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Death of an Air Ace, 1918
A
little more than a decade after the Wright brothers' historic
flight at Kittyhawk, the demands of war transformed the airplane
into a weapon of death. Made of wood, canvas and wire, these early
fighters took to the air filled with gasoline, ammunition and the
likelihood that too steep a dive would rip the wings to shreds. It
is no wonder that the pilots of these flimsy fliers measured their
life expectancy in weeks. These early pioneers of the air did not
have the luxury of a parachute. Just strapping oneself into the
cockpit and taking to the air was an act of bravery. Careening
into a mid-air duel-to-the-death with an enemy opponent required a
special courage.
Raoul Lufbery had this special
courage. His flying career began in 1911 when he became mechanic
for French pilot Marc Pourpe. The pair barnstormed their way
through China, Japan, India, and Egypt finally landing in Paris
just as war broke. Porpe joined the French Air Service while
Lufbery tagged along as his mechanic. To avenge Porpe’s death at
the end of 1914, Lufbery applied for pilot training and earned his
wings. He joined other American pilots in the Lafayette Escadrille
and scored his first kill in August 1916. By the end of 1917,
Lufbery was a leading ace with 17 official kills.
With America in the war, the
pilots of the Lafayette Escadrille were absorbed into the American
Air Service where their valuable experience was used to train the
fledgling pilots. Lufbery was assigned to the 94th Aero Squadron
as a teacher and advisor.
On the morning of May 19, 1918, a German
reconnaissance plane flew a low level photographic mission over
the airfield of the 94th Aero Squadron. An American flyer
immediately took to the air to challenge the intruder. His
attacks, however, were ineffective and he soon exhausted his
ammunition as the German pilot made a run back to his own lines.
Captain Eddie Rickenbacker, who would finish the war as America’s
top ace, described what happened next:
"In the meantime, Major Lufbery,
who had been watching the whole show from his barracks, jumped on
a motorcycle that was standing in the road and rushed to the
hangars. His own plane was out of commission. Another Nieuport was
standing on the field, apparently ready for use. It belonged to
Lieutenant Davis. The mechanics admitted everything was ready and
without another word Lufbery jumped into the machine and
immediately took off.
"With all his long string of
victories, Lufbery had never brought down an enemy airplane within
the Allied lines. All seventeen of his early successes with the
Lafayette Escadrille and his last success - when he had gone out
to avenge Jimmy Hall - all had been won across the German lines.
He had never seen the wreckage of a single of his victories.
Undoubtedly he seized this opportunity of engaging in a combat
almost within sight of our field with impetuous abandon. Knowing
nothing of the condition of his guns nor the small peculiarities
of his present mount, Lufbery flew in to the attack.
"With far greater speed than his
heavier antagonist, Major Lufbery climbed in pursuit. In
approximately five minutes after leaving the ground he had reached
two thousand feet and had arrived within range of the Albatros six
miles away. The first attack was witnessed by all the watchers.
"Luf fired several short bursts
as he dived in to the attack. Then he swerved away and appeared to
busy himself with his gun, which evidently had jammed. Another
circle over their heads and he had cleared the jam. Again he
rushed the enemy from their rear, when suddenly old Luf's machine
was seen to burst into flames. He passed the Albatros and
proceeded for three or four seconds on a straight course. Then to
the horrified watchers below there appeared the figure of their
hero in a headlong leap from the cockpit of the burning aircraft!
Lufbery had preferred a leap to certain death rather than endure
the slow torture of burning to a crisp. His body fell in the
garden of a peasant woman's house in a little town just north of
Nancy. A small stream ran nearby and it was thought later that
poor Lufbery seeing this small chance for life had jumped with the
intention of striking this water. He had leaped from a height of
two hundred feet and his machine was carrying him at a speed of
120 miles per hour! A hopeless but a heroic attempt to preserve
his life for his country!
"I remember a conversation we
had had with Major Lufbery on the subject of catching a fire in
the air a few days previous to this melancholy accident. I had
asked Luf what he would do in a case of this kind - jump or stay
with the machine? All of us had a great respect for Major
Lufbery's experience and we were anxious to hear his response to
this question.
"if you jump you certainly haven't got a
chance"
'I should always stay with the
machine,' Luf responded. 'If you jump you certainly haven't got a
chance. On the other hand there is always a good chance of
slide-slipping your airplane down in such a way that you fan the
flames away from yourself and the wings. Perhaps you can even put
the fire out before you reach the ground. It has been done. Me for
staying with the old 'bus, every time!'
"What an irony now to recall old
Luf's suggestions! His machine had received a tracer bullet in the
fuel tank. The same bullet evidently cut away the thumb of his
right hand as it clasped the joystick. The next instant the little
craft was but one mass of flame, from which there was no means of
escape."
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