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We must turn then to Guynemer's letters strange letters, indeed, which contain nothing, absolutely nothing about the war, or the battle of the Somme, or about anything else except his war and his battle. The earth-world no longer existed for him: the earth was a place which received the dead and the vanquished. Some sport: the 17, attacked a Fritz, three shots and gun jammed; Fritz tumbled.
Guynemer's family has confided to me his letters, his notebooks of flights, and many precious stories of his childhood, his youth, and his victories. I have seen him in camps, like the Cid Campeador, who made "the swarm of singing victories fly, with wings outspread, above his tents."
"Oh, yes, the dog always manages to get what he wants," Guynemer's father had once said to him with a sad smile, when Georges, regardless of his two previous failures, insisted at Biarritz upon enlisting. "The dog? what dog?" Guynemer had answered, not seeing an apologue in his father's words. "The dog waiting at the door till somebody lets him in.
Each one shared in his victories, and all have written his name among their own dead. Guynemer's glory, to have so ravished the minds of children, must have been both simple and perfect, and as his biographer I cannot dream of equaling the young Paul Bailly. But I shall not take his hero from him.
The 11th Company of the 82d Regiment of Infantry took its station opposite the imposing row of squadron machines, sixty in number, which stood there like race horses as if to take part in the fête. Guynemer's well-known airplane, the Vieux-Charles, was the fifth to the left, its master having required its presence, though it had been injured that very day.
His magic airplane was still at the works, where he had complained of not having another in reserve; and not being able to wait for it, he sent for his old machine and immediately attacked a D.F.W. at close quarters, as usual; but the Boche was saved by the jamming of both of Guynemer's guns, and the aviator had to get back to his landing-ground.
As a painter grinds his colors before making use of them, so Guynemer's prelude to his future flights was to touch with his hands those long white hands of the rich student, now tanned and callous, often coated with soot or grease, and worthy to be the hands of a laborer every piece, every bolt and screw of these machines which were to release him from his voluntary servitude.
Facing the enemy and shooting directly at him, whether upwards or downwards, was Guynemer's method; but it is not easy on account of the varying speeds of the two machines, and because the pilot as well as the passenger is sheltered by the engine. So it is best to get behind and a little lower than the tail of the enemy plane.
On September 29, and October 1, 1915, he was sent on special missions. These special missions were generally confided to Védrines, who had accomplished seven. The time is not yet ripe for a revelation of their details, but they were particularly dangerous, for it was necessary to land in occupied territory and return. Guynemer's first mission required three hours' flying.
This victory of July 28, 1916, on the Somme, was Guynemer's eleventh; and at that time he had flown altogether 348 hours, 25 minutes. This journal of fifty pages enables us to measure the distance covered. Impassioned young people! You who in every department of achievement desire to win the trophies of a Guynemer, never forget that your progress on the path to glory begins with "doing chores."
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