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Georges Guynemer: Knight of the Air

Chapter 8 GUYNEMER IN HIS FATHER'S HOUSE

Word Count: 2917    |    Released on: 01/12/2017

zled by the Cid in his camp, is supposed to see him i

donc passé? Quel

ous trouve en ves

s, nu-tête, et

en main l'auge

u'il sied aux é

d, je suis mainten

His renown had not intoxicated him, and he would have been quite unconscious of it had he not sometimes felt that unresponsiveness on the part of others which is the price of glory: anything like jealousy hurt him as if it had been his first discovery of evil. In

eal hostility, which he fortunately never encountered, but even to an obscure germ of jealousy. The moment he

ingly like school games, and are spoken of as if they were nothing else. When a comrade has not come back, and dinner has to begin without him, no show of sorrow

ns, with a childlike certitude that these things must delight others as much as himself. His French honors were of course his great pride, but he highly appreciated those which he had received from allied governments, too: the Distinguished Service order, the Cross of St. George, the Cross of Leopold, the Belgian war medal, Serbian and Mon

e came," this officer writes, "some new exploit or a new decoration had been added to his list. He never wore all his medals, his 'village-band banner,' as he amusingly called them; but when people asked to see them, he immediately searched his pockets and produced the whole disor

it, and Guynemer felt that he must complain to the

, a huge one," he sai

ynemer only took back again the one of which he had complained,

received his captain's commission the same day he had been given the Distinguished Service order, and he promptly went to see his friend, Captain de la Tour, who was wounded in the hospital at

ny change in me?

re just a

ere's a

your English order;

ething else.

ered the three stripes

re you a

a captain! So I am not an impressive captain, then? I haven't ru

He enjoyed this peaceful recreation thoroughly, and forgot the excitement of his life at the front. Memories of our boyhood days came back to him, and he dwelt on them with delight: 'Do you remember one day in seconde when we quarreled and fought like madmen? You made such a mark on my arm that it is there yet.' He did not mind, but I

quick. One day he had left his motor at the door of the hotel, and some practical joker thought it clever to leave a note in the

s honor by the well-known deputy, Captain Lasies, he would not say a word about hims

st asked: "Could you

y understand? I don't say I am modest, but if I weren't I would be a fool, and I should not like to be that. I know quite well that just now some of us ar

s Débats for Se

e wrote to his father that a Madame de B. wanted something, just one sentence, in an album which

ered her maid to bring away an old glove of Guynemer's which was lying on a chest of drawers, and replace it by a magnificent bouqu

ed in the Figaro fo

what a handsome dame!" "Oh," answers Gilbert, "what a handsome creature my steed is! I never saw anything so lovely as this maiden with her fair skin and dark eyes. I never knew any steed that could compare with mine." And so on, while Gilbert still refuses to look up at the beautiful daughter of Anséis. Also in Girard de Viane, Charlemagne, holding his court at the palace of Vienne, has just placed the hand of the lovely Aude in that of his nephew Rol

mb

city of such a young man to resist the intoxi

my nerves as an acrobat watches his muscles. I

aside heaps of flattering letters which he did not even read. 'Read them if you like,' he s

l to the Prince Imperial, and handi

o

d'avoir l'a

has nicknamed "Little Spring"-"because the water sleeping in her eyes or purling in her voice has often cooled his f

n of St. Jean l'Hospitalier dealt with birds?-No "Little Spring," had her voice been

g and charming boy, except when absorbed in work, from which nothing could distract him. He spent hours in pasting and classifying the snapshots he took of his enem

d the house ornamented with some new trophy of his exploits. He was delighted to find that a miniature barkentine, which he had built with corks, paper, and thread when he

t his mother forgot once and called the tall, famous young man by his

s that to y

en you were littl

e not vexed wi

d for

ving gr

d chasing, and he would go round the house collecting audiences. Strange b

ed myself becam

ha

ued myself be

led me, so I hid th

ould not always give them the present he preferr

ay the great man. Only on one subject he always and instantly became serious, nam

oks will help to show Guynemer a

tique runner, even when he is for an instant in repose. His parents and sisters do not miss a single gesture, a single motion he makes. They drink in his every word, and his life seems to absorb them. His laugh echoes in their souls. They believe in him, are sure of him, sure of his future, and that all will be well. Noticing this certitude, whether real or assumed, I could

gs of German airplanes. One of these is seen as it falls in flames, the pilot falling, too, s

because he looked so full of life that the notion of death could never pr

no time at all. I've been brought down six times, and I always had plenty of

In one fight he was hit three times, and each time

ool with a singularly calm expression, and well filled-out cheeks. A little later the expression appeared more mature and tense, though still ingenuous. Later again there was a decidedly stern look, with the face less oval and thinner. The rough fingers of war had chis

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