The memory of the first sortie we made as an escadrille will always
remain fresh in my mind because it was also my first trip over the
lines. We were to leave at six in the morning. Captain Thénault pointed
out on his aërial map the route we were to follow. Never having flown
over this region before, I was afraid of losing myself. Therefore,
as it is easier to keep other airplanes in sight when one is above
them, I began climbing as rapidly as possible, meaning to trail along
in the wake of my companions. Unless one has had practice in flying
in formation, however, it is hard to keep in contact. The diminutive
_avions de chasse_ are the merest pinpoints against the great sweep of
landscape below and the limitless heavens above. The air was misty and
clouds were gathering. Ahead there seemed a barrier of them. Although
as I looked down the ground showed plainly, in the distance everything
was hazy. Forging up above the mist, at 7,000 feet, I lost the others
altogether. Even when they are not closely joined, the clouds, seen
from immediately above, appear as a solid bank of white. The spaces
between are indistinguishable. It is like being in an Arctic ice field.
To the south I made out the Alps. Their glittering peaks projected up
through the white sea about me like majestic icebergs. Not a single
plane was visible anywhere, and I was growing very uncertain about
my position. My splendid isolation had become oppressive, when, one
by one, the others began bobbing up above the cloud level, and I had
company again.
We were over Belfort and headed for the trench lines. The cloud banks
dropped behind, and below us we saw the smiling plain of Alsace
stretching eastward to the Rhine. It was distinctly pleasurable, flying
over this conquered land. Following the course of the canal that runs
to the Rhine, I sighted, from a height of 13,000 feet over Dannemarie,
a series of brown, woodworm-like tracings on the ground--the trenches!
My attention was drawn elsewhere almost immediately, however. Two balls
of black smoke had suddenly appeared close to one of the machines ahead
of me, and with the same disconcerting abruptness similar balls began
to dot the sky above, below, and on all sides of us. We were being shot
at with shrapnel. It was interesting to watch the flash of the bursting
shells, and the attendant smoke puffs--black, white, or yellow,
depending on the kind of shrapnel used. The roar of the motor drowned
the noise of the explosions. Strangely enough, my feelings about it
were wholly impersonal.
We turned north after crossing the lines. Mulhouse seemed just below
us, and I noted with a keen sense of satisfaction our invasion of real
German territory. The Rhine, too, looked delightfully accessible. As
we continued northward I distinguished the twin lakes of Gérardmer
sparkling in their emerald setting. Where the lines crossed the
Hartmannsweilerkopf there were little spurts of brown smoke as shells
burst in the trenches. One could scarcely pick out the old city of
Thann from among the numerous neighbouring villages, so tiny it seemed
in the valley's mouth. I had never been higher than 7,000 feet and was
unaccustomed to reading country from a great altitude. It was also
bitterly cold, and even in my fur-lined combination I was shivering.
I noticed, too, that I had to take long, deep breaths in the rarefied
atmosphere. Looking downward at a certain angle, I saw what at first I
took to be a round, shimmering pool of water. It was simply the effect
of the sunlight on the congealing mist. We had been keeping an eye out
for German machines since leaving our lines, but none had shown up. It
wasn't surprising, for we were too many.
Only four days later, however, Rockwell brought down the escadrille's
first plane in his initial aërial combat. He was flying alone when,
over Thann, he came upon a German on reconnaissance. He dived and the
German turned toward his own lines, opening fire from a long distance.
Rockwell kept straight after him. Then, closing to within thirty yards,
he pressed on the release of his machine gun, and saw the enemy gunner
fall backward and the pilot crumple up sideways in his seat. The plane
flopped downward and crashed to earth just behind the German trenches.
Swooping close to the ground Rockwell saw its débris burning away
brightly. He had turned the trick with but four shots and only one
German bullet had struck his Nieuport. An observation post telephoned
the news before Rockwell's return, and he got a great welcome. All
Luxeuil smiled upon him--particularly the girls. But he couldn't stay
to enjoy his popularity. The escadrille was ordered to the sector of
Verdun.
While in a way we were sorry to leave Luxeuil, we naturally didn't
regret the chance to take part in the aërial activity of the world's
greatest battle. The night before our departure some German aircraft
destroyed four of our tractors and killed six men with bombs, but even
that caused little excitement compared with going to Verdun. We would
get square with the Boches over Verdun, we thought--it is impossible to
chase airplanes at night, so the raiders made a safe getaway....
The fast-flowing stream of troops, and the distressing number of
ambulances brought realization of the near presence of a gigantic
battle.
Within a twenty-mile radius of the Verdun front aviation camps abound.
Our escadrille was listed on the schedule with the other fighting
units, each of which has its specified flying hours, rotating so there
is always an _escadrille de chasse_ over the lines. A field wireless to
enable us to keep track of the movements of enemy planes became part of
our equipment.
Lufbery joined us a few days after our arrival. He was followed by
Johnson and Balsley, who had been on the air guard over Paris. Hill and
Rumsey came next, and after them Masson and Pavelka. Nieuports were
supplied them from the nearest depot, and as soon as they had mounted
their instruments and machine guns, they were on the job with the rest
of us. Fifteen Americans are or have been members of the American
Escadrille, but there have never been so many as that on duty at any
one time.