Luck on the Wing: Thirteen Stories of a Sky Spy

by Elmer Haslett

He made a landing in a small wheat field at the French Army Headquarters. It would have been folly to go on to the American Airdrome for if ever seconds were golden this was the time. He told the supreme commander the extent of his observation and how far back the Germans were concentrated. It was realized that it would be absolutely inconceivable to attempt to hold back this advance by a frontal attack. There was only one thing to do—we must flank the German Army and force them to withdraw or be annihilated. This must be done within three days or the Germans would break the line of our armies and march unmolested to Paris, coming up and flanking our own Northern forces. Going to his own Headquarters, the General was handed the note he had written to his distinguished chief of operations, Captain Phil Roosevelt. It simply stated that if he did not return by eight o’clock that morning to notify Brereton to take command of the American Aviation at the Front. The distinguished Roosevelt had also been out doing some rough riding so the note had never reached his hands.

This flight of General Mitchell’s needs no comment—it was no less than wonderful, and when the flyers finally heard who had made it, our morale was strengthened one hundred per cent. We felt we had a fighting General sure enough.

The Germans continued their crossing on the sixteenth, sweeping on down toward Epernay on the seventeenth and on the night of the seventeenth it rained. It rained all night; and all night long, passing our headquarters were troops going up to the front; all night long we could hear their continuous tramping; the roads were hydraulically jammed with cannons, ammunition trains, supplies and troops. They were going to Château-Thierry. They were retreating from the south it seemed, but why did they come to this side of the salient? Why not stop the Germans by a frontal defense?

In a few hours we knew why for on the night of the seventeenth, at nine o’clock we received orders from General DeGouttes of the French Army that the French Army, in connection with the First American Army Corps, would attack all the way from Soissons to Château-Thierry in an effort to flank the German advance and would continue at any and all costs until the Germans were forced to withdraw from the salient or face annihilation.

The attack was to start at daybreak on the following morning. Then I heard of Mitchell’s flight and information. His recommendations had been concurred in by Marshal Foch and General Pershing. There was some activity in our headquarters. We got hold of our squadron and balloon commanders and ordered them to report immediately. By the time they all got there it was eleven thirty at night. Harwood was still up at the line where he had been all day in liaison with the line units. Brereton was over in conference with the Corps Commander, General Liggett. Lieutenant Mathis was busy getting out the necessary maps, so, I took the orders for the battle and, like a young Napoleon, I told the whole story and made the aërial dispositions for the first day. Fortunately the squadron and balloon units had already been assigned to the various line units and had made some arrangements. Of course, the suddenness of the attack, and the short time we had been there, had caused many details to be incomplete. I told them that they would still have to go up to the lines that night and see the units to which they were assigned in order to be on the job at daybreak. This was absolutely necessary and yet it did not seem that they could possibly be able to get there due to the roads being packed with the on-marching troops. It was a great question, but it was the only way possible. Ben Harwood, our liaison officer, saved the day, for he came in just as I was about to dismiss them. Ben had shown his natural initiative and resourcefulness, and had already been to every American unit. He had gotten the big news while still at the front lines and had, very fortunately, obtained all the necessary liaison information. Harwood took over the meeting, explained everything he had learned from the line units, and by one-thirty o’clock all the squadron and balloon commanders were on their way back to their organizations to get out the necessary orders and to see that the planes were at the lines at zero hour.

The rain stopped just before daybreak. It seemed that even the heavens were effecting a close, immediate and personal liaison with us, as Harwood would say. When the barrage lifted and the boys went over the top in America’s first big effort, they found there to cheer them and to assist them the drone of airplanes, upon the wings of which was painted the American cocarde. It was the real launching of American aviation—it was truly the beginning of the end.

We were tremendously handicapped by the shortage of pilots and observers and during the entire period of the offensive we were unable to get replacements for our casualties. In our office we were taking care of the transmission of every order pertaining to the Air Service, taking care of the aviation movements, issuing of instructions, getting out the necessary reports and information. Our office personnel consisted of Colonel Brereton, Lieutenant Harwood, Lieutenant Mathis and Sergeant “Spike” Marlin, of whom I cannot speak too highly for sticking to the job throughout that prolonged period. The boy was sick at the time, but knowing we had no one else, he stayed right with it and worked on the average of twenty hours a day for two weeks straight. I might incidentally say that all of the rest did the same. In fact, our real activities began when the Germans made their attack on the fifteenth and with our Shortage of personnel it was necessary that some one be on the job day and night. Our losses were terrible. It began to tell on me for I was losing all my dearest friends.

Tired and exhausted under this three days’ strain, in which we had about two hours sleep nightly, on the third day of our own drive, namely, the twentieth of July, at about ten in the morning, it was deemed necessary by the American and French High Commanders that a long distance reconnaissance should be made immediately in order to determine as near as possible the intention of the enemy. The Americans did not have an Army Reconnaissance Squadron at Château-Thierry at the time so the mission came to us for proper action.

I talked it over with Brereton and we agreed that in order to do the mission properly with full justice to every one concerned it would take not less than twenty-five planes and considering the distance of the mission, the time necessary in the air to complete it, and the supremacy of the air held by the Germans, based upon the average of our casualties, we decided we would lose not less than eight of these planes, with a minimum of sixteen officers.

But things were in a very peculiar situation. We had been temporarily stopped and it was necessary to find out whether the Germans intended to make a firm stand or whether their stand was only temporary, in order to give them time to withdraw their forces from the south. When we came to our decision we consulted the high command, telling them the number of planes it would take and what our minimum losses would be. We impressed upon them our already heavy casualties and how short we were of airplanes. The answer was that the importance of the mission would justify all losses should the desired information be gained.