Scott
15 July 2007, 04:15 PM
EPIC AIR FIGHT.
—
Unofficial American Pilot Who Engaged an Enemy "Circus."
—
RECOMMENDED FOR TWO V.C.s.
—
The amazing adventures of an American boy who, flying a British machine, in a single morning took part in a fight with twelve German machines, seven of which he sent down before swooping out of the air and charging headlong into a detachment of German infantry, are described by Mr. John Russell for the United States Public Information Committee.
As part of the same adventure the boy, captured by Germans after landing, bluffed them with his compass which he pretended was a grenade, took one of them prisoner, rescued a wounded French soldier, swam a river under fire while he drove his prisoner before him and carried the other, and finally arrived in the Allied lines, where he would not give his name "for fear of being scolded."
The name of this extraordinary boy is First Lieutenant Edwin G. Chamberlain, of the United States Marine Corps. The exploits which he crowded into a few short hours have won recommendations for the Victoria Cross and its American equivalent, the Congressional Medal.
About four weeks ago Chamberlain presented himself at the quarters of a British major commanding a squadron of the R.A.F. in France and demanded a job, explaining that he had the personal but not the official permission of the American Forces Commander to be there. He requested permission to visit the front at the time fighting was in progress—he was there to gather information to be used in the discharge of his duty.
OVER THE BATTLEFIELD
Chamberlain was allowed to go "unofficially" on the morning offensive patrol, and again in the afternoon. Next day he was ordered to escort French bombing planes which were to make a heavy attack over the enemy communications.
Thirty strong that morning the detachment went about its work, writes Mr. Russell. By nine o'clock it had reached the fringe of the battle. Over a belt of some two miles hereabouts the action was fluid, with much mixed fighting in progress and a disorganised defence. That meant a fine opening for the bombers, and bridges, roads, and lines were being merrily smashed when the Boche decided he had had enough, and rose to fight it out in the air.
Here a crisp report takes up the tale:
"Our formation was attacked by about thirty enemy aircraft, and each side lost three planes. Soon afterwards our formation was again attacked by some forty enemy aircraft, and in the fight that followed Lieut. Chamberlain's engine was damaged and his right-hand gun jammed. Up to this time he had already forced one enemy plane to leave the fight."
Chamberlain ought to have been satisfied with the experience already gained. He ought to have headed straight for home. Instead he stayed by one of the bombers to help escort him in company with two Britishers, Capt. L— and Lieut. H—, and the four were still well behind the enemy lines when a final pack of twelve enemy aircraft closed on them for a finish fight.
Chamberlain's engine was running badly. He lost speed and altitude. Moreover, his right gun was still jammed, and he had only one hundred rounds left in the other. But when one of the enemy singled him out he promptly opened at long range and forced the German to earth in a fast dive.
THE ENEMY "QUIT."
Climbing into the sun unobserved he picked off the nearest German with a burst of 20 rounds at 30 yards. The next he shattered with 25 rounds at 20 yards. Five of the enemy attacked him and his engine went dead at he same minute. In a haze of bullets he cut up through a loop, dodged into a side-slip, and shot a wing off another German.
The leader of the German squadron then came for him head-on, but Chamberlain had power again, and he planted his remaining shots point-blank. The leader went down on his back, with his body hanging from the gray-yellow machine as it circled to a crash. Thereupon the rest of the enemy quit a bad game.
Then Chamberlain swooped for a support unit of German troops, pumping a stream from his second machine-gun, which up to that time had been jammed, cutting them down, scattering them right and left like frightened quail into the crops. At an altitude of only a few feet he cut over and among them, and came to ground under partial cover about one-eighth of a mile in front of the enemy main line and a quarter of a mile from the French outposts.
What followed is best told in the report of the British major: "Chamberlain attempted to save his instruments, and got the compass before the enemy shelled the plane, and coolly tried to set fire to the plane with his maps. He then crawled to a wood, where he encountered an enemy patrol of three Germans escaping from the French lines, and, although being unarmed, he threatened the enemy with his round compass, which looked like a grenade, and two of the enemy ran and one surrendered, and Lieutenant Chamberlain brought him in a prisoner. Further along on a stream he found a French Colonial wounded soldier, and under fire of enemy snipers he boldly carried the wounded man though the open stream, his clothes being torn by enemy fire, and delivered both the wounded Colonial and prisoner to a French outpost. He then reached a 'phone and reported 'ready for duty' in typical Yankee fashion."
What the young phenomenon did next was equally extraordinary. He tried to hide the whole affair. He refused to give the French his name or any account of himself. He wanted to get away and to have nothing said of it.
CHAMBERLAIN'S OWN STORY.
It only remains to append the boy's own testimony. He describes the work of the bombers—a train was hit which blew up "and raised an awful stew"—and calls the attack by 30 of the enemy "an awful dog fight." Of the final fight with the twelve enemy machines he says:
"I looked up to see 12 enemy aeroplane fighters, a circus lot, circling my companions quite a way above me, and one coming for me. My engine was missing badly and it had just gone dead a moment before, but I went to meet the E.A. just like I meant it, and fired just to break the strain, and he suddenly pitched, and drove straight for the ground, and kept on going rather evenly. I guess I got his engine. Just then my engine came alive, and I started up to join the 'buzzard dance,' as the odd one was sitting high, evidently the leader, and watching for someone to slaughter. My two companions were darting this way and that, trying to force the circle, but the Germans were manoeuvring and tightening the circle gradually.
"They didn't see me, so I got into a hazy sun just over their circle, and as two of them went for Captain L., I went for them, nose down vertical, engine full on, and I got the first one at thirty yards with twenty of my on hundred rounds of my gun working, and he blew up and went down in burning pieces as I dodged to miss him; the second turned square in front of me, and I got him with another burst of twenty-five rounds at twenty yards, and he spun, with flames all over the machine, the pilot jumping out; then my engine commenced missing.
HIS LAST 30 ROUNDS.
"I looked around to see five coming for me, including the leader in a grey-yellow marked Albatross machine. Just then I saw Captain L— and Lieutenant H— go after one each, and one spun in flames. The other's wing fell off. Then my engine stopped altogether, and the Germans came in after me in twos. I dived vertical a second, then pulled into a loop without power and kicked into a vertical side-slip at the top, and there directly under m was a desperately manoeuvring enemy airplane; but I had him, and down he went with a dropping wing in a fantastical spin.
"I then went for the four remaining enemy aircraft, and the leader was the first I saw. He pulled a wonderful wing over at me, but I got the idea firs, and we met; it was head on, and I fired my last thirty rounds and pulled up with bullets going by me in a hail. Then I looked, and there was the leader diving on his back, and he was hanging out of his machine. He was evidently himself hit. I turned desperate with no more shots, and saw my companions coming after the three remaining enemy airplanes, who were making off in wide circles."
The Daily News - Saturday, August 31, 1918
—
Unofficial American Pilot Who Engaged an Enemy "Circus."
—
RECOMMENDED FOR TWO V.C.s.
—
The amazing adventures of an American boy who, flying a British machine, in a single morning took part in a fight with twelve German machines, seven of which he sent down before swooping out of the air and charging headlong into a detachment of German infantry, are described by Mr. John Russell for the United States Public Information Committee.
As part of the same adventure the boy, captured by Germans after landing, bluffed them with his compass which he pretended was a grenade, took one of them prisoner, rescued a wounded French soldier, swam a river under fire while he drove his prisoner before him and carried the other, and finally arrived in the Allied lines, where he would not give his name "for fear of being scolded."
The name of this extraordinary boy is First Lieutenant Edwin G. Chamberlain, of the United States Marine Corps. The exploits which he crowded into a few short hours have won recommendations for the Victoria Cross and its American equivalent, the Congressional Medal.
About four weeks ago Chamberlain presented himself at the quarters of a British major commanding a squadron of the R.A.F. in France and demanded a job, explaining that he had the personal but not the official permission of the American Forces Commander to be there. He requested permission to visit the front at the time fighting was in progress—he was there to gather information to be used in the discharge of his duty.
OVER THE BATTLEFIELD
Chamberlain was allowed to go "unofficially" on the morning offensive patrol, and again in the afternoon. Next day he was ordered to escort French bombing planes which were to make a heavy attack over the enemy communications.
Thirty strong that morning the detachment went about its work, writes Mr. Russell. By nine o'clock it had reached the fringe of the battle. Over a belt of some two miles hereabouts the action was fluid, with much mixed fighting in progress and a disorganised defence. That meant a fine opening for the bombers, and bridges, roads, and lines were being merrily smashed when the Boche decided he had had enough, and rose to fight it out in the air.
Here a crisp report takes up the tale:
"Our formation was attacked by about thirty enemy aircraft, and each side lost three planes. Soon afterwards our formation was again attacked by some forty enemy aircraft, and in the fight that followed Lieut. Chamberlain's engine was damaged and his right-hand gun jammed. Up to this time he had already forced one enemy plane to leave the fight."
Chamberlain ought to have been satisfied with the experience already gained. He ought to have headed straight for home. Instead he stayed by one of the bombers to help escort him in company with two Britishers, Capt. L— and Lieut. H—, and the four were still well behind the enemy lines when a final pack of twelve enemy aircraft closed on them for a finish fight.
Chamberlain's engine was running badly. He lost speed and altitude. Moreover, his right gun was still jammed, and he had only one hundred rounds left in the other. But when one of the enemy singled him out he promptly opened at long range and forced the German to earth in a fast dive.
THE ENEMY "QUIT."
Climbing into the sun unobserved he picked off the nearest German with a burst of 20 rounds at 30 yards. The next he shattered with 25 rounds at 20 yards. Five of the enemy attacked him and his engine went dead at he same minute. In a haze of bullets he cut up through a loop, dodged into a side-slip, and shot a wing off another German.
The leader of the German squadron then came for him head-on, but Chamberlain had power again, and he planted his remaining shots point-blank. The leader went down on his back, with his body hanging from the gray-yellow machine as it circled to a crash. Thereupon the rest of the enemy quit a bad game.
Then Chamberlain swooped for a support unit of German troops, pumping a stream from his second machine-gun, which up to that time had been jammed, cutting them down, scattering them right and left like frightened quail into the crops. At an altitude of only a few feet he cut over and among them, and came to ground under partial cover about one-eighth of a mile in front of the enemy main line and a quarter of a mile from the French outposts.
What followed is best told in the report of the British major: "Chamberlain attempted to save his instruments, and got the compass before the enemy shelled the plane, and coolly tried to set fire to the plane with his maps. He then crawled to a wood, where he encountered an enemy patrol of three Germans escaping from the French lines, and, although being unarmed, he threatened the enemy with his round compass, which looked like a grenade, and two of the enemy ran and one surrendered, and Lieutenant Chamberlain brought him in a prisoner. Further along on a stream he found a French Colonial wounded soldier, and under fire of enemy snipers he boldly carried the wounded man though the open stream, his clothes being torn by enemy fire, and delivered both the wounded Colonial and prisoner to a French outpost. He then reached a 'phone and reported 'ready for duty' in typical Yankee fashion."
What the young phenomenon did next was equally extraordinary. He tried to hide the whole affair. He refused to give the French his name or any account of himself. He wanted to get away and to have nothing said of it.
CHAMBERLAIN'S OWN STORY.
It only remains to append the boy's own testimony. He describes the work of the bombers—a train was hit which blew up "and raised an awful stew"—and calls the attack by 30 of the enemy "an awful dog fight." Of the final fight with the twelve enemy machines he says:
"I looked up to see 12 enemy aeroplane fighters, a circus lot, circling my companions quite a way above me, and one coming for me. My engine was missing badly and it had just gone dead a moment before, but I went to meet the E.A. just like I meant it, and fired just to break the strain, and he suddenly pitched, and drove straight for the ground, and kept on going rather evenly. I guess I got his engine. Just then my engine came alive, and I started up to join the 'buzzard dance,' as the odd one was sitting high, evidently the leader, and watching for someone to slaughter. My two companions were darting this way and that, trying to force the circle, but the Germans were manoeuvring and tightening the circle gradually.
"They didn't see me, so I got into a hazy sun just over their circle, and as two of them went for Captain L., I went for them, nose down vertical, engine full on, and I got the first one at thirty yards with twenty of my on hundred rounds of my gun working, and he blew up and went down in burning pieces as I dodged to miss him; the second turned square in front of me, and I got him with another burst of twenty-five rounds at twenty yards, and he spun, with flames all over the machine, the pilot jumping out; then my engine commenced missing.
HIS LAST 30 ROUNDS.
"I looked around to see five coming for me, including the leader in a grey-yellow marked Albatross machine. Just then I saw Captain L— and Lieutenant H— go after one each, and one spun in flames. The other's wing fell off. Then my engine stopped altogether, and the Germans came in after me in twos. I dived vertical a second, then pulled into a loop without power and kicked into a vertical side-slip at the top, and there directly under m was a desperately manoeuvring enemy airplane; but I had him, and down he went with a dropping wing in a fantastical spin.
"I then went for the four remaining enemy aircraft, and the leader was the first I saw. He pulled a wonderful wing over at me, but I got the idea firs, and we met; it was head on, and I fired my last thirty rounds and pulled up with bullets going by me in a hail. Then I looked, and there was the leader diving on his back, and he was hanging out of his machine. He was evidently himself hit. I turned desperate with no more shots, and saw my companions coming after the three remaining enemy airplanes, who were making off in wide circles."
The Daily News - Saturday, August 31, 1918