It is customary to cut the motor at the top or a little beyond, but I cut too soon for the first two loops, but it made no difference. At the top, as I was doing some very tight loops, not knowing how much strain the machine would stand, centrifugal force did not quite hold me in, though I held myself there by a very tight grasp on the stick. Of course, I had a belt on too, as a precaution, but it is not necessary. After five or six of these, to get the hang of it, I tried rolling, which is sort of turning upside down and then right side up again while going somewhat straight ahead. It is awfully peculiar, and I couldn’t seem to get the hang of it at first, but ended up in a tail-spin which is simply diving straight and revolving rapidly. This last is the most dangerous stunt, as the machine is almost entirely out of control. It is a great strain on the machine. Well, I would cut the motor and get out of this, usually not until I had dropped 600 or 700 feet, and kept trying until I got into a fairly respectable roll. These machines, being large and two-seaters, of course don’t roll very well anyway.
Then I did a few tumbler air turns, getting into a tail spin the first few times. It seems everything ends up in a tail-spin, if not done correctly. Following these I just mixed up stalls, side-slides, loops, etc., for a while and wasn’t flying straight a quarter of a mile. Well, as I say, I was getting cold and a bit sick, so I came down, tried a few landings, and came in. It was the best flight I ever had, Dad, and I certainly enjoyed it.
Sunday, December 30, 1917. Rather punk day but I got up with [Cloete] and found I was rotten at turns. Learnt turn and also side slips and landing cross wind. Then tried it alone and learnt a lot. Feeling a bit low so sat around all afternoon as there was no flying. Two more pupils have come here.
Monday, December 31, 1917. Hell of a day. Late getting up so missed almost all breakfast. Went to Portsmouth and bought chocolate and waffles. Then hurried back for lunch as it cleared a bit. Took up my machine at about 2:20. Very foggy, also heavy clouds at 1,500 feet. Kept getting worse, almost hit several other machines, no fun so I came in soon. Ken landing behind another machine smashed wing skid. The new bunch of pupils have arrived, so mess is full again. Also USA men have arrived, none are officers yet, none have flown. Received four French learning books from Mrs. Burton, also letter from Di. No mail or packages from home yet. Shorty not having heard from his girl is wild. Ken got a lot of mail also from Priscilla.
January 1, 1918. Rotten day—no flying in morning—cold. After lunch cleared up and flying. At 2,300 feet clouds 400 feet thick going through nice and clean—most wonderful sight imaginable. I stayed till cold— . . . and stunting. Under clouds very foggy and rough. Lately I’ve been practicing forced landings, shutting the motor off at about 1,000 feet and then picking a field and landing in it. I find you can land almost anywhere without trouble. Big day, first mail three months. Dad, Ma, and Kate. 35 minutes in Avro.
January 2, 1918. Avro: 85 [minutes], 35 in morning, 50 after lunch we forced landings. Shutting off at 1,000 feet and picking fields and landing. Received letter from Dad dated November 8.
January 3, 1918. Avro: 45 [minutes]. Another perfect day. Rose 7:00 and practiced landings an hour. You can land almost anywhere, but this morning I found the other place. Was side slipping down, felt something catch, feeling heavy drag and ailerons busted. Landed, just missing deep ditch. Found had carried away five telephone wires, all still hanging on front. Aileron wire underneath torn away. Cloete came for me and had a laugh. The instructors keep a good eye on their pupils. He’d brought me a mechanic and flew me home with him. Later had flight then walked to Portsmouth with Ken and Shorty and back. Arranged to have gunnery any day. And so we carried on. Flying if you could see through the fog across the field, and shooting clay pigeons or reading and eating otherwise.
[Gosport] January 3, 1918
Dear Dad:
Yesterday I received a letter written by you on Nov. 8th just after you had been to Fort Sherman but I don’t think that temptation there could hold a candle to what it is here.169 However, I am taking the best possible care of myself, not only because of the moral side of the question, but also because of the terrible effects, which latter has been brought home to me by the pitiful condition of several of the men directly under me. As the main trouble with my receiving mail is due to the absolute inefficiency of the postal department headquarters in Paris I have decided to accept Ken’s suggestion having my mail sent through a bank here of which his aunt is president or manager. So if you will please address letters in the future and packages to Ensign D. S. Ingalls, U.S.N.R.F., care of Carson Pirie Scott et cie, 42 Faubourgh Poissioniere, Paris, I hope to get my mail in two weeks as Ken does.170
For the last three days I have been having lots of flying, and so also lots of fun. The first day was very cloudy but after getting up to about 3,000 feet I was above the clouds in the sunlight and, Dad, it was by far the most beautiful sight I have ever seen. It was quite warm and the huge billows of clouds below covered the entire horizon, and seemed to offer a big feather bed to light on. The clouds were of course sort of uneven, tremendous mountains with valleys in between. Every now and then machines would sort of rise out of the clouds and the sun would stream on the wings. Yesterday was very clear and I learned a lot about vertical turns. These men come back from the front to this school, where flying is taught scientifically and perfectly and are absolutely overwhelmed by the amount they do not know. Practically no one who has not been here can make a perfect turn.
Today I had my first smash, fortunately a minor one. I was practicing landings, the damn foolishness of myself is awful, small fields, cutting my motor as if it had quit on me, and picking a field and landing, when I caught seven or eight telephone wires. I had not seen them nor had any idea what I hit, but my ailerons failed to work so I kept on and landed, almost in a ditch. Well, after landing on the brink of said ditch I climbed out and found the control wire running to the bottom of the lower wing carried away, otherwise everything OK. As I couldn’t fix it I kicked myself around the field for about ten minutes when my flight commander, who had been told of a machine down, landed, left a mechanic, and took me home. Since then I have been having my leg pulled as the English say. Well, as you used to say when I smashed up an auto, it is a good thing so long as nobody is hurt, as you have the experience. I certainly will try to keep my eyes open.
But yesterday Shorty Smith almost ended his career and taught us all a good lesson. He went out and upon getting to about 2,500 feet looped. The strap to hold you in the front seat had been left lying on the seat loosely fastened, and when upside down with the stick pulled way back, the strap swung around and over the stick, holding it way back. This of course held the elevators way up so the machine started on a second loop with Shorty pushing for all he was worth. As he had cut the motor the machine merely pointed straight up, stalled, tail-slipped, dove down, then started up again. Fortunately his ailerons and rudder would still work. After stalling, it would of course dive several hundred feet before gaining enough speed to pull him up again. After coming down by the above process to about one hundred feet Shorty was a bit worried, but being a plucky little devil he didn’t lose his head. Just as he started to go up to stall, here he saw he would, in the ensuing dive, hit the ground head on, so he cleverly side-slipped by using the ailerons and everything just happening to work out fortunately he pulled it out of the tail-slide a few feet before crashing and landed all right with only a wing slightly damaged and the aileron wing slightly broken.
He says he thought an awful lot on the way down, as it took quite some time, but he always had the hope of leveling off just as he hit. He says he didn’t think of side-slipping till he saw he’d lose out if he didn’t do something when he leveled off at about 180 feet. He says his brain was in good condition then. That taught us to look out for anything that would catch the stick and proves that one has wonderful control in pretty adverse conditions. Even my being able to land trailing seven or eight telephone wires after a hard shock shows that it takes a hard bump to bust anything. Well, Dad, try this new address for awhile, will you, Aff yours, Dave
P.S. Please tell mother to send some of that chocolate. D.S.I.
January 4, 1918. 30 Avro, heavy mist @ 300, had gunnery @ 8:00, Lewis and Vickers, short flight, very jerky. Coming in wind caught me from