When it is considered that this incident occurred at a height of 16, feet, over hostile territory, and that during the airman"s terribly precarious ride he was subject to antiaircraft fire, and liable to the attack of hostile scouts, it is not too much to say that his was a record achievement.
Recently, another airman was shot down, out of control, from 13, feet, and fell fluttering like a leaf, toward the ground. At a height of 9,000 feet he fainted. Shortly afterward he came to and found himself in the machine upside down, in a marsh, absolutely unhurt. Many airmen, of course, have been through several "crashes" without sustaining so much as a broken collar bone.
JOINS THE SKY FIGHTERS
This story of Lieut. Manderson Lehr, who refused a transfer home and shortly after died in combat, is taken (by permission) from his personal letters written to a friend in this country. It is typical of many that might be told by or about brilliant young Americans who would not wait for America"s partic.i.p.ation in the war, but went voluntarily, with high hearts and eager hands, to help those other boys of France and the British Empire to whom had fallen so large and so momentous a part in the world"s salvation.
Nearly all of these American lads, the choicest spirits of our nation, took up whatever work they could find--anything, so long as it was useful, or contributed in any way to winning out against the German hordes, or stem the flood of German crime that was sweeping over Europe, that would later, if it were not stopped, cover our continent with an inundation of blood and desolation. Most of them, like Lieutenant Lehr, went into ambulance service; and afterward when the air planes were ready and needed men to fly them, took to the air. These were the men who "put out the eyes" of the German armies and piloted the allies to many a victory. And alas! Many of them, like Lehr, gave up their lives--though not in vain, nor without having sent down to crashing death, each one, his share of the flyers of the foe.
LEHR"S STORY
Lieutenant Lehr"s story begins with a letter from France just after his arrival in Paris on May 15, 1917, when he joined the Ambulance Corps--later entering the air service. It covered a period of more than a year"s experiences at the front.
The last letter from Lieut. Lehr was dated June 14th, 1918, when the big German drive was about at its climax. According to news reports from the front Lehr had a period of intense activity up to July 15th, when he was reported missing. "Bud" was regarded as one of the most adept of American fliers.
One of the last news reports from the front told of him still flying under French colors and having twice returned from raids with his pa.s.senger killed by enemy attacks and of his being awarded the war cross. The same report told of a 150 mile raid into Germany with eight other French Machines--when a patrol of twelve German planes were attacked and three of them sent down in flames, while all the nine French machines returned safely.
The following are a few of Lehr"s later letters from the front:
FLYING AT THE FRONT
Sector----at the Front, Oct. 12, 1917.--It"s blowing terrifically, wind and rain. You can"t imagine how I picture you people at home, warm, happy and safe. I"ve been out here a week now. Three days of it has been flying weather. Up 25,000 feet and ten miles into Germany is my record so far and I"ve actually had one combat with a boche. He was below me, at first, far in the distance. I was supposed to be protecting a bombing expedition of ten machines. I saw this spot, started away from the rest and through excitement, antic.i.p.ation and the goodness knows what, I climbed, went faster and faster until I had the sun between us and the German below me. Then I dived; he heard me and "banked"; we both looped and then came head on, firing incessantly.
My machine gun was empty and the boche had more, for he got in behind me and "Putt! Putt! Putt!" past my ear he came, so I dove, went into a "vrille" with him on top, came out and squared off, and he let me have it again. All I could do was to maneuver, for I had no sh.e.l.ls left and I did not want to beat it, so I stuck. We both came head on again and I said a little prayer, but the next time I looked Mr. Boche was going home. I "peaked" straight down, made my escadrille, accompanied them home and when I got out of my furs I was wringing wet in spite of the fact it was cold as ice where I had done my fighting.
CONSIDERS HIS OWN TACTICS
I looked my machine over and found five holes in it, but nothing serious. Tomorrow is going to be bad and no one will fly unless they call for volunteers, and then I think most of us will go. I"d like to figure out what I did wrong. First of all, I was so excited that I fired all my shots at the German and he maneuvered out of my way and then came at me as I was helpless. My captain gave me "harkey" for staying when out of bullets, so I guess the rest was O.K., but I"d hate to run from any boche.
MEN DIE IN FAULTY PLANES
The machine I"ve been flying has been condemned, so I expect to be sent back to get another one, a brand new one that has never been on the front. Twenty-five pilots in the last month have been killed by wings dropping off. I"ve seen twelve go and it surely takes the old pep out of you. I was above one and saw his wing crumple, then fall. A man is so utterly helpless he must merely sit there and wait to be killed, and when you"re flying the same type of machine it doesn"t help your confidence any. I was glad they condemned mine, for I"ve put my old "cuckoo" through some awful tests and it"s about ready to fall apart.
We expect to change soon and go up to a new offensive in F----. If I get through that I"m going to change over to the American army. They have offered me a commission and I think I"ll take it. My fingers are cramped and my feet have long since been numb. Now I"m going to wrap up in my fur leathers and go to bed. This is war.
FIGHTS WITH FLYING CIRCUS
Feb. 1, 1918.--Had a great time this last week, and made six long bombardments. For the first three times we had no trouble getting across whatsoever. Coming out the last three times we got some real compet.i.tion. It was in the form of the flying circus or "tangoes," which consists of fifteen of the best pilots in Germany, commanded by Baron von Richthofen, who seems a good sort, for when you fight him and you both miss he waves and we wave back. We had been at it consistently for four days, and so they sent these birds down opposite us to stop us. We had been in Germany for some distance and had reached our objective and bombed it. There was a heavy fog below us, so I took a couple of turns to make sure we could see our objective. We dropped our bombs and then I turned to the right to see the damage. I had to take a large turn, for the "archies" were shooting pretty close. I looked for my escadrille, and saw these machines way off in the distance. I started for them and soon caught up with them. Then I swerved and dipped up to them, for I thought them a little strange. I got up closer, and, wow! all three dived at me like a rock and bullets flew by me, cutting my plane, so I pulled up at them, fired, swerved so my gunner could let them have it also and then saw the iron cross flash by, so I knew it was the Huns. I started getting alt.i.tude and went up high and then the boches got the sun between them and my plane and came again, but I thought this would happen and "peaked." They went under me and that left me on top, so I gave them about 120 bullets, and one went for home. The other two came by again and I went into a tight spiral so my gunner could pump at them--but nothing doing. They beat it home and so did I, for it had been three to one. When I landed I had five holes in my machine. One of the wires had been shot away and gave me some trouble in landing.
Feb. 10, 1918.--We have been pretty busy and had some exciting times. I almost got mine day before yesterday and feel pretty lucky to be here.
We started out on a long trip into Germany and all the way over we had no trouble at all. After we bombed, my observer and I dived down on some villages and used our own guns on them. We got so low that the anti-aircraft guns were popping too close, so we beat it. We soon saw a bunch of hangars below us and we dived down on them and shot at them. In a few minutes a bunch of Huns came up from the hangars after us and we beat it to catch up with the others. We got up with them and looked behind us and there were a number of Germans sneaking down on us.
Then the battle commenced and for forty minutes we had a hot fight. We picked off (censored) of them and they went plunging down in flames.
Then the others went back and we all returned safely, but I noticed that my machine worked queerly, and when I landed I had a hard time, and barely got to the ground without smashing to pieces.
I looked the machine over, and you should have seen it. From top to bottom it was one ma.s.s of holes. One bullet pa.s.sed through my combination and hit a can of tobacco. Another cut a main spar on one of my wings, and another hit my stabilizer, tearing it half in two. One other hit my gas tank and put a hole clear through it. Luckily my gas was low and it did not explode, but, believe me, I was lucky.
IN THE BIG GERMAN DRIVE
April 20, 1918.--The orderly has just tapped on my window to put down my shade, which means the Gothas are on their way. The guns are starting.
This attack has been frightful--day after day long lines of ambulances roll by our camp carrying large numbers of wounded. Tomorrow we shall continue our work of knocking down their batteries and bombing their railroads. To-night, now, they are trying to get us.
I started on a "permission" about three weeks ago and had beautiful visions of peace and content for a week, but was called back immediately at the beginning of this horrible attack. Things look bad, and in a few days we are moving farther up.
Our work here has been hard and exciting and always working in any kind of weather. While our loss has been heavy we have accomplished wonders.
Going over on cloudy days when the heavy black clouds hang down to within fifty meters of the ground, spotting a group of trucks, a line of cars, or a battery of troops, then bombing them, shooting them up with your machine guns and shooting back up into the clouds midst a rain of luminous machine gun bullets from the ground is interesting work. But the terror of those on the ground, poor devils! Yet it"s got to be brought home. Out of twenty-four trips we lost eight machines.
Poor Chuck Kerwood was among them. Chuck is an American boy from Philadelphia, and he has been with us for five months.
I had a chance to go back to the states as an instructor, and almost took it, but when the time came around to leave this band of men who have been in it for almost four years, I couldn"t do it. They are men, and have pulled me out of tight holes when I was green at this game, and they did it at the risk of their lives. Now I"ve seen them drop off one at a time, fine young Frenchmen, and I guess the least I can do is to stay right by them and I feel my work is here.
In Hospital, May 3, 1918.--Well, here I am at last, but I fooled them for six months. Finally one slipped up behind me. I never saw him, but felt him. Only got it in the leg, so it isn"t very serious, except that the bullet was incendiary. They have oodles of sulphur on them and I"m afraid of complications. This is a nice hospital in a nice location; only thing that I hate about it is that I may not be able to get back to my escradrille for fifteen or twenty days.
SEVERE BOMBING BY GERMANS
May 16, 1918--Going to have another operation tomorrow and then I think I"ll be well. And, believe me, if I am I am going back and get somebody for this. We are now on the Somme, near Rouen. I suppose you know Baron von Richthofen has been brought down. I"m sorry, for he was a game, clean sc.r.a.pper, and I know, for I"ve had several brushes with him. The Huns came over here last night and dropped sixty bombs, killing people and wounding I don"t know how many. Several of the bombs. .h.i.t about 300 meters from here and our beds shook like the d.i.c.kens.
COMMENTS ON HIS WAR CROSS
At the Front, June 14, 1918.--I"ve been back here from the hospital for several days and we are having beautiful weather, doing lots of work and losing lots of men, but getting results. I think by now you have all my letters explaining the change into the American army and the croix de guerre, which doesn"t signify a great deal. Things look pretty bad now, but the French are holding strong with the constant arrival of Americans and I think the Hun advance is stopped. We have been working at very low alt.i.tudes and while we have lost men heavily the work was extremely effective. We have been shifted from one part of the front to another so that one hardly has time to unpack before we go to a new attack. Our car has a broken piston, so we have had to walk more than usual and my leg gets so worn out in a short time that it is slow going.
GREAT FRENCH FLYER BRINGS DOWN
At the beginning of the year, Lieut. Rene Fonck, the great French flyer and ace of aces of all the belligerent forces, had only nineteen successes to his credit, but during the last days of fighting the wily Lieutenant scored many victories bringing his totals up to seventy five enemy airplanes officially destroyed, with forty more probable successes awaiting official verification. The final list of Lieut Fonck is all the more astonishing when it is considered that he made flights only when he thought himself in the fittest condition, and every time he flew he triumphed over the German Aviators. His wonderful success is accredited to his incomparable tactics, keen eyesight and most remarkable skill.
OTHER CHAMPIONS OF THE AIR
Among other champion flyers of the allied forces Major Bishop of the British is credited with seventy-two victories; Lieutenant Coppens of Belgium, wounded during the late fighting, and with a leg amputated, holds the record of thirty-six victories; Lieutenant Baracchini the Italian flyer has thirty victories to his credit; Eddie Rickenbacker the American ace is responsible for twenty-four enemy victims, and Edward Parsons, another American flyer is credited with eight official victories and seven more unconfirmed. Captain Kosakoff the Russian ace held seventeen successes to his credit at the close of Russias fighting.
ENEMY ACES ALSO SCORE
Lieutenant Udet of Germany is the ace of enemy aces and holds the record of sixty victories; Captain Brunmwsky of the Austrian forces is next with thirty-four to his credit; Sergeant Fiselier the German flyer serving for Bulgaria is credited with seven victims, and Captain Schults also a German serving for Turkey had eleven victories.
QUENTIN ROOSEVELT LOSES HIS LIFE
On Sunday July 14th, 1918, a violent encounter took place between German battleplanes and American Air forces trying to break through the German defense over the Marne. In this engagement Lieut, Quentin Roosevelt was brought down and killed near Chambry, then behind the German lines. He was buried with military honors by German airmen, at the spot where he fell. His grave was located later by one of his fellow air scouts.
AMERICAN AVIATOR GETS IRON CROSS
One of the remarkable feats performed by Yankee air men, was that of Lieut. Wm. T. Webb Jr. of Buffalo, a member of an American squadron which encountered a German battleplane while flying over the German lines. The American flyers surrounded the German Fokker like a flock of birds, and instead of shooting it down, which would have been easy, they maneuvered their planes so the boche machine was forced toward the American lines. The German airmen fought desperately, but in vain, to break through, and was forced lower and lower to the ground. Upon reaching the ground he refused to stop his motor until, after b.u.mping over two fields, a bullet was fired through his gas tank setting it afire. The two Germans jumped from the machine to the ground uninjured.
Both wore iron crosses. Lieut. Webb landed his machine, jumped out, grabbed an iron cross from one of the terrified Germans, and rose again to join his companions.
EYES OF THE ARMY ALWAYS OPEN
Few civilians have any idea of the intense, close watch that was kept upon the enemy throughout the struggle. Soldiers on "listening post"
would crawl out every night to and sometimes into the enemy lines and on their return report what they had heard. By day, aviators came back from flights over enemy positions and gave details of what they had seen.
Every hill, tree-top, church spire, tall building and captive balloon watched every move of the enemy and reported it. These reports by the ears and eyes of the armies enabled American and allied commanders to plan their infantry and artillery attacks.
AMERICAN INFORMATION SERVICE CHART