THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE 



9 



head, and a smile on his lips. No words 

 in any language can convey a just appre- 

 ciation of his valor or his sacrifice. 



In France they have given his mortal 

 remains the place reserved for the great 

 men whose names are the honor of our 

 country — the Pantheon. At least, there 

 they will rest when we shall have snatched 

 away from the Huns the little churchyard 

 of Poelscapelle, where they were buried 

 respectfully. 



But Guynemer is not out of the strug- 

 gle for us. He is a star in the sky. Many 

 stars will come to aviation, more numer- 

 ous yet, lured by its gleam. Go over 

 there — you shall see that star, and feel its 

 lure, and desire to fly up to it. There is 

 no child in France who does not lisp 

 Guynemer's name ; no boy who does not 

 want to follow where he led ; no soldier, 

 no chief, who does not have before his 

 eyes the example of that youth who over- 

 topped them all. The path he traced is 

 straight and true. He followed the way 

 of honor. 



THK AUTHOR'S OWN EXPERIENCE 



I am reluctant to write of my own case, 

 but I ask your permission to do so in 

 order to show you what a fascination 

 aviation has for one. 



Officer by profession, I was interested 

 in flying before the war, but only a few 

 months before. Not being sufficiently 

 trained when the war broke out, I had to 



go back to my infantry regiment on the 

 eastern frontier. 



On the 22d of September, 1914, both 

 my arms were broken in a combat. As 

 soon as I reached the hospital, I put in a 

 request to enter the air service if possible. 

 My request was refused ; there was too 

 great a need for infantry officers. So, 

 when my arms were well again, I re- 

 turned to my regiment at the front. In 

 January, 191 5, my foot was blown off by 

 a shell ; they cut off my leg and they cured 

 me. They gave me an articulated leg. 

 Not wanting to be discharged, I again put 

 in a plea to join the aviation service, and 

 after a great many formalities was al- 

 lowed to become an observer. In a com- 

 bat at Verdun our machine was riddled 

 with bullets and was obliged to hobble 

 back to our lines. A bullet had carried 

 off two fingers of my right hand. 



I joined my squadron again in the 

 Somme after six months of illness in a 

 hospital. I remained there five months, 

 with the good fortune not to be wounded, 

 happy to be able to serve once more. It 

 was not the result of a wound, but of ill- 

 ness and weakness after nine operations 

 in two years, that I was again sent away 

 from the front. 



In my assignment to duty in America 

 I would like to think that I have not 

 wasted my time here, and if I have been 

 able to persuade some of my comrades 

 in arms to become aviators my work will 

 not have been in vain. 



FLYING IN FRANCE 



By Captain Andre de Berroeta 



Oe the French Aviation Service 



THE SEVERAL thousand miles 

 which separate the United States 

 from the European battlefields 

 render the conception of a modern battle 

 very difficult for an American. 



Moreover, such a rapid transforma- 

 tion in the instruments of war and in 

 the methods of employing the different 

 branches of the army has marked the 

 period during which military operations 



have been maintained that even one who 

 has witnessed the obstinate struggle 

 throughout these three years has diffi- 

 culty in following all the details of its 

 mechanical evolution. The transforma- 

 tion has taken place more particularly 

 on the French front, where the opera- 

 tions have reached an intensity unsur- 

 passed elsewhere. The Marne, Verdun, 

 the Somme, the Aisne have been so many 



