Yours in a horse-shoe halo.
Son.
My Dear Mrs. Hamilton:
It was a pleasure to hear from you, for if ever letters were welcome it is here. People are so kind in writing that I really cannot pretendto answer as I should, but as you were so near my family, I hope you will forgive me if I let you learn the personal side of my experiences from them. Your letter came yesterday. The box has not yet arrived, but thank you for it in advance.
The great German offensive began last night and we wait the results of the distant thunder. Our sector is quiet. If this is not the final scene of the war, I cannot look far enough ahead to see it.
Aside from the war, I like my work. Wonderful architecture abounds. New peoples fascinate. If not a pleasure, it is a privilege to serve in this war.
As ever,
Dinsmore Ely.
Dear Family:
So long since I wrote, can’t remember where I left off. Last ten days spent as follows:
Mar. 25.Over German lines.
Mar. 26.Ascension in United States balloon.
Mar. 27.Orders to leave Toul with entire escadrille.
Mar. 28.Packed and left Toul, arriving in Paris.
Mar. 29.In Paris preparing to go to Front.
Mar. 30.Reported to aviation center near Paris where escadrille was to receive new equipment of planes.
Mar. 31—April 1 and 2.Reported each day to headquarters and returned to Paris in evening.
April 3.Orders to the Front in new planes.
Reported to headquarters to find I was released from French Army and must go to United States headquarters. Left for Paris and there received orders to go to American Army center in France.
April 4.Arrived at A. A. C., was sworn in as second lieutenant.
April 5.Returned to Paris, ordered clothes, and now await orders to action.
With love.
Your son,
Lieutenant Dinsmore Ely.
Dear Family:
You have probably heard more from me in the last ten days than you will in the next ten.Please pardon me for not having written. Things have moved fast, and all the world strains at attention.
What do we know of the great German offensive? The Boche has made great gains with suicide tolls as a price. The English have made splendid resistance with a retreat which will need explaining. And the turn of the battle came when the French Army arrived. It is hoped that the American Army can be of assistance in the world’s greatest battle, of which the first phase has lasted twelve days already. German communics say this offensive may last for months, but it is the final of the war. The statement was made when they thought the allied line was broken. When the German people discover that the great offensive failed to gain its end, they may interpret it as defeat. If the German people cannot be made to believe that the ground gained in this offensive is of more value than a place to bury their dead, the German Government is whipped.
I went up in a balloon. Lieutenant Grant from Ohio, with whom I formed a friendship, took me up one morning from five to six-thirty. The great balloon made a curved outline against the sky above the tree tops. As we approachedin the morning dusk, the darkness and the night chill still struggling to keep off the coming day, many figures hustled to muffled commands. Then, at the order, the balloon moved out into the open and upward until the men clinging to the wet side ropes formed a circle about the basket on the ground. We were put into belts and fastened to our parachutes before getting into the car. Then at the command to give way, the car left the ground and mounted upwards. Soon we were at two thousand feet, and the woods and machines and human forms were lost in the ground haze which clung in the hollows.
With all the flying in the sky which I have done, this was the first time I had hung in the air. I had never realized the air was so empty and so still. The stillness of the mountains is broken by its echo. There are splashes in the stillness of the sea, but the air doesn’t even breathe. Only the desert could be so silent. My companion spoke into his telephone in low tones, to test the wires. He showed me the map, and then pointed out the direction of the enemy lines. Suddenly there was a flicker of fire in the western horizon, like fire flies in the grass. Some time after, there came the distant booms. Oppositionfiring started, and for a time the duel lasted. But as the sun began to rise, and the mist clear, the firing became intermittent, and finally ceased, and the appalling silence seemed to bear us skyward with its pressure. I shivered. I wonder if the soul shivers as it leaves the earth in search of peace. I think I should prefer to have my soul stay down in the warm earth with my body and the kindly reaching roots of flowers and all the ants and friendly worms than to float up in that everlasting silence. It seemed high, too—much higher than I had ever been in an aeroplane, though it was only seven hundred meters. It was a wonderful experience—but give me the aeroplane, or the submarine, and leave the balloonist to listen for the heartbeat of the Sphinx.
We had just gotten our room nicely decorated with curtains, rug, table cover, hanging lamps, and pictures when we were ordered to move; but everyone was glad of the prospect to get into the fight. We had gone on a patrol nearly to Metz that day and had tried but failed to catch two enemy planes which were located by anti-aircraft shells. That evening we ate our last meal in Toul, and the next morning were in Paris after an all-night ride.
Paris is neither excited nor exciting. Refugees were coming in and going through. Many had left the city while it was being bombarded. All my friends had gone to various country places, and I could see the streets were not so crowded.
I have been here for five days now. We came to a distributing station just outside of Paris to get new machines and then go into the Amiens sector. It took a few days for the machines to be prepared. I was to have a new Spad. On the day we expected to depart, I reported to the captain and he informed me that I was dismissed from the French Army and had a second lieutenancy in the American Army. What could have been more inopportune, just as I was going to the real Front? Well, I said good-bye to the escadrille and hurried to Paris and from there to a distant American Army center, and then back to Paris for more orders, and by that time I was officially an officer. Meanwhile, my suit was being made, and two days later, I was all dressed up in new clothes. With the assistance of a letter from one captain, I had obtained a promise from the lieutenant, the captain, major, colonel, and general of the Paris office of the Aviation Section to have me returned tothe French escadrille as a detached American officer. As it was necessary to receive written orders from another distant headquarters, I have been waiting for them here in Paris. I went out yesterday to see the escadrille leave; they had been detained by bad weather.
I expect to return to the French escadrille in two or three days. After that, I shall be an American officer and probably not be able to obtain furtherpermissionsto Paris. At present, my one desire is to reach the defensive Front. Right now, it is hard for the French mind to grasp how much the Americans have wanted to help in this defensive during their first year of preparation. No matter how great a thing the American organization is to be, if we suppose there are 300,000 Americans actually fighting in this offensive (no one knows numbers) we must keep things in scale by remembering that Germany alone has probably had more than a million and a half put out of action in this battle alone.
And I want to say in closing, if anything should happen to me, let’s have no mourning in spirit or in dress. Like a Liberty Bond, it is an investment, not a loss, when a man dies for hiscountry. It is an honor to a family, and is that the time for weeping? I would rather leave my family rich in pleasant memories of my life than numbed in sorrow at my death.
Your son,
Dinsmore.
Dinsmore ElyDinsmore Ely’s grave in Des Gonard’s Cemetery, at Versailles, France
Dinsmore Ely’s grave in Des Gonard’s Cemetery, at Versailles, France
Dinsmore Ely’s grave in Des Gonard’s Cemetery, at Versailles, France