David was not sure that the idea would get across, but it did. The clever sketches traveled around the great table, and with the laughter they called forth the stiff decorum of the meal lightened into a more free and friendly atmosphere.
Helping each other as best they could, with gestures and drawings, David managed to tell the group of young aviators about him many things concerning aviation in America that they were very anxious to know.
The luncheon lasted far into the afternoon. The ceremonies attending the presentation of the medals were long and dignified. When the big, glittering, bejeweled bauble had been pinned on Mr. Hammond’s coat, with many suave and pleasant words from the donors, and when Mr. Hammond had replied with thanks and prophecies for the welding of nations through aviation, David felt his muscles tighten. Now he would get a medal pinned on him, but he wouldn’t have to speak. He hadn’t spoken in Friedrichshafen, so why here? When his name was spoken, he went to the head of the table, where he stood facing the highest ranking officer of the aviation corps in Japan. David stood very straight and stiff, his broad shoulders squared, his head high. He was very handsome—and exceedingly embarrassed.
The general, medal in hand, began to speak, slowly, so the interpreter could keep pace with him. To David’s consternation, the general referred to David’s youth and to the fact that he had taken over the ship in the teeth of a hurricane, and had brought her to safety. He congratulated aviation and America on possessing such a fine young pilot. David felt his very ears growing red. Then the medal was pinned on his breast, and behold, it was the twin of Mr. Hammond’s.
Released at last, David somehow gained his seat, and dropped into it. He looked at Mr. Hammond. That gentleman was signaling him to get up. David drew a long shuddering breath as he rose.
“Oh, my Lord!” he breathed, and with his voice croaking with fright he launched into his first public speech.
“Your Excellencies, and gentlemen,” he commenced: “I don’t know how to thank you for your kindness. I really don’t deserve it. The Moonbeam is so staunch that she could just about take care of herself. She’s a wonderful ship, and I hope you will soon have one like her.”
“Banzai! Banzai!” cried the Japanese.
“This is a wonderful experience, being here, and I hope it will not be my last flight to Japan,” David continued. “You are all so kind. I only hope that many of you, indeed all of you, will come to America as soon as you can so that we may have the opportunity of returning, at least in part, your many courtesies. We will show you our landing fields. They are very large, most of them, but we have nothing as beautiful as Kasumigaura.
“I thank you again for the honor you have shown me.”