In a few moments one of the enlisted men came up to me and saluted me smartly, and mumbled a lot of stuff about “voulez vous” something, “voulez vous” being all I could understand, so I beckoned one of the Lieutenants who spoke a little English and he asked me if I wanted a “Raelt Saeul” or “ordinary open sight.” I had never had a course in aerial gunnery and I did not know the difference; in fact, my experience in machine guns consisted of two lectures by a guy who didn’t know much about it, at Fort Sill, the dismantling of one gun and about an hour and six minutes in an open firing butt at Amanty, France. I was afraid “Raelt Saeul” would be something technical, in which case I would certainly demonstrate my ignorance, and to my dazed mind “open sight” certainly sounded frank and on-the-square, so, of course, I just shrugged my shoulders and pointed as if I were perfectly familiar with both but under the circumstances I would take the “open sight.” They were both quite surprised and tried to open the discussion upon the relative merits of each, but I passed this up and made it emphatic that “open sight” it would be. I found afterwards that the “Raelt Saeul” was a great deal more accurate. So, they put the machine guns on the plane with “open sight.” I wanted in the worst way to get around and monkey with those machine guns, but I knew if I did I would certainly shoot some one up or kill myself, so I laid off. It was a terrible predicament; I knew I had no business going up and my conscience began to hurt me for the sake of the Frenchmen I was supposed to be protecting. Incidentally I must admit, in capital letters, that I had my own personal safety somewhat in mind. But it was too late—I had to go through with it. It was the proposition now of luck, and lots of it. We kept on with preparations; it was still foggy.

At nine o’clock we went in an automobile and got our breakfast, which for the Frenchmen always consisted of hot chocolate and a piece of bread, but for me it usually consisted of ham and eggs, and potatoes, and jelly, and bread, and butter and coffee, and as it usually consisted of that—as this was probably my last breakfast it certainly would not consist of less this time. So, I hied me forth after having my “chocolate” with the Frenchmen, and gave my landlady her usual two francs, in return for which I had the repast above accurately described.

Luck on the Wing — Part 12