luck, for I certainly traveled with a horse-
shoe around my neck.
We are billeted in a tiny hamlet, and have for
quarters the attic of a tiny farmhouse. Condi-
tions are pretty crude compared to what we are
used to, but ga ne Jait rien. The first evening
we were here we went out in the little * place'
to play ball. We hadn't been there two minutes
before a flock of kids and old men came out to
look at thpse strange beings called Americans
who were behaving like infants that way. This
seems to be one of the few places in France where
Americans are still a curiosity.
I guess you can appreciate the advantages of
going into French escadrilles. We shall be with
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old hands at the game who can teach us much
in the gentle art of aerial battle tactics. At the
same time I think our enthusiasm will be good
for them. . . . Just at this moment we heard a
loud beating on a drum outside, and all ran to the
window to see what was up. It turned out to
be the "town crier" making an announcement.
We couldn't hear very well so we all yelled ''Bis,
bis** in loud tones. He then caine over to our
house and told us that we could care for refugee
children at 60 francs a month, etc. France
certainly is a delightful, quaint, picturesque, old
country and I love it. Do you know those fine
old windmills, four-bladed affairs mounted upon
a turntable house where they grind wheat? Well,
there are many of them around as prominent
landmarks on the flat country. Let's call off"
the old war for a while. You will come over and
we shall have a grand old party cruising all over
this country and then home for good and all!
H.
Paris, June i$tb
Dear Lu,
I feel like a travelling salesman going from
place to place with all kinds of disreputable look-
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ing baggage. My poor mail seems always to be
one place behind me, but if I ever stay long enough
in one place it will eventually catch up. I have
just been detached from French Aviation and to-
morrow we go to the front, to an American Squad-
ron, so if you don't hear from me for a while don't
think Fm a slob. We expect lots of action —
and it's the one thing we most want. Golly, it's
going to be exciting. I shouldn't be surprised if
we did a good deal of "trench strafing" close to
the ground; I think that appeals more than the
very high work. It's too darn cold up there.
Thank goodness, they have left us together,
Q. and me. They've been mighty decent about
that.
Best love, Lu and Dickie^
Ham.
[Touf], June 19, 191 8
Beloved Mother,
Here I am at last after all these months of im-
patient waiting, and indications point to a busy
time. We are very comfortably installed here
and the spirit and atmosphere are inspiring to
say the least. A pilot at the front is no longer
treated as a schoolboy. In my own case I have
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little to complain of in this respect, but I had it
much better than did the students at the 3d
A. I. C
The day after arriving our captain sent me up
for a trial flight and to get used to the new ma-
chine a little. That evening — it was last even-
ing, come to think of it — I went out over the
lines with three of the older pilots. It was most
bewildering, because there was so hopelessly
much to think about. The "Archies" or anti-
air craft guns kept a steady fire at us, but mean-
time it was necessary to regard the instruments on
your machine, to keep in touch with your com-
rades, and continually to watch for the Boches.
We sighted a Boche patrol way below us, but they
turned back when they saw us. We were only
over the lines a few minutes and saw very little
in the evening haze.
The real fun started at 3 o*cIock, this morning,
when a tremendous bombardment started up.
It waked me up at once. Shortly afterwards our
flight leader tapped on my door and said, " I guess
we had better get up, it looks as if the Huns
were starting something." When we came over
the lines, we could see hundreds of brilliant little
flashes twinkling out of the twilight here and
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there. Our job was to remain an hour and a half
over a certain place, and jump on any Hun planes
who might come out to regulate the fire of their
artillery. Well, Mammy, there was a layer of
clouds that just suited the Boche anti-air craft
gunners. For an hour and a half we circled round
over the place amid an incessant storm of shrapnel
bursts. Sometimes, they came so close that I
could feel my whole plane give a great bounce
from the concussion, tho' no fragments actually
hit me. We circled, twisted, squirmed and dived
and always the black bursts appeared at the spot
where we had been only a fraction of a second
before. It was absolutely thrilling. As the sun
rose we could see more and more of the trenches,
and bursts of smoke from exploding shells. The
joke is that the Boche started using gas shells
exclusively. Then the wind shifted completely
around and blew his gas right back on him.
There was no infantry action for some reason,
merely a violent bombardment, and never a
single Boche plane appeared. It was a sur-
prisingly sudden baptism for me, but the sooner
one gets used to the Archies and to being con-
tinually alert, the better it is, and I was mighty
glad they were willing to send me out so soon
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(some of the pilots ahead of me have been waiting
around for days).
Q. is in the same group and on the same field,
but in a different squadron, darn it alll We are
trying to work out some way of having him trans-
ferred to this squadron, because both of us know
more of the boys in it than in the others.
My official address is — 94th Aero Squadron
I St Pursuit Group, Z. of A.
American E. F.
Your
Ham.
[Toul] June 23, 19 18
Dearest Mother,
My head is heavy as I write these lines. We
got up this morning again at 3 130 to stage a little
"stunt." My r6Ie was to go out with our Capt.
and patrol a certain length of the lines, drawing
anti-craft fire and generally carrying on in such
a way as to divert attention from certain of our
comrades, who were the chief jjerpetrators of the
stunt. I performed my duty exceptionally well,
as I afterwards found out, though I must make
the admission that it was entirely unknowingly
that I did so. You see I never have been over
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that part of the lines before, so I did not realize
when we reached them. Moreover I didn't see
any of the black shrapnel puffs, that generally
inform one that he is over hostile territory. A
few "onion," or incendiary, rockets, and in-
cendiary bullets came up, but still it did not dawn
on me. The Capt. seemed to be acting queerly,
too, and a few minutes later I lost sight of him.
I circled around hoping he would pick me up
again, and in the meantime I saw a distant plane
that might have been anything. But no, it was
one of five Boche machines that had their eye on
us and were looking for a chance to bite if we
crossed their lines. They must have known I
was lost more or less because the Capt., who saw
them all the time, said they all started to get
together and come my way. About five minutes
later the Capt. found me wandering around and
he motioned "home.** Back we came tout de
suitCf and then he told me how they were aiming
to trap us. Two were on our level, one below,
and two way above usl It just shows how little
the green fighter sees. Anyway I did distract
the Boche's attention for a while 1
I have another plane as my first one was
wrecked a few days ago. The motor stopped
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suddenly when I was very low and over bad
country. A good landing was impossible, and I
was very lucky to get out of it with wrecking my
machine, but not myself. You see these little
buses are very small and fast, and dependent
greatly upon the motor. Without it, the wings
are so small that you have to descend rapidly
and land very fast. Obviously, a smooth field is
the only one adapted to that kind of work.
This is a great life, and much different from
what I pictured life at the front to be. There is
little noise, except for occasional artillery activity.
We have wonderful quarters, and delicious food:
also hot and cold shower baths. Of course, this
is a quiet sector, so one must make allowances.
Other places are not nearly so good.
Tve got to go up on patrol now. A bunch of
us will protect some observation planes.
Best lovCf dear Mammy,
Ham.
[Touquin] June 29
Dearest Mammy,
I find myself rather restricted in the news I
should like to tell you, on account of the censor-
ship regulations. Naturally one must be par-
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ticularly careful about such things in the zone of
advance.
We are now living in a most superb chateau!
Never have I seen such splendid grounds and
gardens, though of course they are not adequately
cared for in these times of war. The gardens
have beautiful roses, and many other kinds of
flowers, but something which interests us even
more is the abundant supply of fresh vegetables
which they off'er. On the grounds of the chateau
is a small lake with loads of fish. There are stone
steps leading down to the water's edge, and you
almost expect to find a gondola waiting there.
Really this place is the sort of thing you read
about. It seems hardly real. It certainly is up
to us to show some good results in our work to
justify such luxurious living conditions.
In the line of our work, I have nothing new to
tell you since that experience of which I have
already written you. You remember, it was the
time when I didn't see four Boches who did see
us, and when our Capt. saved the situation for
me. Two nights later we were raided in magnifi-
cent style, and had to take to our abris^ though
most of the time we stood just outside watching
the show. We could plainly hear two Boche
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planes overhead. Searchlights swayed to and fro
over the sky in their efforts to find them, and the
brilliant shrapnel bursts which dotted the sky
were quickly followed by the boom, boom, and
crash as they came more directly over us. Soon
after this we drew into our abri and almost im-
mediately afterwards four bombs fell about
quarter of a mile off in an open field. They made
flashes which we could plainly see through the
end of our tunnel-like abri. The whole earth
shook, and we could feel the concussion of air
against our faces. Out we came again, but Mr.
Boche returned once more. This time instead of
dropping bombs he sailed over, fairly near a search-
light emplacement, and spat down a vindictive
little stream of glowing incendiary bullets from
his machine gun. Satisfied with this demon-
stration he sailed away to Hunland, soon followed
by a companion, whose destructive efforts we had
plainly seen at a neighboring town.
We have some active work ahead of us, and are
keen as ever about it. It was published in the
paper that Capt. James Norman Hall of this
squadron was using a new type of Nieuport plane
when he was captured. Did you see his good
article in the June Atlantic Monthly? Do read
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it. It is SO infinitely superior to these awful
articles we find in the Saturday Evening Post^
CollierSf etc., which make such painful mis-
statements and are so obviously written by a
short-story writer and not an experienced pilot.
Your loving Ham.
[Touquin"] June 30^6, 191 8
Dearest Lu,
ril slip in a line to you before it's time to go
out on our next patrol. It will take us some time
to feel thoroughly at home in this sector, and I
spend my spare thne staring at my map. You
know P. A. always used to make more or less fun
of the fact that he was the only one of the family
who ever took the slightest interest in maps.
Well, I wish he could see his little son H. these
days. My map is unquestionably the best friend
I have. It really is impracticable to carry a
map in your plane, because the minute you start
to look at it some wily Boche is "on your tail"
in an instant out of nowhere. Lu, it's painful
how many things you have to watch simultane-
ously in this game. Let me just enumerate some
of the more important things to do all at the same
time — I. Keep a continual watch out for Boches.
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2. Continually watch your patrol leader. 3. Look
at the ground to see where you are going and
where you want to go. 4. Watch out for the
steady fire of anti-aircraft shrapnel ("Archies").
5. Watch your instruments which give you the
dope on your motor, your altitude, etc. You
can easily see how staggering all this is to the
newcomer, and really I still place myself in that
class. I have not as yet had any combats. Fve
had some interesting times over the lines looking
for Huns, and dodging Archy, and have seen a
few Boches on several occasions. No longer are
there any of these trips alone over the lines. A
lone man is practically certain to be nailed. On
all our voluntary patrols we must go at least six
strong in formation. As "chasse" or fighting
planes our function is to patrol certain areas be-
tween certain times in search of Huns, and to
offer protection to Allied reconnaisance, r6glage,
or photographic planes. We also do "alert"
duty, during which time we sit around waiting a
telephone call reporting Boche planes over such
and such a place, at a certain altitude and going
in a certain direction. Then we hustle on up
to meet them.
We are living in a chateau with wonderful
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lawns, gardens, pine groves, and a small lake
full of fishl Did you ever hear of such luxury?
Will write when something exciting has happened.
Haven't heard from you for ages.
YourSf Ham.
[Touquin] July 7
Dear Mother,
I got a Boche today — or rather Jim Meissner
and I got one together, but as we were too far
inside their lines for our observation balloons to
see it, we shall probably not receive official credit.
Four of us attacked a single biplace Rumpler and
we all peppered away without result for several
minutes. He was fighting for his life and gave us
all a good fight! Suddenly it occured to me that
it would be much more to the point to get under
his tail where I should be out of range from his
rear gun and at the same time have a chance to
soak some shots into him at close range. Just
as I did so he started to dive, and at the same time
Jim Meissner appeared; the other two of our gang
had jammed guns and left the scrap. We both
shot at the Boche and a second later great hot,
red flames burst out from beneath his fuselage.
I shall never forget the sensation of seeing a
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Stream of flaming tracer bullets from my guns
sink into its body and almost instantly flames
bursting out as we dove at great speed through
the air. At 2000 meters both my guns had
jammed, so I left the battle pursued by a group
of Fokker monoplane fighters who had come up
in the meantime. Jim dove after the Boche a
little further, gave him a final salvo of shots and
followed me. He scared off a Boche whom he
said was hot on my tail. I had lost Jim, my only
thought was home for dear life before the mob
nailed me. We out-distanced them and Jim pulled
up beside me just as we crossed the lines. Golly,
I was glad to see him as I didn't know what had be-
come of him. We did not stay to see our victim
crash, but from his predicament at 2000 meters
from the earth we do not doubt that there are two
less Germans in the Imperial Air Service tonight.
H.
[Touquin] July 10
Dear Mammy,
Quentin and I were not assigned to the same
squadron. We are in the same group, conse-
quently operate from the same base and see each
other frequently. Let me tell you of the splendid
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coup de main he sprang today: While on patrol
with some eight or nine of his comrades over the
lines, the formation became broken up in some
quick manoeuvering. Q. suddenly found him-
self alone. After circling around- a few minutes
he saw three planes in formation not far away and
hastened to rejoin them, falling into place behind
them. It seemed a little queer that his leader
should be going so far within the enemy lines, but
he thought no more about it until the leader
made a sudden turn exposing to full view upon
his rudder — a large black cross 1 " Wrong again, "
said Q. to himself, but his brain kept right on
working. Sneaking close up behind the rear
man who either did not see him or supposed him
to be one of his friends, Q. took careful aim and
let him have a stream of bullets from his machine
gun. The plane wavered a second, then toppled
over and fell spinning in a spiral like a winged
stone. Q. reversed and headed for home at full
speed pursued by two bewildered Huns whom he
gradually left further and further behind as his
little Nieuport roared along. A quick backward
glance revealed his victim still spinning after a
fall of some nine or ten thousand feet; he then
disappeared in a cloud bank.
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Isn't that one of the most remarkable true tales
you ever heard? It's doubtful if his Boche is
confirmed — too far inside their lines. In my ex-
perience here I cannot recall a single instance
when the Boche would come out and fight in our
territory or even over the lines. Invariably we
must go to them. They are always to be found,
often in large numbers, but they seem to have the
homing instinct to a high degree. If our Boche
of the other day is confirmed, there are three of
us who will receive official credit. In a mix-up
like that it is often impossible to tell who de-
livered the telling shot, and often the men who
did but little shooting were the biggest factors in
the combat by forcing a situation or so distract-
ing the enemy's attention that some one else had
a chance to sneak in at close range and put in
some telling shots. I know my bullets hit him and
that he burst into flames as they entered his
fuselage, but I haven't an idea that mine were
the only ones that hit him, and I'm sure that
another boy's shots fired after I was through
(with both guns jammed) was what finished any-
thing there may have been left to finish. It was
really a very funny affair at first. Four of us
were peppering away indiscriminately, ineff^ect-
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fvely, while he banked his old ship up first
on one side, then the other in order to give
his observer a chance to shoot first at one of
us, then at another. The end of the scrap
would have been sad had we been fighting with
human beings, but I frankly confess that a thrill
of pleasure came over me as I saw the flames
burst out.
The tactics of air fighting are fairly compli-
cated and we frequently have to admire the old
Boche for his keen knowledge of them. They
say the Yanks are quick to learn, however. It
really looks as if the Huns had to be very careful
about losing men and planes. They do only what
is absolutely necessary, crossing the lines only when
a definite mission is to be performed. This policy
would be good if they were very insistent that
allied planes should not cross their lines, but they
seem somewhat indiff^erent about it.
Love^
Ham.
[Touquin] Sunday ^ July 14
Dear P. A.,
Today is the great French national holiday.
We are making a brave show of all the French
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and American flags we can scrape up. It's the
least we can do after the fine way they honored
our Fourth of July. As it happens, too, our
squadron is off" duty, because our splendid new
planes which arrived yesterday are being all fitted
up with guns and equipment, so until they are
ready we do nothing, having rid ourselves of our
old planes yesterday. Our new ships are the
famous Spads, single seater chasse planes of
two hundred and thirty horsepower, and very
well constructed. Our last planes were very
fast and handy, but now that they are gone
I will confess to you that they were not reli-
able planes. Every time we went far over the
lines we had qualms because the motors fre-
quently gave out and you never could tell when
it might happen.
A few days ago occurred the most important
event since our arrival on this sector. Some mail
from home arrived 1
In a little over a week now I shall be putting
on my second service stripe — one year of foreign
service. It's hard to realize that Fve been away
a whole year unless I judge the time by my long-
ing to see my family. When will these vain fools
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come to their senses? Not till they've had some
harder knocks than any they've yet received Fm
thinking.
Love to alU
Ham.
July iStb^ 1918
Dear Lu and Dickie,
This is the first chance Fve had to write since
your letter came about a week ago. Fve been
cheated out of a lot of action at a most interesting
time, because when our brand-new planes arrived,
mine turned out to be a lemon. After days of
struggling with it I had to have a new one, which
takes a few days to equip and get into shape.
They are splendid machines — 230-h.p. Spads
(monoplane) — and no experiment.
This is the queerest life you ever saw. One
week we live in a ch&teau, the next we are billeted
in dingy farmhouses. Sometimes we eat like
kings, again we almost starve because of all being
broke! You understand there's plenty of food
to be had, but occasionally our pay gets waylaid
and out of our last pay we may have bought uni-
forms, etc. Then we are all broke for a while
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until two months' jevenue suddenly comes, when
we are tremendously rich! In general, though,
I manage to keep ahead of the game. This letter
is hopeless; I can't seem to collect my thoughts,
so will try again soon.
Affectionately y
Ham.
[Sainte] Sunday, July 21
Mother Dear,
I was just sitting outside basking in the sun,
when three little girls came running by, playing
tag. They were all dressed in their very best,
and I, putting two and two together in my clever-
est manner, decided, "Ah, this must be Sunday I '*
It's the only way of telling around here. This
morning's patrol failed to materialize because of
the bad weather, which, however, was not quite
bad enough so that we could lie in bed and sleep.
No, we had to get out to the field and wait in
case it did clear up. We shall try again this
evening.
You never knew such an interesting sector with
such interesting things to see and others to do.
But I cannot give much in the way of detail.
From the air it is often very difficult to distinguish
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where the lines are or tell just what is going on.
What you do see are thousands of shell-holes, the
frequent flashing of guns, and a great quantity of
smoke; sometimes large heavy columns of it, more
often hundreds of little streaks of smoke.
Last night, we flew at a very low altitude, quite
p>eacefully for a while, until suddenly, woof! a
fierce shock rocked my little ship, and in a few
seconds there were many of those disturbing black
pufis all around and among us. We all began to
squirm and twist and that throws off* their aim,
but golly, how a close shot makes one jump when
it arrives unexpectedly! A group of six Huns ap-
peared, obviously trying to pick a scrap — be-
cause why? We were in their territory and half
a gale of wind was endeavoring to push us further
in. They knew that all they had to do was to
keep us bothered for a short while after which
our gasoline supply would be insufficient to carry
us home against that heavy wind. Even if they
did not shoot a single one of us down, we should
be forced to land in their territory and become
prisoners. But we saw the situation as clearly
as did they (for a wonder) and refused to delay
a single minute. You can see that it is important
to grasp the situation quickly and not to fight
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when conditions are strong against you, even
though there appears to be a tantalizing prey.
Fm afraid that that is how poor Quentin was lost.
You knew about his loss surely? I think he for-
got about the strong wind against him when he
saw the Boches. Undoubtedly he fought splen-
didly, but when it was over, he had drifted still
further into Bocheland and had insufficient fuel
to come out. Probably also they kept bothering
him every foot of his way.
Really it is almost laughable the way you move
and countermove, retreat or advance, in pre-
paring a big combat or "dog-fight." These do
not often happen because circumstances usually
make it foolhardy for one or the other patrol to
fight. The ordinary case is where a whole patrol
picks on a few planes over which it has an ad-
vantage of position etc. Then frequently an-
other formation comes to the rescue and you have
an unpremeditated "dog-fight."
You know I often think of old Cousin Sam
Langley, a man with the courage of his convic-
tions all right. Fve always admired him im-
mensely. And now Tm happy because my
fondest dreams have come true. War provides
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such a good justification for flying! Surely he
too has "heard the heavens filled with shouting,
and there rained a ghastly dew from the nations'
airy navies grappling in the central blue."
Your
Ham.
[Saints} July 29, 19 18
Dearest Mother,
During the past week we did not "prove"
much in the air — our squadron, I mean. Bad
weather frequently robbed us of patrols, and when
we did go out we seldom saw Boches. Once,
however, we saw more than we cared about.
Nine of us on patrol saw a formation of six Boches
planes below and our leader signalled to attack.
Just as we started down, however, eighteen more
Boches appeared over the edge of the clouds. We
saw at once that we were in a bad fix. We swung
round as quickly as possible, but they were by
this time close "on our tails" and the "tracers"
began to fly past us. I don't mind saying I was
thoroughly scared — twenty-four against nine is
poor odds especially when one is over enemy ter-
ritory. Looking back I could plainly distinguish
every feature of the enemy planes nearest me.
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They were single seats Fokker biplanes. We be-
came somewhat scattered in our hasty retreat, so
I can speak only for myself. I kept my motor
open wide and kicked my rudder to and fro which
gave my machine a zig-zag motion and made it a
difficult target. As luck would have it my plane
didn't suffer any bullet holes. Fortunately our
Spads are very fast: surely that was all that saved
us.
Mammy, you have no idea how exciting the
times are. Of course you know from the papers
exactly what has been happening about this time,
but I have had the good luck to go up to the front
one rainy day last week and see some of the most
interesting sights. I saw several of the steel
boats in which the Boches crossed the Marne.
Everywhere was debris and plunder of every kind.
On the way home we passed an ambulance train
and someone yelled "Hi, Ham Coolidgel" Look-
ing back I recognized Phil Shepley in a black
leather coat waving his arms. Our captain was
in a hurry so we couldn't stop.
Yesterday the motor of my beloved Spad went
to pieces, luckily over a French aerodrome near
the lines. Meanwhile I use the plane of a com-
rade en permission.
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A letter of greeting arrived from Uncle Arch.
Would that I might have seen him. Mother,
Doug. Campbell is now on his way home. If
he comes to Boston give him a time; he's one of
the finest boys in the world, besides being a great
friend of mine, and an "ace" with seven official
BochesI
Your loving^
Ham.
P.S.
Many thanks for congratulatory cable!
[5ainfs]] August 3
Dear P. A.,
I hasten to correct an account of my adventures
which gives me considerable pain! The Herald
obviously had my name confused with that of an
observer in one of the biplace observation groups.
I do not drive a big French biplane, but a small
one. It is not equipped with four guns. I did
not turn upon seven attackers and send one down
in flames . . . only a biplace Salmson observa-
tion machine fulfills the described conditions.
The Globe account is correct. It is true that I
have oflicial credit for downing a biplace Rumpler.
It is nothing but pure luck that my bullets hap-
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pened to be the ones to bring out the flames, for
certainly the other two boys deserve exactly as
much credit for downing it as I do. Also it is
the sort of thing that happens every day and they
shouldn't have stuck in my picture and written
all that junk. It's a pity.
Lately we have had some close calls in the air.
Once at least it was due to bad judgment on our
part . . . the other time a patrol of Fokker bi-
planes came "down the sun" on us ... we were
very lucky to get away alive. Those canny
Boches play their cards well, and I think we have
learned much from them. We are always ready
to accept a battle when conditions are equally
favorable to both sides. They won't as a rule.
Aug. 4, 1918
Dear Mother,
You speak about Joe's doping the end of this
mess . . . well, developments do seem to indi-
cate that Germany's off'ensive power is about
over, and without off'ensive ability has Germany
got any hold on her people? I am hoping to go
up to Chamery where Quentin is reported to
have been buried.
Last Monday we got mixed up in another hor-
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rid "dog-fight" with a large flock of those little
Fokker monoplace biplanes. We were practically
engaged in the combat before we realized that
there were two of them to every one of us. They
seemed to come from nowhere. Two of our boys
had hair-breadth escapes, but the rest of us
managed to clear out without getting "shot up."
Of course the one morning my machine was out
of commission proved to be the only time in the
week that our patrol had an advantage of posi-
tion on a Boche patrol. Our boys claim two of
them.
They gave me official credit for the biplace
Rumpler three of us brought down together, but
why make a fuss about it? People are doing it
every day, so if they would only report the facts
without the trimmings it would be all right.
More and more one sees that the whole thing is
mostly luck. Some of our best pilots have never
had the luck to be in a position where they could
have shot a Boche down.
We had a little fun working low over the in-
fantry last week, and I think it is immensely
satisfactory work even if a little risky. At
times, we dove down on our sides close enough
to see the expressions on the faces of our soldiers.
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They were apparently full of enthusiasm, and
frequently on automobile trips to the front they
have told us that it has a very good moral effect
on our troops to see their own planes overhead,
very close. We did not actually shoot up the
Boche infantry as I should like to have done, as
we were on purely protective missions, and few
in number, but I hope they give us some offensive
work. You ought to see the effect of the Allied
advance on everyone's spirits, it would do your
heart good.
Today we had lunch with an American aviator
in the French flying corps, who recently escaped
from Germany after ten months* imprisonment on
his third attempt! You could have heard a
crumb fall on the floor as we sat listening to him
talk, reticently enough, about his escape. Work-
ing on the roads one noon, he made a break for
the woods under a volley of bullets from the
sentries. He stayed in the Black Forest travel-
ling only at night, and gradually made his way to
the Swiss border, suffering hideously from hunger
and thirst. He ate raw potatoes only. The last
kilometer was the whole thing because of the
triple sentry line. He succeeded in slipping by
the first one, then killed the next two with a
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knife, whereupon a hail of bullets came flying all
around. The night was inky black, however, so
they were all wild. And he walked to a Swiss
village, weak from starvation and minus his
trousers which he had lost in swimming a river
before reaching the border.
Good night, Mammy,
Your Ham.
Aug. sth, 191 8
Dearest Lu,
I fear you have given me up for a bad job —
at least I should fear it, were it not that your dear
letters continue to arrive regularly. Thank good-
ness you're that kind of a feller.
We are just beginning to fatten up into normal
looking humans again. You see some fool pay-
master went and lost our pay checks for two
months and the whole crowd soon became penni-
less — pardon me, centimeless is more correct.
The result was that our mess became poorer and
poorer as our credit at the local butcher shops
waned, till finally the food was such that we could
hardly eat it. Now, however, one of the two miss-
ing month's pay has arrived and we are all getting
fat again.
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Jove how those guns are pounding away! Tm
sitting here on the floor of our rotten little farm-
house room, and writing on my trunk at the win-
dow. The ceiling hangs very low and we aren't
flying; perhaps the low ceiling accounts for the
way the sound carries. The front has been run-
ning away so fast we can hardly find it!
Each evening they post up on a door (bulletin
board) the "service" for the following day. It
might read like this: "High Patrol, 17.30 —
19.15 o'clock, all available pilots." An hour or
so beforehand we all get together to dope out
what formations we will fly in, what flight leaders
we will follow, and what the tactics will be.
Frequently we fly not all together in one mass,
but in two or perhaps even three separate groups
working together. This is very good dope if you
have enough men. One evening I remember we
"jumped" a patrol of six Boches below us only
to have eighteen more sail down on us from above
a ledge of cloud, and we had a hot time pulling
out of it. They almost always work that way.
Time and again we have been in the act of at-
tacking a tempting morsel when intuition
prompted us to look back of us and far above —
/a, la! — two patrols of seven, or perhaps one there
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and another way off to one side. It's almost like
a game of checkers at times. Every movement
of one unit produces a certain move from the
other units that may be in the sky at the time —
this manoeuvring coming to a climax when a gen-
eral combat develops or one or the other gang
clears out in a hurry. Curiously enough a "dog-
fight, " or general engagement, almost always splits
even as far as losses are concerned. We do not
have many of them. Often our job is to act as a
protecting escort to photography or reconnais-
sance planes. Then we often get into scraps.
P. A. just sent me some clippings from Boston
papers in which they have some painful junk
about me and worst of all a big picture. L., I
hope you'll do your best to squelch all that 'rah,
'rah stuff, because they always get things twisted
or exaggerate disgustingly. It is true that I and
two other boys shot down a biplace Rumpler in
flames, but under perfectly ordinary circum-
stances, under which the most romantic mind
could never paint us as "heroes." We had a
fairly exciting scrap for five minutes or so as they
held us off with their rear guns. Once we closed
in, it was all over but the cheering, except that a
bunch of Fokkers dropped down and chased us
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back home. It does give you a thrill to see one
of those heathens burst into flames under your
fire! You know, Lu, you can actually see your
bullets because one in every five is a "tracer"
which leaves a streak of smoke, and naturally
these come in rapid succession. In a hot combat
these smoky streaks can be seen for a long dis-
tance, going in every direction.
The village where Q. is reported to have been
buried is now in Allied hands, so I am going to
try and get up there m an auto the first chance.
You never saw such a mess as the whole country
is in up there.
Affectionately^ Ham.
[Saints} Augitst ii, 191 8
Dear Nonie,
... I have been terribly busy in my letter-
writing time because of having to take care of
both Bill Chalmers* and Quentin Roosevelt's af-
fairs . . . making inventories and writing letters,
and attending to all their mail, etc. Then we
have had a little flying thrown in on the side!
Just at present Fm a hard luck kiddo. My first
Spad was no good. My second one went beauti-
fully for a while till one day a valve broke and
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tore my motor to pieces. They put in a new
motor and we spent days getting it to run right.
Yesterday we finally thought we had it au point
so I started cheerfully out for the lines. A few
minutes later I felt a drizzle of water in my face
and suspected it was raining but no, the water
was hot. Then a pipe burst and the cockpit was
flooded with boiling water from the cooling sys-
tem. Luckily I was able to land at a French
field where they fixed up the pipe and I gaily
started out a second time. Again a drizzle of
water, this time from a different place, a plug
had come out of the water jacket and let it all
out again. My temperature began to rise and be-
fore I finally made a good landing field the poor old
motor was almost grillL A wooden plug in the
hole held the water sufficiently for me to limp
back home the most disgusted man you ever saw.
This morning I flew up to a little field near the
lines where I took to a motorcycle to look for
Quentin's grave. Well, what do you know . . .
in passing through a small village all shot to
pieces, I suddenly saw Rose Peabody walking
down the street! You can imagine the surprise
of meeting her. Gosh it was swell! It turned
out that her mobile hospital was located there.
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Then on to look for poor Q/s grave which had
been reported but never officially confirmed, to
be at Chamery. I can say that, as it was pub-
lished in all the papers. After scouting around
for a while we finally found it near the town.
The Americans had fixed up his grave decently.
It had a plain wooden cross, but there was a little
fence around the grave and some wild flowers
upon it. Nearby were a few charred remains of
his machine where it fell, and a hole some three
feet deep which it had dug into the ground where
it had crashed. Nonie, that*s what makes an im-
pression on one in this war. Bursting shrapnel,
onion rockets, machine gun bullets and Boche
planes give you a start at first, but you get used
to all that. What you can never get used to,
though, is to have your very best friends "go
West."
From there we could hear all around us the
pound, pound of big guns, and of a sudden a
sort of shallower whang, whang, as the black
Boche anti-aircraft shrapnel clustered around a
group of our planes in the distance. All you can
actually see of the lines from a place like that is
the sausage balloons here and there along the
lines. . . . And the question on the lips of all
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the "dough-boys" is "What do you think of the
Liberty planes?**
Day before yesterday I went to Paris for a few
hours of pleasure. I saw Quentin's sister-in-law
and his brothers, Archie and Ted, both wounded
as I suppose you heard. Arch is leaving shortly
for home, and he says that he will go to see Mother
which would be great. Also you knew that
Douglas Campbell, the first American trained
"Ace*' is on the water. We are very good friends
and he, too, promised to drop in at lo West Hill
Place if he could work it. . . .
Ham.
\jCoincy} Sunday^ Aug. 17, 191 8
Dearest Mother,
The nice gray letters keep reaching me even
on days when there is no mail for the rest of the
squadron I They all howl with rage when that
happens. Our little operations office is a tent
out at the flying field. It serves not only as a
shelter for the stenographer and clerks who do
the paper work, but also as a general loafing-
place for lazy pilots, and it is there between
patrols or while awaiting special calls that our
letters come. . . .
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Our work has been continuing but not too satis-
factorily. Last Wednesday I think it was, we
were coming out of Germany and saw a formation
coming towards us out of France. We took it
for granted for some reason that they were Spads
— and likewise they apparently concluded that
we were friendly FokkersI Only when we were
abreast of each other did we each suddenly real-
ize that we were enemies. We swung around like
a flash and pointed our planes down in a mad
dive after the fleeing Fokkers, shooting angry
streams of smoking tracers after them, but they
had the start and we could not get close enough
to do any damage. It was exasperating because
it was a rare chance. Yesterday a very sad thing
happened. As our formation was flying towards
the lines they spotted a group of Huns "in the
sun" above, and started to dive down away from
them. As our boys dove they were naturally
looking back over their shoulders watching the
enemy, when suddenly two of our very best
pilots collided. The wings were stripped cleanly
from one machine which fell like a stone. The
other had the wings on one side badly damaged.
He was seen to go down in a slow spiral under
more or less control. Everybody hoped that he
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might have landed safely, but later investigation
proved that they were both smashed to pulp. It's
such a hideous way to lose men. . . .
Yesterday, however, there was one bright spot in
a rather gloomy week. I walked over from our
auxiliary field to the nearby hospital and found
Rose Peabody. I spoke of meeting her just for a
second once before, but this time I stayed for lunch,
and a good old chat. It was delightful seeing such
a nice person again. She looks bright and very
cheerful, but also very thin I thought. She ad-
mitted that they have had some pretty hectic ex-
periences with: — shells, gas, a flood, bombs, and
quantities of patients! No wonder she looked thin.
Mammy, why didn't you tell them to build
some Liberty cbasse planes? All these beautiful
new Liberty biplace machines don't help us poor
combat pilots any. We ride only single seater
(monoplace) machines.
Monday. 1 have just come back from an auto
trip close up to the lines to visit the graves of
those poor boys who collided. The shells were
bursting close at times. A few hundred yards
away they were shelling a battery furiously.
Good-nigbt dearest MotbeVy
Your H.
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Deauville, August 25, 191 8
Sunday again, dear Mother, and Tm sitting
gazing out upon a calm blue sea, with a cloudless
blue sky overhead, and a hot sun beating down
upon a long sandy beach dotted with gay colored
sunshades and clamoring bathers. Oh, where am
I? Why, just nearing the Archie puffs that de-
note the lines? — No, wrong, Fm at Deauville in
the Normandy hotel on a 3 day permission. It's
perfectly heavenly here, a complete change from
that awful hole. I only wish my "air eyes"
could penetrate 3 thousand miles across that
ocean instead of a paltry 5 or 6 miles. I would so
love to see you sitting down to Sunday dinner at
Squam and hear the multifarious voices that have
always accompanied such an occasion. You know
your letters have made me almost live at Squam
for the last few weeks. Often in these calm hot
evenings Fve wandered out into a newly shorn
wheat-field, propped myself against one of the
neatly bundled shocks of wheat and gazed at
the moon! The friendly shocks at precise in-
tervals around have been my companions, and
they are so sympathetic. They appreciate what
Squam means and who are the dear people there.
They realize that we live in a very dreary, mon-
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otonous place and that our food is so infested with
filthy flies that our tummies have gone sadly
back on us. They know why all our regular op-
erations have been suspended, and why we have
been doing mock battle manoeuvres to while
away the time (no one else does, though). They
are omniscient; they could even tell me why
our motors are continually breaking down and
causing trouble and keeping willing pilots from
accompanying their companions on patrols over
the lines. It's so good to have somebody who
realizes all those things.
This is the gayest, noisiest, prettiest place Tve
seen for a long time. Chester Snow and I are
going in for a good swim this afternoon, after-
wards going to "Charley's bar" where we pick
up Sigourney Thayer and Harry Cabot for dinner.
After that we shall probably go to the opera at
the casino, or to a concert in one of the music
halls.
Not a single noisy motor troubles the sky, not
a solitary gun shakes the earth, and comparatively
few American soldiers obstruct the landscape! All
the latest Paris fashions may be seen for the
trouble of taking a stroll upon the promenade or
the beach.
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I should awfully have liked to see the Nor-
mants again, but I simply bad to have a complete
change of scene and I needs must see the old
ocean once more after months and months of
flat, and often devastatec' plains.
Bless yoUf
Ham.
Sept. 4, 1 91 8
Dearest Mother,
Your letters come in precious profusion — but
often with the dates all twisted. Just a few days
ago I got letters of about the last of June — since
getting several dating well into August. . . .
If we have been for some weeks living a very
dull life of almost complete and discouraging idle*
ness, we are now very much in the war again.
That is all I can tell you now, but you will surely
know more soon. Last evening it was very calm
and clear and we were sent "over" to try and
bring down a certain enemy observation balloon.
All was going beautifully — but when we ap-
proached the place we saw that it wasn't up —
much to our disgust. Shooting down balloons is
pretty risky work — a good deal more so than
combat with enemy planes. You see they send
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up a fierce barrage of machine gun fire, Archies,
flaming "onion** rockets, etc., in a circle around
the old sausage. Today we patrolled nearly two
hours, lying in wait for some of the photographic
planes that come over quite often, and which we
expected today — nothing turned up. That con-
dition won't last long, as other patrols have en-
countered all kinds of Boche aircraft. Supper
time — nice camp-like food in a tent — and not
so many flies on account of the cooler weather.
Your loving,
H.
[No date}
Dearest Mother,
By good luck I am able to slip in a between-
times letter to you to tell you that all goes well.
I never felt better in my life, am a little thinner
perhaps, but still as keen as ever about the work.
They speak of making me a squadron com-
mander when I have a little more experience — I
dread the day — because a squadron commander
has so much paper work, etc., that he can hardly
ever fly. Many of them are glad, but I want to
keep flying above all else and do not care for ad-
vancement except for your sake.
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Our machines are very fast, solid, and fairly
dependable, far diflFerent from those awful fire-
traps we were using before and on one of which
Q. was shot down.
The Liberty looks good and I predict that very
soon it will have become a counting factor in
Allied aviation.
Sunday, Sept. 8, 191 8
Dearest Mother,
Our afternoon patrol has just been called oflF
on account of rain, so I retire to our little barrack
to write in comfort. The barrack is only tem-
porary as we are to move into tents tomorrow.
The tents don*t particularly appeal at this time
of year, but they have the one great advantage
of being in a little pine wood and pine woods al-
ways smack of Squam and home. Anyway, it is
a thousand per cent better than being billeted, —
to my way of thinking.
We are fairly close to the lines and it's great to
be able to get there in a few minutes. We can
see the sights and hear the sounds — day and
night — that make you feel really in the war.
In fact, one of our chief amusements in the even-
ing is to stand outside looking off towards the
lines where intermittent flashes light the sky for
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a brief second and low thunder follows soon after.
Occasionally a searchlight beam roams the sky
like a lost pilot looking for home. Then at clock-
like intervals from Bocheland a string of fiery
balls sails slowly upwards and fades out. These
are variously interpreted, but they surely are
signals of some kind. Less frequently than these
signal lights parachute flares go up, burst out in
a brilliant flood of light, and sink slowly down to
earth.
But that isn't flying, is it? On the whole fly-
ing is what preoccupies us most. Each night
about nine o'clock the schedule for the next day
comes in. From one corner of the dark barrack
comes a cheer from the second flight who learn
that their first patrol is not until 1 1 a.m. — while
a dismal groan from the other side reveals the
fact the first and third flights go on at daybreak!
Inwardly, though, they are glad because that's
a good time of day to fly. The early bird is
pretty apt to catch the worm.
Well, yesterday I had a little excitement. My
flight was on patrol but it was my turn to stay
behind alone and patrol this side of the lines for
enemy photography planes who take advantage of
every opportunity to sneak over and snap some
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pictures. For an hour and a quarter I had been
up very high (5700 meters) and was about to
come home when some white Archie puflFs below
caught my attention. I stared hard, and there
sure enough were two biplane machines headed
towards in our lines. I doped out my plan
of attack and moved over between them and the
lines — still far above them. Once directly be-
hind them, I throttled down slightly and took a
headlong dive of nearly a mile. The wires and
struts of my plane simply screeched from the
wind pressure but I wanted to get behind and be-
low as quickly as possible so as not to be seen.
About halfway down, however, the back man
saw me coming and he swung off instantly into
his lines. That shot spoiled, I kept on going
for the front man who evidently had not yet seen
me. My attack had been calculated for the back
man so it naturally was not right for the front
one who saw me before I could reach his "blind
spot.*' He swung towards home in a big circle
under full power with me trailing along behind
trying desperately to get under his tail. Mine
was a borrowed plane and the old motor suddenly
began to splutter. I was mad as a hatter, but
chased on, getting slightly closer. He decided it
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was too close so he banked over his machine and
the gunner opened up on me. I swung behind
his elusive tail and blazed away at him. The old
tracers flew back and forth that way for some
minutes but my misbehaving motor would not
pull hard enough to give me a close range shot.
Then it suddenly occurred to me that I was
several kilometers in Bocheland and alone —
with a failing motor I Obviously I could not
make home but I knew of another field nearer to
that place. My Boche had evidently decided it
was dinner time for I last saw him gliding down
towards his aerodrome; I, too, had an empty
feeling in my tummy which a sudden burst of
Archie shots only accentuated. The old motor
got worse and worse as I sunk down and down —
but now I was safely across the lines and well on
the way to the aerodrome which I barely made
with the dying gasp from an almost red-hot
motor. The C. O. brought me home after lunch
in his smooth running Cadillac. Another re-
minder of happy days!
It was a fierce disappointment not to have
nailed one of those Rumplers. Perhaps my own
plane (temporarily out for repairs) would have
given me the chance — but then, it's all luck.
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France, Sept. 14*6, 191 8
Dear Roger,
This is about the first time Fve had a chance
to answer all those swell letters you wrote me from
Squam trying to make me jealous! Well, I have
to admit you succeeded pretty well, you monkey.
No, when I cussed you out for not writing, those
letters were not lost at all. A big bunch of them
were delayed somewhere, probably on account of
moving around (which we naturally have to do a
good deal), so when I arrived here I found a whole
fistful of your letters waiting. Pretty nice I
Jove, it must have been wonderful going up
old Passy, Whiteface, etc., again. I can remem-
ber when we boobs, knowing nothing about camp-
ing at first, made our initial trips up those moun-
tains, and what scrapes we ran into — we couldn't
light fires, couldn't cook stuflF well when we did
get them lit, and ran out of grub long before we
expected to. We had a heluva time at first —
but loved it just the same.
Dear old Mister — I wish I could take you
with me on one of our trips "over" these days. I
guarantee it would be the most interesting hour
and forty-five minutes you ever spent. At least
it hits me that way. The other day we patrolled
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not three miles high as we often do, but just above
the tops of the trees I We could see everything
that went on below, only it was a little like try-
ing to distinguish objects by the roadside when you
go by in an auto at 130 miles an hour. A brief
glimpse of something and you are past — then
something else, and so on. In one place we saw
an American battery of 75*s right out in the open
field banging away to beat the band. The Ameri-
can uniforms, however, are very hard to see against
the ground. You don't see many men actually.
What you do see are flashes of flame, puffs of
smoke and great geysers of mud and rocks where
shells hit and explode. Then we passed over
Bocheland. We weren't sure it was Bocheland till
we suddenly heard ra, ta, ta — ra, ta, ta, ta, ta!
Then there was no question about it. They were
shooting at us from the woods, but darn it, we
couldn't see those machine gun nests. You'd
be surprised what good acrobacy you can do when
machine gun bullets and shrapnel begin to fly
about you I The fellow behind me got seven
bullets in his plane and said he saw a shrapnel
burst right on top of me. I didn't realize it came
that close, but later I found a few places where
splinters had torn the linen. The other fellow
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was not hurt. When we come home we write a
detailed report of every single thing we noticed
on the ground, stating just where and when and
how, etc. . . .
One rather nice stunt was inaugurated a few
days ago. They issue us packages of cigarettes
all bundled up in padded cloth with a note at-
tached. We fly right down over our attacking
troops and chuck them overboard. The in-
fantry boys get the cigarettes and read the note
which makes them feel fine. It says that they
are advancing wonderfully — that the air service
is right with them, and to keep going like Hell or
something after that order. Anyway, it helps
keep up their spirits.
Get husky and wise at Groton this year, old
boy — and remember that even if your old
brother isn*t there to cuss you out all the time,
he*s thinking of you often.
Love,
Ham.
[Jiembercourt] September 15*6, 191 8
Dear Mother,
To try and describe the events of the past week
in any sort of a complete way would be impossible
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and unpermissible. Do look back at your news-
paper clippings of about this date and you will
know the general history of events. Perhaps I
can add some details to help out a little, though
it is only from the point of view of a pilot who can
see but little of all that takes place. It's a little
like trying to recall all that one sees from an ex-
press train window after the journey is over, only
we have the added difficulty of having to pay
considerable attention to our little express train
itself. We are the engineers as well as the pas-
sengers.
Thursday morning we went out in groups of
threes or fours, flying at a height of perhaps two
hundred feet. Our object was to see everything
possible on the ground and to try and establish
the location of the lines. I headed a group of
four, one on either side a little in back of me, and
one a few hundred meters above and behind.
Well, you never saw such a sight or heard such
sounds. We started down our lines just at their
edge and every second came flashes and white
puffs from our batteries. We were so close that
every explosion rocked us about frantically and
often threatened to dash us into the tree tops.
In fact sometimes our little ships were almost
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unmanageable. Just below us in the open field
was an American battery firing madly at an ob-
jective we knew well. We could see very few
men actually. The color of our uniforms is very
hard to distinguish against the ground, and we
were tossing about madly in the writhing air
currents. By this time we were quite far in
Bocheland. Burning villages, dumps and store-
houses stood out sharply. On we went, but now
over woods again — Boche or Allied?
I could see horses mounted by officers rushing
to and fro on the roads, and trucks, wagons and
men moving madly along, but dared not fire on
them for fear of their being Americans. You
simply couldn't distinguish their uniforms. Then
the party began for us. The Archies opened up
full blast, hanging hideously close, when suddenly,
sharp and distinct through the noise of our motor
came the unmistakable ra ta ta ta ta of machine
gun bullets. I thought a Boche might be on my
tail and began to squirm wildly about, looking
back all the time. No one was there except the
other three boys who were also squirming. Of
course they were shooting at us from those ma-
chine gun nests in the woods, but as they used
no tracer bullets I could not see where they came
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from. One man (on my left) got seven bullets
in his plane and had to leave. It was really
pretty hot work patrolling so low — but it was
intensely interesting. The air was filled with
Allied aircraft of all types and strange to say not
a Boche appeared. Since then, however, they have
come out in large numbers. One of our four had
left already, another had a panne de moteur,
and just squeaked over the lines. The last two
of us then started back against a heavy wind with
Archies breaking all around us and occasional ra
ta ta ta's from the ground. No sooner had we
crossed the lines than my motor groaned and
died! Down I went into a little valley and had a
nasty time worming my way into a tiny patch of
good ground past telegraph wires, barbed wire en-
tanglements, and shell holes. I came to rest not
four feet from one of the last named. A Spad
is heavy and lands fast at best, so it's no fun to
have forced landings. From here I walked to a
French divisional headquarters where I found the
other boy who had panned previously. We tried
desperately to communicate with home but the
wires were too busy, so by supper time we were
still there. At this point the General emerged
from his holy of holies, greeted us most cordially
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and invited us to mess with him and his staff —
and at the threshold of the mess-hall insisted that
we go in first! These Frenchmen certainly beat
the world for politeness. At dinner the conver-
sation was entirely military and most interest-
ing. Also, we were able to tell the General
several interesting things we had noticed on
our patrol that afternoon. The feeling between
French and Americans is wonderful. Apparently
they can work together in perfect harmony on
any kind of a job. In fact Fm not sure that they
don't often make a point of mixing them up in
military operations.
At ten o'clock we had not succeeded in getting
in touch with our squadron, so the adjutant sent
us home in the General's limousine! You can
imagine what fun it was comparing notes with all
the others next morning. It was then that we
learned of the beautiful little coup de main made
by Lieut. K. of one of the other squadrons (there
are four of them) in our group. Patrolling low
over some woods he saw a convoy of Boches on
the road below. He dove down with both guns
blazing, and saw horses and men in mad confusion.
Several horses dropped, others jumped up against
wagons and trucks, stopping the whole convoy.
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He then raced home, told his news and a bombing
squadron was immediately sent to the spot where
a few well-placed shots eflfectively stopped the
whole outfit, most of which was soon after cap-
tured by the advancing infantry.
Fve been kicking myself ever since for not real-
izing that much of what I saw was Boche — but
our primary object was visual reconnaissance and
it*s a hideous thing to fire on one's own troops.
You see it isn't like hanging above the show in a
balloon. At that low altitude one's field of vision
is so restricted that it changes every second.
You travel a hundred and thirty miles an hour,
rocking and tossing about and squirming around
to avoid the deadly shrapnel and sputtering bul-
lets — so it's very hard to see things clearly!
Since Thursday the drive has been going splen-
didly as you know. Our boys have accounted
for several Boches and done some fine protective
and defensive work. They have been meeting
more and more hostile planes, but etc.! The
words "Liberty plane" are often heard these days.
But I can best tell of things that I myself have
seen, and yesterday I saw things I shall never
forget.
The Captain invited me to go with him in his
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car to X where Tom Crocker was en panne.
Now this place had been in Allied hands for just
a day and a half. The plane landed among the
hills back of the town which for four long years
the Boche had occupied. When we finally got
to the plane by walking about a mile from the
car, we found it would take an hour or so to fix
it. We left the mechanics at work on it and
started out to look around. The hills were just
riddled with German trenches and battery posi-
tions. Every step through the woods revealed
dugouts^ "pill boxes," trenches and gun em-
placements. We had to be terribly careful be-
cause the Boche leave every conceivable kind of
infernal machines, mines, time bombs, etc., when
they get a chance. The day before, eight French-
men had been killed by touching a hidden wire
or picking up an interesting object to which was
attached a wire communicating with a bomb of
some kind. The place was just thick with wires
on the ground — on trees, in fact everywhere.
Of course most of them were telephone wires. In
one concrete dugout the walls were three feet
thick, a partition separated it into two small
rooms in one of which was a switchboard with
hundreds of wires. In the next room a stool and
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desk were placed in front of a narrow slit which
looked out down a slope and off for many miles
into our territory. It was a splendid observation
post for artillery riglage. In other dugouts were
comfortable bunks with stoves. The whole thing
impressed one by its solidity and permanence.
We dared not go down deep into any of the count-
less subterranean passages, but even on the surface
we found some very interesting things — some of
which might help along your precious scrap-book.
There was any quantity of ammunition of all
kinds, and countless other things.
Remember we only covered a few hundred
yards in those miles of unexploited wonders, and
it was interesting that we were the first Allies in
some of those spots, or at least I think we were
(and have good reasons). When Tom's plane had
been fixed and he was safely off for home, we
started back in the car. Our way lay through
X — the town just reoccupied by the French.
Two thousand civilians had stayed there all those
years of Boche occupancy, and only the day be-
fore had the French soldiers come marching in.
They told us that when the women saw their sol-
diers coming they rushed out into the streets and
threw their arms around their necks. From every
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window flew French flags. All the civilians
dressed in their Sunday best walked around with
happiness in their faces, drawn thin and haggard
from all they had been through. In the Square
place were many French soldiers and civilians
and a brass band was playing. It pleased me
that in spite of the fact that there were no Ameri-
cans present and they hadn't seen us, they played
the "Stars and Stripes Forever** as one of their
tunes. Then followed the Marseillaise and we
went home with lumps in our throats and little
shivers up our spines. The spirit of these people
is so wonderful.
It's supper time, dear Mammy.
Your
Ham.
September 25, 191 8
Dearest Mother,
Nothing particularly exciting of late. We have
had a run of rainy weather which has kept us on
the ground. Even on the ground we are busy.
Gun sights to line up at frequent intervals, ma-
chine guns to keep limbered up, countless little
adjustments on the plane which need one's atten-
tion, and pistol practice, etc., if one wants. I
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want to, because I have not got a string of Boches
to be proud of or satisfied with, and every little
way in which one can train oneself in spare time
is pure gain.
I am a "flight leader" now. A squadron con-
tains three flights of six to eight planes and pilots
each. These flights usually operate individually,
following the daily operation schedule, and some-
times we even split up our flight, working in two
groups of three or one of four and one of two at
different altitudes. Last week the only time we
met Boches at all was when we outnumbered
them so that they turned tail. You'd be sur-
prised how hard it is to get Boches. Conditions
are so very seldom right for a good combat at
equal odds. I go out alone on voluntary patrols
whenever I get a chance, but unless one is an
"ace" he is not allowed to cross the lines alone.
My chance of course is the venturesome photo-
graphic who tries to sneak across the lines un-
noticed. I told you about attacking two, but
not, or probably not, succeeding in shooting either
one down. This morning I had a lone photo-
graphic all picked out, but my plane simply could
not climb up to anywhere near his level. He
must have been between six and seven thousand
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meters up I Then I carefully manoeuvered into
the sun over another plane which looked Boche-y
and a steep dive brought me right upon him in a
few seconds all in position to fire, and unseen.
But it turned out to be a French Spad of a smaller
size than ours. He had not seen me approach,
and noticed me only when I was right on his
tail. He was so surprised that he did about
three turns of vrille before collecting his wits
enough to recognize my plane I
Your loving
Ham.
Sunday f Sept. 2% 191 8
Dear Lu,
Last Wednesday night our program for the
next morning was announced. Our squadron
would take off at 5.15 a.m. (by flares), proceed to
the lines, and, precisely, at 5.45 attack simul-
taneously the enemy observation balloons in a
certain sector. Those down in flames, we might
finish out the patrol protecting our own balloons
or doing such work as might demand attention.
Now, Lu, you'll understand why I tell everything
hereafter in the first person. It is because of the
darkness at that hour which made concerted
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action impossible. We couldn't even see the
planes when we started. Also you are alone in a
cbasse machine even though you generally operate
in groups.
At eleven o'clock p.m. the barrage started, — a
barrage that few of us will ever forget — surely it
was one of the heaviest in the history of the war.
You can imagine the effect on one's dreams! We
did manage to sleep though, until the orderly
woke us all sharp at four. We tucked away a
good hot breakfast amid the time honored re*
marks about "better make a meal of it, because
it will probably be our last" and that sort of
junk. At 5.05 we were sitting in our Spads, all
groomed up for the occasion, with our motors
warming up lazily. It was pitch dark save for
the row of searchlights which illuminated the take-
off. One by one we taxied down to the path of
light and took off into the blackness beyond. I
had a hideous second just as I left the ground,
when I missed a collision by inches. That was
soon forgotten in the anticipation of our work.
Once above the field I looked around. The mist
hung heavily below particularly in the valleys.
For just a brief second "Is it worth while to go
on; I won't be able to see a thing and besides
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," then a loud "Hell, let's go!** came from
somewhere else within, and off we went for the
lines. In spite of the mist there wasn't a shadow
of doubt in which general direction to sail. In
about five minutes I had reached the barrage and
vainly sought Verdun, which was shrouded in mist
below. My mind just swam with the enormity of
what went on.
As far as I could see to the west and southeast
thousands of flashes glared out of the mist below
in alternate glows and twinkles. It seemed al-
most a colossal band of flame about a kilometer
wide. I circled round to get my bearings before
passing through that magnificent extended erup-
tion of thousands of volcanoes. The river was
unmistakable because of the streak of mist,
whiter than the rest, which hung close upon it.
Then the lines were unmistakable because of the
barrage. With this dope well digested, I took a
big breath and plunged in. An airplane motor
makes a roar, but it was as nothing compared to
the boom of the guns immediately below. My
little ship rocked and shivered in the blast, and
at times I could actualfy see shells fly by. A
faint, sudden streak or thread of pink against the
darkness was all I could see but I knew it must
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be a shell passing. I marvelled that in such a
rain of flying shells a plane could escape being hit;
only one man in all of our aviation did get hit by
our own shells that day. Now I knew that our
balloon positions must lie beyond where those
shells were landing. Below I could see a dark
stretch of ground, while ahead the flashes ap-
peared again. No Man's Land was quickly passed
and I was over their lines. The flashes were
clearer and the air was full of strange manifesta-
tions entirely new to me. Several green flaming
balls would slowly ascend in one place, while red
or blue rockets glowed at another. Then funny
whistling masses of flame would glow out. I kept
on but could make out almost nothing distinct
which would guide me.
The East was just beginning to light up a little
and I saw a patch of woods where I knew one of
their balloons ought to be. I circled round be-
hind them and came down fairly low to look.
Nothing was there in the shape of a sausage
balloon. All right, let's look for the next one.
But no, not so easy. The Boches had been willing
to let me come over their wood, but they didn't
want to let me go back. Suddenly a line of
green dots whizzed up in front of me. Then an-
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Other and still more. They looked like streams
of scintillating ghostly fire and waved gracefully
back and forth in a semicircle ahead as does the
water from a battery of powerful fire hose. Ob-
viously I would have to pass through that impres-
sive pyrotechnic display. They were using all
incendiary bullets in their old machine guns.
Most of the streams seemed to issue from one
spot in the woods, so I thought I would at least
show them I had some fireworks on my ship too.
I pointed her nose straight at the spot and let
drive a stream of incendiaries from my balloon
gun. Instantly their old barrage stopped and I
lost no time in beating it! Looking back I saw
them again but they all went behind me.
After looking all around I simply could not find
a single Boche balloon. It was getting lighter
now and I could just begin to distinguish towns
and roads and forests below. As long as I was
over there anyway, I decided to have my rtioney's
worth out of the occasion. I could see occasion-
ally dark objects sail by me and sometimes with
streams of fire shooting out ahead and down.
They were my friends. I dropped down very
low to look around, and immediately noticed a
long line of dark objects on the road below. It
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was a supply train. I thought it must be Boche,
but wouldn't it be hideous to shoot up an Allied
train? How my old heart just hammered with
excitement as I dove down beside that road, not
fifty feet high, and recognized those Boche hel-
mets I In a twinkling I was past them, gained a
little height to turn in safety, and came diving
down upon them from the rear. I just held both
triggers down hard while the fiery bullets flew
streaming out of the two guns. Little glimpses
was all I could catch before I was by. Another
turn and down the line again. I had a vague
confused picture of streaming fire, of rearing
horses, falling men, running men, general mess.
Turn again and back upon them. This time I
clearly saw two men heel ofi* the seat of a wagon,
then more awful mess. A fourth time I turned
and came back. One gun stuck but the incen-
diaries still blazed on. Horses rearing on fallen
men; wagons crosswise in the road; men again
dashing for the gutter. I craned my neck to see
more and to be sure not to run into trees or houses
beyond. Suddenly a ra-ta-ta-ta and a series of
whacks like the crack of a whip broke loose. I
knew only too well that the bullets were coming
very close to crack that way! I rocked and swung
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and turned and the rattle died away behind. I
found myself trembling with excitement and
overawed at being a cold-blooded murderer, but
a sense of keen satisfaction came too. It was only
the sort of thing our poor doughboys have suf-
fered so often.
It was now resi>ectably light at last; light
enough to see plainly the machines which swarmed
the air. Now watch out for Huns — but none
could I see. Spiads, Br^uets, Saimsons, Liber-
ties, Letores — were recognized as I passed fairly
close. Archie bursts now dotted the glowing skies
in a vain endeavor to reach the Allied planes.
I sailed back very low until I found our dough-
boys. In one place they were packed in solid
ranks, in another I could see them dotted along
the trenches, but it was impossible to see them
out in the open. They take advantage of every
bit of natural cover, are just the color of the
ground, and our own speed is very great. I
circled by close to a crowd and waved. Not a
motion in return. They either thought I was
Boche or were thinking hard of other things!
Usually they are very responsive. We often
chuck them cigarettes or newspapers which are
always received with great enthusiasm ! Honestly,
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those boys are wonderful. There is so much to
tell about them that I can't do it I But in dull
times I shall certainly tell you some of the re-
markable stories which I know are true. In one
place that morning our doughboys came on a
stove with breakfast cooking. They replenished
the fire and eagerly devoured the hot Boche food
which they said wasn't half bad! A queer sort of
compressed malt bread effect and some hot soup.
As I passed our front lines, our balloons loomed
up, great gawky sausages, with the first gleams of
the sun reflected on their wet sides. They were
so close together I didn't dare pass beneath for
fear of hitting an unseen cable. It did my heart
good to realize that in each of those uncouth
craft sat one or two observers regulating our bar-
rage fire and watching the movements of the
troops. The homeward trip through our barrage
was as stormy as the first, but it was quickly over.
All the way home formations of planes kept pass-
ing me on the way out. I felt as if we had just
won a Yale game! At last it really looks as if we
had the supremacy of the air — a statement
which we certainly could not make on the Chateau
Thierry front.
Since that memorable morning we have been
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constantly busy. Many of our crowd have Boche
planes and balloons to their credit. I seem to
have no luck at all that way. Every time I
miss a patrol because of motor trouble the crowd
seem to meet Boches, and if I make a dozen suc-
cessive patrols nothing at all turns up. A man is
judged by the results he shows, not by intentions
in the game. My score stands pretty painfully low,
and it gives me a pain. I do feel though, that my
turn will surely come if I stick to it.
Jove, it's fun to sit round and listen to the
stories which the pilots tell at mess time; men
who landed in No Man's Land; others just be-
hind the lines, and one who landed in German
territory was captured by the Boches only to be
retaken an hour later by the advancing Yanks!
It's almost like a strange and thrilling dream.
Lu, for goodness' sake be a sport and don't talk
about the junk I write in these letters. Just as
you say, there are a few thousand other men in
the air service all doing the same thing, but a
man's family is rather apt to lose sight of that
fact!
Good bye, you old sport, with loads of love to
Dicky and the kiddoes —
Ham.
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[liembercourQ Oct. 5, 1918
Blessed Mother,
This is the first instant I have had to write in
for a long time. I wrote my usual Sunday letter
to Lu this time because I hadn't written her for
ages and she has written me constantly. In it I
tried to describe a little my impression of the
morning of Sept. 26 attack! We have been fright-
fully busy since then trying to do our utmost to
help in the good work. Our group, the first pur-
suit group (four squadrons), has actually many
more victories and fewer casualties than the
whole first Wing composed of three groups! which
is a record we are all proud of.
"I^must write fast and briefly I am sorry to say,
but I know you understand. Mammy. On Octo-
ber 2 I picked up a Halberstadt biplace fighter
over the lines. My guns jammed after about
fifty rounds, but I kept manoeuvering with him
to keep him occupied until help arrived. Help
did arrive in the form* of seven more of my com-
panions! We cut the old boy off* from his lines
and started driving him home. We wanted to
drive him back to our aerodrome, but he per-
sisted in trying to escape, and one of the boys
growing impatient, put a few incendiaries into
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him and brought him down in flames. All this
was way back in our lines and I could look down
on the roads as we passed over and could see
autos stop and people gape open-mouthed as the
Boche passed not fifty feet over their heads
with eight Spads around, above, and behind him!
Strange to say both pilot and observer were prac-
tically unhurt in spite of the flames, but naturally
they were both taken prisoners immediately.
The next day, Oct. 3, was the most thrilling
day of my life so far, and it came within a hair of
being my last one. Two of us attacked enemy
balloons ten kilometers behind their lines at 4.35
P.M. I hardly had time to think of Archie fire and
streams of machine gun bullets that flew by as I
dove on my balloon. I could see my incendiaries
pour into the old gas bag, and the observer jump
out in his parachute. A few seconds later the
flames burst out and down it went. My com-
panion, a boy from another squadron, was ahead
of me and about to attack another balloon, when
I suddenly saw a formation of seven Fokkers
above. My heart stood still. He never saw them,
Mammy; it was hideous. My shriek of "Look
out Walter!** never got beyond my mouth be-
cause of the roaring exhaust. In a second they
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were upon him. Just a glimpse of the poor boy
in the midst of those devils was all I could catch
before the whole mess went circling to the ground.
When I reached the spot they were careening
around like a flock of buzzards over a freshly
killed prey. I was so mad I saw red, and dove
upon the nearest of them. He didn^t see, so I
waited till I was close upon him, then just riddled
him with bullets. At this very second I heard
that awful whip cracking sound and saw the
bullets were also flying by my head. I was com-
pletely surrounded, but my situation was so futile
that I was strangely cool. I tried to keep head
on to my attackers. In a few more seconds they
would have had me in such an unequal combat,
and I was wondering what sort of a funeral they
would give me, when a Spad flashed down from
the sky above, and another and another! The
protection, six Spads, had arrived. I almost
wept for joy — but suddenly realized that the
fireworks weren't over yet. For fifteen minutes
we milled together, rolling and tumbling — Spad,
Fokker, Fokker, Spad — in the wildest, most
confused whirling mass I ever hope to see. The
air was just streaked in every direction with the
smoke of the tracer bullets. We all have little
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photographic impressions of different moments in
that fight. I remember looking back once only
to see one Fokker on my tail and another from
the side shooting streams of bullets at me. A
second later it might be entirely different. Things
happened too fast and changed too often to en-
able any of us to retain anything but a confused
impression of that awful combat. Gradually we
edged towards our lines and finally crossed them
with the Fokkers in hot pursuit. They turned
back together, however, when we finally did reach
the lines.. It is unhealthy for them to come over
our side of the fence.
Once on our side we drew breath easily again
and took count each within himself of the
"score." One poor boy, a new pilot in our
squadron, was missing and the poor balloon
strafer ahead of me was gone. Our leader had
got one biplace in flames, I had got a balloon and
one of the other boys in the protecting patrol
confirmed the fact that the Fokker I had at-
tacked had crashed to the ground.
The day was not over yet, however. After the
main bunch had gone home a few of us were still
out on the lines. The Boches evidently thought
we had all gone for they sent an observation plane
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sneaking over to do some quick reconnaisance
work. Three of us spotted him almost simul-
taneously a few kilometers in our lines. We
raced at him together and ten seconds later he
was in flames. He sailed on a little, about two
hundred feet above the ground, then tottered and
crashed in a final burst of flames! We all three
got credit for his destruction. If all my vic-
tories are oflicially confirmed I shall be an "ace**
(5 victories), but please don't talk about it, as
official victories are the only ones that really
count and even then there are a few millions of
other men in the war all doing just as hard and
dangerous work, much of which is never known
about or "noised abroad." It's much nicer just
to sit tight and be humble and thankful to the
Almighty for His great goodness; don't you
think so? The feeling I have on looking back on
three victories in an hour is not one of triumphant
power. It is rather a feeling, stronger than ever,
that we mortals are mere specks of dust in the
wind, blown about at His pleasure, and I realize as
never before, that it was due to no cleverness or
bravado on my part that I scored these victories;
it was simply His will that I should live through it,
and mere chance brought me the successes.
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My poor dear Spad No. 22 is so badly shot up
that it will have to be replaced by a horrid new
one, It*s strange what affection you can develop
for an inanimate object, but my old Spad stained
with oil and smoke and even cold sweat from my
brow was like a trusted horse to me. I have cut
off from its side our squadron insignia "Uncle
Sam's Hat in the Ring** and the No. 22 just as it
was, all dirty and weather beaten, as a revered
souvenir of a plane which performed steadily and
faithfully for a long time unrewarded, and finally
came to a glorious end on the day of victory! I
am also sending several pieces of its wing-cover-
ing, pierced by Boche bullets, and some of them
with remarks written on them. Do keep them
carefully, because they will always be interesting
to look back upon. . . .
I simply am swamped these days and am
utterly unable to write letters. It is a question
of just sticking on the job till the nerves go bad
or the bad weather brings a needed rest. The
work is so thrilling that it is actually sustaining
and tiring at the same time I
I got a sudden shock at lunch the other day,
and for a minute couldn't think why. Then it
suddenly dawned on me that I was eating soup
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from a little bowl with ears just like ours at home,
except that it had horrid polka dots instead of
the yellow chickens and the lucky one with the
house!
Your hvingest Ham.
Sunday y Oct. i^tb, 191 8
Dearest Mother,
This is the first Sunday in ages which has
seemed like Sunday, and the reason is that a
drizzle set in at an early hour this morning, so
that when the second flight began the painful
process of getting up to make a seven o'clock
patrol, they soon discovered that it was unneces-
sary, and went back to bed for another snooze.
Breakfast took place at an "easy nine** as on the
best-regulated peace-time Sundays!
I wrote you a short mid-week letter just before
we set out on a balloon raid. I might do well to
continue where I left off*, for the raid, like most
of its predecessors, was somewhat eventful. It
was a carefully planned affair. Three "strafers"
would arrive over the enemy balloon position at
a certain minute. Thirty seconds later three
groups of about eight planes each would meet
over the spot from different points of the com-
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pass to protect the strafers who should have just
shot down their balloons. All worked out quite
perfectly except that when we arrived on the
scene not a single balloon was in sight. I was
leading a protective formation this time, and,
true to form, the Fokkers came piling down on us
a few minutes later. A general "dog-fight" en-
sued. One of the best pilots in the group found
himself face to face with a Fokker. Each opened
fire simultaneously and each thought the other
would be the one to turn at the last second, but
neither did. They crashed head-on and dropped
wingless to the ground. It was one of the few
times when the Boche didn't yield in a tight
place when he was working alone. Another
Boche went down in flames and another of our
pilots also took the count. My duty was to get
my formation home since we were ten kilometers
in Heinie's territory where he naturally fought to
a great advantage. Gradually we edged towards
our lines while the Fokkers, one by one abandoned
the fight. Soon we were well on our way to the
lines with no Fokkers in pursuit, but suddenly
below and behind us I saw a lone Spad with two
of them hot "on his tail." I turned so quickly
that only one man of our formation saw me.
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The rest continued on while we two circled
around, then down, full motor, down on the
Fokkers. I noticed that the lone Spad had made
good his escape and that the Boches had throttled
their motors and turned towards home. All this
was at not more than a few thousand feet up.
The great speed of the dive carried me quickly up
on one of the Huns- I saw that he had not seen
me, so I waited till I was only 50 meters away,
then opened both guns at his cockpit. In a flash
I was past him, but Willie P (not Piatt) be-
hind me saw him careen over on his side and
start rapidly down. Then he opened fire and
added what finishing touches might have been
necessary. The next thing I knew the Boche's
companion was "on my tail" shooting madly.
I realized that there were more Fokkers around
and that I was still in Boche-Iand so I didn't
stop to give battle, but headed for home, motor
wide open, and squirming from side to side to
give him as difficult a target as possible. Gradu-
ally he fell behind and once more I breathed
easily, especially when I saw Willie pull up be-
side me unhurt likewise. One of our balloon
observers is said to have seen the Hun crash, so
we stand a good chance of getting confirmation.
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This and one other confirmation are pending —
If they come through I will have seven official —
and at this second Toni Crocker comes bursting
in with the news that the "Kaiser accepts every-
thing," that he is sending a delegation to decide
how he can retreat without getting beaten up in
the process! What next, dear Mammy? This
peace talk is awfully bad for a fighter, because
when a man starts to get "careful" of himself,
he stands the best chance of getting killed, or at
least of not accomplishing results. So Hammy
will forget about it and join those who take the
attitude, "Yes, Til begin to think about peace
when the order comes through to stop fighting."
All I say is that I pity the Boches when our sol-
diers cut loose in their territory. Mammy, the
American doughboy is one of the hardest most
relentless specimens in the war, and the Boches
have a wholesome respect for them.
By some queer arrangement I have become a
Captain I Here's the way it strikes me. I don't
know any conceivable reason why I should have
been made a Captain while our Commanding
Officer, a man with eighteen official Boches (the
leading American Ace) and admittedly one of the
best C. O.'s on the front, remains a lieutenant.
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That puts me in an awkward position to say the
least. Also I don't want any position higher
than the one I now hold, — that of a flight-com-
mander, where I lead in person my little band of
six or eight on their stunts. Tm afraid they will
make me a squadron commander or something
where I will have to tell my men to do things
instead of being able to lead them personally. I
don*t want a position of "authority or responsi-
bility" where one sits in a chair. If they will
leave me alone a simple pilot and flight leader I
won't mind being a captain — voild!
From all over the barracks are coming re-
marks: — "Are you all packed yet, John?" or
"Fm glad I didn't buy that new uniform after
all!" It seems so unbelievable and we all know
how treacherous those fiends are, that nobody
really takes things seriously though the news
came in an official report.
Well, Mammy, if it should be true don't forget
to tell dear old Anna to have my tuxedo pressed,
my citizen clothes taken out of camphor, and the
sewing machine removed from my room!
More anon — I'm thrilled, but dare not really
expect anything —
Your loving Ham.
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Sunday, Oct. 13, 191 8
Dear Dickie,
Lu has been writing such good letters all sum-
mer, and from them I have gleaned an idea of
your experiences in shipbuilding. I gotta hand it
to you, that's all. They tell me, however, that
you were marked as an aristocrat and hopeless
"swell guy*' when you inadvertently disclosed
the fact that you frequented Mooney's (is that
the right name?) — a restaurant which you de-
scribed to Lu as comparing favorably with the
Ayer Station lunch counter! It honestly must
have been a mighty satisfactory experience. Do
drop me a line some time or add a P. S. to one of
Lu*s letters.
Gosh, one doesn't know what to think these
days with all this peace scare flying around; in
fact they told me this afternoon that orders had
been received in the trenches to stop firing. I
was able emphatically to contradict that rumor
this evening however.
I had counted on a peaceful Sunday at last as
a steady drizzle had set in, but no peace for the
wicked. At three o'clock they sent down word
that someone was needed right away to go out
and knock down an enemy balloon which was
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directing embarrassing artillery fire. I found the
weather better over the lines and finally located
my old sausage. A tricky approach put me in
position and as I dove on it I inwardly speculated
on whether I was putting more shots in the bal-
loon than they were putting in my plane! From
the flickering dots of incendiaries that cracked
around me I decided the odds were well in their
favor until suddenly a little glow appeared in the
top of the balloon and a moment later it burst
into flames and descended gracefully to earth.
I was still in the air doing my prettiest twisting
to evade the various forms of Boche fireworks
they were sending up in my honor. On the way
home I took a shot at a passing German biplane,
but managed things so unskillfully that I found
I was the goat (being square in the observer's
arc of fire). Uttering a loud "wrong again," I
swung hastily away from him only to see at a
short distance away and coming straight in my
direction a group of eight Fokkers. The Boches
had evidently decided that the fireworks were
not a fitting mark of recognition for the occasion
so they had sent a convoy of their prettiest little
planes to escort me home. The speed of a Spad
has been a matter of some discussion Dicky, but
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all I say is that I wish the doubters might have
seen me on my way home this evening. Honestly
it was a funny sensation. After opening the
motor wide and holding the head south I knew
there was nothing more I could do, so I sat there
turned half around in my seat watching those
boys and wondering whether or not they could
catch me. For a while they gained steadily, be-
cause their greater altitude gave them increased
speed on the down slope, but after they once got
on my level my old ship pulled gradually away
from them, and I couldn't resist putting my
thumb to my nose when they turned and swung
back cbez eux. The balloon was pretty far in
and rather low down so our observers may not
have seen it go down, in which case official con-
firmation will be lacking, but it's one's own satis-
faction that counts anyway.
Must get some sleep Dicky, but best luck and
loads of love to you —
Ham.
Sanger Hall, Sunday, Oct. 20, 191 8
Dearest Mother,
This Sunday's letter comes not from the front
but from a station near Paris where I am on a 3-
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day leave. I was awfully glad to get away for
a few days of rest and a chance to buy some
much-needed clothes and shoes. I mtend to skip
down to Romorantin to see the dear Normants,
but the train service is hopelessly bad and the
weather is of the same quality so I cannot accept
the kind offer of a plane to fly down in.
This is a huge reception park for planes com-
ing from the factories and going from here to
various points on the front. I might explain
that "Sanger Hall" is to outward appearances a
tar-papered barrack but inside 1 You see
Capt. Sanger was killed here in an accident, and
his wife gave this building in his memory. She
worked out the interior arrangements with Paris
interior decorators and the result is wonderful.
There are two large rooms with a big open fire-
place at the end of each. One room has a piano,
phonograph, magazine table, and comfortable
sofas and chairs covered with a kind of burlap in
alternate light and dark blue stripes. The other
room is a combined library and writing room
also equipped with sumptuous lounge chairs and
sofa. The panelling is a light yellow, the curtains
emerald green, and at each of the dark stained
writing tables are large quill pens in brilliant
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greens, blues and reds. Green shaded reading
lamps at each table and large yellow shades are
on the lamps of the center table. The floors are
carpeted and all the fittings, such as desk pads,
ink stands, lamp brackets, paper holders, are of
the same kind you find in the Somerset Club.
The whole is harmonious (even though my de-
scription might not convey that impression) and
in good taste. It seems to strike a medium
between the ordinary camp rest room and a
rather swagger club.
I have run into many old friends, both pilots
and men in the Paris office. They treat one very
well; in fact Maj. who just brought me out
here in his car explained that hereafter pilots
who had made a good record on the front might
ask for about any kind of plane they wanted.
Naturally we have strong preferences for a Spad
equipped with certain kinds of motors, but in
the ordinary distribution it's pure luck what you
get. Also they will equip such a plane with any
instruments or equipment the pilot may desire.
I didn't have the nerve to ask whether he con-
sidered me eligible for this "special" arrange-
ment, but that will probably take care of itself.
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I certainly should like to be able to say, " I want
a K Spad with a B motor in it; two
V guns instead of the regular M guns, a
C compass instead of the ordinary one, a
B carburetor with so many jets of such and
such a size, etc. "
The day before I left we had another combat.
I was leading our formation when I suddenly
discovered we had "cut off" a lone German bi-
place from his lines. I started to attack him
but both my guns jammed after a single shot
from each. The other boys, however, made short
work of the Boche. We foHowed him right
down to the ground for he lit in our lines. Neither
pilot nor observer seemed to be injured in the
crash, but I won't guarantee that our dough-
boys didn't eat them alive!
This rest is wonderful. It is such a change to
be able to step over to the A. R. C. canteen for
hot drinks at tea time, then, once more at Paris,
to sleep in a comfortable bed and bathe in hot
water in a real tub!
• ..••••
Bestest love, dear Mother, and all the crowd,
Your Umng
H.
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LETTERS OF AN AMERICAN AIRMAN
Oct. 22, I918
Dearest P. A.,
I am just back from a three days' leave quite
profitably spent in Paris (buying clothes, shoes,
etc., for the winter) and in Romorantin where I
had the great pleasure of spending a night at the
Normants where Q. and I used to spend such
happy week-ends in days gone by. . . .
Returning to my squadron this morning I was
delighted to find that my C. O. (the leading
American Ace, 19 official Boches) had at last
been awarded the D. S. C. with four oak leaves
in partial recognition of his work, although they
have not yet condescended to give him his well-
earned captaincy or majority. He is a remark-
able C. O., accompanying his pilots on every
mission of importance or danger, and his pilots
are therefore willing workers.
This afternoon a disagreeable experience robbed
me of what I feel quite sure would have been an-
other victory. During my absence my plane
had received harsh treatment at the hands of a
rather clumsy friend who damaged it in landing.
The mechanics assured me that the injured parts
had been replaced with new ones. Foolishly
taking their word for it I went out on patrol.
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We soon located a German two-seater and
manoeuvred unseen into a very favorable posi-
tion. I dove to attack with my two comrades
close behind me. Suddenly my machine gave a
terrible lurch which snapped me against the
safety belt. I knew something was wrong and
swung off, followed by the other two, leaving the
surprised Hun to a peaceful retreat. I babied
my ship home and landed safely only to find that
my stabilizer had been broken internally, and
that the fierce air pressure incurred in the dive
had twisted it abnost off, making my plane un-
manageable until the air pressure lessened. I did
some healthy "bawling out" much as I hate to.
My mechanics have been very hard and faithful
workers, but this seemed a clear case of careless
inspection. It was hateful to see that Boche
sail home with impunity.
Oct. 22, I918
Dear Ollie,
We've just been outside watching a show, one
of the kind that puts a thrill in things. What
kind of a show do you think one would be looking
at out of doors at 8:30 p.m.? Je vais vous dire,
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mon vieux: — I had just written the heading of
this letter when suddenly someone yelled, "Lights
out!" Out they went damn quickly. It was
soon apparent what the row was all about for a
barrage dotted the sky over X not far away,
and the roving beams of the searchlights swung
slowly, inquisitively, around in a vain effort ta
pick up the raider. A few seconds later came a
thundering whang! slam! bang! far louder than
a barrage, and we knew the old boy had dropped
his eggs. Then a different tone of motor told us
that our night cbasse was on the trail. We
all stood outside cheering them on. I know not
how they could see each other unless the moon
was sufficient or a stray searchlight beam acci-
dentally reached the right spot, but anyway the
old machine guns opened up. Little dots of fire
flashed back and forth and a minute later came
the ra ta ta ta. We were rooting hard for our
boys but they couldn't seem to land their shots
in the right spot. The fitting climax would have
been for the Boche to burst into flames and drop
— but we had to call the combat a draw, because
no one came down. We could see in the far dis-
tance still another combat going on. There was
some excitement when one of the raiders droned
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right over our field, but he must have been on his
way home for he dropped no bombs on us. Our
boys are new at this night cbasse work, but I
think soon they will begin knocking down the
old Gothas. They certainly work before a good
gallery and confirmation for a victory at night
would be forthcoming from a few thousand dif-
ferent witnesses.
Best lov€f
Ham.
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.' * f •, *
. . ''.; ; ( .• ;•'
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Death is certainly not a black unmentionable
thing, and I feel . . . that dead people should be
talked of just as if they were alive. At mess and
sitting around in our quarters the hoys that have
been killed are spoken of all the time when any
little thing reminds someone of them. To me
Quentin is just away somewhere. I know we shall
see each other again and have a grand old ** hooshy**
talking over everything together. I miss him the
way I miss Mother and the family, for his person-
ality or spirit are just as real and vivid as they
ever were.
Hamilton Coolidge
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[citation for gallantry]
UNITED STATES ARMY
U. S. A. A. E. F.
CITATION
First Lieutenant Hamilton Coolidge, A.S. 94th
Aero Sqdn.
for distinguished and exceptional gallantry
at Bonnes, France on 7 July 191 8 in the operations
of the American Expeditionary Forces
In testimony thereof, and as an expression of
appreciation of his valor, I award him this
CITATION
Awarded on 27 March 19 19
John J. Pershing
Commander'in'Cbief
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[citation to the FRENCH ARMY AOCOBfPANIED BY
AWARD OF CROIX DE GUERRE WITH PALM]
D. M.
GRAND QUARTIER okskKAh
ORDRE
ARMJES FRANgAISES DE l'eST j^q T2027 "D"
iTAT-MAJOR
(extrait)
BUREAU DU PERSONNEL ^ ^
(Decorations)
Apr^ approbation du G^6ral Commandant
en Chef les Forces expfeditionnaires Amfericaines en
France, le Marechal de France, Commandant en
Chef les Armfees Frangaises de TEst, cite k TOrdre
de TArmee.
Lieutenant-pilote Hamilton Coolidge,
k TEscadrille Am^ricaine 94:
"Pilote de grand courage- A abattu en
flammes, le 7 Juillet 191 8, un biplace ennemi dans
la R^ion de Grisolles-"
Au Grand Quartier Gfen&al, le 29 Novembre 1918
Le Marshal de France
Commandant en Chef les Armfees
Fran^aises de FEst
PfiTAIN
Pour Extrait Conforme:
Le Lieutenant-Colonel
Chef du Bureau du Personnel
Daubigny
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[award of distinguished service cross]
WAR DEPARTMENT
THE ADJUTANT GENERAL'S OFHCE
WASHINGTON
IN REPLY
REFER TO 201 Gx>Iidge, Hamilton
(Mis. Div.)
March lo, 19 19
Mr. J. R. Gx>Iidge,
10 West Hill Place,
Boston, Mass.
Dear Sir:
This office has been advised by the C)ininanding
General, American Expeditionary Forces, (cable 1978), that
he has awarded the distinguished-service cross posthumously
to your son. Captain Hamilton Coolidge, 94th Aero Squadron,
for "Extraordinary heroism in action near Grand Prfe, France,
October 27, 1918. Leading a protection patrol, he went to
the assistance of two observation planes which were being
attacked by six German machines. Observing this man-
oeuver, the enemy sent up a terrific barrage from anti-aircraft
guns on the ground. Disregarding the extreme danger, he
dived straight into the barrage and his plane was struck
and sent down in flames."
The Quartermaster General of the Army has been
directed to have the cross forwarded to you and it is be-
lieved that you will receive same in a very short time.
Very truly yours,
(signed) P. C. Harris
The Adjutant General
Per: CM.T.
cmt/evh
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3 2044 019 878 446
This book should be returned to
the Idbrary on or before the last date
stamped below.
A fine of tkvQ oente a day lb incurred
by retaining it beyond the speoifled
time.
Please return promptly.
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