SOME WORDS IN EXPLANATION
If any one should be interested enough to inquire as to the reason for my becoming a sky spy, an a?rial observer, a deuce, or whatever one chooses to call it, I should certainly speak the truth and affirm that it was not the result of calm, cool and deliberate thought. I have always had a holy horror of airplanes and to this day I cannot say that I exactly enjoy riding in them. My sole reason for flying now is that I am still in the Air Service and there is not an excuse in the world for a young man being an air officer if he does not spend a part of his time in that element. Every boy in his own heart wants to be a soldier whether his mother raises him that way or not: as a boy and as a man I wanted to be an infantryman. Upon being commissioned in Infantry1 following the First Officers’ Training Camp, I was about to have a lifetime’s ambition gratified by being placed in charge of a company at Camp Lewis, Washington, when along with two hundred other new officers I was ordered to Fort Sill, Oklahoma, for assignment with the Missouri and Kansas troops. I had been enthusiastic over the infantry, I liked it fine, and most of all I wanted to train my company and lead them into action. Arriving at Fort Sill, we found that the troops had viiinot arrived and would not come for at least a month. Meanwhile we stagnated2 and lost our pep. The papers were full of the pressing need of help at the battle front and still all around I could see nothing but destructive delay. It was the old call of the individual—for though my heart was set upon the ideal of training my own men for the supreme3 test yet I could not stand the delay. I was determined4 to get to the Front and with that as my paramount5 ideal, I would take the first opportunity that would lead to its realization6.
The chance came one morning early in September, 1917, when one of my friends, Lieut. Armin Herold, caught me going out of the mess hall late (as usual) for breakfast and excitedly told me that the Division Adjutant had just tacked7 a little notice on the door at Headquarters, in response to an urgent request from General Pershing, that ten officers who ranked as First or Second Lieutenants8 would be detailed10 at once for training as airplane observers, and would be sent to France immediately upon completion of their training. Volunteers were requested. That part about “training as airplane observers” was Greek to me—I did not know that such things existed—but at the word “France” I pricked11 up my ears like a fire horse at the sound of a bell. My decision was formed then and there. I was going to be an a?rial observer, whatever that was, and nothing was going to keep me from taking that chance, my first opportunity, to go to France.
I almost lost my breakfast at the thought of ixhaving to ride in an airplane, but that promise to send me to France at once was an anesthetic12 to my better judgment13, and I right away made my first flight, au pied, covering that ten acres of plowed14 ground over to the Division Headquarters in ten flat. I rushed in and made application.
The Divisional Signal Officer was a Major who felt that a?rial observation was an extremely technical branch. He did not know a terrible lot about it, and told me that he had placed the bulletin on the board only a few minutes before and was surprised that I had responded so quickly. He asked me a lot of trick questions as to my technical training, and now, since I have made a fair record as an a?rial observer, I don’t mind making the confession15 that I, along with other conspirators16 desiring early action, made several “for the period of the emergency” statements. The Major wanted to know if I knew anything about civil engineering. I told him I did, but, as a matter of fact, I hardly knew the difference between a compass and a level. He asked me if I got sick in an airplane. I flinched17 a little, but told him “No,” the presumption18 of innocence19 being in my favor. He then asked me if I had ever ridden in one. I laughed so heartily20 at this joke that he was convinced that I had. The truth of the matter was that previous to that time if anyone had ever got me in an airplane they would certainly have had to hog-tie me and drag me to the ordeal21. He then wanted to know what experience I had with mechanical engines. I told him that my experience xwas quite varied22 and that I considered myself an expert on mechanical engines, having had a course in mechanical engineering. This was all true, yet I do not, to this day, know the principles surrounding the operations of an engine, and if anything ever should go wrong, the motor would rust23 from age before I could fix it.
My application was hasty and unpremeditated and I did not actually realize what I had done until I got outside—then, just as after the unpremeditated murder, the murderer will turn from the body and cry, “What have I done?”—so I turned from that house with exactly the same thought, and as I walked back to my barracks I kept repeating to myself, “What have I done!” “What have I done!” The big question then was to find out the nature of the new job for which I had volunteered. The first question I asked of the two hundred officers when I returned to the barracks was: “What is an airplane observer?” No one present could enlighten me.
I had volunteered for so many things in this man’s army which had never panned out either for me or for any one else, that I was naturally apprehensive24 as to the result. Having in mind such dire25 consequences should the thing turn out, and yet hopeful of a more pleasant outcome, I alternately anticipated and naturally brooded a great deal over the thing.
The next morning I learned that the telegram had actually been sent to the War Department at Washington and that my name had been first on the list. xiThe package of fate was not only sealed, but clearly addressed, and I was the consignee26.
In a remarkably27 short time the orders came from Washington and ten of us were loaded in a Government truck and transported to Post Field. Of those ten Lieutenants it is interesting to note that seven got to the Front, and from those seven one can pick five of America’s greatest sky spies. Every one of the seven was decorated or promoted in the field. They were Captain Len Hammond, of San Francisco; Captain Phil Henderson, of Chehallis, Oregon; Captain Steve Barrows, of Berkeley, California; Captain How Douglas, of Covina, California; First Lieut. Armin Herold of Redlands, California, and First Lieutenant9 “Red” Gunderson, of Spokane, Washington. These were the first officers detailed in the United States to “A?rial Observation.”
The Observation School at Fort Sill was just being started and was yet unorganized, so after a very extensive course covering four weeks of about one hour a day, in which we learned practically nothing of real help, we were ordered to France for duty.
After an unusually short stay in the S.O.S., or Zone of the Rear, we get to the Zone of Advance at a place named Amanty, where we were stationed at an observer’s school, and, after a very incomplete course there, we were distributed among French squadrons operating over the Front, in order that we might get some actual experience, since the Americans had no squadrons yet ready for the Front.
xiiBut a word as to the reason for this book. Here is how it happened. We were at this school at Amanty, hoping each day for orders to move us on up to the real front. It was in February, 1918, and one day, by a great streak28 of good fortune, Major Schwab, the school adjutant, picked on me as I was passing the headquarters. “Hey, what’s your name!” he said, to which I replied, with a “wish-to-make-good” salute29.
“Here!” he continued, in a most matter-of-fact way, “you are excused from classes this morning. Take the commanding officer’s car, go down to Gondrecourt, and pick up three Y.M.C.A. girls who are going to give an entertainment out here this afternoon. Report them to me.”
This was an unexpected pleasure, so, with all pomp and dignity, I seated myself in the rear of a huge Cadillac, with “Official” painted all over the sides of it. It was my first ride in the select government transportation—I had previously30 drawn31 trucks. Then we whisked along the ten miles to Gondrecourt. The surprise was a happy one, because the three girls were peaches, and, an aviator32 being a scarce article in those days (and I wore my leather coat to let them know that I was one), I was received most cordially.
We had just started back to the camp, and I was Hero Number One of Heroes All, when they all harped33 as of one accord, demanding if I would not take them up in an airplane. This is a feminine plea which never seems to become old, because every xiiigirl you see nowadays still asks the same question. But I maintained silence on the subject of taking them up. So, they talked about aces34, seemingly positive that I was one of those things—what a wonderful flyer I must be—and a lot of other bunk35, until I began to feel exalted36 as if I were of the royalty37, for it seemed that I was being worshipped.
I interrupted their wild rambling38 to ask if they objected to my smoking. Of course, being a hero aviator, there was no chance for objection. So, as I unbuttoned my leather coat, threw back the left lapel, and pulled out a stogie from my pocket, the eyes of one cute little frizzle-haired girl fell upon my aviation insignia, which, of course, consisted of only one wing. Wild eyed and with marked disdain39, she exclaimed sneeringly40 to the others, “Oh, he’s only an observer! A half aviator!”
Actually I had not claimed otherwise, but, as long as I live, I shall never forget the sting of those words, and especially the biting insinuation on the word “only.” To their minds I was a branded hypocrite. Talk about the poor man standing41 before the criminal judge and being sentenced to the impossible “99 years” in the penitentiary42; well, take it from me, this was worse, for my foolish pride had been embellished43 to an acute cockishness by this preliminary adoration44, but my soaring little airplane of selfish egoism took a decided45 nose-dive—it smashed my whole day’s happiness.
The other girls, and in fact this little frizzle-topped girl, too, realized immediately the impropriety xivof the remark, and tried in the most sincere way to temper the sting and alleviate46 my apparent embarrassment47. The only hollow remark I could offer, in my futile48 attempt at indifferent repartee49, was to the effect that pilots would be aces always, and observers, being the lowest card of the deck, must be deuces. They laughed—I don’t know why—perhaps to jolly me along. I intended to say something else, but they took advantage of the necessity of my taking a breath—by laughing—so I dropped the “deuce” gag, but, as the conversation went on, the more chagrined50 I became.
When we finally got to camp, I turned over the precious cargo51 to the camp adjutant, and then struck out for a long hike by my lonesome to walk it off.
But, like an “ignorant idealist,” heeding52 the call of the fair sex, I went to the entertainment that afternoon, and, as I left the hut with several other observers, we met the entertainers who were now walking along in company with the commanding officer. Of course, we all saluted53, the commanding officer sloppily54 returned it, and the party passed on. Then this same little frizzle-top, red-headed girl, as if by afterthought, recognized me, turned around, and begrudgingly55 nodded as if meeting a disgraced member of the family. She disdainfully called the attention of the commanding officer and the other girls to my humble56 presence by saying, “He is the observer that came out with us in the car—you know the ‘deuce,’” and, I might add, she laughed lightly xvand shrugged57 her shoulders. I’ll tell the world it hurt my pride, and I was off with all of womankind for the time being. I had labored58 under the impression that an observer was some big gun in aviation. Believe me, she took it out of me.
In fact, these two incidents with this young lady revealed to me for the first time the real insignificance59 of my position as an a?rial observer. A thousand times afterwards, when I still wore an observer’s insignia, people would look at it and, for some psychological reason or other, they always seemed to say either by sound or facial expression, “only an observer.” Even to-day, as throughout the war, the same haunting epithet60 follows the observer. In fact, in the American Expeditionary Force, we had an unofficial rating of military personnel which classified the various grades as follows: general officers, field officers, captains, lieutenants, pilots, sergeants61, corporals, privates, cadets, German prisoners and last a?rial observers. And no matter which way one considered it, the a?rial observer was the lowest form of human existence. For a long time he was not even eligible62 for promotion63 or command. Indeed, in the game of war, he was the deuce—the lowest card of the deck—and the first to be discarded.
So far as official recognition is concerned the observer is gradually coming into his own. After comparing the fatalities64 in the various branches of aviation, it is agreed as one of the lessons of the war that the observer has had a hard deal as have also xviobservation pilots and bombardment pilots. In recognition of this principle, the Director of Air Service in a letter of January 5th, 1920, in declining to sanction the word “ace,” wrote as follows: “The United States Air Service does not use the title ‘Ace’ in referring to those who are credited officially with five or more victories over enemy aircraft. It is not the policy of the Air Service to glorify65 one particular branch of aeronautics66, aviation or aero-station at the expense of another.... The work of observation and bombardment is considered equally as hazardous67 as that of pursuit, but due to the fact that the observation and bombardment pilots are not called upon merely to destroy enemy aircraft, it should not be allowed to aid in establishing a popular comparison of results merely by relatives victories.” I notice that the Director, in spite of the nice things he said about the observation and bombardment branches of the service, has expressly referred to “pilots,” which of course makes me peevish68. But so it is. The Director undoubtedly69 intended to include observers; indeed, the observer is the man who does the shooting from observation and bombardment planes—but it is the same old story—the observer is so insignificant70 that he was just naturally overlooked. Indeed, an observer is only a quasi-aviator, as a friend with a legal mind once said—and after he used that word “only,” I hated him.
And in public appreciation71, they consider the observer as the deuce—the card without value—with no definite status, just an inexplicable72 freak habitating xviiaround aviation. The common acceptation of an a?rial observer is a mild, passive, sort of a guy, who wears nose glasses, is mathematically inclined, and who, in battle, is privileged to run from the enemy, being, as it were, tamed and “too proud to fight.”
Thus, to present to the public a more consistent version of the real life of the observer at the Front in his various r?les, and hoping in a way to dispel73 this very unfortunate public misunderstanding, this book of my own modest experiences as an observer is presented for consideration under the title “Luck on the Wing.”
Elmer Haslett,
Major, Air Service
United States Army
Washington, February, 1920.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
infantry
|
|
| n.[总称]步兵(部队) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
stagnated
|
|
| v.停滞，不流动，不发展( stagnate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
supreme
|
|
| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
determined
|
|
| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
paramount
|
|
| a.最重要的，最高权力的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
realization
|
|
| n.实现；认识到，深刻了解 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
tacked
|
|
| 用平头钉钉( tack的过去式和过去分词 )； 附加，增补； 帆船抢风行驶，用粗线脚缝 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
lieutenants
|
|
| n.陆军中尉( lieutenant的名词复数 )；副职官员；空军；仅低于…官阶的官员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
lieutenant
|
|
| n.陆军中尉，海军上尉；代理官员，副职官员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
detailed
|
|
| adj.详细的，详尽的，极注意细节的，完全的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
pricked
|
|
| 刺，扎，戳( prick的过去式和过去分词 )； 刺伤； 刺痛； 使剧痛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
anesthetic
|
|
| n.麻醉剂，麻药；adj.麻醉的，失去知觉的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
judgment
|
|
| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
plowed
|
|
| v.耕( plow的过去式和过去分词 )；犁耕；费力穿过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
confession
|
|
| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
conspirators
|
|
| n.共谋者，阴谋家( conspirator的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
flinched
|
|
| v.（因危险和痛苦）退缩，畏惧( flinch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
presumption
|
|
| n.推测，可能性，冒昧，放肆，[法律]推定 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
innocence
|
|
| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
heartily
|
|
| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
ordeal
|
|
| n.苦难经历，（尤指对品格、耐力的）严峻考验 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
varied
|
|
| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
rust
|
|
| n.锈；v.生锈；(脑子)衰退 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
apprehensive
|
|
| adj.担心的，恐惧的，善于领会的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
dire
|
|
| adj.可怕的，悲惨的，阴惨的，极端的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
consignee
|
|
| n.受托者，收件人，代销人；承销人；收货人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
remarkably
|
|
| ad.不同寻常地，相当地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
streak
|
|
| n.条理，斑纹，倾向，少许，痕迹；v.加条纹，变成条纹，奔驰，快速移动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
salute
|
|
| vi.行礼，致意，问候，放礼炮；vt.向…致意，迎接，赞扬；n.招呼，敬礼，礼炮 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
previously
|
|
| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
drawn
|
|
| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
aviator
|
|
| n.飞行家，飞行员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
harped
|
|
| vi.弹竖琴（harp的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
aces
|
|
| abbr.adjustable convertible-rate equity security (units) 可调节的股本证券兑换率；aircraft ejection seat 飞机弹射座椅；automatic control evaluation simulator 自动控制评估模拟器n.擅长…的人( ace的名词复数 )；精于…的人；（ 网球 ）（对手接不到发球的）发球得分；爱司球 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
bunk
|
|
| n.(车、船等倚壁而设的)铺位；废话 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
exalted
|
|
| adj.(地位等)高的，崇高的；尊贵的，高尚的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
royalty
|
|
| n.皇家，皇族 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
rambling
|
|
| adj.[建]凌乱的，杂乱的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
disdain
|
|
| n.鄙视，轻视；v.轻视，鄙视，不屑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
sneeringly
|
|
| 嘲笑地，轻蔑地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
penitentiary
|
|
| n.感化院；监狱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
embellished
|
|
| v.美化( embellish的过去式和过去分词 )；装饰；修饰；润色 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
adoration
|
|
| n.爱慕，崇拜 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
decided
|
|
| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
alleviate
|
|
| v.减轻，缓和，缓解(痛苦等) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
embarrassment
|
|
| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
futile
|
|
| adj.无效的，无用的，无希望的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
repartee
|
|
| n.机敏的应答 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
chagrined
|
|
| adj.懊恼的，苦恼的v.使懊恼，使懊丧，使悔恨( chagrin的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
cargo
|
|
| n.(一只船或一架飞机运载的)货物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
heeding
|
|
| v.听某人的劝告，听从( heed的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
saluted
|
|
| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的过去式和过去分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
sloppily
|
|
| adv.马虎地，草率地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
begrudgingly
|
|
| 小气地，吝啬地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
humble
|
|
| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
shrugged
|
|
| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
labored
|
|
| adj.吃力的，谨慎的v.努力争取(for)( labor的过去式和过去分词 )；苦干；详细分析；（指引擎）缓慢而困难地运转 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
insignificance
|
|
| n.不重要；无价值；无意义 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
epithet
|
|
| n.（用于褒贬人物等的）表述形容词，修饰语 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
sergeants
|
|
| 警官( sergeant的名词复数 )； （美国警察）警佐； （英国警察）巡佐； 陆军（或空军）中士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
eligible
|
|
| adj.有条件被选中的；(尤指婚姻等)合适(意)的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
promotion
|
|
| n.提升，晋级；促销，宣传 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
fatalities
|
|
| n.恶性事故( fatality的名词复数 )；死亡；致命性；命运 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
glorify
|
|
| vt.颂扬，赞美，使增光，美化 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
aeronautics
|
|
| n.航空术，航空学 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
hazardous
|
|
| adj.(有)危险的，冒险的；碰运气的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
peevish
|
|
| adj.易怒的，坏脾气的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
undoubtedly
|
|
| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
insignificant
|
|
| adj.无关紧要的，可忽略的，无意义的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
appreciation
|
|
| n.评价；欣赏；感谢；领会，理解；价格上涨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
inexplicable
|
|
| adj.无法解释的，难理解的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
dispel
|
|
| vt.驱走，驱散，消除 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |