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THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE 



then decided not to use it and left straight 

 for Pan, after fond farewells to the 

 friends I've been with for y/ 2 months. 

 Looking back, I didn't have such a bad 

 time at Avord after all, though I did get 

 terribly tired of the living conditions. 



DIFFICULTIES OF TRAVELING IN FRANCE 

 IN WAR TIME 



My trip to Pau I put down to experi- 

 ence. I discovered one schedule not to 

 travel by in future. Leaving Avord at 

 2.15, I got to Bourges at 245 and found 

 that the train left at 7.29. Fortunately, 

 there was another chap from the school 

 on the train, Arthur Blumenthal, an old 

 Princeton football star, whom I have 

 gotten to know quite well, so we man- 

 aged to waste the afternoon together; 

 almost made ourselves sick on candy and 

 then ate ourselves stupid at the hotel at 

 dinner time. 



At 7.29 I started another half-hour's 

 journey, at the end of which the time- 

 table said that the train for Bordeaux 

 left at 10.30 (this is all p. m.), At this 

 town there were some American engi- 

 neers, so I embraced the fellow-country- 

 men in a strange land. Finished up a 

 not very gay evening by attending the 

 movies — a most odd institution. Clouds 

 of tobacco smoke obscured the screen, 

 and most of the action was around the 

 bar at one side of the hall. Nobody was 

 drunk, but nearly every one was drink- 

 ing and very gay. This was merely Sat- 

 urday night in a small town of the prov- 

 inces ; not in gay Paree. 



At 10.15 I got in a first-class compart- 

 ment and tried to find a comfortable po- 

 sition in which to sleep. At 2.15 a. m. I 

 had mussed up my clothes considerably, 

 lost my temper and not slept a wink. 

 Then we had to change again. The rest 

 of the morning I sat opposite an Amer- 

 ican officer, a queer old fogey, and we 

 tried to kid each other into thinking we 

 were sleeping, with no success. Arrived 

 at Bordeaux at 7 a. m. and found that 

 the train for Pau left immediately, so I 

 missed out on breakfast, too — oh, it was 

 a hectic trip. My idea of a very unpleas- 

 ant occupation is that of a traveling 

 salesman in France. 



QUARTERED WITH HEROES OF THE 

 LAFAYETTE ESCADRILLE 



Escadrille Spa-84, 

 Scctcur Postal 181, 

 Par A. C. M.— Paris. 

 November 1, 191J. 



Well, I'm here — in sight of the front 

 at last. To date I haven't been out there 

 yet and won't for a few days more, as 

 they take lots of care of new pilots and 

 don't feed them to the Boche right away. 

 Probably day after tomorrow the lieu- 

 tenant in command will take me out to 

 show me around the lines, and after that 

 I'll take my place in oatrols with the 

 others. 



The work is exclusively patrolling, 

 establishing, as it were, a barrage against 

 German machines and preventing as far 

 as possible any incursions of the French 

 lines. As the big attack is over, there 

 is comparatively little activity. Some- 

 times one goes for a whole patrol with- 

 out being fired on and without seeing an 

 enemy machine anywhere near the lines. 



During the three days I've been here 

 the group has accounted for several 

 Boches without any losses whatever. 

 Young Bridgeman, of the Lafayette Es- 

 cadrille, had a bullet through his fuselage 

 just in front of his chest, but suffered no 

 damage except from fright. 



There are several escadrilles in the 

 group — a Groitpe. de Combat it is called ; 

 all have Spads,' which makes it very nice. 

 The Lafayette, 124, is of our group and 

 have adjoining barracks, which makes it 

 very nice (I seem to repeat) for us lone 

 Americans in French Escadrille. We 

 drop in there far too often and the first 

 few nights I used the bed of the famous 

 Bill Thaw's room-mate, away on per- 

 mission. 



Did I write you that one morning he 

 brought in Whiskey to wake me up, and 

 my eyes no sooner opened than my head 

 was buried under the covers. Whiskey 

 is a pet — a very large lion cub — which 

 has unfortunately outgrown its utility as 

 a pet and was sent yesterday, with its 

 running mate, Soda, to the zoo, at Paris, 

 to be a regular lion. 



They are a very odd crowd — the mem- 

 bers of the Lafayette Escadrille — a few 

 nice ones and a bunch of rather rough- 



