So it was that Lufbery, as Pourpe’s mechanic, found himself in France
when the war storm burst. Pourpe, who had a new type of plane, promptly
enlisted as a flyer for his beloved France. As an American Lufbery
could not be accepted except as a member of the Foreign Legion, which
he hastened to join in the expectation that he could be transferred
thence to service with his friend, which was done. But they were not
long together at the front. Pourpe was killed the first or second of
December, 1914.
Thereupon Lufbery applied for admission to the regular French air
service, which was granted and in a short time he was on the front
with the Escadrille of bombardment, V. 102.
But it was not until he joined the newly organized Escadrille Lafayette
that his career of distinction began. His first victim was brought
down, over Etain, July 30, 1916, the second five days later. He was
cited by the French Government thus:
“A model of address, of coolness, of courage. He has distinguished
himself by numerous long distance bombardments and by the daily combats
he has had with enemy aeroplanes. On July 30 he unhesitatingly attacked
at close range four enemy machines. He shot one of them down near our
own lines. He successfully brought down a second on the 4th of August,
1916.”
His record grew apace. He got his third August 8, his fourth August
12, his fifth October 12, and became an “Ace.” In December he brought
down two in one day after a fight that nearly cost him his life as his
jacket was torn with bullets. That victory gained him the award of the
Legion of Honor. Incidentally, he was the first American to receive
from England the British Military Cross which was conferred on him June
12, 1917, when his record had mounted to ten enemy planes.
That tenth plane exploit, by the way, was memorable. Lufbery was alone
at an altitude of 18,000 feet when, at a distance, he saw a formation
of seven Boche machines. Two of them were two-seater observation
machines, the others were the protective escort. He flew into the sun
to wait for a chance to attack. Soon one of the seven cut loose from
the others, and immediately Lufbery dived for it and began firing,
taking the enemy by surprise. After thirty shots or so his gun jammed,
but no more shots were necessary. The enemy machine wobbled, shifted
and began its downward plunge, and as Lufbery volplaned away he saw the
wrecked machine crash into the German trenches.
In an article written for the French publication _La Guerre Aérienne_,
Lufbery describes an encounter he had one day when he was sent scouting
over the Vosges, the panoramic beauty of which had so enthralled him
he flew in sheer delight of the vision, nevertheless “all the time on
guard.”
Suddenly an enemy appeared a little below and behind him. He wrote:
“It is a little one-seater biplane of the Fokker or Halberstadt
type. A glance around assures me that he is alone. I am surprised at
this, for it is certainly the first time that a machine of this sort
has deliberately placed itself in a position so disadvantageous for
fighting. Perhaps it is a trap. One never knows! If it only may prove
to be a beginner, lacking experience, who listens to nothing but his
courage in his purpose to become one of the great Aces of his country.”