Frank's early return from leave and subsequent victory on Sept. 26 set the stage for the final act this drama.
He returned to Rembercourt a very lonely man that evening, having lost the two pilots to whom he felt the most. Yet he kept it inside beneath his brash facade.
When fellow ace Kenneth Porter of the 147th kidded him in the hangars, saying "What's the matter, Luke? No bullet holes must mean no balloons. Are you slipping?" Luke replied: "Oh you'll see. I'm letting everyone take a crack at that bag over Bethenville and if, by the day after tomorrow, you all fail I'm going on over and bring it in."
Whether or not Grant had anything to do with the events of Sept. 26 or 27, in Frank Jr.'s mind, Grant was clearly linked to the deaths of Joe and Ivan. He wanted out from under the Texan's thumb, saw an opportunity and went to Hartney about it.
"He came to me and pleaded to be allowed to operate independently from (Vasconcells' ) field," Hartney later wrote. "His CO, Capt. Grant, was frantic at his inability to control Luke's activities." Hartney liked the idea, and went to see Grant about making the change on the 28th.
But Frank wasn't interested in waiting around. After spending the 27th on the ground - perhaps working to secure his transfer to B Flight - Frank ordered his plane gassed up and armed. Hartney says Frank took off on this unauthorized flight about noon (official records show it as 5:25 a.m. to 6:50 a.m.) while he and Grant were discussing Frank's future.
I think what is more likely is that Frank Jr. woke up early on the 28th and flew to Vasconcells' field before Grant realized what was going on. Vasconcells' field was only four miles from the front and much closer to Bethenville. Refueled, Frank waited until the German balloon bobbed up out of its nest and took off.
Whatever the circumstances, only one factor mattered to Grant: Luke did not have permission.
The idea that Frank Jr. - a mere second lieutenant - would commandeer a piece of government property and take off on his own little private war drove Grant right around the bend. From the beginning, Grant's relationship with Luke had been based entirely around the issue of control. For weeks, Luke had nodded and winked at Grant's orders, paying at least enough respect to the commander's wishes that he would at least pretend to have tried to follow them. Now all pretense was gone. Nobody ever just took up a plane and attacked a balloon without at least tacit approval from their commander. But Frank Jr. did.
The drachen at Bethenville had been bobbing over the Allied lines for two days when Frank went to go get it. He had watched it, had told his fellow pilots that he was going to give them all a shot at it. You couldn't help but know where to find it. And yet no one tried. The balloon at Bethenville was like a lighter-than-air in-your-face. If the rest of the American air corps was too scared of the drachen to attack it - even in force - Frank would show them how it was done.
Hartney recognized this truth, even if he dared not speak its name. American pilots, like their counterparts up and down the trenches, were scared of observation balloons. Nobody except the lunatic few would chase them unless expressly ordered to do so. Without those orders, the attack did not come - even though the standing orders from Sept. 25th called for all German balloons along the front to be attacked! The 27th had scored big hits on the German balloon line on Sept. 26, but their success seems to have left the other pilots cautious about tring the trick again too soon.
And as much as Hartney understood Grant's need for authority and control, he also knew that Grant's intention was to deprive the First Pursuit of its finest balloon buster at a time when such men were in great demand.
"I don't know if you know what it means to destroy an enemy balloon in its nest. It means that you have to come down to within 100 feet of the ground, pour incendiary bullets from a special high-caliber machine gun into it with sure, steady aim and maneuver your plane so it will not hit the ground, or the balloon or surrounding trees. All this, plus the planning of a successful getaway over the tree tops must be performed almost on the muzzles of from 10 to 20 ground machine guns and countless rifles which are pouring death at you at the rate of several hundred shots a minute," Hartney wrote.
Flying alone on his illegal mission, Luke crossed the lines at 500 meters altitude just north of Verdun. The Bethenville drachen was right where it had been for almost three days, and it was unguarded by fighters.
"I dove on it firing both guns," Luke wrote in his final combat report. "After I pulled away it burst into flames."
Hartney's account at this point begins to lose its reliability. He suggests that Luke returned and flew a second patrol with the squadron. It's not true.
Several accounts suggest Frank was AWOL with his Spad on the night of Sept. 26th. More still say Frank was AWOL on the night of the 27th. And it is a common tale that Frank took off from Rembercourt to attack the Bethenville drachen but flew instead to the Cignones field and stayed the night there on the 28th. There is also first-hand evidence to the contrary.
Really, all that we know is that Frank filed a short combat report on the balloon he downed at Behenville. While it is possible that he filed this report with Vasconcells on the 29th, I think it is more likely that Frank returned to Rembercourt on the 28th.
Frank landed to find his irate commander had left orders for him to report to the CO's office. Grant had had enough. Frank Luke Jr. was making a mockery of his command, and that runty bastard Hartney was allowing it to happen, undermining all Grant's authority with Luke and the rest of the squadron. Now the pretty-boy brat was whining that he didn't want to fly for him anymore, that he wanted to hot-dog around with that son-of-a- bitch Vasconcells and come and go as he pleased. And in the middle of all this, as Grant met with Hartney, the ultimate insult. Total disregard for orders. Total disrespect for his commander.
Luke didn't report directly to Grant. He returned to his tent, packed some of his things, and filled out a combat report on his latest kill.
Then he went in to see the commander.
Grant seethed. He asked Luke where he had been. Luke gave little reply. Grant went off, telling Luke that he was hearby grounded pending punishment for his actions. He asked Luke is he understood. "Yeah," said Luke as he flipped his combat report onto Grant's desk. "By the way, I got you another balloon." Then he turned and walked out of the commander's office.
Grant kicked back in his chair, feeling a queasy mixture of joy and uncertainty. True, that punk kid was about to get it right up the ass, which he righteously deserved, but then again there was this small matter of yet another balloon. The same balloon that Grant and his pilots had skillfully (and ashamedly?) avoided. He was about to courts-martial America's top ace and most fearless pilot - a man who had single-handedly carried the weight of his entire squadron, a man who was front-page news in the New York Times. A man who was a hero to the doughboys in the trenches. This wasn't going to look good. Grant sensed danger and resolved to move cautiously.
Frank made no such resolution. He never stopped walking when he left the commander's office, heading straight for the flight line. Frank's mechanics weren't surprised to see him. He ordered them to spin his prop, and he taxied right out onto the strip. Before Grant or any of the other officers could grasp what was happening, Frank was airborne.
Frank spent the night with a French unit - either a Cignones unit or a French balloon company. Grant had no idea where he was, but suspected Vasconcells. He called Jerry and gave him a direct order to arrest Frank when he landed.
Hartney's version:
"My, was his CO, Grant, angry! He came galloping into my headquarters in the morning of the 29th, all hot and bothered.
"'Major, this man Luke is going hog-wild,' he complained. 'I can't handle him unless you'll back me up. He thinks he's the whole Air Service. Rumor are about that he no longer intends to go out with the squadron on patrol. Says he is going on a balloon strafe alone and claims you'll OK it. What about it?'
"Luke had not asked me, but knowing mind and his ability, I said:
"'Yes, Luke is going up to the Verdun field for a balloon strafe, but I have issued absolute orders that his plane is not to stir off the ground until 5:56 p.m.That will bring him over the balloon after dark when all the heinies have gone home to roost.'
"Soon afterwar orders came from Vasconcells, confirming my previous talk with him, that Luke could take a crack at the enemy balloons on the upper Meuse near Milly about dusk. I though it unwise to assign anybody to go with him. Already two excellent men, Wehner and Roberts, had died on Luke's junkets."
Again, Hartney mixes the sound of truth with highly suspect history. I suspect that Hartney's account is an attempt to cover-up the fact that he completely undermined the command authority of a subordinate commander - a major military no-no. Luke didn't take off for Verdun after boasting to Grant and being backed up by Hartney. Luke stole a plane and went off on his own, and when Grant tried to do something about it, Hartney intervened.
What is more likely is that Grant either wrote or stormed to Hartney on the morning of the 29th after learning that Luke had gone AWOL with a 27th Squadron aircraft. Grant told Hartney that he believed Luke would be landing at Vasconcells' field and that he had ordered the lieutenant's immediate arrest.
Hartney knew that the option of arresting Frank Luke Jr. was not a workable one. Just eight days before, the NYT had run this report:
Downed Two Foes on a Few
Gllls of Gasoline
A days-old account of the events of Sept. 18 (with no depressing mention of Wehner's death), it was just another example of the kind of attention this kind from Phoenix was beginning to generate. And now we're going to arrest this man? Hartney had no intention of letting that happen.
Luke, having spent the night with the French, finally appeared over Vasconcells' field. Jerry had wrestled with his decision, yet was prepared to arrest the young hero. Then Hartney had called, telling Jerry not to arrest Luke, but not to call Grant or let Luke go anywhere, either. Vasconcells kept Luke grounded all afternoon by commandeering his Spad and not allowing him near it.
Hartney arrived soon enough, circling the field in his Sopwith Camel. Vasconcells was savvy enough to understand what was going on.
The group commander told Vasconcells that Grant's arrest order was hearby overridden. Frank would fly, but he would fly on Hartney's own timetable. No takeoff until 5:56 p.m.
"Almost wild with impatience to get going, Frank paced around the field like a caged lion. The dugout at this field was almost under the muzzle of one of the big U.S. Navy 16- inch railroad guns. Vasconcells knew when the next round was to be fired and prepared to play his favorite prank on Luke. Inviting him into the dugout, he poured him a cup of coffee. Just then the snooping commander of the group showed up at the door. I had becomre nervous over the situation up there and had flown over in the only machine available for such use - an English Camel without guns. And immediately, I added myself to Jerry Vasconcells' victims.
"Luke's cup of coffee was at his lips and I was standing holding mine in my hand when that huge naval gun went off with a colossal roar right over our heads. Luke hurled his cup, coffee and all, and it hit the ceiling. I jumped about seven feet and dropped mine on the floor. And Vasconcells, the blighter, roared his head off."
At 5:40, 16 minutes before Luke's takeoff time, Hartney was stuggling to get his Le Rhone started when he noticed Frank in the cockpit of his Spad with his "Hisso" clicking over.
"Highly exasperated I reached out of the cockpit and grabbled Vasconcells by the arm.
"'Do you see that?' I yelled. 'Go over and pull him out of that ship and tell him if he doesn't obey orders I'll stop his flying and send him to the rear.'
"In a moment Luke's propeller stopped and Vasconcells made him get out of his ship. Luke looked at me sheepishly, grinning. I shook my fist at him. Frank knew he couldn't get away with it. The Le Rhone caught and I was off down the field for Group headquarters.
"That gesture, a shaken fist, was my parting with Frank Luke."
Nice reading, but again, there's something suspicious about it. Did Luke swear off all authority, or just Grant's authority? It's hard to say.
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