to our luggage and tents. The camp is practically a small village. Besides the French officers house, where we Americans also eat, there are a lot of small houses for the men and their wives and mistresses. Also a few barracks and a lot more under construction. Several store houses, two large and excellent shops, three hangars. There were about 40 or 50 U.S. [Americans] there.95 The U.S. live in tents off to one side between the French and the German prison camp, to act as a buffer between maybe, though we soon found the Huns were like unto lambs.
Immediately upon arriving we went out to the sand spit in a boat from which all the flying is done. It is about ¾ of a mile from the hangars or a mile around. The hangars are on a narrow inlet. There is a swamp around the lake on several sides, the soil is very sandy, in fact the whole place for miles inland, I forgot to say that the ocean is only three miles off, used to be nothing but sand dunes till this government planted pines all over. So now when it rains as it had done for the last two weeks the water runs right off. After hanging around till about 5:00 we all walked back. We had supper with the French officers at 7:00 and then sat around a fire between the tents and listened to heartrending by Chip, Al, John, and Hen. We hit the hay pretty early.
Wednesday, October 17, 1917. About 6:00 we woke up and believe me I never was so cold. After dressing in about two seconds and swallowing a couple of cups of the best and hottest coffee that was ever boiled and a hunk of war bread, we hurried out to the boat to go to the hangar. We sat around till 8:20 when we went to the mess hall—or officers’ house and had some awfully good hot chocolate and more bread. Then we went out to the point again and sat around some more. Pretty soon there was a big smash and we looked up to see the remains of a plane that hit on the edge of the marsh. Then there was the darndest noise imaginable as all the Frenchies talked at once and everyone ran to the launches to go to the scene of the disaster. A Frenchy had tried like a fool to turn near the ground and banked so much that also slipping a bit he caught one pontoon on a bush and smashed up. He was not hurt at all.
After the excitement was over we sat around till about 11:00 when flying was stopped. We sat around our tents till 12:30 when we had a fine lunch. At about 3:00 out to the point again. During the afternoon two of these simple Frenchies at different times came crashing into machines beached there. Nothing much was broken thankfully. About 5:30 flying was called off for the afternoon and the first day had passed without a flight on our part. However Al and John both soloed—each having had about four flights in the three weeks they had been waiting. Supper at 7:00, a little bull and then sleep.
Thursday, October 18, 1917. It was pretty warm when we got up at 6:00 and hurried out to the sand spit. Sat around till 8:30 and then came in for chocolate and toast. Just when we arrived at the beach again some French fool starting out circled to clear a sand bar extending from the point and losing his head crashed a wing into the hull of Douno’s boat. Douno was to be our instructor, so we were laid off. We had the customary wonderful lunch and went out to the beach. When Douno told Chip and me that we’d get no flying till next day we returned and took a bath. As our luxurious suite had no tub we stood in a tent [and] used a couple of towels and pails of hot and cold water. It was great. However, we both missed flights as Douno got another boat. That afternoon John and Al both stuck on the sand bar and were promptly razzed. After supper I wrote till about 10.
Friday, October 19, 1917. Arising a bit late, Scab and I just swallowed a cup of coffee, grabbed some bread, and made the boat. After sitting around till 8:30 I started for chocolate, but saw Douno coming out with his machine so waited. I finally got out and had a rotten ride. The machine handled very stiffly and did not respond well to the controls and the engine had only just enough power to get us off the water. These F.B.A. boats are somewhat similar to an F boat but have 130 H.P. motor instead of 100. They climb pretty fast, and with a good motor get off easily. But one can’t use the rudder to speak of, especially on a left turn, one merely banks and slips around. My God, what a machine! I wondered why the crashes were so few. Soon after my ride of about five minutes Douno got a better machine and gave me a good ride. We made a lot of landings, it was hard for me to land this far enough back on the tail. They can be landed on the step, but should be landed very far back.
In the afternoon as we were going out a call was received for the bomb carriers so Douno and another took two of them out. They are called DDs [Donnet-Denhauts] and are a very nice looking machine, larger than the F.B.A., with 200 H.P. motor. The first fellow up solo came down to land near us, got scared and just as he was about to land on the step, pulled back the stick, went straight up, slipped back and to the right, caught one wing, and fell into the water just turned around. Somehow it didn’t sink. He was not hurt, nor was the machine in any way injured. One of the monitors, without any inspection, immediately took it up and tested it, then he turned it over to Hen who was our first to solo. After him Scab and later Chip. I did not have a turn till late and then the beach captain said it was too glossy.96 Chip got stuck on the bar and has to set up drinks for all. Al finished up his two hours and will leave for Saint Raphael as soon as possible.97 The enlisted men move into barracks here today, but we are in the cold. It is fine weather, new moon tonight. Only one D.D. returned, the other was left out in the ocean. The one saw a boat within three miles of the boat on water but didn’t trouble to stop and ask for help. They merely telegraphed to Verdun to send out a boat.98 Nice fellows. No telling where the two poor devils will drift to.
Saturday, October 20, 1917. The water was very smooth and glassy so I didn’t solo till about 9:00 and thus missed chocolate again. It is a long wait for one cup of coffee and a small slice of bread at 6:00 then nothing till 12:30. However, I got up finally and took a couple of turns. About 30 minutes after I came in Chip came in and they sent out a sailor with his boat. Just after the motor started and fortunately before he left the water the strap on top to lift the boat came loose, caught in the propeller, and ripped the upper wing from the front straight apart. Also made a tremendous hole in the lower wing and the engine fell down and forward, just back of the pilot’s head. If it had happened in the air, “C’est la guerre.” Just then I got another flight, three turns, and felt right at home. No flying Saturday afternoon, so Chip, Hen, and I walked to Hourtin. Scab felt badly the night before and though he flew was still low. We had tea at Hourtin and got some chocolate. As we were leaving Al and John came through on their way to Moutchic as they were finished. Also a lot of sailors. Then we walked back and had dinner; it’s about 4-1/2 miles.
Sunday, October 21, 1917. Although it is the day of rest we rise at 6:15 and the bad news—no coffee and bread. After sitting around for a while suffering from cold and famine, I slipped to camp and procured a large hunk of war bread and some chocolate and brought it out. It was welcome. Then about 9:30 I got up to take four turns. I was feeling pretty good so I did three spirals and made large [toures de pistes? (triangular cross-country flights)]. When I came in, the beach captain said I was finished. At first he intended to beach me four days, but then decided that I could just go to St. Raphael. No more flying here. As my feet were sore from walking to Hourtin, stayed in camp, read, and played bridge in the afternoon. Also had a slick bath. Scab, Hen, and Doc [Stevens] walked to the ocean and took a swim.99 When they got back, about six o’clock, Hen, Chip, Scab, and I went to the canteen, a sort of recreation room, and treated all the visitors to champagne. There were about nine of them, and they are a fine bunch of men, all petty officers. They have most of the officers here [shamed?] a mile.
Monday, October 22, 1917. Big day, as I slept ’til 8:15, being finished here. After the chocolate and toast, Chip and I went out to the beach saw Scab and the finish. Cabot telephoned to Moutchic that we were done.100 About 10 the boat brought out Reg and Sam, who had taken Al and John’s place. Fred still at Moutchic. Due to the party last night; they got a ride and said it was easy. All four of us thought it was darned hard the first ride. They were sore at Bob for the way they had been treated and advised us not to stay at Moutchic when we left here. After lunch Cabot and I played Fearing and Chip bridge.101 Dr. Stevens, Scab and Hen went for a walk. Later Chip and I rode to Hourtin on Sam and Reg’s bicycle and had chocolate and bought some postcards. Supper lasted two and a half hours. Those Frenchmen sit and talk ’til one goes wild.
Tuesday, October 23, 1917.
