Friday.—Mr. Gardiner left for Meheriq, and said he would come and pick one of us up. After he went we tried to get the machine going, and succeeded in flying for about twenty-five minutes. Engine then gave out. We tinkered engine up again, succeeded in flying about five miles next day (Saturday), but engine ran short of petrol.
Sunday.—After trying to get engine started, but could not manage it owing to weakness—water running short, only half a bottle—Mr. Ridley suggested walking up to the hills. Six P.M. (Sunday): Found it was farther than we thought; got there eventually; very done up. No luck. Walked back; hardly any water—about a spoonful. Mr. Ridley shot himself at ten-thirty on Sunday whilst my back was turned. No water all day; don't know how to go on; got one Verey light; dozed all day, feeling very weak; wish someone would come; cannot last much longer.
Monday.—Thought of water in compass, got half bottle; seems to be some kind of spirit. Can last another day. Fired Lewis gun, about four rounds; shall fire my Verey light to-night; last hope without machine comes. Could last days if I had water.
The captain of the Imperial Camel Corps, with which the aviators were co-operating, formed the opinion that Lieutenant Ridley shot himself in the hope of saving the mechanic, the water they had being insufficient to last the two of them till help arrived. The Commanding Officer of the R. F. C. states: "There is no doubt in my mind that he performed this act of self-sacrifice in the hope of saving the other man."
The history of the R. F. C. is a short one, but it is already full of glorious deeds.
HOW SWEENY, OF THE FOREIGN LEGION, GOT HIS "HOT DOGS"
Told by Private John Joseph Casey of the Foreign Legion
I—STORY OF AN AMERICAN "WEST-POINTER"
Lieut. Charles Sweeny, of the French Foreign Legion, returned to New York to recover from a wound received during the French offensive in Champagne. Sweeny is an American, a graduate of West Point, and the son of a former president of the Federal Smelting and Refining Co., of Spokane, Wash. The following story, of a most unusual "Dutch treat," was told by Lieut. Sweeny to Private Casey, a New York artist, also fighting in the Foreign Legion, to the New York World.
You have read of the cordial exchanges of tobacco and tidbits between the men of the North and the South, who were facing each other as deadly foes in the rifle pits during the Civil War. These exchanges (the amicable ones, of course) were quaint and peculiar enough between those avowed enemies, even though both were of the same blood and spoke the same tongue. But the one which now interests us took place during the present war, between Lieut. Charlie Sweeny of the French Foreign Legion, and the Germans in the adjacent trenches; by which exchange the Germans got nothing, and Sweeny got a feast of "hot dogs!"