HARD LUCK IN THE AIR.

Dominion, Volume 9, Issue 2717, 11 March 1916, Page 12

HARD LUCK IN THE AIR.

4 HOW A FRENCH AIRMAN WAS CAMMED

•'Yviiat memory of tho war is it that | most impressed me? To tell the truth, i nave to many that it is hard to Uliiko ft ciioico. i might say that it was the first cannon shoe fired at ino in Lorraine, when 1 was Tlyiiig at a height of i'MO metres, and that made mo sevk security behind a cloud. Again, I might say it was the burning of Geltieviiler, wiiicll i saw "from 011 high, witli I'iio mlianiKints running through thei tlamcs, and the Germans dancing like demons around that hell. Or, perhaps it, would bo the bloody earthward .shout nr au enemy aeroplane vanquished in the air." This was Eugene Gilbert, the famous airman, talking of his adventures to Jaques Mortaue, ami reported by the I'aris correspondent of the Now York ''Tribune." "i'maUy,'" he continued, "was it my departure for Friedrichsliafon in ail aeroplane surcharged with petrol 'and explosives? Well, no, it was not any of these. For me the most tragic of all my memories is tlia lust hour I spent iu the air before I came down in Switzerland to be interned for the remainder of tho war. "As you know, I departed from Fried.richshafeii 011 June 27 to bombard the Zeppelin hangars. I had accomplish, ed my mission and was flying joyous!) on the homeward journey, when I suddenly discovered that the petrol was not, reaching the engine reservoir. A screw hajl been lost 'from the pump that forced the petrol from the reserve tanks into the engine, reservoir unde( pressure. 1 hud only thirty litres of petrol in the reservoir and 150 kilometres to go to reach the French lines. The calculation was simple. My machine used 'twenty litres of petrol an hour at a speed of 100 kilometres. I had, then,' just enough to bring me to •safety. "But fate was against me. I was flying against a head* wind, and could not make 100 kilometres an hour, while the consumption of petrol was increase ed. I tried to plug the hole in tho pump with my finger or my handkerchief, but it would not, work.' I considered flying over- Switzerland, which would make my line shorter by' several kilometres. But that would not do, because it would be a violation of neutrality. There remained two alternatives —I could fly higher and economise petrol, but lose speed, or I could fly lower and gain speed, but use more fuoL "I decided to go higher, and mounted to 3600 metres. Those were tho minutes of agony. I was above tho clouds, and for u few seconds at a time on"y could 1 catch a glimpse of the Rhine or a patch of earth, just enough to enable "toe to consult my map and sec how fai 1 stili had to go. Nevertheless, I always hoped to find a favourable current of air. -But, unhappily, as the distance diminished the petrol failed, dcspito all my efforts at economy. What could I do to save a few drops of that precious liquid? I made somo calculations in minutes and litres during that hour and alinlt. ■ But the problem always remained the same —go quickoi and uso more petrol or consume less and go slower. What a vicious circle 1 I was in tho midst of my studios when the motor ceased to work. Already I "Alien I had hoped that it would continue to turn without essence! What folly I It was now the descent. ■ "Boforo 1110 I could see the Vosges,' our trenches, and our little white tents. Below me was the Rhine, with Germany to tho right. Nothing doing 011 that side! Switzerland was to tho left. Well, I must descend there and ask their hospitality. Aiid then I would depart again after I had secured a few litres of potrol. Five minutes would do for me, provided those devils of Swiss noldifcrs did not arrive before tho five minutes had flown. But it is far from the cup to tho lip—or rather from tho attcrrissage to the departure —and a little stono hidden in flic grass was all that was needed for my undoing . It made my machino jump shamefully, much to the detriment 0!) iho propeller. Nine minutes later i was a- prisoner And that is the memory of the war that most impressed me."