IIHIS OWN STORY

Some of Norman’s experiences in the French aviation service were of an exceptionally thrilling character, showing the peculiar perils of aerial warfare. At the time of his last home visit on a short furlough, he was invited to relate some of these at the Tavern Club in Boston. His story, as modestly and frankly told by him on that occasion, is best given in his own words:

“I sailed for Europe in the latter part of the year 1914 in order to do what I could to help the cause which I believed, and still believe, to be that of my own country, as well as that of the Allied Nations.“Reaching France I offered my services to that Government as an aviator. They were promptly accepted and I contracted an engagement to serve France until she had achieved victory. Seven other Americans enlisted withme at the same time as aviators, and we proceeded from our dépôt, where we were clothed, to the flying school at Pau in the south of France in the Pyrenees, where conditions for flying are exceptionally good, there being hardly any wind in that region. The school at Pau at the time was the largest flying school in the world. While we were there about three hundred young men were in training, and at last accounts, there were over five hundred pupils practicing in aviation, using at least two hundred modern machines. We remained there a month. As a rule it takes about forty-eight days to turn out a military aviator, qualified and fitted to obtain the civil and military licenses required. In order to obtain the latter it is necessary to make a successful flight of about four hundred miles across country. I had already acquired a fair knowledge of the science of aviation at home and had made numerous flights in different machines, so that the training at Pau came comparatively easy to me, but it was necessary for me to become thoroughly acquainted with all the rules governing the French military aviation service, as well as to make myself familiar with the French machines in order to meet the full requirements of the training.When we were through this school we received ourbrevets militairesand we had ridden every kind of air craft used in the French Army.“All licensed aviators, as turned out, are sent to the reserve station for aviators near Paris. In our case, after spending a week or two there, we were found fit for more active service, and we were suddenly sent to the front in the north of France, arriving there in time for the May attacks near Arras and Artois. Our perilous experiences in aerial warfare were soon to begin. After one reconnoitering tour we were sent out to bombard munition dépôts, railway centers, and aviation fields in the rear of the enemy’s lines, from ten to forty kilometres distant from our base. I have a vivid remembrance of my first bombarding expedition. The action took place at a point not far within the enemy’s lines. I was sent with two or three members of my squadron to bombard a station where ammunition was being unloaded. It takes about forty minutes for a machine heavily loaded with bombs to get to a sufficient height to cross the lines. The minimum height at which we crossed was about seven thousand feet. I saw my comradescross ahead of me and noted they were being heavily shelled by the enemy. Accordingly, I decided to go a little higher before crossing. When I found I had only sufficient gasoline left to make my bombardment and return to my base, I started over. I was soon to experience what I may call my baptism of fire. The impression made upon me by the terrible racket and the spectacle of shells aimed at me and exploding near by made me shiver for a moment. Though I was confident and unafraid, my limbs began to tremble. Still I kept straight on my course. I would not have changed it for the world. My legs were so wobbly from nervous excitement that I tried to hide them from my observer, who was an old hand at the game. I confess to a feeling of relief when I reached the point where our bombs were to be thrown over. Having discharged this duty I was glad to return to my starting-point with the motor running at slow speed, and knowing that I was soon to be out of range of the enemy’s deadly fire.“In this bombardment my machine was made almost entirely of steel tubing with a 140-horse-power engine, capable of carrying a load of bombs weighing from four to seven hundredpounds. As an arm of defense it carried a machine gun. This is the type of machine that has made most of the long raids on the enemy. I soon became accustomed to the duty I had to perform and to flying with the spectacle of shells bursting all around me, at the same time keeping on the lookout for the ’planes of the enemy. We made seventeen bombardments during the ensuing month of June and we got to be old hands at this kind of warfare. It is never quite agreeable to be shelled up in the air or elsewhere, and those who make the boast of liking it do not tell the exact truth.“To illustrate how well the French military aviation service is organized and supplied with machines, let me tell you of my experience at the front in Lorraine, where one day I had the misfortune to break one of the wings of my machine. Instead of stopping to have it repaired, all I had to do was to turn it into a supply station near by where it was at once dismantled and sent to the rear. I was then promptly supplied with a new machine. A change of aeroplanes by an aviator in action in France is like a cavalryman changing his horse. If there is anything the matter with the animal, even if it is only a corn, a new one is at once forthcoming.There is no suggestion of parsimony or niggardliness in giving out the supplies necessary for efficient fighting.“On another occasion, when we were making a raid on the railway station at Douai, which was about twenty-five kilometres within the enemy’s lines, we started with a squadron of some twenty machines. There happened to be that day a great many German machines out. Somehow or other they knew we were coming. We had four or five brisk engagements with them. Our planes had only machine guns with which to defend themselves, while the Germans used regular fighting machines. This aerial engagement resulted in four of our machines coming back riddled with bullets, my lieutenant being hit in the leg.“I was fortunate enough that day to escape the range of the German flying machines by going farther north and passing through the clouds, though I was shelled from a long distance all the way. I succeeded in dropping my bombs on a railroad station, one of which I saw explode in a bunch of freight cars in the railroad yard. As I was returning within our lines the Englishmen, by mistake, opened a brisk fire on me which necessitated my going up intothe clouds again. I proceeded due west until I ran out of gasoline and I then descended in the dark near the headquarters of the English. It was my good fortune to land safely and on my arrival at my post I was brought before the English commander, who asked me to tell my story. Mine being one of the four machines out of twenty that had reached Douai in the raid, I was awarded a citation and given the right to wear a War Cross—my first decoration.“My squadron spent a month in the east and during this time I went farther into the enemy’s territory than I had been before. I think the longest distance was when we made the raid on two localities over one hundred kilometres within the enemy’s lines in Bocherie, as we called it. During this month General Joffre came to review our four squadrons of bombarding machines. With him came the President of France and the King of the Belgians. These distinguished visitors witnessed the departure of a squadron of some ninety of our machines on a bombarding raid loaded with bombs and flying four abreast. They were highly complimentary in their salutations to us Americans.“During this month in Lorraine I experienced the hardest knock I had received up tothat time. One day six German machines, fully equipped, bombarded Nancy and our aviation field. To retaliate, my squadron was sent out to bombard their field on the same afternoon. We started with thirty machines to a designated rendezvous and fifty minutes later, after getting grouped, we proceeded to our ultimate destination. I had a very fast machine, and reached the German flying field without being hit. When about to let go my bombs and while my observer was aiming at the hangars of the Germans my machine was attacked by them—one on the left and two on the right. I shouted to my observer to drop his bombs, which he did, and we immediately straightened out for home. While I was on the bank the Germans opened fire on me with their machine guns which were even more perilous than their shells. My motor stopped a few moments afterwards. It had given out and to make matters worse a fourth German machine came directly at us in front. My observer, who was an excellent shot, let go at him with the result that when last seen this German aeroplane was about four hundred feet below and quite beyond control. The other Germans behind kept bothering us. If they had possessed ordinary courage, they might havegot us. Flying without any motive power compelled me to stand my machine on end to keep ahead of them. As we were nearing the French lines these Germans left us, but immediately batteries from another direction opened fire on us. As I was barely moving I made an excellent target. One shell burst near enough to put shrapnel in my machine. It is marvelous how hard we can be hit by shrapnel and have no vital part of our equipment injured. I knew I was now over the French lines, which I must have crossed at a height of about four hundred metres. I finally landed in a field covered with white crosses marking the graves of the French and German soldiers who had fallen the previous September at this point. This was the battle the Kaiser himself came to witness, expecting to spend that night in Nancy.“Thousands fell that day, but the Kaiser did not make his triumphal entry. Looking back on this latter experience of mine I think myself most fortunate in having been able to return to the French lines without a scratch. I got home safely because the German aviators lacked either courage or skill or both. They had me with my engine dead, four against one, and twenty kilometres within their lines.”

“Reaching France I offered my services to that Government as an aviator. They were promptly accepted and I contracted an engagement to serve France until she had achieved victory. Seven other Americans enlisted withme at the same time as aviators, and we proceeded from our dépôt, where we were clothed, to the flying school at Pau in the south of France in the Pyrenees, where conditions for flying are exceptionally good, there being hardly any wind in that region. The school at Pau at the time was the largest flying school in the world. While we were there about three hundred young men were in training, and at last accounts, there were over five hundred pupils practicing in aviation, using at least two hundred modern machines. We remained there a month. As a rule it takes about forty-eight days to turn out a military aviator, qualified and fitted to obtain the civil and military licenses required. In order to obtain the latter it is necessary to make a successful flight of about four hundred miles across country. I had already acquired a fair knowledge of the science of aviation at home and had made numerous flights in different machines, so that the training at Pau came comparatively easy to me, but it was necessary for me to become thoroughly acquainted with all the rules governing the French military aviation service, as well as to make myself familiar with the French machines in order to meet the full requirements of the training.When we were through this school we received ourbrevets militairesand we had ridden every kind of air craft used in the French Army.

“All licensed aviators, as turned out, are sent to the reserve station for aviators near Paris. In our case, after spending a week or two there, we were found fit for more active service, and we were suddenly sent to the front in the north of France, arriving there in time for the May attacks near Arras and Artois. Our perilous experiences in aerial warfare were soon to begin. After one reconnoitering tour we were sent out to bombard munition dépôts, railway centers, and aviation fields in the rear of the enemy’s lines, from ten to forty kilometres distant from our base. I have a vivid remembrance of my first bombarding expedition. The action took place at a point not far within the enemy’s lines. I was sent with two or three members of my squadron to bombard a station where ammunition was being unloaded. It takes about forty minutes for a machine heavily loaded with bombs to get to a sufficient height to cross the lines. The minimum height at which we crossed was about seven thousand feet. I saw my comradescross ahead of me and noted they were being heavily shelled by the enemy. Accordingly, I decided to go a little higher before crossing. When I found I had only sufficient gasoline left to make my bombardment and return to my base, I started over. I was soon to experience what I may call my baptism of fire. The impression made upon me by the terrible racket and the spectacle of shells aimed at me and exploding near by made me shiver for a moment. Though I was confident and unafraid, my limbs began to tremble. Still I kept straight on my course. I would not have changed it for the world. My legs were so wobbly from nervous excitement that I tried to hide them from my observer, who was an old hand at the game. I confess to a feeling of relief when I reached the point where our bombs were to be thrown over. Having discharged this duty I was glad to return to my starting-point with the motor running at slow speed, and knowing that I was soon to be out of range of the enemy’s deadly fire.

“In this bombardment my machine was made almost entirely of steel tubing with a 140-horse-power engine, capable of carrying a load of bombs weighing from four to seven hundredpounds. As an arm of defense it carried a machine gun. This is the type of machine that has made most of the long raids on the enemy. I soon became accustomed to the duty I had to perform and to flying with the spectacle of shells bursting all around me, at the same time keeping on the lookout for the ’planes of the enemy. We made seventeen bombardments during the ensuing month of June and we got to be old hands at this kind of warfare. It is never quite agreeable to be shelled up in the air or elsewhere, and those who make the boast of liking it do not tell the exact truth.

“To illustrate how well the French military aviation service is organized and supplied with machines, let me tell you of my experience at the front in Lorraine, where one day I had the misfortune to break one of the wings of my machine. Instead of stopping to have it repaired, all I had to do was to turn it into a supply station near by where it was at once dismantled and sent to the rear. I was then promptly supplied with a new machine. A change of aeroplanes by an aviator in action in France is like a cavalryman changing his horse. If there is anything the matter with the animal, even if it is only a corn, a new one is at once forthcoming.There is no suggestion of parsimony or niggardliness in giving out the supplies necessary for efficient fighting.

“On another occasion, when we were making a raid on the railway station at Douai, which was about twenty-five kilometres within the enemy’s lines, we started with a squadron of some twenty machines. There happened to be that day a great many German machines out. Somehow or other they knew we were coming. We had four or five brisk engagements with them. Our planes had only machine guns with which to defend themselves, while the Germans used regular fighting machines. This aerial engagement resulted in four of our machines coming back riddled with bullets, my lieutenant being hit in the leg.

“I was fortunate enough that day to escape the range of the German flying machines by going farther north and passing through the clouds, though I was shelled from a long distance all the way. I succeeded in dropping my bombs on a railroad station, one of which I saw explode in a bunch of freight cars in the railroad yard. As I was returning within our lines the Englishmen, by mistake, opened a brisk fire on me which necessitated my going up intothe clouds again. I proceeded due west until I ran out of gasoline and I then descended in the dark near the headquarters of the English. It was my good fortune to land safely and on my arrival at my post I was brought before the English commander, who asked me to tell my story. Mine being one of the four machines out of twenty that had reached Douai in the raid, I was awarded a citation and given the right to wear a War Cross—my first decoration.

“My squadron spent a month in the east and during this time I went farther into the enemy’s territory than I had been before. I think the longest distance was when we made the raid on two localities over one hundred kilometres within the enemy’s lines in Bocherie, as we called it. During this month General Joffre came to review our four squadrons of bombarding machines. With him came the President of France and the King of the Belgians. These distinguished visitors witnessed the departure of a squadron of some ninety of our machines on a bombarding raid loaded with bombs and flying four abreast. They were highly complimentary in their salutations to us Americans.

“During this month in Lorraine I experienced the hardest knock I had received up tothat time. One day six German machines, fully equipped, bombarded Nancy and our aviation field. To retaliate, my squadron was sent out to bombard their field on the same afternoon. We started with thirty machines to a designated rendezvous and fifty minutes later, after getting grouped, we proceeded to our ultimate destination. I had a very fast machine, and reached the German flying field without being hit. When about to let go my bombs and while my observer was aiming at the hangars of the Germans my machine was attacked by them—one on the left and two on the right. I shouted to my observer to drop his bombs, which he did, and we immediately straightened out for home. While I was on the bank the Germans opened fire on me with their machine guns which were even more perilous than their shells. My motor stopped a few moments afterwards. It had given out and to make matters worse a fourth German machine came directly at us in front. My observer, who was an excellent shot, let go at him with the result that when last seen this German aeroplane was about four hundred feet below and quite beyond control. The other Germans behind kept bothering us. If they had possessed ordinary courage, they might havegot us. Flying without any motive power compelled me to stand my machine on end to keep ahead of them. As we were nearing the French lines these Germans left us, but immediately batteries from another direction opened fire on us. As I was barely moving I made an excellent target. One shell burst near enough to put shrapnel in my machine. It is marvelous how hard we can be hit by shrapnel and have no vital part of our equipment injured. I knew I was now over the French lines, which I must have crossed at a height of about four hundred metres. I finally landed in a field covered with white crosses marking the graves of the French and German soldiers who had fallen the previous September at this point. This was the battle the Kaiser himself came to witness, expecting to spend that night in Nancy.

“Thousands fell that day, but the Kaiser did not make his triumphal entry. Looking back on this latter experience of mine I think myself most fortunate in having been able to return to the French lines without a scratch. I got home safely because the German aviators lacked either courage or skill or both. They had me with my engine dead, four against one, and twenty kilometres within their lines.”

Portrait as exhibited at Allied Fairs

Alluding to the occasion of the telling of this story, William Roscoe Thayer, who presided at the dinner, said when the tidings of Norman’s death came from France: “I shall never forget that Christmas night at the Tavern Club when Norman sat next to me and told me many details of his service and then arose and gave that wonderfully simple, impressive story. To have had such a service and to die fighting for the cause which means the defense of civilization—what nobler career could he have had? I can think of no one who more thoroughly enjoyed the life of continuous peril which he led. The honors which it brought him showed that France recognized as heroism that which he took as a matter of course.”

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