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THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE 



commissioned to command the mechanics 

 who are plain soldiers, with rifles and 

 steel helmets for the occasion. He is a 

 bit of a clown and amused the entire 

 gathering, kidding with the officers. The 

 pilots of each of the five escadrilles were 

 in more or less formation; most of them 

 with hands in their pockets, for it was 

 chilly, and presenting a mixture of uni- 

 forms unparalleled in its heterogeneity ; 

 every branch of the service represented 

 and endless personal ideas in dress. 



Because of the occasion, repos has been 

 granted to the entire group for the after- 

 noon, another group taking over our 

 patrols ; so that after the revue every one 

 had the afternoon to waste — a sunny day, 

 which is quite unusual this month. 

 Within a half hour every machine that 

 was in working order was in the air, 

 forming into groups and then off for the 

 lines, just looking for trouble — voluntary 

 patrol they call it — which opened my eyes 

 a bit to the spirit in the French aviation 

 service after three years of war. 



Word from Paris that those Ameri- 

 cans in the French service who have de- 

 manded their release to join the U. S. A. 

 have obtained that release, which prob- 

 ably means that all we wait for now 

 . . . on the commissions. 



This afternoon I took another trip with 

 one of the old pilots to look over the sec- 

 tor. We stayed over France and didn't 

 get into trouble, although there were lots 

 of Boches around. Hope to get really 

 started soon. 



An amusing one this morning: Two 

 pilots from the group were on patrol and 

 attacked a single German about two kilo- 

 meters behind the German lines. They 

 completely outmaneuvered him ; he got 

 cold feet and started for the French lines, 

 giving himself up. The funniest part 

 about it is that the machine gun of one of 

 the attackers was jammed and he couldn't 

 possibly have hurt the Boche — just had 

 the nerve to stay and throw a bluff. 



They came back to camp just before 

 dark this evening, one of them flying the 

 German machine and the other guarding 

 him in a Spad. The machine is an Alba- 

 tross monoplane (biplane), finished in 

 silver, with big black crosses on the wings 

 and tail — a really beautiful thing. It flew 



around camp for several minutes before 

 landing. It is the second machine that 

 has been scared down since I've been out 



here. 



A MIMIC COMBAT IN THE AIR 



. It the Front, 



Somewhere in France, 

 November iy } 1917. 



At present things are hopelessly slow 

 on account of bad weather, so I have a 

 good deal of time to write and naught to 

 write of. I still am waiting for my bap- 

 tism of active service, which is assigned 

 for each day and held up on account of 

 fog, low clouds, or rain. In the after- 

 noon it usually lifts a little, not enough 

 to fly over the lines, but sufficient to per- 

 mit a little vol d' entrainment — a practice 

 flight around the field. I've been taking 

 every chance to learn to fly — practicing 

 reversements, vertically banked turns, 90- 

 degree nose dives, etc. 



Two days ago we had a very interest- 

 ing mimic combat in the air. The Boche 

 machine, which has been captured, and a 

 Spad, both driven by very clever pilots, 

 maneuvered for position during 15 or 20 

 minutes at 1,000 feet or less, back and 

 forth over the field, doing almost every 

 possible thing in the air — changing direc- 

 tion with incredible rapidity, diving, 

 climbing, wing - slipping, upside - down 

 dives — everything under the sun. 



Two of them were at it again today in 

 two Spads — just maneuvering. What a 

 lot there is to learn ! When I got through 

 acrobacy at Pau, I had the impression 

 that that kind of stuff was relatively 

 easy; now I know different. For the 

 present I'm working on the system of try 

 one thing at a time ; get that fairly well 

 and then commence another. And small 

 doses — 10 or 15 minutes for an acrobatic 

 flight ; not more — because one can easily 

 get dangerously sick in a very short time. 

 Not that there is any particular peril in 

 getting ill in the air ; only it's beastly 

 uncomfortable. 



RATHER GET A BOCHE THAN A COMMISSION 



At the Front, 

 Somewhere in France, 

 November 30, ipi/. 

 The rumor at the Lafayette Escadrille 



