Darkness was coming rapidly on but Prince and Lufbery remained in
the air to protect the bombardment fleet. Just at nightfall Lufbery
made for a small aviation field near the lines, known as Corcieux.
Slow-moving machines, with great planing capacity, can be landed in
the dark, but to try and feel for the ground in a Nieuport, which
comes down at about a hundred miles an hour, is to court disaster. Ten
minutes after Lufbery landed Prince decided to make for the field. He
spiraled down through the night air and skimmed rapidly over the trees
bordering the Corcieux field. In the dark he did not see a high-tension
electric cable that was stretched just above the tree tops. The landing
gear of his airplane struck it. The machine snapped forward and hit
the ground on its nose. It turned over and over. The belt holding
Prince broke and he was thrown far from the wrecked plane. Both of
his legs were broken and he naturally suffered internal injuries. In
spite of the terrific shock and his intense pain Prince did not lose
consciousness. He even kept his presence of mind and gave orders to
the men who had run to pick him up. Hearing the hum of a motor, and
realizing a machine was in the air, Prince told them to light gasolene
fires on the field. "You don't want another fellow to come down and
break himself up the way I've done," he said.
Lufbery went with Prince to the hospital in Gérardmer. As the ambulance
rolled along Prince sang to keep up his spirits. He spoke of getting
well soon and returning to service. It was like Norman. He was always
energetic about his flying. Even when he passed through the harrowing
experience of having a wing shattered, the first thing he did on
landing was to busy himself about getting another fitted in place and
the next morning he was in the air again.
No one thought that Prince was mortally injured but the next day he
went into a coma. A blood clot had formed on his brain. Captain Haff in
command of the aviation groups of Luxeuil, accompanied by our officers,
hastened to Gerardmer. Prince lying unconscious on his bed, was named a
second lieutenant and decorated with the Legion of Honour. He already
held the Médaille Militaire and Croix de Guerre. Norman Prince died on
the 15th of October. He was brought back to Luxeuil and given a funeral
similar to Rockwell's. It was hard to realize that poor old Norman had
gone. He was the founder of the American escadrille and every one in
it had come to rely on him. He never let his own spirits drop, and was
always on hand with encouragement for the others. I do not think Prince
minded going. He wanted to do his part before being killed, and he had
more than done it. He had, day after day, freed the line of Germans,
making it impossible for them to do their work, and three of them he
had shot to earth.
Two days after Prince's death the escadrille received orders to leave
for the Somme. The night before the departure the British gave the
American pilots a farewell banquet and toasted them as their "Guardian
Angels." They keenly appreciated the fact that four men from the
American escadrille had brought down four Germans, and had cleared the
way for their squadron returning from Oberndorf. When the train pulled
out the next day the station platform was packed by khaki-clad pilots
waving good-bye to their friends the "Yanks."
The escadrille passed through Paris on its way to the Somme front.
The few members who had machines flew from Luxeuil to their new post.
At Paris the pilots were reënforced by three other American boys who
had completed their training. They were: Fred Prince, who ten months
before had come over from Boston to serve in aviation with his brother
Norman; Willis Haviland, of Chicago, who left the American Ambulance
for the life of a birdman, and Bob Soubrian, of New York, who had been
transferred from the Foreign Legion to the flying corps after being
wounded in the Champagne offensive....
(Here Jim McConnell continues to relate his adventures in the air,
describing how France trains her air pilots. His book also contains
many interesting letters from him. And, then, alas, he, too, fell from
the clouds on that fatal day in March, 1917, and went to a hero's
grave.--EDITOR.)