Raining. Epiez is about 12 kilometers from Toul, on the side of a hill. The name for this place on the map is Amanty.. The camp is hidden in a forest, with wooden barracks and 12 big hangars built for a French Bombing Squadron. The buildings are all scattered around, with plenty of space between them so that no bomber will ever get more than one building with one bomb. The Adran barracks are long shacks made of pin boards and tar paper. They have shuttered windows with no glass or screens. Dewey and I have set ourselves up in a double room on the end, so we have two windows. The Front Lines are a good distance away but the boom of the guns can be heard when the wind is right. Listening to them in the night really brings home the reality that there IS a war going on.
Found out that Davey and the 95th Aero just left this place about 10 days ago for Toul. Hope we'll be joining them soon.
Some of our Nieuports were waiting for us and the mechanics, who do all the work while we have all the fun, were busy tinkering, testing and polishing our little birds till they gleamed in the sun like Birds of Paradise. At every spare moment, we sneak down to hangars, just to look at them and gloat.
The Anti-Aircraft Artillery woke us up this morning. A German was circling at a high altitude over the aerodrome like a big buzzard. A few pilots took off to chase him but the Hun was too high and was long gone before most of them could even get off the ground. It laid it's eggs on some unfortunates in a nearby camp.
May 17th 1918
Weather was good for flying. The Chinese Aces(1) from Orly were flying in more of our birds all day, cracking up 2 of every 3. The planes are rather fragile and when they wash out they're usually a total loss. We should have been flying them in instead of taking a train from Paris, It's frustrating to see so much waste, especially at $18.500 apiece, which I am told is cheap but that's a lot of taxpayer dough and more than Daddy has ever earned in a year, even after he got that big church.
Took my first jazz(2) in a Nieuport 28! Greatest thing with wings you ever saw! Lovely lines, wonderfully wired, very elegant long tail, a real doozy! Cockpit is cramped but tolerable. The rudder bars are a little close for me and any attempt to stretch my legs is rewarded with scorched feet from the engine, which gives off heat like a cast iron stove. The rest of me may freeze but I'l have toasty warm feet.
I climbed the ladder and squeezed into the office (3), the ground crew checked the pants leg (4), turned the ship into the wind and chocked the wheels. A crewman yelled "SWITCH ON" as he pulled the prop. I repeated "SWITCH ON" and the engine roared to life, and I do mean roared. The noise was deafening. It left me in no doubt about the power of a 165 hp Gnome Monosoupape Rotary, 2 hp for every pound of plane. The thing was like a plow horse pulling for all it was worth. I held back on the stick and the mechanics were holding the wings, but even then, the little thoroughbred was straining at the chocks. We have a signal worked out with the crew, you run up the RPMs, nod your head for them to pull the chocks with long ropes, then your off like a shot. The tail is up within 15-20 feet and the next thing you know you're airborne. It has a strong tendency to nose up on takeoff but the torque is not nearly so strong as on the Clergets we flew with at Issoudun. RPM is controlled by a selector switch to increase or decrease the spark interval, so it's not just full on or full off, there are three settings and off. There is, of course the blip switch on the stick too. It burns almost as much castor oil as gas.
These things maneuver like a bird in flight, you almost feel as if they're responding to your thoughts, as if it were an extension of yourself. They whip around on a dime, with no vibration in a turn.
A couple of complaints, like everything else, Forward vision is very limited and the windshield is too far forward for me so I had little protection from the wind and castor oil flying back in my face, got the trots from that. When I get my own bird I'll have it moved back. And the rudder bars, of course.
They're a little tricky to land, the tail is so light that if you bounce too much or hit soft ground, there's nothing to stop the machine from going over on it's back. We've had two mishaps, Wolf Healy ground looped, but he's Okay. Abe crashed a bird coming in for a landing, getting a nasty cut on his chin. The Major chewed him up and spit him our, threatened to send him back to Issoudun. Really put the fear on God into him!
At dinner, the Major announced that Ken Porter will be Acting Squadron Commander while he works on getting things in order for our next move, to Toul. Pip Porter was made temporary Flight Commander for A Flight, Alk will lead B and Whitey will take charge of C Flight. I'm in Alk's Flight. He introduced three new officers, Lt. Rosenblum will be our pill roller, Lt. Walker is Operations Officer and a Lt. Roberts, an Ordinance man on loan from the 103rd Aero, is here to supervise installation and Synchronization of our Vickers.
We are now officially assigned to he 1st Pursuit Group along with the 94th, 95th, both now at Gengoult Field near Toul, and 27th Squadrons.
After the meal we challenged the mechanics to a baseball game. Pip got a hit with bases loaded and two outs. His was the only outfield hit of the game. That hit snatched victory from the jaws of defeat for us, 8 to 7.
(1) Chinese Ace - slang, poor pilot (2) Jazz - ride (3) Office -slang, cockpit (4) Pants leg - slang, windsock
