The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1916-06-09

where the nightingale abounds, it is 8 close race between them to bed at dusk and to the fields at dawn.
 The nightingales were rioting in song this morning when the pilots of the F'ranco-American Flying Corps were making their way to the aviation camp and daylight had just peeped over the horizon when Captain H-. commander of the group, ordered: Bring out the machines!'
 There was nothing new in this to the seven American pilots who have been flying in different groups on diff ferent parts of the front for upwards of a year. All of them had been out with the nightingale a few hundred mornings, but it announced their first expedition together as a separate unit of the French aviation corps over German territory.
 Long-pIaned machines resembling small sheds, and short-winged ma chine which in comparison dwind1ed to the proportions of devil flies, rolled on the field and were pushed on the run to their places until twenty eight were lined up. Captain H. gazed at the 1ow-lying clouds ds-excellent
 mask for a f1oti1la, crossing the enc mys 1ines-and ordered: 'HTe1l the Americans to be ready" The, Anaeri- cans, grouped behind their swift chas- CTS, listened to final instructions from
 
 Franco-Ame erican flotilla and is proud of it. The din was then too great for verbal orders to be heard, and sol dier with a; white signal flag ran into the field while pilots and machine gunners Ieaped to their seats. The flag was raised while the motors bug zed like a swarm of gigantic humble bees The. flag dropped and Captain H---'s big bip1ane rose to lead the column. The flag was raised and dropped at intervals of about thirty seconds, and each time. a pair of the | bigger machines followed until nine teen of them were filing toward the German lines.
 The big ma chimes were gone but the noise increased as the propel1ers of | the smaller but more powerful and | swifter biplanes were set in motion. It was time for the Americans l specialists in speed. The first big ] plane was approaching the clouds when, with a bound, Captain T. 1 rose; then followed Lieutenant De- 1aage of the French Corps. Lieutenant William Thaw, Pittsburg; Sergeant 1 Elliot Cowdin, and Corporal Victor 1 Chapman, New York; Sergeant Nor i man Prince. Prides Crossing, Mass /; 1 Corporal Kiffen Rockwell, Atlanta, Ga; Corporal J. M. Mcconnell. Car thage, N. C.; and Sergeant Hall, Gal 1 weston, Tex.
 1 These little bip1anes with powerful motors are the fruits of the evolution ] of aviation during the war-bui1t tc match the German machines in speed 1 carrying only the pilot, machine
 gun and the minimum requirement. 1T
 fuel. Instead of rising gradually like
 their predecessors, the bound upward
 with an ascensiona1 power heretofor'
 unattained. They are dangerou
 in a fight that the pilot has to go int
 the adversary's territory to hunt al
 engageme That was what the Am
 ericans especially chosen for thes
 machines were to do.
 There were nine of these, togethe
 with nineteen of the big bombardin
 bip1anes, in sight together for an in | stant; then the head of the line disap peared in the clouds. The hunters, l as the speedy machines are called overhauIed the last of the bigger flieI and went out of sight ahead of then while Thaw's stIris'' and Captain T. Tram the two pet dogs of the carnl were still barking after them. Even the soldiers habituated to thi l. spectacle for nearly two years neve tire of it. They watch the last ma chine until it is out of sight, then tur back without comment to the shed to await the return. The silence an solemnfty of the camp after the bust of the departure was depressing. Tn TO soldiers of the camp knew ths some of those brave boys might missing when the roll was cal1e again.
 \ Time passes with marvellous rapi6 ity on fighting expeditions. aviator A say, but the two hours maximum wa ! in camp to see if they all get ,bac \ is always long. Watches are out a. Al ter ninety minutes and eyes are turr ed in the direction taken by the flier | At the ninety-ninth minute, perhap
 a speck appears high above the hor I zon.
 | There they come,' is the word tn; \ passes around the camp a.Sl ever. \ one is on the field. Its a chaser \ says one. Number two is bombal ! der," Says another. In a few minute E I twenty-seven specks are counted; the & there is another wait and voices al 2 l hushed. A tfhunter'' circles aroun N the cam, dives downward at dizz * pace, skins along the field withol Fl slowing up,r until braking against tt 2 wind it comes to a. thrilling stop.
 The faster machines, last away, al E first back, for the fuel supply wit N them is som etiEnes a close fit and nt
 a second is to be lost. Seven chaser
 land at the same breakneck pace, an
 with the same precision.
 The eighth seems to f1utter as # approaches, tips and dives fitfu11 + Field glasses are level1ed at him. ''He N had his tail piece carried away erie Fl one. It's Thaw,' says another, t'an A there's som mething wrong with his pro Fl pe11er.'' Alternately rearing, divin @ and sliding on it's wing, the machir 1 comes down convu1sive1y like a wounded bird.
 Il He's going to break bit of wood! exclaimed French soldier, expressin
 in characteristic aviation language th prospect of a smash. The machir
 rears again after a dive which too
 it dangerously close to the earth, veel
 around abruptly against the win
 a hundred yards and stops. '"Thaw
 one of the few pilots who could brin
 home a busted machine like that
 1 said a soldier.