Chapter 12

Flying Ace in World War I

“How would you like to go to Europe as an Army staff automobile driver?” asked Major Lewis by long distance telephone. He was a friend of Eddie’s, now at Army staff headquarters in Washington D.C.

“Right now it sounds wonderful,” replied Eddie, “but let me think it over.”

That night he lay awake, thinking about this surprising offer. Finally he decided to accept, hoping that somehow he might get an opportunity to become a flyer. In Europe he was soon driving a staff car for Colonel William “Billy” Mitchell. A short time later he asked Colonel Mitchell to be transferred to some form of air service, but the Colonel simply said, “Forget it. Forget it.”

Eddie kept watching for an opportunity to learn to fly. Soon he met an old friend, Captain James Miller, who was in charge of building a base for a flying school at Issoudun, outside of Paris. Captain Miller offered him a job as chief engineering officer at the new base, and agreed to let him take flying lessons. The Captain asked Colonel Mitchell to transfer Eddie, and this time the Colonel let him go. Eddie went to the Tours flying school and earned his wings and the bars of a first lieutenant. Then he reported to the Issoudun field to start his new post.

As chief engineering officer at the base, he selected and purchased tools and equipment for the machine shops and maintenance crews. He had to work night and day to get the machine shops ready in time for the first flying students to arrive.

After Eddie learned to fly, he wanted to get combat training. Whenever possible he practiced doing the tailspin, loop, and other necessary maneuvers for combat flying. As a final step, he attended a gunnery school.

In March 1918, he joined the 94th Aero Pursuit Squadron. This squadron, which included twenty pilots and about sixty mechanics, was the first all-American unit ready for combat. It was stationed near Villeneuve, about fifteen miles behind the front lines.

The chief trainer for the Squadron was Major Raoul Lufbery. He had flown for several years with the French Air Force before the United States entered the war. The pilots listened to Luf carefully because he had won many air victories. “When you’re on patrol see everything possible,” he said. “When you’re engaged in an air battle, find the enemy’s weakest spot.”

As Luf sized up his pilots, he picked out Eddie as one of the best. He chose him and Lieutenant Douglas Campbell to fly with him in the squadron’s first patrol over German lines. “Look out for Archie, the German’s anti-aircraft fire,” warned their fellow pilots.

Luf and the two other pilots walked out to their wooden-framed, unarmed airplanes. They put on their fur-lined flying suits, pulled down their furlined leather helmets, and climbed into their seats. Excitedly they adjusted their flying goggles and waited for the mechanics to spin their propellers. Then, with a roar, they took off.

They rose to a height of 15,000 feet and crossed the front lines between Rheims and Verdun. As Eddie looked down, he was shocked to see so much barren land. He couldn’t even see a tree left standing after three years of war.

Suddenly his airplane rocked from the blast of a German shell, which burst nearby. At once shells started to burst all around him, giving out puffs of black smoke. He realized that these shells were coming from a German anti-aircraft battery far below. He soon learned to adjust his airplane to the blasts of the shells. In fact, he began to enjoy this contest of wits with the anti-aircraft gunners.

The other pilots and the mechanics were waiting when Major Lufbery and his two companions taxied back to the hangers. “Did Archie bother you?” they asked. “Did you see any enemy airplanes?”

“No, we saw only shells bursting around us,” said Eddie.

Major Lufbery chuckled. “I’m sorry to contradict you,” he said, “but three groups of enemy airplanes were flying about us.”

The major strode over and pointed out holes in the wings and tail of Eddie’s airplane, only a few feet from where he had been seated. “Good grief,” exclaimed Eddie, turning pale. “I could have been killed!”

During the following weeks, the squadron received a supply of guns for the pilots to carry on their single-seated airplanes. Eddie took part in many air battles. On April 29 while he was engaged in combat, he downed his first enemy airplane. Now he really felt that he was making progress.

One of Eddie’s closest calls came about a month later. At four o’clock one morning, he and another pilot took off in separate airplanes to watch for German airplanes coming across the lines. Before long, he sighted three Albatros airplanes taking off from a German airfield. Silently he climbed to a height of about 20,000 feet, and then swooped down after them with his guns blasting away. He hit one of the airplanes, causing it to explode and fall to the ground in flames.

The other two Albatros airplanes now turned to attack him. Quickly he shifted his airplane out of a steep dive to climb upward again. This sudden change caused the wind to tear the linen cloth loose from his upper right wing, and his airplane went into a tailspin. Repeatedly he tried to right it, but it only fell faster and faster. Meanwhile the two German Albatros airplanes kept firing at him. “Oh God,” he prayed, “get me out of this.”

Desperately he jerked on the controls one last time and miraculously the airplane righted itself and started to wobble forward. Now he hoped only to keep it in the air long enough to get back to the American lines two miles away. He succeeded and was even able to land safely on his own airfield.

When Eddie stepped from the airplane, his knees wobbled but he felt proud and happy. The other pilots crowded around, eager to shake his hand and hear his story. All now realized that he was one of the best and bravest flyers in their group.

By now the airplanes which the 94th Squadron used had become badly worn. The government arranged to replace them with new airplanes, called Spads, from a French airplane company. After the pilots heard this news, they could hardly wait to get them.

On the Fourth of July Eddie went to Paris to join other Americans in celebrating our national birthday. While he was there, he visited an American supply depot at Orly, on the outskirts of Paris. As he looked around he spotted three new Spad airplanes ready for his squadron. He examined one which had the numeral “1” painted on its side. “Is this Spad ready to fly?” he asked with a broad grin.

“Yes, Rick,” replied the officer, using Eddie’s new nickname.

“Then why not let me fly it over to the base?” asked Eddie.

“All right,” agreed the officer.

Eddie happily flew the new Spad to his air base at Touquin and demonstrated it to the other pilots. In September the Allied forces launched a furious combined air and ground attack against the Germans at Saint Mihiel, France. All the air squadrons were ordered to fly around the clock, to shoot down airplanes and to attack supply trains. (Image 12.1)

Image 12.1: Quickly he swung down and shot a Fokker, causing it to fall.

One day when Eddie was making an observation flight, he spotted four crack German airplanes, called Fokkers, chasing several American airplanes. Quickly he swung down and shot a Fokker, causing it to fall. At once the other three Fokkers, all of which had red noses, turned to attack him. “Golly!” he cried. “They’re part of the famous ‘Flying Circus!’”

The Fokker planes zoomed, sideslipped, and corkscrewed through the clear sky. Eddie had to do some very skillful flying in order to keep away from them. “I’ve never seen such flying in my life,” he thought with a chill. “How can I escape them?”

Soon he saw a hole beneath him and went into a straight dive. Then he leveled off, opened up his throttle, and pulled away, leaving the three Fokkers behind him. “What a miraculous escape,” he thought.

The following day he had another fight with the Flying Circus and hit one Fokker. Now he had shot down a total of seven airplanes, and was give the title “American Ace of Aces.” Back home his mother was very proud of his receiving this honor. She had just written urging him to fly slowly and close to the ground.

Soon the Allies won a smashing victory at Saint Mihiel. For the first time in history, airplanes had played a prominent part in winning a major victory. American pilots had flown far behind the German lines and caused thousand of soldiers to surrender.

Eddie was now made Commanding Officer of the 94th Squadron. He gave his men strict orders about taking care of their engines and guns. “We have a big job to do,” he told them, “and we’ll work together as equals. There’ll be no saluting around here. I’ll fly along with the rest of you.”

Early the next morning Eddie took off alone on patrol duty over the battlefront at Verdun. Far away he spotted two German picture-taking airplanes headed for the Allied lines. Directly above them were five red-nosed Fokker airplanes serving as a guard. He waited high in the sky until the seven airplanes flew by below him. Then he dove down silently and shot down one of the five Fokker planes. The four others split off but made no attempt to fight back.

A few minutes later he swooped down to attack one of the two photographic planes. As he came near, one of them shot at him and the other circled to attack him in the rear. The three planes went round and round, with Eddie watching for a chance to strike. Suddenly he shifted his position and shot down one of the planes.

The four Fokkers now came swooping down toward him, but he streaked for home base as fast as he could go. “Well done, Rick!” shouted the other pilots, rushing out to greet him. “You’ve had two victories before breakfast.”

For taking part in this battle he later was granted the Congressional Medal of Honor, our nation’s highest award for military service. By the end of October he had won twenty-six victories in 134 air battles, more than any other American pilot. His 94th Squadron also ranked first, having shot down sixty-nine airplanes and balloons.

On November 10, 1918, while he was talking with his pilots about the next day’s mission, he received a telephone call. “Captain,” cried a voice, “we have just learned at headquarters that the war will end at eleven o’clock tomorrow morning. Call off future missions.”

Grinning broadly, Eddie dropped the phone and turned to inform his pilots. “The war will end at eleven o’clock tomorrow morning,” he announced. “All future missions are called off.”

Moments later the anti-aircraft batteries began to shoot shells into the air to celebrate the end of the fighting. The pilots from all the squadrons gathered and built a big bonfire. They talked happily and sang songs. (Image 12.2)

Image 12.2: Then the enemy soldiers tossed their helmets into the air and ran out on the quiet battlefield to embrace one another.

Shortly before eleven o’clock the following morning, Eddie made one last flight over the German lines. At five minutes to eleven the Germans fired at him. Then at eleven they stopped firing and threw their guns on the ground.

Promptly at eleven o’clock both the German and Allied bases shot shells and flares into the air to announce that the war was over. Then the enemy soldiers tossed their helmets into the air and ran out on the quiet battlefield to embrace one another. World War I was over, and Eddie Rickenbacker could go home.