Flying for France
J >>
James R. McConnell >> Flying for France
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 | 5 |
6
TRAINING FOR PURSUIT AIRPLANES
The method of training a pilot for a small, fast _avion de chasse_, as
a fighting airplane is termed, is quite different, and as it is the
most thorough and interesting I will take that course up in greater
detail.
The man who trains for one of these machines never has the advantage
of going first into the air in a double-control airplane. He is alone
when he first leaves the earth, and so the training preparatory to
that stage is very carefully planned to teach a man the habit of
control in such a way that all the essential movements will come
naturally when he first finds himself face to face with the new
problems the air has set for him. In this preparatory training a great
deal of weeding out is effected, for a man's aptitude for the work
shows up, and unless he is by nature especially well fitted he is
transferred to the division which teaches one to fly the larger and
safer machines.
First of all, the student is put on what is called a roller. It is a
low-powered machine with very small wings. It is strongly built to
stand the rough wear it gets, and no matter how much one might try it
could not leave the ground. The apparatus is jokingly and universally
known as a Penguin, both because of its humorous resemblance to the
quaint arctic birds and its inability in common with them to do any
flying. A student makes a few trips up and down the field in a
double-control Penguin, and learns how to steer with his feet. Then he
gets into a single-seated one and, while the rapidly whirling
propeller is pulling him along, tries to keep the Penguin in a
straight line. The slightest mistake or delayed movement will send the
machine skidding off to the right or left, and sometimes, if the motor
is not stopped in time, over on its side or back. Something is always
being broken on a Penguin, and so a reserve flock is kept at the side
of the field in order that no time may be lost.
After one is able to keep a fairly straight line, he is put on a
Penguin that moves at a faster rate, and after being able to handle it
successfully passes to a very speedy one, known as the "rapid." Here
one learns to keep the tail of the machine at a proper angle by means
of the elevating lever, and to make a perfectly straight line. When
this has been accomplished and the monitor is thoroughly convinced
that the student is absolutely certain of making no mistakes in
guiding with his feet, the young aviator is passed on to the class
which teaches him how to leave the ground. As one passes from one
machine to another one finds that the foot movements must be made
smaller and smaller. The increased speed makes the machine more and
more responsive to the rudder, and as a result the foot movements
become so gentle when one gets into the air that they must come
instinctively.
FIRST FLIGHTS ALONE
The class where one will leave the ground has now been reached, and an
outfit of leather clothes and casque is given to the would-be pilot.
The machines used at this stage are low-powered monoplanes of the
Bleriot type, which, though being capable of leaving the ground,
cannot rise more than a few feet. They do not run when the wind is
blowing or when there are any movements of air from the ground, for
though a great deal of balancing is done by correcting with the
rudder, the student knows nothing of maintaining the lateral
stability, and if caught in the air by a bad movement would be apt to
sustain a severe accident. He has now only to learn how to take the
machine off the ground and hold it at a low line of flight for a few
moments.
For the first time one is strapped into the seat of the machine, and
this continues to be the case from this point on. The motor is
started, and one begins to roll swiftly along the ground. The tail is
brought to an angle slightly above a straight line. Then one sits
tight and waits. Suddenly the motion seems softer, the motor does not
roar so loudly, and the ground is slipping away. The class standing at
the end of the line looks far below; the individuals are very small,
but though you imagine you are going too high, you must not push to go
down more than the smallest fraction, or the machine will dive and
smash. The small push has brought you down with a bump from a
seemingly great height. In reality you have been but three feet off
the ground. Little by little the student becomes accustomed to leaving
the ground, for these short hop-skip-and-jump flights, and has learned
how to steer in the air.
If he has no bad smash-ups he is passed on to a class where he rises
higher, and is taught the rudiments of landing. If, after a few days,
that act is reasonably performed and the young pilot does not land too
hard, he is passed to the class where he goes about sixty feet high,
maintains his line of flight for five or six minutes and learns to
make a good landing from that height. He must by this time be able to
keep his machine on the line of flight without dipping and rising, and
the landings must be uniformly good. The instructor takes a great deal
of time showing the student the proper line of descent, for the
landings must be perfect before he can pass on.
Now comes the class where the pilot rises three or four hundred feet
high and travels for more than two miles in a straight line. Here he
is taught how to combat air movements and maintain lateral stability.
All the flying up to this point has been done in a straight line, but
now comes the class where one is taught to turn. Machines in this
division are almost as high powered as a regular flying machine, and
can easily climb to two thousand feet. The turn is at first very wide,
and then, as the student becomes more confident, it is done more
quickly, and while the machine leans at an angle that would frighten
one if the training in turning had not been gradual. When the pilot
can make reasonably close right and left turns, he is told to make
figure eights. After doing this well he is sent to the real flying
machines.
There is nothing in the way of a radical step from the turns and
figure eights to the real flying machines. It is a question of
becoming at ease in the better and faster airplanes taking greater
altitudes, making little trips, perfecting landings, and mastering all
the movements of correction that one is forced to make. Finally one is
taught how to shut off and start one's motor again in the air, and
then to go to a certain height, shut off the motor, make a half-turn
while dropping and start the motor again. After this, one climbs to
about two thousand feet and, shutting off the motor, spirals down to
within five hundred feet of the ground. When that has been practised
sufficiently, a registering altitude meter is strapped to the pilot's
back and he essays the official spiral, in which one must spiral all
the way to earth with the motor off, and come to a stop within a few
yards of a fixed point on the aviation grounds. After this, the
student passes to the voyage machines, which are of almost twice the
power of the machine used for the short trips and spirals.
TESTS FOR THE MILITARY BREVET
There are three voyages to make. Two consist in going to designated
towns an hour or so distant and returning. The third voyage is a
triangle. A landing is made at one point and the other two points are
only necessary to cross. In addition, there are two altitudes of about
seven thousand feet each that one has to attain either while on the
voyages or afterward.
The young pilot has not, up to this point, had any experience on
trips, and there is always a sense of adventure in starting out over
unknown country with only a roller map to guide one and the gauges and
controls, which need constant attention, to distract one from the
reading of the chart. Then, too, it is the first time that the student
has flown free and at a great height over the earth, and his sense of
exultation at navigating at will the boundless sky causes him to
imagine he is a real pilot. True it is that when the voyages and
altitudes are over, and his examinations in aeronautical sciences
passed, the student becomes officially a _pilote-aviateur_, and he can
wear two little gold-woven wings on his collar to designate his
capacity, and carry a winged propeller emblem on his arm, but he is
not ready for the difficult work of the front, and before he has time
to enjoy more than a few days' rest he is sent to a school of
_perfectionnement_. There the real, serious and thorough training
begins.
Schools where the pilots are trained on the modern machines--_ecoles
de perfectionnement_ as they are called--are usually an annex to the
centres where the soldiers are taught to fly, though there are one or
two camps that are devoted exclusively to giving advanced instruction
to aviators who are to fly the _avions de chasse_, or fighting
machines. When the aviator enters one of these schools he is a
breveted pilot, and he is allowed a little more freedom than he
enjoyed during the time he was learning to fly.
He now takes up the Morane monoplane. It is interesting to note that
the German Fokker is practically a copy of this machine. After flying
for a while on a low-powered Morane and having mastered the landing,
the pilot is put on a new, higher-powered model of the same make. He
has a good many hours of flying, but his trips are very short, for the
whole idea is to familiarize one with the method of landing. The
Bleriot has a landing gear that is elastic in action, and it is easy
to bring to earth. The Nieuport and other makes of small, fast
machines for which the pilot is training have a solid wheel base, and
good landings are much more difficult to make. The Morane pilot has
the same practices climbing to small altitudes around eight thousand
feet and picking his landing from that height with motor off. When he
becomes proficient in flying the single- and double-plane types he
leaves the school for another, where shooting with machine guns is
taught.
This course in shooting familiarizes one with various makes of machine
guns used on airplanes, and one learns to shoot at targets from the
air. After two or three weeks the pilot is sent to another school of
combat.
TRICK FLYING AND DOING STUNTS
These schools of combat are connected with the _ecoles de
perfectionnement_ with which the pilot has finished. In the combat
school he learns battle tactics, how to fight singly and in fleet
formation, and how to extract himself from a too dangerous position.
Trips are made in squadron formation and sham battles are effected
with other escadrilles, as the smallest unit of an aerial fleet is
called. For the first time the pilot is allowed to do fancy flying. He
is taught how to loop the loop, slide on his wings or tail, go into
corkscrews and, more important, to get out of them, and is encouraged
to try new stunts.
Finally the pilot is considered well enough trained to be sent to the
reserve, where he waits his call to the front. At the reserve he flies
to keep his hand in, practises on any new make of machine that happens
to come out or that he may be put on in place of the Nieuport, and
receives information regarding old and new makes of enemy airplanes.
At last the pilot receives his call to the front, where he takes his
place in some established or newly formed escadrille. He is given a
new machine from the nearest airplane reserve centre, and he then
begins his active service in the war, which, if he survives the
course, is the best school of them all.
CHAPTER V
AGAINST ODDS
Since the publication of previous editions of "Flying for France" we
have obtained the following letters which add greatly to the interest
and complete the record of McConnell's connection with the Lafayette
Escadrille.
_March 19, 1917._
DEAR PAUL:
We are passing through some very interesting times. The boches are in
full retreat, offering very little resistance to the English and
French advance. The boches have systematically destroyed all the towns
and villages abandoned. Where they haven't burned a house, they have
made holes through the roofs with pickaxes. All the cross-roads are
blown up at the junctions, and when the trees bordering the roads
haven't been cut down, barricading the roads, they have been cut half
way through so that when the wind blows they keep falling on the
passing convoys. The inhabitants left in these villages are wild with
delight and are giving the troops an inspiring reception. In one town
the boches raped all the women before leaving, then locked them down
cellar, and carried off all the young girls with them.
We have been flying low, and watching the cavalry overrunning the
country. The boches are retreating to very strongly fortified
positions, where the advance is going to come up against a stone wall.
This morning Genet and McConnell flew well ahead of the advancing
army, Mac leading. Genet saw two boche planes maneuvering to get
above them, so he began to climb, too. Finally they got together; the
boche was a biplane and had the edge on Genet. Almost the first shot
got Genet in the cheek. Fortunately it was only a deep flesh wound,
and another shot almost broke the stanchion, which supports the wings,
in two. Genet stuck to the boche and opened fire on him. He knows he
hit the machine and at one time he thought he saw the machine on fire,
but nothing happened. At last the boche had Genet in a bad position,
so he (Genet) piqued down about a thousand meters and got away from
the boche. He looked around for Mac but couldn't find him, so he came
home. Mac hasn't yet shown up and we are frightfully worried. Genet
has a dim recollection that when he attacked the boche, the other
boche piqued down in Mac's direction, and it looks as if the boche got
Mac unawares. Late this afternoon we got a report that this morning a
Nieuport was seen to land near Tergnier, which is unfortunately still
in German hands. This must have been Mac's, in which case he is only
wounded, or perhaps only his machine was badly damaged. There is a
general feeling among us that Mac is all right. The French cavalry are
within ten or fifteen kilometers of Tergnier now and perhaps they will
take the place to-morrow, in which case we will certainly learn
something. This afternoon Lieut. de Laage and Lufbery landed at Ham,
where the advance infantry were, and made a lot of inquiries. It was
near this place where the fight started. Nobody had seen any machine
come down. You may be sure I will keep you informed of everything that
turns up. Genet is going to write you in a day or so.
Sincerely,
WALTER (signed Walter Lovell).
P. S. I apologize for the mistakes and the disconnectedness of this
letter, but I wrote it in frightful haste in order to get it in the
first post.
_March 20, 1917._
MY DEAR ROCKWELL:
I do not know if any of the boys have written you about the
disappearance of Jim, so perhaps you might know something about it
when this letter reaches you.
He left yesterday at 8:45 a.m. in his machine for the German lines,
and has not returned yet. He and Genet were attacked by two Germans,
the latter, who received a slight wound on the cheek, was so occupied
he did not see what became of Jim, and returned without him.
The combat took place between Ham and St. Quentin; the territory was
still occupied by the enemy when the combat took place. The worst I
hope has happened to our friend is that perhaps he was wounded and was
forced to land in the enemy's lines and was made prisoner. Nothing
definite is known. I shall write you immediately I get news.
I am extremely worried. To lose my friend would be a severe blow. I
can't and will not believe that anything serious has happened.
Best wishes,
Sincerely,
E. A. MARSHALL.
_Escadrille N. 124, Secteur Postal 182,_
_March 21, 1917._
MY DEAR PAUL:
Had I been feeling less distressed and miserable on Monday morning, or
during yesterday, I would have written you then, but I told Lovell to
tell you how I felt when he wrote on Monday and that I would try and
write in a day or so. I am not feeling much better mentally but I'll
try and write something, for I am the only one who was out with poor
Mac on Monday morning and it just adds that much more to my distress.
As you know, we have had a big advance here, due to the deliberate
evacuation by the Germans, without much opposition, of the territory
now in the hands of the French and English. The advance began last
Thursday night and each day has brought the lines closer to Saint
Quentin and the region north and south of it.
On Monday morning Mac, Parsons, and myself went out at nine o'clock on
the third patrol of the escadrille. We had orders to protect
observation machines along the new lines around the region of Ham. Mac
was leader. I came second and Parsons followed me. Before we had gone
very far Parsons was forced to go back on account of motor trouble,
which handicapped us greatly on account of what followed, but of
course that cannot be remedied because Parsons was perfectly right in
returning when his motor was not running well. We all do that one time
or another.
Mac and I kept on and up to ten o'clock were circling around the
region of Ham, watching out for the heavier machines doing
reconnoitring work below us. We went higher than a thousand meters
during that time. About ten, for some reason or other of his own, Mac
suddenly headed into the German lines toward Saint Quentin and I
naturally followed close to his rear and above him. Perhaps he wanted
to make observations around Saint Quentin. At any rate, we had gotten
north of Ham and quite inside the hostile lines, when I saw two boche
machines crossing towards us from the region of Saint Quentin at an
altitude quite higher than ours. We were then about 1,600 meters. I
supposed Mac saw them the same as I did. One boche was much farther
ahead than the other, and was headed as if he would dive at any moment
on Mac. I glanced ahead at Mac and saw what direction he was taking,
and then pulled back to climb up as quickly as possible to gain an
advantageous height over the nearest boche. It was cloudy and misty
and I had to keep my eyes on him all the time, so naturally I couldn't
watch Mac. The second boche was still much farther off than his mate.
By this time I had gotten to 2,200, the boche was almost up to me and
taking a diagonal course right in front. He started to circle and his
gunner--it was a biplane, probably an Albatross, although the mist was
too thick and dark for me to see much but the bare outline of his
dirty, dark green body, with white and black crosses--opened fire
before I did and his first volley did some damage. One bullet cut the
left central support of my upper wing in half, an explosive bullet cut
in half the left guiding rod of the left aileron, and I was
momentarily stunned by part of it which dug a nasty gouge into my left
cheek. I had already opened fire and was driving straight for the
boche with teeth set and my hand gripping the triggers making a
veritable stream of fire spitting out of my gun at him, as I had
incendiary bullets, it being my job lately to chase after observation
balloons, and on Saturday morning I had also been up after the
reported Zeppelins. I had to keep turning toward the boche every
second, as he was circling around towards me and I was on the inside
of the circle, so his gunner had all the advantage over me. I thought
I had him on fire for one instant as I saw--or supposed I did--flames
on his fuselage. Everything passed in a few seconds and we swung past
each other in opposite directions at scarcely twenty-five meters from
each other--the boche beating off towards the north and I immediately
dived down in the opposite direction wondering every second whether
the broken wing support would hold together or not and feeling weak
and stunned from the hole in my face. A battery opened a heavy fire on
me as I went down, the shells breaking just behind me. I straightened
out over Ham at a thousand meters, and began to circle around to look
for Mac or the other boche, but saw absolutely nothing the entire
fifteen minutes I stayed there. I was fearful every minute that my
whole top wing would come off, and I thought that possibly Mac had
gotten around toward the west over our lines, missed me, and was
already on his way back to camp. So I finally turned back for our
camp, having to fly very low and against a strong northern wind, on
account of low clouds just forming. I got back at a quarter to eleven
and my first question to my mechanic was: "Has McConnell returned?"
He hadn't, Paul, and no news of any sort have we had of him yet,
although we hoped and prayed every hour yesterday for some word to
come in. The one hope that we have is that on account of this
continued advance some news will be brought in of Mac through
civilians who might have witnessed his flight over the lines north of
Ham, while they were still in the hands of the enemy, for many of the
civilians in the villages around there are being left by the Germans
as they retire. We can likewise hope that Mac was merely forced to
land inside the enemy lines on account of a badly damaged machine, or
a bad wound, and is well but a prisoner. I wish to God, Paul, that I
had been able to see Mac during his combat, or had been able to get
down to him sooner and help him. The mists were thick, and
consequently seeing far was difficult. I would have gone out that
afternoon to look for him but my machine was so damaged it took until
yesterday afternoon to be repaired. Lieut. de Laage and Lufbery did
go out with their Spads and looked all around the region north of Ham
towards Saint Quentin but saw nothing at all of a Nieuport on the
ground, or anything else to give news of what had occurred.
The French are still not far enough towards Saint Quentin to be on the
territory where the chances are Mac landed, so we'll still have to
wait for to-day's developments for any possibility of news. I got lots
of hope, Paul, that Mac is at least alive although undoubtedly a
prisoner. I know how badly the news has affected you. We're all
feeling mighty blue over it and as for myself--I'm feeling utterly
miserable over the whole affair. Just as soon as any definite news
comes in I'll surely let you know at once. Meanwhile, keep cheered and
hopeful. There's no use in losing hope yet. If a prisoner Mac may even
be able to escape and return to our lines, on account of the very
unsettled state of the retreating Germans. Others have done so under
much less favorable conditions.
I hope you are having a very enjoyable trip through the South. Walter
showed me the postal you wrote him, which he received yesterday.
Please give my very warm regards to your wife. Write as soon as you
can, too.
Very faithfully yours,
EDMOND C. C. GENET.
_March 22, 1917._
MY DEAR ROCKWELL:
Still no news about Jim. Last night the captain sent out a request to
the military authorities to have our troops advancing in the direction
of Saint Quentin report immediately any particulars about avion 2055.
Even now I cannot reconcile myself concerning Jim's fate. I hope he
has been made prisoner.
Just a few words about myself. I am awaiting the results of my
friends' actions in the States on my behalf. I am placed in a peculiar
position in the escadrille. I have nothing to do here. Shall I take
care of Jim's belongings?
Best wishes,
Sincerely,
E. A. MARSHALL.
_Escadrille N. 124, Secteur Postal 182,_
_March 23, 1917._
DEAR PAUL:
In my letter I promised to send you word as soon as any definite news
came in concerning poor Mac. To-day word came in from a group of
French cavalry that they witnessed our fight on Monday morning and
that they saw Mac brought down inside the German lines towards Saint
Quentin after being attacked by two boche machines and at the same
time they saw me fighting a third one higher than Mac, and that just
as I piqued down Mac fell so there were three boche machines instead
of two, as I supposed, having missed seeing the third one on account
of the heavy clouds and mist around us.
There is still the hope that Mac wasn't killed but only wounded and a
prisoner. If he is we'll learn of it later. The cavalrymen didn't say
whether he came down normally or fell. Possibly he was too far off
really to tell definitely about that. Certainly he had been already
brought down before I could get down to help him after the boche I
attacked beat it off. Had I known there were three boche machines I
certainly would not have played around that boche at such a distance
from Mac.
When will Mrs. Weeks return to Paris from the States? Will you write
and tell her about Mac? She'll be mighty well grieved to hear of it, I
know, and you'll be the best one to break it to her.
Write to me soon. Best regards to Mrs. Rockwell.
E. GENET.
_March 24th, a. m._
_C. Aeronatique, Noyon & D. C. 13._
MY DEAR ROCKWELL:
The targe element informs us that it has found, in the environs of the
Bois l'Abbe, a Nieuport No. 2055. The aviator, a sergeant, has been
dead since three days, in the opinion of the doctor. His pockets
appear to have been searched, for no papers were found on him. The
Bois l'Abbe is two kilometers south of Jussy. The above message
received by us at ten o'clock last night. Jussy is on the main road
between Saint Quentin and Chauny. I expect to go back to the infantry
soon.
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 | 5 |
6