Chapter V: B. 108-B. 103, May 20, 1915

_Dear Freddy_,—Arrived here at the Front last Tuesday piloting
two _Voisins appareils de bombardement_. On the way we
bombarded observation balloons, railway centers, _poudrières_,
aviation camps and other locations of Boche activity—but not
towns or cities or other localities where the lives of helpless
women and children might be endangered. We are in the section
where all the French advances have lately been made. The
vertical guns of the Boches are particularly annoying to us.
They have got two out of six of the pilots of our Escadrille
since our arrival. One got down within our own lines; the other
fell within the lines of the Boches—whether he was killed or
not we do not know.

(_Eight miles from the German trenches._)

Been here a week and have become quite accustomed to being shot
at. We go out every day and the salutations we get from the
Boches are rapid and continuous when we are over their lines.
The Boches here have more vertical guns to aim at us—more to
the mile of front than anywhere else. There are hundreds of
French aeroplanes grouped here because it is in the twenty
miles north of Arras and south of the English where all the
recent French advances have taken place. Attacks and counter
attacks by day and night, and the bang of artillery in the near
distance never ceases. We often go out at the same time as
the infantry attack behind the artillery fire, the artillery
of both sides banging away at the trenches, batteries and at
us,—the avions in the air. It is a wonderful spectacle and
something frightful as well—until we get used to it!

N. P.

* * * * *

_Paris, September 6, 1915._

_My dear Grandmamma_,—I am in Paris on a few days’ leave and
just had luncheon with a friend who is leaving to-night for
Rome and I have asked him to mail this letter to you on his
arrival.

For the last four months I have been at the front—two months
in the North near Arras during the attacks of May and June.
After that we were stationed for a month near Nancy in the
East. Now we have returned to the north again where there is
increasing activity. I am happy and in the best of health.
I sleep under canvas on a stretcher bed and eat in the shed
of an old farm house near by. I have nothing to complain
of. I like it. There are ten American pilots with us in the
French service and twelve others in training with their
number constantly increasing. Some day soon we will all be
united in one escadrille—an Escadrille Américaine—that is my
fondest ambition. I am devoting all my spare energies to
organizing it and all the American pilots here are giving me
every encouragement and assistance in the work of preliminary
organization. As I have had so much to do in originating and
pushing the plan along, perhaps I shall be second in command.

I would enjoy tremendously a letter. My address now is

Sergeant-Pilote Prince
Escadrille d’Avions Canon
3me Groupe de Bombardement
Secteur Postal 102.

I hope you are in Rome, not in Treviso, which must be _dans la
Zone des Armées_.

Your affectionate grandson,

NORMAN.

* * * * *

_Cⁱᵉ Gˡᵉ Transatlantique, À bord, January 4, 1916._

_My dear Mamma_,—Just a line before the pilot leaves us to tell
you that Freddy and I appreciate your sorrow in having your
two boys go to the war. However, the greater the sorrow, the
greater the joy will be when they return!

Nothing was forgotten. Freddy and I have the same stateroom and
I shall immediately start to make him fit. I tell him that in
order to join the Flying Corps, one cannot weigh more than 75
kilos.

Your most affectionate son,

NORMAN.

* * * * *

_G. D. E. Div. Nieuport Secteur 92A, February 19, 1916._

_Dear Governor_,—Enclosed is a letter from Freddy. Notice that
he says the discipline at Pau is very strict.

I am a schoolboy again. I am training to fly the very fastest
_appareil de chasse_—quite a different instrument from the
_avion canon_ which weighs three times more than these small
chasing _appareils_.

I am busy pushing matters, in regard to the formation of the
Escadrille Américaine. There is a possibility that St.-Saveur,
now a captain in the aviation, may command us. Although but a
short time on the front he has done finely as a pilot. We are
all _disponible_ to go to the front and are only waiting for
a captain, the personnel—(chauffeurs, secretary, cook, etc.)
our avions and the motor cars. Orders for our formation will
be issued, I hope, next week. The weather has been very rainy
and windy here for a week, which is to be expected, during the
month of February. We are losing no time, however.

Those Lewis guns, if there is any way of getting hold of a
dozen, would be much appreciated by us here. The more you can
get for us the better, but I realize that it may be impossible
even for you to get hold of any.

How are the horses? Don’t overdo the schooling!

I hope you and Mamma are enjoying Aiken. The main thing is to
care for your health.

With love to Mamma, who, I trust, is not too anxious about
Freddy and me.

Your affectionate son,

NORMAN.

* * * * *

_Esc. N. 124. Secteur 24, June 26, 1916._

_Dear Mamma_,—Oliver Wolcott, who has been cantoned near by
with the American Ambulance, is going home to serve with the
militia and is to take this letter with him.

No news of Freddy this past week. The training is so thorough
at these aviation schools that he risks but little while there.
Probably he won’t get to the front for another month.

Poor Victor Chapman! He had been missing for a week and we knew
there was only a very remote chance that he was a prisoner.
He was of tremendous assistance to me in getting together the
Escadrille. His heart was in it to make ours as good as any on
the front. Victor was as brave as a lion and sometimes he was
almost too courageous,—attacking German machines whenever and
wherever he saw them, regardless of the chances against him. I
have written to Mr. Chapman—a rather difficult letter to write
to a heart-broken father. Victor was killed while attacking
an aeroplane that was coming against Lufberry and me. Another
unaccounted for German came up and brought Victor down while
he was endeavoring to protect us. A glorious death—_face à
l’ennemi_ and for a great cause and to save a friend!

Your affectionate son,

NORMAN.

* * * * *

_Escadrille N. 124, Secteur 24, June 29, 1916._

_Dear Mamma_,—Enclosed is a photograph of Victor Chapman and
myself, taken two days before his death. It is a print of what
is probably the last photograph taken of him. I have sent one
to Mr. Chapman.

We are too busy and short of pilots at our Escadrille to think
of taking a _permission_ at present. _Tout va bien. Bonnes
nouvelles de_ Freddy.

Your affectionate son,

NORMAN.

* * * * *

_July 2, 1916._

_Dear Mamma_,—A few lines to tell you that _tout va bien_. This
letter will be taken over and mailed in New York by an American
Ambulance driver who dined with us last night.

To-day I am _de garde_ all the morning—that is to say, from
dawn to noon. I must be by my avion ready to start as soon
as any Boches are signaled. None have been so far this
morning—worse luck!

Your affectionate son,

NORMAN.

_Esc. 124, Secteur 24._

* * * * *

_Esc. N. 124, Secteur 24, July 6, 1916._

_Dear Governor_,—Enclosed is a letter which speaks of Freddy.
The Escadrille is running well. St.-Saveur lunched at our
_popole_ last week and wished to be remembered to you and
Mamma; de R⸺, who was on our team at Bagatille, was here for
lunch to-day with R⸺; both wish to be remembered; de P⸺ came
last week looking very fit and will write to you shortly.

The aviaphone for my helmet arrived in good shape and I
have lent it to my captain, as I am riding at present a
single-seated aeroplane.

Your affectionate son,

NORMAN.

* * * * *

_Deauville, Sept. 2, 1916._

_Dear Mamma_,—I am down here with friends, passing part of my
_permission_. It is very pleasant and refreshing, the change.
One soon gets enough of Paris in summer and in wartime. Here
no one pays the slightest attention to the war. There are few
_militaires_—mostly _civiles_ from Paris and their _amies_.
Good bathing,—golf in the afternoon—many good-lookers, making
the _plage_ rather good fun.

Freddy is nearly through at Pau. He is now at the acrobacy
school learning to do stunts in the air. It is a part of the
training of a _chasse_ pilot. I gave him some pointers before
he left and told him to do the least possible with the old
machines which are quite out of date and clumsy.

Monday I return to Paris and Tuesday back to the Front, my
eight days _permission_ expiring on that day.

I was fortunate enough to run across a German the other day
who didn’t see me approaching. If you read the _communiqué
aérien_ of the 23d or 24th you will find mention of my
Boche,—“_un avion désemparé est tombé dans la forêt de
Spencourt_.” Undoubtedly they will give me this time the
Médaille Militaire,—the chicest decoration in France. The chief
pleasure of having it will be the satisfaction of having earned
it many times and that my receiving it may please the governor
and you.

_A bientôt_, dear Mamma. Thanks for the socks and the
handkerchiefs.

Most affectionately,

NORMAN.

* * * * *

_Escadrille Américaine, par Luxeuil-les-Bains,
Haute-Saône, September 24, 1916._

_Dear little Mamma_,—I am so afraid you will worry more than
ever when you hear of poor Kiffen Rockwell’s death. I know
how anxious you must be with the two of us over here. Keep
very busy, ride a lot, go out to dinners and get as many other
distractions as possible so that you will not have too much
time to think of us. As far as danger to us goes, we are trying
to take as few chances as possibly consistent with playing the
game.

Everybody tells me that Freddy is showing himself to be an
excellent pilot. Unfortunately he has not yet fully decided
to come with our Escadrille. He would prefer to go to another
which is commanded by St.-Saveur. I dare say he might be
happier if he did not come with us, but _à point de vue_ of
safety it seems to me he would be better off with us. I could
be a lot of assistance to him, telling him all I have learned
this spring hunting Germans, and he would have an excellent
mechanic in Michel, who by the way, has been Rockwell’s
mechanic while waiting for Freddy’s arrival; and further, he
could have my machine to ride, which is the _dernier cri_
in _appareils de chasse_, with two machine guns. He would
otherwise get one as safe, but not so good for knocking down
Boches. He would have only one gun.

Did I write you that I had knocked down another Boche two days
before leaving the Verdun district? I enclose a clipping giving
the _communiqué officiel_, with mention also of my Boche who
fell at Dieppe.

Dear Mamma, I must stop writing now. We are going out to try to
avenge Rockwell. Don’t worry! I am doing my duty as safely as I
know how. With much love to you both,

Most affectionately,

NORMAN.

* * * * *

_To his Mécanicien_

_Cher Michel_,—En cas qu’un accident m’arrive—c’est à dire
que je suis tué, blessé ou que je reste chez les Boches—je
vous prie d’écrire quelques lignes à ces dames, les adresses
desquelles sont écrites sur les enveloppes (ci-incluses).

Dis leur que je t’avais dis d’écrire préférant qu’elles sachent
ce qu’il m’est arrivé plutôt que de rester dans l’angoisse au
sujet de mon sort.

Signe ton nom en mettant que tu avais été mon mécanicien dévoué
depuis mon arrivée sur le front.

Mes effets, papiers, lettres, etc., le tout, il faut mettre de
suite dans mes valises et les remettre personnellement à mon
frère.

Ci-inclus deux chèques comme cadeau en récompense du boullot
que vous et André ont fait si soigneusement sur les appareils
de Bibi et qui m’ont permis à gagner la Médaille Militaire.

Ces chèques sont payables, à ma mort ou dans le cas
que je reste chez les Boches, à défaut de ce que cela
m’arrive—(espérons-le) à la démobilisation de vous deux.

En cas qu’un de vous devient civil avant l’autre, celui devenu
civil prends son chèque et le présente à la Banque—où il sera
payé.

Bonne poignée de main!

NORMAN PRINCE.

_Esc. N 124, par Luxeuil-les-Bains, le 6 Septembre, 1916._

* * * * *

_From his Mécanicien_

_Secteur 16, le 25 Octobre, 1916._

_Monsieur et Madame Prince_:—

Excusez-moi si je suis un peu en retard pour vous donner
quelques détails sur le malheur qui nous frappe en la perte de
Monsieur Norman.

Il m’avait laissé, juste huit jours avant sa chute fatale,
quelques enveloppes avec adresses écrites par sa main pour
que je vous écrive quelques mots ainsi qu’à quelques amis si
quelque chose lui arrivait. Je vous joins du reste la lettre
qui est un véritable souvenir.

Pauvre Monsieur Norman, les boches n’ont pas pu avoir raison de
lui et n’ont pas eu ce plaisir là.

Il a trouvé la mort après tant de combats affrontés, tant de
dangers, et il en est sorti avec les honneurs à son avantage.

Son dernier départ a été le 12 Octobre, avec son avion de
chasse Nieuport monté avec deux mitrailleuses et avec lequel il
avait abattu un boche le 10, deux jours avant: il est parti à 2
heures faire la protection d’un groupe d’avions de bombardement
très en avant dans les lignes ennemies. Il a abattu un avion
de chasse ennemi à 3 hrs. qui venait attaquer le groupe et
lui barrer la route. Comme toujours, faisant son devoir avec
conscience, il a attendu que tous les avions ont repassé les
lignes avant de rentrer lui-même et à la dernière minute il
pense à atterrir dans le champ d’aviation le plus près vu que
la nuit commençait à tomber.

Il était prêt à faire un atterrissage des plus normal, malgré
l’obscurité, quand le malheur a voulu qu’il touche un cable qui
était au bordure du champ, et dont il ne pouvait soupçonner la
présence et son avion est venu s’écraser sur le sol.

Il a été relevé et aussitôt transporté dans un Hôpital sans une
plainte et sans perdre un instant ses sens, causant avec un de
ses camarades d’escadrille.

Il avait deux jambes fracturées, la droite à la cuisse et la
gauche au-dessus la cheville. Il a été opéré aussitôt, non sans
recommander aux docteurs de bien s’assurer de ne pas faire une
jambe plus courte l’une que l’autre, car il faisait beaucoup de
sport.

On lui a arrangé ses deux jambes et tout était fini à minuit.

Le lendemain il causait avec tout le monde et tout faisait
espérer les meilleurs résultats d’une prompte guérison, il
passe une bonne nuit et le matin du 14 à 6 heures est frappé
d’une embolie cérébrale (au moment où personne ne s’y
attendait nullement) et n’a repris connaissance.

Je suis resté jusqu’à ses dernier moments auprès de lui, et je
n’ai pas eu la chance de le voir reprendre ses sens une seconde.

Ce que je puis dire c’est que rien n’a été négligé et qu’il a
été très bien soigné. Il paraissait très heureux.

Il en était à son avion cinq boches abattus officiellement et
en avait quatre autres en réalité mais non confirmés—plus un
ballon captif d’observation qu’il avait attaqué et enflammé:
et les nombreux bombardements du début sur voisin où il était
toujours le premier prêt à partir et des fois le seul qui
allait droit au but.

Malgré tous les dangers parsemés sur sa route et après avoir
pris tant de soins et d’attention il nous est enlevé (il ne
comptait que des amis sincères et dévoués) et juste au moment
où il était arrivé au but: Médaille Militaire, Légion d’Honneur
et Croix de Guerre qu’il avait si noblement gagnées.

C’est une grande perte pour l’armée Française et aussi pour
nous, car il nous rapportait avec son amitié l’honneur du
devoir et la bravoure du bon soldat.

Il a été ramené à Luxeuil, où un service funèbre a été célébré
au milieu de ses amis; il a été accompagné par ses nombreux
camarades avec toutes les honneurs.

Après avoir appris la maladie grave de Monsieur nous sommes
restés quelques jours sans nouvelles causé par le déplacement
de l’escadrille, et nous avons été très heureux, Monsieur
Frédéric et moi, quand il a reçu une cable lui annonçant que
Monsieur Prince allait mieux et que tout danger était écarté.

Á present Monsieur Frédéric est avec nous, et vous pouvez
compter sur moi pour que je fasse tout ce qu’il me sera
possible pour lui, et espérant que l’on aura le bonheur de voir
la signature de la paix en bonne santé, je termine.

Monsieur et Madame, si vous désiriez d’autres renseignements,
je me ferais un devoir de vous les donner, et c’est avec
plaisir que je vous donnerai tous les renseignements possibles.

Recevez, Monsieur et Madame, mes respectueuses salutations.

Votre dévoué serviteur,

MICHEL PLAA PORTE,
_Mécanicien Escadrille,
N. 124, Secteur 16_.

IV

FROM HIS FATHER

Memories of my younger son Norman are so tender and fragrant that his bereaved father may well feel some hesitation in recording them for publication lest they may seem to those who never enjoyed intimate relations with him to have been inspired by absorbing parental pride and affection rather than by less partial and disinterested judgment. If there may be any warrant for this impression it will be readily allowed that the sacrifice of this young life in a great cause and the commingled pride and sorrow occasioned by such a martyrdom furnish adequate occasion for the warmest eulogy. To know Norman well was to love him and admire his fine traits of mind, heart, and soul.

I hardly know when our real companionship began. When he was yet a little boy, just emerging from the nursery, Norman was wise and resourceful beyond his young years. He was always reading and he was persistently inquiring about things worth knowing. His youthful self-reliance is amusingly illustrated by an incident when he was but about eleven years of age. He asked for a private tutor to teach him Latin, and he felt so sure of the kind of an instructor he wanted that he took upon himself the somewhat responsible task of obtaining one without advice or assistance. Having found one willing to accept the position Norman at once proceeded to put him through a preliminary examination to test his professional capacity.

Describing this incident the tutor writes: “Norman came to me for work in Latin when I had no reasonable hours at my disposal for him. At my recommendation he sought the services of another tutor, but he soon came back to me in considerable perturbation. With his quick, incisive, convincing sentences he described Mr. Smith’s inefficiency in Latin, and declared his complete despair of ever getting his tutor over six books of Virgil in two weeks. Not to be caught again by the self-assurance of a tutor, he asked, ‘Can you really read Virgil, Mr. Woodbury, and if so how fast can you read it?’ Determined to keep within the speed limit and not to disappoint him, I said, restrainedly, that I thought I might read ten lines a minute. His eyes glistened with expectancy, but with caution he inquired, ‘Really, Sir? May I time you, Sir?’ With my consent he pulled out a stop-watch, and finding I could slightly better my estimate, he won me over by his irresistible arts of persuasion to give him the hours from seven to eight in the morning and nine to ten in the evening. These were unseasonable hours for so young a lad, but he never failed to be ready for work at the beginning and at the close of the day until his task was completed. Through his vivacity and his cleverness and his unfailing good nature he became very popular with the dozen or more fellows who were tutoring with me that summer. Between him and me there developed a friendship which to me was a source of great enjoyment and has now become a treasured memory.”

This incident serves to show that Norman’s precocity was mitigated by a well-developed sense of humor as well as a playful mischievousness. There was a merry twinkle in his eyes, denoting that he was not always to be taken too seriously in his search for knowledge.

A marked trait of Norman’s early youth was his dashing intrepidity. He began hunting when he was but seven and he never showed a sign of fear. I can see him now in my mind’s eye mounted on his spirited chestnut thoroughbred riding as straight and true as any of the older hunting men. An accident that happened to him and his brother Frederick before they went to school at Groton illustrates the fearlessness of both of them in their childhood. It was a morning appointed for a meet and the rain was falling in torrents, making the riding cross-country more than ordinarily dangerous, so that I deemed it prudent to tell my sons that perhaps it might be better for them not to join us that day. They dearly loved the sport, and I remember how the tears came to the eyes of Norman when he heard my gentle warning, though, as the event proved, he did not take it any too seriously. On my return home that evening I found Norman in the care of a surgeon with a broken thigh, while his brother had a broken collar-bone, the result of fast riding on the slippery turf. Regardless of the dangerous conditions against which they had been warned they had taken not only to hunting but to racing and by accident they had pulled into each other at the finish where both were violently thrown. As they lay stunned on the ground Frederick was the first to gain consciousness and he shortly heard Norman murmuring jokingly, “Fred, I think I’m dead. How do you feel?” Not even this playful disregard of parental counsel operated to check a certain degree of admiration for such an exhibition of calm nerve under painful circumstances. Norman’s interest in hunting and racing witnessed no abatement when he took to aviation, or even after he had experienced some of that stern joy that warriors feel. A post-script to one of his letters from the front in France made the naïve inquiry:

“How did my horse run at the Country Club meeting?”

Another marked feature of Norman’s personality was his gracious and attractive bearing under any and all circumstances. To his quick intelligence and dash he added a courtesy and graciousness of manner that charmed all those with whom he came in contact, whether at home or abroad, at work or at play, in the rough-and-tumble of life or in the drawing room. His _savoir faire_ which seemed his by instinct, gave him a charm that was rare to meet.

About all the notable characteristics that marked Norman’s earlier youth remained with him as he grew older, showing a constantly progressive development. This was particularly the case as to his alert mentality and his remarkable capacity for acquiring knowledge easily and quickly. As a student he could hardly be called exceptionally studious in the sense of being closely attached to his text books, but what he lacked in studious habits he more than made up for by the facility with which he grasped any subject that invited his attention. This accomplishment of his was demonstrated in a gratifying way when he was at Groton preparing for college. He was given an opportunity to join his brother for a year of study abroad, but he asked that he might take his entrance examinations for college before going. The next examinations were only a week or two ahead, and Norman still had another year at Groton before his turn would come in regular course. Having obtained the requisite permission of the Groton and Harvard authorities thus to anticipate his work he underwent the examinations at once, though he was then but 15 years old. He passed them all without a condition and without any uneasy apprehension on his part, apparently.

Having achieved this triumph he went abroad, studying for a time in Germany and at Oxford, subsequently entering Harvard in the sophomore year. At college, as at school, he acquitted himself creditably and was graduated with high honors. He subsequently took the degree of Bachelor of Laws at the Harvard Law School in due course.

It was at this time that he became an enthusiastic devotee of aviation, and when an opening came for him to begin the active practice of the law, he preferred to give his attention to the science and practice of aerial navigation with the Wright brothers and with Starling Burgess at Marblehead. Knowing something of the perils of aviation, particularly during the early stages of its development in this country, and apprehending that its fascinations for Norman might prove more or less perilous, as well as tending to distract his attention from the more serious concerns of life, I sought by every means to dissuade him from giving so much of his attention to it, but his ambition to distinguish himself as an aviator made it difficult for him to pay due heed to my serious counsel, and I subsequently found that he had been experimenting for some time with flying machines in high altitudes under an assumed name in order to escape detection and an undesired notoriety.

Recalling these venturesome incidents in Norman’s early career as an amateur aviator, I sometimes think that perhaps fate had reserved him for the cause to which he finally gave his life and that the character of this service was that for which he had shown such a passionate fondness and aptitude, despite all obstacles and discouragements. Worldly success won by the ordinary plodding methods meant little to him. He aspired to hitch his wagon to a star. He cared nothing for the privileges of wealth, even though they might be within his reach, and he envied no man his success in whatever honorable lines he might elect for himself. His ambition was to achieve something worth while and he gave all his energies to the accomplishment of that purpose.

Considering these predominant traits of Norman’s character, as well as his achievements, I conclude that he could hardly have wished for a nobler fate than that which finally befell him on a battlefield of France.

Speaking for Norman’s mother I would say in her behalf:

“Light sorrows speak—great grief is dumb.”

A mother’s grief for the loss of a dearly beloved son is too deep to find adequate expression in words. Memories of Norman’s tenderly affectionate nature, of his fine character, his charming personality and his unfailing buoyancy and cheerfulness are so real, so vivid, and so abiding that it is difficult to realize that he has gone. Although he has indeed gallantly sacrificed his young life for a cause he dearly loved, his mother cherishes the firm faith that the fine spirit thus displayed by him remains undaunted and unquenched, and that it is still the blessed privilege of those near and dear to him to continue to enjoy this sweet belief.

A further measure of consolation has been found in the many and tender messages of sympathy that have come from near and far, testifying to the warm appreciation of Norman’s rare qualities as they were revealed in his life, and to the general admiration of his heroic self-sacrifice. These messages have helped to comfort and sustain the bereaved family.

FREDERICK HENRY PRINCE.

V

A COMRADE’S TRIBUTE

In a contribution to the _World’s Work_, James R. McConnell, a sergeant-pilot of the original American Escadrille, gave the following graphic description of the engagement in which his comrade Prince lost his life. It is a pathetic circumstance that but a short time after he had written this tribute, Sergeant McConnell himself met the same fate as that which befell his American comrade, his dead body having been found within the German lines where he had fallen in an aerial combat with the enemy.

“On the 12th of October, twenty small aeroplanes flying in a
‘V’ formation, at such height that they resembled a flock of
geese, crossed the Rhine River, where it skirts the plains of
Alsace, and, turning north, headed for the famous Mauser works
at Oberndorf. Following in their wake was an equal number of
larger machines, and above these darted and circled swift
fighting ’planes. The first group of aircraft was followed by
British pilots, the second by French, and four of the battle
’planes were from the American Escadrille. They were piloted
respectively by Lieut. de Laage, Lufberry, Norman Prince and
Masson. The Germans were taken by surprise, and as a result few
of their machines were in the air. The bombardment fleet was
attacked, however, and six of our ’planes were shot down, some
of them falling in flames. As the full capacity of a Nieuport
machine allows but a little more than two hours in the air the
_avions de chasse_ were forced to return to their own lines
to take on more gasoline. The Nieuports having refilled their
tanks, went up to clear the air of any German machines that
might be hovering in wait for the returning raiders. Prince
found one, and promptly shot it down. Lufberry came upon three
and he promptly disposed of them.

“Darkness was rapidly coming on, but Prince and Lufberry
remained in the air to protect the bombarding fleet. Just at
nightfall, Lufberry made for a small aviation field near the
lines, known as Corcieux. Slow-moving machines, with great
planing capacity, can be landed in the dark, but to try to
feel for the ground in a Nieuport, which comes down at about
a hundred miles an hour, usually means disaster. Ten minutes
after Lufberry landed, Prince decided to make for the landing
field. He spiraled down through the night air and skimmed
rapidly over the trees bordering the Corcieux field. In the
dark he did not see a high-tension electric cable that was
stretched just above the tree tops. The landing gear of his
airplane struck it. The machine snapped forward and hit the
ground on its nose. It turned over and over. The belt holding
Prince broke, and he was thrown far from the wrecked ’plane.
Both of his legs were broken and he suffered other injuries.
Despite the terrific shock and intense pain, Prince did not
lose consciousness for a time. He even kept his presence of
mind, and gave orders to the men who had run to pick him up.
Hearing the hum of a motor, and realizing that a machine was
in the air, Prince told them to light fires on the field. ‘You
don’t want another fellow to come down and break himself up the
way I’ve done,’ he said.

“Lufberry went with Prince to the hospital in Gerardmer. As
the ambulance rolled along Prince sang to keep up his spirits.
He spoke of getting well soon and returning to service. It
was like Norman. He was always joyous and energetic about his
flying. Even when he passed through the harrowing experience
of having a wing shattered, the first thing he did on landing
was to busy himself about getting another fitted in place. No
one thought Prince was mortally injured in the accident, but
the next day he went into a coma; a blood clot had formed on
his brain. Captain Haaf, in command of the aviation groups of
Luxeuil, accompanied by our officers, hastened to Gerardmer.
Prince, lying unconscious on his bed, was named a second
lieutenant and was then and there decorated with the Legion of
Honor. He already held the Médaille Militaire and the Croix de
Guerre.

“Norman Prince died on the 15th of October. His body was
brought back to Luxeuil and he was given a funeral similar to
Rockwell’s. It was hard to realize that poor Norman had gone.
He was the founder of the American Escadrille, and every one in
it had come to rely on him for inspiration. He never let his
spirits drop, and he was always on hand with encouragement for
others. I do not think Prince minded going. He wanted to do his
part before being killed and he had more than done it. He had,
day after day, freed the line of Germans, making it impossible
for them to do their work, and five of them he had shot to
death.

“Two days after Prince’s death, the Escadrille received orders
to leave for the Somme. The night before the departure, the
British gave the American pilots a farewell banquet and toasted
them as their guardian angels. They keenly appreciated the
fact that four men from the American Escadrille had brought
down many Germans, and had cleared the way for their squadron
returning from Oberndorf. The Escadrille passed through Paris
on its way to the Somme front. The few members who had machines
flew from Luxeuil to their new post. At Paris the pilots were
reënforced by three other Americans, among whom was Frederick
H. Prince, Jr., who had completed his training and had come
over to serve in aviation with his brother Norman.”

VI

HIS BROTHER’S SERVICE

It was the proud privilege of both the Prince brothers to give their active services to France on the battle fronts. Having passed their boyhood and early youth together, performing the same tasks and enjoying the same recreations, Frederick and Norman developed similar ambitions and aptitudes, particularly in their more strenuous activities. Moreover, they had obtained in part their early education in France, and the call to the French colors at the outbreak of the war appealed almost as strongly to them as to the patriotic Frenchmen. Norman’s early experience as an aviator at home and abroad gave him a temporary advantage over Frederick in that he already had the preliminary training for service in the aviation corps in which both desired to enlist. He was consequently first of the two to realize his heart’s desire and to take the oath of allegiance to France and her cause. It was with pardonable hesitation that permission was subsequently given by his parents to their only other son to join Norman in the perilous aviation service but it was freely given, with an appeal for God’s blessing, and Frederick sailed for France with Norman on the latter’s return from his Christmas furlough at home in 1915. He underwent the rigorous training at the Pau aviation school and began his active service at the front in the late summer, flying at first with the intrepid Captain Guynemer, at the latter’s invitation, and subsequently joining the Lafayette Squadron on the western front. He won the high esteem of his comrades for his courage and manly bearing, performing his duty with joyous enthusiasm and taking active part in twenty-two aerial engagements during the ensuing five months. When Norman fell at Luxeuil, it was a trying moment to Frederick, who had lost his only brother and the companion of his lifetime, but he promptly offered his services to France in his brother’s place and he fought with the Lafayette Escadrille until he came home on a short furlough. He subsequently returned to France to rejoin his Squadron with courage undaunted, and with unflagging faith in the ultimate triumph of the cause he loved and for which he was proud to be actively enlisted.

VII

FROM THE FRENCH ENVOYS

On the occasion of the reception given by the Commonwealth of Massachusetts and the City of Boston to the French Envoys who came to this country in an official capacity, the patriotic devotion and sacrifice of Norman Prince were gracefully alluded to by the Envoys who included in their number M. René Viviani, Minister of Justice, Marshal Joffre, Vice-Admiral Chocheprat and the Marquis de Chambrun, Deputy, and descendant of Lafayette. At the lunch in Faneuil Hall, given by the City of Boston, Vice-Admiral Chocheprat, in his reply to the Mayor’s address of welcome, paid a touching tribute to “Mr. Frederick H. Prince’s son Norman, the gallant young aviator who sacrificed his life for France, and the cause of the Allies.” Thereupon Marshal Joffre arose from his seat at the table and placing his hand over his heart made a bow to the young hero’s father, who sat by the Marshal’s side and who was acting as chairman of the reception committee.

Subsequently at the reception given to the Envoys at the Boston Public Library, M. Viviani, in concluding his graceful response to Governor McCall’s address of welcome, said:

“I salute that young hero, Norman Prince, who has died after having fought not only for France, but for America, because we have the same ideals of right and liberty.”

M. Henri Franklin Bouillon, French Minister of International Affairs, who made an official visit to this country later on, took occasion to express his admiration of this fine American aviator. Speaking subsequently at a public gathering in London of his observations in America he said: “I cannot better express to you the sentiment of the American people than by quoting that young American hero Norman Prince, who, in acknowledging a salute to the American aviators in Paris, said, ‘We have done what we have done; you must judge us by our hearts.’”

VIII

MESSAGES OF CONDOLENCE AND APPRECIATION

As Norman Prince was among the first of the American volunteers offering their services to France and to make the supreme sacrifice for her cause, it was but natural that his fate occasioned widespread and deeply sympathetic comment. The mournful tidings served in no small measure to bring home to the American people a more adequate realization of the fact that it was a World War that was waging on the European battle-fields and that the sooner this situation was recognized here the better for the cause of civilization everywhere. The messages of sympathy and appreciation were as numerous and universal as they were fervent and sincere. They found expression in the press, in the pulpit and in the forum, and the name of this hero came to be accepted as a fitting symbol of patriotism and self-sacrifice. Few of these messages were more tender and appreciative than those which came from Norman’s comrades in the aviation service in France. Commanders and subordinates were alike in this respect. A message from the comrades gathered at his bedside when he died said:

“Norman passed peacefully away this morning. He died like the
brave man he was. He was more than a brother to us. We are all
heartbroken.”

The French Government took formal and appreciative notice of the event, the representative of the French Army in this country sending this message to the family:

“The French Government transmits to you expressions of its deep
and sorrowful sympathy on the occasion of your son’s glorious
death. In my name as Military Attaché representing the French
Army in the United States, I desire to say that his death has
been for all his French comrades a cause of profound grief. It
is with the greatest admiration that we have seen all these
gallant young Americans risking and giving their lives for the
cause of France. Their memory deserves to be kept in the hearts
of our compatriots as is that of Lafayette in this country.

“We bow gratefully and respectfully before his grave.”

Representing the British Admiralty, Rear-Admiral Alfred E. A. Grant sent this message from London: “It was splendid of him to come over to fight for the Allies. You could have felt nothing but pride to have heard how his commanding officers speak of him—of his popularity with all his comrades; how gallantly and faithfully he performed his duties and how deeply his loss is regretted by all who knew him.”

CROIX DE GUERRE (_Red and green ribbon_)

_Star_, won for being cited in _L’Ordre du Jour_ of his
Division for having been the only one of twenty-five aviators
to reach Douai in 1915.

_First Palm_, won for being cited in _L’Ordre du Jour_ of the
French Army for having brought down an enemy avion.

_Second Palm_, for having brought down two enemy avions on the
same day—at the same time receiving the

_Third Palm_, cited in _L’Ordre du Jour_ for having brought
down a fourth enemy avion, and for meritorious service in a
raid on the Mauser ammunition works at Oberndorf—at the same
time receiving the

MÉDAILLE MILITAIRE (_Yellow and green ribbon_)

CROIX DE LA LÉGION D’HONNEUR (_Red ribbon_)]

Rev. Dr. Endicott Peabody of the Groton School wrote: “I must tell you how deeply Mrs. Peabody and I sympathize with you in Norman’s death. He gave his life in a great cause. That will be a comfort to you both, and he met his death with the courage that is characteristic of his family. Even with these considerations, I realize that your hearts must be heavy. It will please you to know that one of Norman’s classmates at Groton, who had followed his career in France with keen interest, has sent a contribution toward a memorial that he desires established at the school.”

Speaking for the Harvard Class of 1909 of which Norman was a member, its Secretary, Francis A. Harding, said: “On behalf of the Harvard Class of 1909, I wish to express the very deep regret which every Harvard man, and especially every classmate of Norman’s, has felt after reading the announcement of his death in France. To those of us who knew Norman intimately, the news of his death comes as a distinct shock, and every member of our class feels proud to have known and to have been affiliated with one who had the courage to give in such a noble way everything he possessed to the great cause in which he believed.”

From South Carolina Senator Tillman wrote: “Your son gave his young life in defense of what all of us know is a sacred cause. He was a twentieth century Lafayette, a modern knight errant whose statue will yet grace the capital of France. Prince? Yes, a Prince indeed—‘sans peur et sans reproche.’”

Many other thoughtful and tender messages came from others, friends and strangers, at home and abroad, testifying their commingled sorrow and admiration. Senator Henry Cabot Lodge telegraphed from Washington this tribute:

“Nothing could have been more gallant than his life—nothing
finer than his death in a great cause, dear to his heart.”

An eloquent and fitting epitaph!

TO NORMAN PRINCE

From a Boston Boy, in France, American Ambulance Field Service, October 20, 1916.

Gone is the honored boy bird
He’ll fly no more for France,
His spirit though,—a silent word
That over all the Earth is heard,—
Commands her friends Advance!

His courage and devotion tried
Must all the world convince
He was, as all of us decide,
And France, for love of whom he died,
In name and deed—a Prince.

The Riverside Press
CAMBRIDGE. MASSACHUSETTS
U. S. A