Over the body was worn a one-piece flying suit of waterproof, airproof material, reaching from throat to feet, buttoned tightly at wrists and ankles, and lined throughout with fur. Through these suits, between the fur and the outer coverings, were placed wire cables terminating in snap-fasteners at neck, wrists, and ankles, to which could be attached silk-covered wires leading to other electrical heating units in the helmets, gloves, and moccasins, all of which were warmed by a current drawn from the generator on the engine. Hence, though our aviators not infrequently flew in a temperature of thirty degrees below zero, they were as warm and comfortable as though they were sitting before a log fire at home—much more comfortable, in fact, than were their relatives and friends in America on the fireless Sundays which made uncomfortable the first winter of the war. On his hands the aviator wore, in addition to the electrically heated gloves, a pair of muskrat gauntlets extending nearly to the elbow; on his feet, over the electrically heated moccasins, another pair of moccasins, lined with sheepswool, reaching almost to the knees. It is scarcely necessary to add that our air-fighters spent more time in dressing than does a chorus-girl in a comic opera, and that when they were dressed they looked like a cross between an Arctic explorer and a deep-sea diver. The question of obtaining the fur for lining this clothing presented a perplexing problem, for there were required vast quantities of pelts or skins of extreme warmth and sufficiently strong to withstand rough usage, but not too bulky or heavy. After considerable investigation it was found that these requirements were met by the skin of the Nuchwang dog, which inhabits one of the provinces of north China, though I have no doubt that sable or ermine would have answered the purpose equally well had cost been no consideration. The demands of the American Air Service required practically all of these skins that could be had in China and necessitated the lifting of an embargo to bring them into the United States, which, thanks to the co-operation of the War Trade Board, was obtained. The last purchase before the Armistice was signed called for 500,000 of these dog-skins. A strange thing, was it not, that the lust for power of one William Hohenzollern, late of Berlin and Potsdam, should bring about, among countless other things, the slaughter of half a million dogs in far-off China? Though figures are, as a rule, dry things, the magnitude of the Air Service’s clothing problem can be better appreciated by my giving a few of them. The work in hand for air-clothing when the Armistice was signed involved upward of $5,000,000. Fifty thousand fur-lined flying suits at $36.25; over a 100,000 leather helmets at $4.50; a like number of leather coats at prices ranging from $10 to $30, and 80,000 goggles at $3.50 a pair reflect the major items