Tom had therefore gone abroad as a direct representative of the three companies under my management, Hamilton-Standard, Sikorsky Aviation, and Chance Vought Aircraft. Vought, of course, had nothing to offer at the moment. Upon arrival in Europe, Tom set up headquarters in Paris and laid the groundwork for his business. As a Yankee peddler, Tom displayed all the initiative and enterprise that characterized the American in a foreign land, but combined it with a rare knack of adapting himself to the customs of the country. In character and outward appearance he became quite continental. He set himself up in the George V Hotel in Paris, showed an aptitude for meeting and impressing the right people, and gave to his business entertainment the personal touch of a naturally warm-hearted individual. He exuded the confidence in American products that derived from deep conviction born of intimate knowledge of aircraft production and aeronautical engineering, and undertook the apparently hopeless task of penetrating the European market because he was certain that American production techniques could compete against European cheap hand labor. He had seen the automotive industry succeed in penetrating foreign trade barriers to the benefit of both American industry and American labor, and was confident American aviation could duplicate the feat. He had not done too well with our propeller license—it took Raycroft Walsh and the controllable-pitch propeller to turn that trick—and when Fred Rentschler visited Europe after a year or so, Tom had to put on his best selling vest to keep Fred from closing out the office. Tom finally won out by suggesting that he give up his salary and continue on a commission basis. In the interim between the long Armistice and Hitler’s renewal of the World War, commercial air transport flourished on the Continent. International competition was reminiscent of the earlier struggle for control of the sea; one nation relied on private initiative, the other sought to capitalize air commerce through government ownership. Earlier in the struggle for sea power, Britain had defeated France through private enterprise. France, under the brilliant Colbert, had staked everything on government support of monopolistic trade associations or guilds. When, finally, Colbert had called in the industrialists to ask what more he might do to help them, they had responded in unison, “_Laissez nous faire!_” (Leave us alone).