E. M. Roberts - A Flying Fighter: An American Above the Lines in France

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Text originally published in 1911 under the same title.

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A

FLYING FIGHTER

An American above the Lines in France

BY

LIEUT. E. M. ROBERTS, R. F. C.

Formerly of the Tenth Canadian Battalion

ILLUSTRATED

Contents

To THE MEMORY OF CAPTAIN E. A. BURNEY Killed in action on the Somme July, 1916

For I dipt into the future, far as human eye could see,

Saw the Vision of the world, and all the wonder that would be;

Saw the heavens fill with commerce, argosies of magic sails,

Pilots of the purple twilight, dropping down with costly bales;

Heard the heavens fill with shouting, and there rained a ghastly dew

From the nations airy navies grappling in the central blue;

Far along the world-wide whisper of the south wind rushing warm,

With the standards of the peoples plunging thro the thunder-storm;

Till the war-drum throbbd no longer, and the battle flags were furled,

In the Parliament of man, the Federation of the world.

From Locksley Hall, by ALFRED TENNYSON.

LIEUT. E. M. ROBERTS, R.F.C.

AN ENGLISH RECRUITING POSTER

THIRTY-FIVE HUNDRED LOAVES OF BREAD FOR THE BOYS

AUTHOR AS DESPATCH RIDER

AT HOME

AWAITING ORDERS

GOOD PALS

A SLIGHT MISHAP

CITY OF ALBERT, FRANCE, TAKEN FROM SEVENTY-FIVE HUNDRED FEET WITH MACHINE ON VERTICAL BANK

SLIGHTLY NOSE-HEAVY

READY FOR ACTION

THE PILOT

HELMET WORN BY AUTHOR WHEN WOUNDED IN THE BATTLE OF THE SOMME, JULY 2, 1916

INSIDE OUT, SHOWING WHERE PIECES WENT IN, AND BLOOD

FROM LEFT TO RIGHT: BULLET LODGED IN GASOLINE TANK AT THIRTY-SIR HUNDRED FEET.SHRAPNEL BALL WHICH WENT THROUGH CARBURETER AT TWENTY THOUSAND FEET.TAPPET ROD WHICH BURST AT SEVEN THOUSAND FEET.BULLET WHICH STRUCK AUTHOR IN SIDE

SHOT DOWN FROM TEN THOUSAND FEET

A BAD LANDING IN A HEAVY GALE

LEAVING FOR THE LINES

12A BOMBING AND FIGHTING PLANE

A SQUADRON OF SINGLE-SEATED FIGHTERS

ALTHOUGH Lieutenant Robertss modest preface makes little reference to the exploits which he has lived through, the readers of the extraordinary story which follows may care to know a few personal facts at the outset. It was in 1914 that this adventurous young American enlisted, and it was early in 1915 that he reached the Western Front. It was not until November, 1917, that he returned to this country. In that time he won his commission and more than won the air-fighters title of Ace, for in his battles he has brought down not merely five but seven Huns. His victories did not leave him unscathed. He was wounded four times in midair, once at the Battle of the Somme. And certainly after such service there is a story to tell which, as it seems to those who have known it, has not been equaled in its own field for intensely human interest and dramatic quality.

THIS is the story of three years of active service on the Western Front, most of the time in the Flying Corps. I hope that the story will interest readers. If not, it certainly will not be the fault of my experiences in themselves.

The leaders of the Allied forces in Europe have realized long since that air service is one of the premier branches of the military establishment. The aerial observer has come to be the eyes of the army. It is he who often brings the first news that the enemy is getting ready for an offensive. Upon him the commanders rely for information as to all movements behind the enemy lines. The aerial observer directs the fire of his artillery, and, finally, when the men go over the top, he is often the sole means of communication between headquarters and the firing line.

It is needless to say that the enemy is not in ignorance of the great service rendered by the airman. To cripple that service as much as possible he sends up his own aviators, especially when his anti-aircraft batteries have failed him. It is then that the man aloft is called upon to defend himself as well as those on the ground, to whom he is giving the best that is in . him. Then comes the aerial duel. And in most cases one of the combatants crashes to the groundit has been his last flight.

These are the things which I have set down here.

But I have not overlooked the humorous side of the airmans life. After nerve-racking hours in the air the necessity for relaxation is great, and then he generally applies himself to that with the same vigor that marks his conduct while on duty. Ours is a short life, so why not make the most of it while it lasts! That is the axiom of all birdmen.

But while there are plenty of thrills in this fighting in the air, I have not written solely for the purpose of entertainment. My three years at the Front have made me realize more than ever that the Great War is not yet won. It has been said a thousand times that this is not simply a War between armies. Since my. return from the battleground I have asked myself the question: To what extent does the American public realize that the World War is a titanic struggle between all the economic resources and forces of the nations involved rather than simply a war between the fighting armies?

I have come to the conclusion that Americans generally do not recognize this in spite of the introduction of meatless and wheatless days and coal saving. The reason seems to be that we are too far away. We are handicapped by distance. So far the United States has only begun to feel the War, as its effects. are measured in European countries. Let us hope that realization of the Wars meaning and responsibilities will become general before it is forced home by hundreds of thousands of casualties. Efficient preparation will prevent losses in the end.

E. M. R. New York, February, 1918.

AN American, born in the city of Duluth, Minnesota, I had inherited a love of adventure which asserted itself strongly while I was young. When a lad ten years old, I ran away from home and started out to see the Great Northwest and make my own way in the world. And since that time the greater part of my schooling has been in the University of Hard Knocks. A great many of my companions were men made famous by Jack London in his works; indeed, Jack himself was a good friend of mine, having done me many a good turn; in fact, he once saved my life.