CHAPTER 1
LEARNING TO FLY IN A "JENNY"
Letter excerpts by William Muir RusselFeaturing Edward Southard's vintage photos from 1919
Work has begun in earnest, and I must admit it is a more novel experience thanI expected. We were ordered to report at the field yesterday at seven o'clock,which meant rising at 5:15 in the morning, and a hasty breakfast. Dressed inour overalls, we were at once set to strenuous mental and manual labor; takinginstruction by lecture, and tearing down and assembling aeroplanes. The work isentirely new to me, and has to be done rapidly, but it is amazing how much onecan learn by practical experience even without instruction. At twelve o'clock,a bugle sounds, which informs us that we can check in our tools and rush toa small cafeteria across from the field and stand up to a delicious luncheon ofham and egg sandwiches and a bottle of coca cola. I then crawl into one of thehangars and have a rest—that is, if I rush my sandwich.
Another bugle at one o'clock, and we return to the assembling andrepair department. Work then continues until four o'clock, when we aresummoned for muster and inspection. At 4:30, we have drill for half anhour; then two or three times a week, a lecture on aero-dynamics. It mayseem incredible to you, but I am enjoying work, and outside of a few achingbones, never felt better in my life.
I had dinner and a good visit with Jim Buckley the other evening. Hehas failed in his physical exam, for aviation on account of bad eyes. Theaverage down here accepted is five out of twenty-four examined.
You will understand that it will take some little time for me to becomeaccustomed to work, so I will not write you again for a few days.
Never before have I looked forward so eagerly to Saturday afternoon andSunday for rest as now, at the end of the first real working week of my life.I felt, however, that such a breath from Heaven as a week-end rest was toogood to be true. Sure enough, it was so.
My work during each day has been practically the same. To prove howstrenuous it is, it will probably surprise you to know that I have been in bedevery night by a quarter of nine, with the exception of Sunday night guardduty. I have, however, been placed on the flying list, which means that Ihave a flight every day, weather permitting. My first ride was what theycall a joy ride. You merely sit and endeavor to accustom yourself to the newsensations. From now on, I will be permitted to drive with the instructor atanother set of controls behind me to correct any fault. It is hard to describethe feeling. At first it gives you very peculiar sensations in your stomach andears. One thing that surprised me was the roughness of the riding. Lookingat an aeroplane from the ground, it seems to glide, but the riding in theaeroplanes in use here is very rough and choppy. It may be a consolation toyou to know that I have been assigned to an instructor who is said to be themost conservative flyer on the field.
My second inoculation for typhoid yesterday gave me no fever. I returnedto my room, waiting all afternoon for evil effects to come, but instead ofthat, I felt better and better. This morning, I wakened at the usual earlyhour, and felt so good that I did not take the rest of my 24-hour leave, andreported to the field. It was a mistake, because I found about the busiest dayof my short enlistment experience awaiting me. Two other men and myselftore down two entire machines and packed them for shipment.
One young fellow came here, entered the aviation school, and has beenplaced under guard, and removed from the flying list because he cheatedin an examination. Although he is still in the camp, he will probably bedishonorably discharged. Captain Royce gave us a good talk on this subjectyesterday, and told us the way it was dealt with at West Point.
In comparison with an automobile, it has been surprising to me howsimple the construction of an aeroplane is, and the rapidity with which itcan be set up and torn down.
The last two days have been beautiful—the air clear and still. Ten tofifteen machines have been in flight nearly all the time. You cannot imaginethe difference between flying at Memphis and here. At Memphis, we hada small field with heavy woods on one side, where naturally the air wascool and descending rapidly, while on the other side was a lumber yard,on which the sun beat down heating the air, and causing it to rise. On afield of this kind, you can imagine the bumps you hit as you cross from theascending air into the still air, and then into the descending air. On theother hand, the field here is a mile square, and the surrounding countryopen, and of the same level, which causes the ride to be a gliding motion,perfectly smooth.
Yesterday, six new machines arrived, the first of a bunch of eighteenwhich have been ordered for this field, making forty-eight in all. They arestandard aeroplanes, manufactured, I think, in Plainfield, New Jersey. Thesame type of machine is used at Mineola.
Work has been progressing, although slowly. Since our bad storm theother evening, the weather has been better, and the ground is drying outvery rapidly for such a marshy place. The machines are being set up, and bythe end of the week, we ought to have all forty-eight in commission. Thenew machines show beautiful workmanship, but as yet we have had noneof them in the air. Some of these machines, we expect, will be equippedwith the new "stick" control. We are informed that we will have to learnits use—that is, instead of using a wheel to guide your elevators andailerons, you use a rod or stick, which you work sideways and forwards andbackwards to govern your movements. This control is used almost entirelyon the French and British machines. It can be more rapidly handled withone hand, leaving the other for the gun and the different manettes. Now,we are taught to hold the steering wheel at the top center and guide it withone hand, and thus practically follow the same motion as with the stick.
Yesterday, the Speedway races were held for the benefit of the Red Cross fund,and to co-operate and add to the interest, our field was asked to fly over anddescend on the Speedway. Only instructors and advanced students were allowedto take part in the flying. It was a mighty pretty sight to see the fifteen machinesgo skimming through the sky and coiling down, and then drop one at a timeinto the field. Mr. Boyer will be interested to know that his son Joe drove avery pretty race up to the 150-mile mark, when he was forced to withdraw onaccount of engine trouble. His running mate, the famous Louis Chevrolet, didnot make as good a record. The day was perfect, and they had a good crowd ofsixty thousand persons, a very successful show for the Red Cross.
The last week has been so perfect, and so much has been accomplished,that I feel as if I had a new lease of life, and am more enthusiastic aboutflying than ever.
The sun...
