File:New England aviators 1914-1918; their portraits and their records (1919) (14760005221).jpg

Identifier: NewEnglandaviatVol2Tick (find matches)
Title: New England aviators 1914-1918; their portraits and their records
Year: 1919 (1910s)
Authors: Ticknor, Caroline, 1866-1937, ed
Subjects: Biography Aeronautics World War, 1914-1918
Publisher: Boston, New York, Houghton Mifflin Company
Contributing Library: Smithsonian Libraries
Digitizing Sponsor: Smithsonian Libraries

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Text Appearing Before Image:
HOWARD R. CLAPP
First Lieutenant, A.S., U.S.A., Twenty-Second Aero Squadron, Second Pursuit Group
Killed in action, Nov. 3, 1918
Son of Clift Rogers and Gertrude (Blanchard) Clapp; was born at Dorchester, Mass., July 24, 1893. He prepared for college at the Newton High School and the Noble and Greenough School; graduated from Harvard College, in 1916; entered the Law School, and during his first year there joined the Harvard Regiment. He attended the Officers' Training Camp at Plattsburg, from May until Aug., 1917, then entered the School of Military Aeronautics, M.I.T., graduating (with honor) Sept. 22, 1917; he continued his training at Mineola, N.Y., about Oct. 1, 1917; was commissioned 1st Lieut. Dec. 17, 1917, and sailed overseas Jan. 29, 1918. After training at Issoudun, France, Furbara, Italy, and Orly, he joined the 22d Aero Squadron, in Aug., 1918, at Toul. This Squadron in two months lost eleven of its original eighteen pilots, and had forty two German planes to its credit; it was actively engaged throughout the fighting along the left bank of the Meuse toward Sedan, during the last month of the war. On the afternoon of Nov. 3, 1918, a patrol of six pilots, among whom was Lieut. Clapp, went over the lines in single-seated Spads to bomb a road leading out of Beaumont to the north. They flew about twenty kilometers inside the German fines and on their return were attacked by eighteen German Fokkers. Three German planes are known to have been brought down and only three of the American planes returned to their own lines; two of them were so riddled with bullets as to be useless. Of the three Americans who failed to return, Lieut. Tiffany was taken prisoner, uninjured; Lieut. Gibson's plane, and grave, were later identified near Letanne, but no trace of Lieut. Clapp has been found. He was last seen engaged at close quarters with several of the German planes, and the officers of the Squadron reported that his plane was probably exploded by an incendiary bullet within the German lines, near Beaumont, ten miles south of Sedan; his place of burial is unknown. Lieut. Herman C. Rorison was decorated for his conduct in this fight. The other survivors are Lieuts. Frank B. Tyndall and John Crissey. (p. 8)
Text Appearing After Image:
Extract from letter written by Lieut. Clapp, June 6, 1918, describing combat practice: For the last few days I have been at the last field of this Group, doing combat practice, with camera-guns. It is the most thrilling and exciting work we have done so far, and wonderful practice. It accustoms you to handle the machine without paying any attention to it, or the horizon, or the ground, all old and tried friends of earlier days of instruction. But in combat your only thought is for the other machine, and how to get on his tail, or keep him from getting on yours. I have not done very much of it yet; twice with John Agar and once with Harry Harkins. We go out together or meet over some prearranged town, and then the fun begins. We start to circle, each one climbing for all he is worth, and at the same time drawing nearer each other. Round and round, and up and up ! Finally the circle gets so tight that we are both doing practically vertical banks and stretching our necks to the limit to keep an eye on the other man. Suddenly one or the other breaks — he has not handled his control properly in his anxiety to keep his place — and goes down in a side-slip or vrille (tail-spin). This is the chance that the other man has been waiting for, and he kicks the lower rudder of his machine, causing it to fall over on that side and down on the other man's tail. The latter by this time has come out of the vrille by going into a nose-dive, and with the tremendous speed thus acquired points his machine straight upwards in a terrific zoom. Then the real fun begins. It is like a juggler playing with a couple of balls. This morning I smashed my first bird all to bits — worse luck. I was coming down to land and it was very windy and our field is terribly rough. I had her on the ground on all three points when the wheels struck a bump and over she went on the left wing. Then things happened with much speed and raising of dust. She whirled round like a top, smashing the other wing to kindling wood and wiping off the landing-gear completely. The last thing that happened was one of the wheels flying up past my left ear and embedding itself in the wing! I had a tiny scratch on my left elbow and some badly hurt feelings, for it was the first time I had done any real damage to any of Uncle Sam's expensive planes. Very much disgusted! (p. 10)

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