“However that may be, the wind keeps blowing from the west and carries
me farther and farther into the lines. It will not do to allow the
Boche to have this advantage too long: I decide to begin the attack
without losing another second.
“An about face, followed by a sudden double spin, carries me a little
behind my adversary. Profiting by this advantage I dive upon him, but
with a remarkable skill he gets out of range of my machine gun. He has
anticipated my maneuver and parried the blow before it was struck. I
am now aware that I have to do with a master of his art. This first
encounter has proved it to me.
“Making my machine tango from right to left, I saw him again below me
but much nearer than before by at least forty yards.
“Suddenly he noses up as if to begin a looping, and in this awkward
position fires a volley at me which I dodge by a half turn to the
right. A second time I attack but with no more success. The wind
carries us to the north of Mulhouse, and I begin to ask myself if I am
not playing my adversary’s game for him in delaying longer.
“At this moment I chanced to glance in the direction of Belfort, which
was about twelve miles within our lines. I perceived in the air little
white flakes. Evidence of the presence of a Boche.
“A lucky chance! I had now an excuse for abandoning without loss of
honor the match, which I confess I am not at all sorry to leave.
Only before leaving my adversary I feel that I must show him that I
appreciate that he is a valiant foe and respect him as such. Drawing
my left arm out of the fuselage I wave him a sign of adieu. He
understands and desires to show courtesy on his part, for he returns my
farewell.
“All my attention is turned toward him whom I already consider as my
new prey, a big white two-seater of very substantial appearance.
“I draw nearer and nearer to him. Good luck! For the first time since
I have been a chaser I am going to have the good fortune to battle
within our lines. Also this increases my confidence until it makes me
disregard measures of caution, even the science of tactics.
“Another motive impels me to take more than ordinary risks. I am
determined that he shall not escape me, and I make up my mind to shoot
at him until I have won the victory.
“What joy if I can only lodge a ball in his motor, or in his gasoline
tank, which would oblige him to make a landing on French soil! Then
I should be able to speak with the conquered and ask them their
impressions of the aerial duel in which they had just taken part. But
there is an old French proverb which says ‘You must not sell the skin
of the bear before you have killed him.’ I had occasion that day to
prove the wisdom of this as you shall soon see.”
“POOR COUCOU”
“Enough of dreaming! The moment for action has arrived. Quickly I place
myself in the rear and on the tail of my enemy from whom I am separated
by a distance of about fifty yards. Then I open fire with my machine
gun, and continue firing up to the moment when my plane, his superior
in speed, arrives so near the big two-seater that a collision seems
inevitable.
“Quickly I pull up, leap over the obstacle, and fall in a glide on
the right wing. Increasing my speed I re-establish my equilibrium and
prepare to tempt fortune a second time.
“Curse the luck! It is of no use. The motor, the soul of my aeroplane,
has received a mortal wound and is about to draw its last breath.
“Turning my head I discover that the ailerons are also seriously
injured. My enemy fortunately does not seem to wish to profit by
the situation. He continues his flight in the direction of his own
lines. Perhaps I have wounded him very seriously. I hope so. Anyway,
his flight leaves me master of the field. But that is a very small
consolation. And also of short duration; for I am coming down faster
and faster. At last I safely take the ground on the nearest flying
field within gliding distance.
“Pilots, observers, mechanics surround me and besiege me with
questions. They have seen the fight and want the details. For the
moment I do not explain much but that I have encountered a Boche who
does not understand joking! Besides, I was in a hurry to examine
the wounds of my little aeroplane. It is very ill, poor thing!
Three bullets in the motor, the gasoline tank ruined, a strut out
of commission, many holes in the hood, finally the left aileron was
cut and broken off by the bullets. It had made its last flight! Poor
Coucou!”
An admirable story of Lufbery in _Heroes of Aviation_ says in
conclusion:
“To recount all the aerial successes of this American champion is but
to repeat the usual details of his sober inspection of his aeroplane
and his arms before dawn; his calm scrutiny of the skies for the black
crosses of the enemy planes; his adroit maneuvering for the best
position from which to surprise the foe; his determined and patient
attack; his exactness in machine gun marksmanship; his jubilant return
to his comrades with another certain victory on his score.
“During months of his service in France Lufbery suffered from acute
seizures of rheumatism which frequently necessitated his return to
the hospital. Quiet and unassuming in his conversation, Lufbery won
universal respect from the mechanics and affectionate loyalty from his
comrades. Every one who met him felt as Marc Pourpe wrote, ‘He is not a
man, he is an encyclopedia.’
“When America entered the war and began her preparations for her own
Air Service in France, certain of the experienced fighting pilots who
had been fighting for France were given charge of the new American
escadrilles. Lufbery and William Thaw, both original members of N. 124,
the Escadrille Lafayette, were commissioned Majors. To them fell the
task of organizing the eager youths who were to assist in clearing from
the skies of France the invading Huns.
“Possessed of all the honors that his army could bestow upon a noble
Soldier, and wracked with physical pains that were daily increased by
inclement weather, an ordinary man would have been satisfied to seek
his ease and fill his required duties with the instructions to his
pilots. But Major Lufbery instructed by example, not by speech. Not
unmindful of his value to his comrades as their mentor and commander
and impelled by an ardor that knew no rest, Lufbery continued his
active patrolling, exposed himself to every risk.”