Dear Aubrey,
It sure is a lovely fall day. I’ve come from flying atop the trees as close as I can without touching them. Pilots are permitted to fly for jollities when not working. I went to London for a brief respite, where Henrietta met me during her leave, too. We met some of the 66th Battery. They’ve just landed in England and will be sent to France next summer. My squadron has been singing “Call of the Motherland,” “Fall in Canada!” and “Hats off to the Flag and the King.” But the 66th have original songs.
“The best artillery battery
That came to France this year
Was the 66th from Montreal
With fourteen kegs of beer
They marched right up to Windsor Station
And got aboard the train
They said good-bye to ten thousand Janes
When the train pulled out
They were heard to shout
Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah…”
I’m leaning against my Sopwith Pup in the hanger. She’s a single-seater biplane. Her maximum speed is one hundred and eleven miles per hour, though with a pleasing wind, it can go quicker. It takes only fourteen minutes to reach three thousand meters, which is as high as we can fly out here.
When I return, I ought to give you my white scarf. But its use is functional. The jackets worn are of rough leather. Necks are rubbed crudely because one turns constantly looking for Old Fritz. The iconic scarf prevents friction from occurring. Goggles are worn since the cockpits are open, and it is quite chilly way up in the clouds.
A Halberstadt, not sure what model, flew over the aerodrome just now. As is customary, shots are not taken at airplanes that fly quite low over aerodromes; however, this one did not. Enemy pilots drop messages stating Allied hospitals will soon be bombed or if one of ours has been taken prisoner. If one of our noteworthy boys goes down, a Heinie will drop a wreath of condolence or a message stating so over our airfield. As well, if a pilot goes down, traditionally, the other side flies beside the chap and adopts a somber expression as a salute of sorts. However, the one that flew past just now did not drop a thing. My mates’ anti-aircraft guns have gone after it.
The first day of instruction, you are taught the right way to swing a propeller. In flight school, officers instruct that if an aim can be hit, to “give it a go.” After ten hours or so of on-ground instruction, I was given my first plane to pilot. I cannot put into words how careful one has to be in piloting. More boys fall during one of their first take-offs than from enemy action. The average life expectancy for a British pilot is about a fortnight. One mainly becomes knowledgeable about flying by trial and error. The first year of the effort, pilots gave dirty looks and shook their fists at the enemy. They also brought darts and pistols from their residences. Then the army gave hand bombs to drop as they flew by the enemy. But in spring 1915, a Frenchman put a machine gun on his aircraft. He was captured by the Germans, who made the Frenchman show them how he did so. The Germans copied the idea. Now, machine guns on aeroplanes are quite common on both sides. We mainly use the Lewis gun.
In the beginning, we were the “Eyes of the army” or “Cavalry of the clouds.” The Royal Flying Corps’ main role was to keep enemy reconnaissance planes at bay so they could not obtain information about English readiness on the ground. At Aubers Ridge, wireless radios were given to the two-seater planes for artillery observation. The devices can send but cannot accept messages. This method of communication has made a huge impact on how business is done. Because confidentiality on the ground is not relevant anymore, their main job is to help the artillery see enemy guns and soldiers. Flying my Pup, my job is to protect the planes observing the artillery. In doing so, more Allies are safeguarded now. However, I just received a promotion and will be flying a different plane shortly.
I’m certainly glad chutes are not required, at least they haven’t been up ‘til now. At any rate, you can’t be entirely certain that a sheet of silk can prevent you from dying. British pilots are not allowed to wear chutes, as what we fly are very costly pieces of machinery and are made of the finest wood, wire, and canvas. Generals are of the opinion that not carrying chutes will force a lad to save his plane or at least work harder to save it. If enemy guns jam mid-fight, the other pilot often times will disengage and salute, then fly off to do battle another day. And, Aubrey, we have the most splendid air duels. I will tell you all about them when I see you next.
Sincerely yours,
Flight Commander in the Royal Naval Air Force,
Hughie H.