The work has been going very well since last I wrote you, which was only two or three days ago. I told you about at last leaving the blessed roller; I never was so relieved in my life. The first evening in the decollé class, I was requisitioned to turn tails and the morning after there was too much wind to work. The decollé is the one where you go up two or three metres and settle down by cutting speed. The first time I had three sorties in the wind, bounced around a lot, but did no damage. The next time was first thing in the morning. Two metres up on the first, four or five on the fifth—strictly against orders. I even had to piqué—point the machine toward the ground—a little, which is not at all comme il faut in the decollé. But these Frenchmen are funny chaps—sometimes they will get terribly angry and punish one for disobeying, and again they will be tickled to death with it. If I had smashed while doing more than I was so told to, there would have been a lot of trouble; as it was, no objection—and the monitor personally conducted me to the piqué class with a very nice recommendation.
Now there are two piqué classes: one with a piste about a quarter of a mile long, in which one is supposed to do little more than decollé, get up about five metres and piqué un tout petit peu—hardly at all. After comes the advanced piqué with a much longer piste on which one can get up 100 metres (300 feet). On my first sortie in the piqué, I was told to roll on the ground all the way, so continuing my policy, did a low decollé. Next I was supposed to do a two metre decollé, so went up ten and piquéd. Had ten sorties in that class one morning, getting as high as I could—about twenty metres—and went to the advanced piqué that night—last night. Four sorties there last night with a machine with a poor motor, so didn’t get up over a hundred feet.
And this morning I did my first real aviating. There was a bit of wind blowing, so the monitor, Mr. Moses, only let a Lieutenant and me go up, as we had gone better than the others last night. First it was a bit rainy and always bumpy as the deuce—air puffs and pockets which require the entire corrective force of the wing warp and rudder to overcome. My last sortie was decidedly active. The wind had developed into a bit of a breeze which is to a Blériot like a rough sea to a row boat. Two or three times I got a puff that tipped the machine way over—put the controls over as far as I could and waited. It seemed a minute before she straightened. The trouble was that the machine was climbing and therefore not going very fast. If I had piqued, it would have corrected quicker. I had no trouble at all in making the landing. Hopping out of the machine, I saw the head monitor rushing over to Mr. Moses on the double, shouting volubly in French and berating him severely. I gathered that he had been watching my manoeuvres, expecting something to fall every instant, and that he strenuously objected to Moses’ letting me go up. Work stopped there for the morning, and it was very fully explained to me what the trouble was. If I have some sorties there tonight, I go to Tour de Piste (Flying Field) in the morning. I may be on Nieuport in two weeks.
I am now beginning to see the advantages of the Blériot training. There is a great deal of preliminary work on or near the ground. In all other aviation training, such as at Newport News, 90 per cent of the work is in making landings—in piquéing down, redressing at the proper moment and making gradual connections with the earth. I haven’t made a really bad landing yet and the reason is that I have been in a machine so much on and near the ground, that I have sort of developed a sense or feel of it, and almost automatically redress correctly, and settle easily. Also I can tell pretty closely what is flying speed because of the work on the rollers. It’s the same way with all the other students only I know it now from my own experience.
And this morning I began to realize that my hundred minutes at Newport News was invaluable. I not only found out some of the tricks of a master hand (Carlstrom) but also developed a bit of confidence in the air, and air sense, without which I could have got into trouble this morning. My bumpy ride this morning is absolutely invaluable. I’ll probably never have so much trouble in the air again, because a fast machine or even a Blériot with a good motor, would hardly have noticed these puffs. It was a bit risky, I guess, or the head monitor would not have been worried, but now that it’s over, I know a lot more.