“My first trip up was this afternoon with Victor Carlstrom. We were out 16 minutes and climbed 3,500 feet. It was all very simple getting up there--a little wind and noise and some bumps and pockets in the air--a glorious view of the Harbor. Then we started to come down. First, I saw the earth directly below through the planes on the left. Then the horizon made a sudden wild lurch and Newport News appeared directly below on my right. This continued for a little while and then we started down at an angle of about 30 degrees to the perpendicular, turning as we went. I later learned that Carlstrom had executed a few steep banks or sharp turns and then spiralled down. It ended with a very pretty landing, following with a series of banks to check speed. Flying from my first impression is a very fascinating game and the one I want to stay with for a while. I have signed up for 100 minutes in the air. While this hundred minutes will not make me a flier by any means I think it is well worth the while in that it gives me a little element of certainty in going abroad. I will know if all goes well that I am not unable to fly.” The next day he wrote: “Two flights this morning, 25 minutes _in toto_. The greatest sport I ever had. Wonderful work. I did most of the work after we got up a safe distance.” Having obtained a certificate of 100 minutes flight and passed the necessary physical examinations, he left for France, arriving at Bordeaux May 31, and soon reported at Avord for training. STUART WALCOTT’S LETTERS I AVORD, July 4, 1917. Dear H----: ... My work here is going well, although slowly. Those in my class ought to get out by October if nothing goes wrong. There are some 150 Americans learning to fly now in France, besides the ones the Government may have sent over--more than a hundred at this one school, and the oddest combination I’ve ever been thrown with: chauffeurs, second-story men, ex-college athletes, racing drivers, salesmen, young bums of leisure, a colored prize fighter, ex-Foreign Légionnaires, ball players, millionaires and tramps. Not too good a crowd according to most standards, but the worst bums may make the best aviators. There’s plenty of need for all of them.