TRANSCRIBED FROM THE ARKANSAS DEMOCRAT AUGUST 1, 1918 P. 5
Dearest Aunt Blanche:
Suppose you are wondering what is happening to the dashing young aviator these days? Well, he’s just about contented as can be these days. Back at the front, in a different branch of the air service since I came back. I made a request and it was granted, for day bombardment work; forsaking the “scout” or pursuit work; forsaking the training on this new machine the last of May and got here in time to get in some good time during the last offensive, which by this time you have all read about, between Montdidier and Noyons.
Am much pleased with the new work. My reason for changing was to broaden my scope of military aviation. In this work one is much more interested as one has a definite object in mind when he sets out and he is actually accomplishing something. While in the forsaken branch you have to go out and patrol and patrol, taking whatever combat comes in the way. This is really a mighty essential branch, but apparently you are accomplishing nothing, which our work accomplishes something definite right on the ground.
You can imagine my first trip over the lines after being away from it so long. Certainly was interesting and seemed awfully natural like I have Fritz’s archies (anti-aircraft guns) breaking around us and the nervous tension you are under while over Fritz’s territory with the continuous alert feeling. Besides seeing the action on the ground with here and there a village or a few houses on fire. During this advance our work has been marked by the low altitude at which we’ve been working. Naturally, Fritz’s “archies” have been much more active and accurate than I’ve been used to; for in “pursuit” we work mostly at great heights.
In my new work I use a much larger machine and carry an observer behind me. Of course we are much slower but we fly in close formation and are so heavily armed we can fight off several times our number of “single-seaters” as long as we keep our formation. You see, our observer mans three guns, commanding sides and rear and above and down through the bottom of the machine, besides my own, shoots wherever I head. I wish you could us flying in enemy territory; really, we are so close together that you couldn’t imagine how we could keep it up without a collision. A great advantage is that if I am wounded and lapse into unconsciousness it doesn’t mean a long fall to death, as in the other, for the observer behind can take command of the machine in a case of that kind and the chances are that you will come down all right.
Our biggest danger, of course, is motor trouble, for if it stops on us we are so far into German ground as a rule that we can’t volplane back home. This, however, is very rare, and personally, I don’t know of a single instant where it has happened.
Well, God only knows when this whole mess is going to be over, but hope it won’t be long, and really believe that the end is about in sight—by that I mean a year’s time. This Hun offensive this year is a failure and reminds me of a tennis ball that’s been thrown into the air and lands with a good sized bounce and gradually peters out in successive bounds until it is dormant. Their first attack in March netted them a rather large gain (but at what cost!) but their offensive since has been graduated down like the tennis ball’s last stage, and will pick them up and hurl them back to their dirty Rhine. So come on American, throw your full strength to the wheel—and let’s go!
NOTES: Leonard Minor Reno was writing to his aunt Mrs. Blanche Rightsell of Little Rock, Arkansas. He was born on September 23, 1897 in Little Rock and died on December 24, 1944 in Provo, Utah. His body was returned to Chicago, Illinois for burial. He went to France February 1917 and enlisted in the French Air services. He was wounded and spent two and one-half months in a French Hospital but was able to return to the air services. He was awarded the Croix de Guerre and the Palms.
TRANSCRIBED BY CAROLYN YANCEY KENT
Dearest Aunt Blanche:
Suppose you are wondering what is happening to the dashing young aviator these days? Well, he’s just about contented as can be these days. Back at the front, in a different branch of the air service since I came back. I made a request and it was granted, for day bombardment work; forsaking the “scout” or pursuit work; forsaking the training on this new machine the last of May and got here in time to get in some good time during the last offensive, which by this time you have all read about, between Montdidier and Noyons.
Am much pleased with the new work. My reason for changing was to broaden my scope of military aviation. In this work one is much more interested as one has a definite object in mind when he sets out and he is actually accomplishing something. While in the forsaken branch you have to go out and patrol and patrol, taking whatever combat comes in the way. This is really a mighty essential branch, but apparently you are accomplishing nothing, which our work accomplishes something definite right on the ground.
You can imagine my first trip over the lines after being away from it so long. Certainly was interesting and seemed awfully natural like I have Fritz’s archies (anti-aircraft guns) breaking around us and the nervous tension you are under while over Fritz’s territory with the continuous alert feeling. Besides seeing the action on the ground with here and there a village or a few houses on fire. During this advance our work has been marked by the low altitude at which we’ve been working. Naturally, Fritz’s “archies” have been much more active and accurate than I’ve been used to; for in “pursuit” we work mostly at great heights.
In my new work I use a much larger machine and carry an observer behind me. Of course we are much slower but we fly in close formation and are so heavily armed we can fight off several times our number of “single-seaters” as long as we keep our formation. You see, our observer mans three guns, commanding sides and rear and above and down through the bottom of the machine, besides my own, shoots wherever I head. I wish you could us flying in enemy territory; really, we are so close together that you couldn’t imagine how we could keep it up without a collision. A great advantage is that if I am wounded and lapse into unconsciousness it doesn’t mean a long fall to death, as in the other, for the observer behind can take command of the machine in a case of that kind and the chances are that you will come down all right.
Our biggest danger, of course, is motor trouble, for if it stops on us we are so far into German ground as a rule that we can’t volplane back home. This, however, is very rare, and personally, I don’t know of a single instant where it has happened.
Well, God only knows when this whole mess is going to be over, but hope it won’t be long, and really believe that the end is about in sight—by that I mean a year’s time. This Hun offensive this year is a failure and reminds me of a tennis ball that’s been thrown into the air and lands with a good sized bounce and gradually peters out in successive bounds until it is dormant. Their first attack in March netted them a rather large gain (but at what cost!) but their offensive since has been graduated down like the tennis ball’s last stage, and will pick them up and hurl them back to their dirty Rhine. So come on American, throw your full strength to the wheel—and let’s go!
NOTES: Leonard Minor Reno was writing to his aunt Mrs. Blanche Rightsell of Little Rock, Arkansas. He was born on September 23, 1897 in Little Rock and died on December 24, 1944 in Provo, Utah. His body was returned to Chicago, Illinois for burial. He went to France February 1917 and enlisted in the French Air services. He was wounded and spent two and one-half months in a French Hospital but was able to return to the air services. He was awarded the Croix de Guerre and the Palms.
TRANSCRIBED BY CAROLYN YANCEY KENT