Loyola University Maryland - Evergreen / Green and Gray Yearbook (Baltimore, MD)

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maneuvered his maehine so that his propeller smashed into the tail ol ' the German, wreeking it and sending il to mother earth. With a wreeked i)ropeller and a dead ohserver he glided his maehine hack into the Freneh lines. Is he a man? (To Ills Father) : Tours, Franee, July IS. 1 am getting along great. I now tly the sehool maehine by inysell ' . My next tlight will he the start of my journeys. For to graduate IToin this sehool, we must take three journeys. The tirst is to the Fnglish sehool at Vendome in the morning, a distanee of about 70 miles and tly baek the same day. The next two tlights are over a triangular eourse of about 000 and -100 miles. Hying at an altitude of 2,000 metres. July 14th is the Frenchman’s July 4lh, and athletic games were held. We Americans won every event, coming first, second and third in each, except in the discus and the reason we lost that was because Wiherg had a sore arm and could not throw. I won the heavy weight boxing and middleweight. IJiey gave me a gold medal as big as a dinner ])late, with a lot of engraving on it that 1 haven’t as yet been able to translate. (To His Mother) ; France, July 28.. . Yesterday I t[ualitied as a ])ilot so I shall leave this school in a few days and learn water machines at another school. In France aviators are treated like kings. I ' his Hying game is great sport. The Frenchmen seem highly pleased with us Americans. They say we learn very fast. The only real hard part is making landings. The first thirty or forty times I made landings in the landing-class, I was a bucking bronco and broke more wires than you could shake a stick at. khey take you to a narrow valley about seven or eight miles from the school. The instructor sits in the front seat and you handle the machine. He never touches the controls. You make seven landings one way and eight the other. Just as soon as you attain a height of 800 feet you cut off the motor and come down. When you jiass from the landing-class you make your first hoj) alone. You are ])ut in a machine with a 00 H. F. rotary engine and a mechanic regulates the motor to full speed, while several others hold the machine. 4ien the engine is going well they let go and you tly from one end of the field to the other. If you get away with it, they put you in the same machine and let you make a circle of the field. You then do the same with a 80 H. P. and a 00 H. P. machine. After that you go to a spiral field and Hy to a height of 500 metres, cut off the motor and si)iral 10

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On May 18, 1918, John was returning from a raid when the engine of the machine he was dying stopped when it was directly over Dun- querque, at a height of about two hundred feet. It was impossible to make the water of the outer harbor and as he was losing altitude very ra])idly he attempted to make a “stall landing” on the roof of a house, hut his machine being completely out of control, was blown from its course, one wing striking a chimney, which threw the machine into the street, so that John was instantly killed. It was a strange coincidence that his parents received a letter from him on the very day he died, Saturday, May 18, 1918. John Ganster’s memory will always live in the memory of all who knew him; it will be forever cherished by the boys of Loyola, present and to come. He did not live to see the realization of the victory for which he fought. But it was the supreme sacrifice that he and his brother-heroes oft ' ered on the altar of liberty that made the victory possible. They died that we might live. It is this thought that may help to lessen in some degree the grief of his family in their bereavement. The college of which he was a student and the congregation whose faithful allar-boy he was, offer them the tribute of deep and heartfelt sympathy. John Ganstcr lived not in vain. Mai] he rest in peaee. We publish below extracts from letters written by John to his mother, father and brother. They cover in an interesting way the period he spent over there, up to the time he went to Dunquerque where he was tirst wounded and later met his untimely death. (To His Brother) ; Tours, France, July 2. “This is the finest school imaginable. There are about two hundred machines here of the best type, and the stunts these Frenchmen pull otf would make your hair curl. To see the “loop the loop” is a common occurrence. We don’t even look at them anymore. Here is our daily routine. Turn out at 4 A. M. and have cotfee and cheese; start flying at 4.30 and tly until 9.30; instruction in the theory of tlight and motors from 9.30 until 10.30; cat at 10.30; sleej) until 4 in the afternoon; eat again at 4,30; fly from 5 until dark and again sleep. The French- men say that to tly one must have as much rest as possible, therefore I am becoming a star impil. I am looking forward to ' my graduation which will be in about two months from now. All of the instructors here are jiilots that have served at the front. Let me tell you the calibre of the man my instructor is. He was tight- ing a German 1,000 feet in the air and his observer was killed. He then shot at the Dutchman with his pistol until all his ammunition was gone. He was shot eight times in the right arm, but with his left he 9

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down. Then you must tly to an altitude of 6,000 feet, stay there for two hours and spiral down with the motor completely stopped. That was good si)ort. After that a journey to the English school at Vendome is made and you have “finis as the French say, and you get a machine and lly where yon want to. (To His Brother) : France, Sept. 12, 1917. Am now tlying sea-i)lanes. They are good sjiort, but I must say I like the land machines better and ho])e to he sent back to them later. Expect to linish here in a couple of weeks and he sent to San Raphael for rough water Hying and machine guns. (To His Brother) : St. Raphael, France, Oct. 28, 1917. It does seem remarkable that I have tlown eight different kinds of machines and not broken my neck. 1 guess I told you that I was to be made an instructor. Well, I have started on my studies. I know why there is wind, the different kinds of clouds, what causes storms, how to make and load a bomb, operate and repair a machine gun, hut by no means do I know the different theories of flight. I have hopes though, and if I learn enough. I’ll iirobably never practice law again, but stick to aerojilanes not Hying, that is only a war measure and hard on the nerves. Do you know that out of fifty there are only twenty-seven left in the game — had to quit for jihysical reasons? I learn that Fr. Duffy (his former teacher at Foyola, now Chaplain in the Navy) has returned to Foyola. If you see him give him my resiiects and ' say that I still have the holy “badge” (of the Sacred Heart) which he sent me while I was at Pensacola. I guess he feels rather elated over the work priests are doing in France. It is said they are most fearless and have done wonders for the wounded, and one sees very few of them in the towns. Most likely after the war the Jesuits will be allowed in France. (To His Brother) : St. Raphael, Nov. 4, 1917. This afternoon we were invited to a tea at the villa of a French major. His ])lace is in the town of Frejus. It used to he ti Roman stronghold some two thousand years ago. An arena and aqueduct are still in a jiretty good state of preservation. The major has been wounded and is now convalescing. He is a great admirer of Americans. He is form- ing a sort of league among the best people in France to entertain Americans who are on leave so that they will not have to go to hotels. As he expresses it, they can come into our homes and learn what France really is. He s])eaks English perfectly and I learned more about the war yesterday, especially the Russian and Italian situations, than I had 1C