“The rock-star celebrity the Lafayette Escadrille achieved during its 22 months of existence was nothing less than remarkable.”

By Steve Ruffin

THE LAFAYETTE ESCADRILLE was a First World War flying squadron unlike any other. Although part of the French Aéronautique Militaire, it was composed almost entirely of volunteer pilots from the United States.

It formed in April of 1916 – a full year before America’s entry into the war – and continued to operate over the next 22 months. During that period, it gained a world renown that still exists today.

Before volunteering to fly, most of the squadron’s young American pilots were already serving in France as soldiers in the Foreign Legion or as frontline ambulance drivers.

The escadrille operated at numerous locations along the Western Front until February 1918, when it was absorbed into the newly formed U.S. Air Service. A total of 38 Americans flew with the squadron. By war’s end, 11 of them had lost their lives, and several others were wounded or were made prisoners of war.

Here are a dozen key details about this remarkable flying unit.

It was a political hot potato

Long before the all-American squadron was formed, a handful of volunteer pilots from the United States were already flying in various French squadrons. Some of them lobbied the brass to form a unit made up entirely of U.S. volunteers, but neither the French nor American governments had any interest in such a thing. Washington feared such a move would jeopardize President Wilson’s strict neutrality policy and the French had no desire to defy such a powerful potential ally. Both the press and the public on both sides of the Atlantic, however, enthusiastically followed the exploits of the volunteer American pilots already flying in Europe. French officials noticed and soon recognized the potential propaganda value of an all-American squadron. Some thought it might even help lure neutral America off the fence and onto the side of France. Consequently, the wheels were set in motion and on April 20, 1916, the much-anticipated squadron became operational. Its initial contingent of seven American pilots was placed under the command of two French officers.

It was a squadron with many names

The official designation of the squadron was Escadrille N.124, the “N” standing for the Nieuport fighter aircraft with which it was equipped. However, the wartime correspondents, who descended like a swarm of locusts on the new squadron of glamorous young American aviateurs, dubbed it Escadrille Américaine. Few liked the name. The still-very-neutral U.S. government worried about the optics of the unofficial national designation, while the military leadership in France bristled at an “American” reference, even in a nickname. Thus, French authorities declared that the squadron would instead be called Escadrille des Volontaires. But there were problems with this name too: It was dull, and the American pilots – most of them idealistic young men who championed the French cause – were decidedly unenthusiastic about it. Instead, they suggested an alternative that was both symbolic and catchy, as well as politically correct. They chose Lafayette Escadrille to honour the young French nobleman, Marquis de La Fayette, who had travelled to America in 1777 to fight alongside the patriots in the War of Independence. The Americans were fighting for France to help repay this debt, so the name was a perfect fit.

The squadron was a hotbed of class conflict

The American pilots who flew for the Lafayette Escadrille came from all walks of life. Many were scions of wealthy Eastern American families – lawyers, architects, authors, businessmen, university students. But the squadron also had its share of men from less privileged backgrounds – adventurers, drifters, ex-cowpunchers, taxi drivers and mechanics. This unlikely social mix generated interesting conversation in the squadron mess and awkward interpersonal dealings. It also led to the formation of rival cliques, which in turn sparked internal conflict. Because of this, some of the men simply did not like one another. Despite their differences, however, they all some things in common: a sense of adventure and a love of flying. More importantly, each man was devoted to France and the cause for which he was fighting. Consequently, they were able to put aside petty disputes and accomplish the mission at hand. Even if they could not all be friends, they lived, flew, fought and died together as a unit.

They were an unruly bunch of “savages”

Escadrille N.124 was never an “American” squadron. Though manned predominantly with pilots from the U.S., it was a French outfit led by French officers and supported by French personnel. The two commanders were Capitaine Georges Thenault and his deputy, Lt. Alfred de Laage de Meaux. Both were distinguished pilots and were fluent in English. Their difficult job was to gently manage the often-unruly gaggle of young Americans. They succeeded, but their patience was often tested to its limits. They frequently ran afoul of local authorities; drinking binges in Paris nightclubs were also commonplace. In fact, the squadron’s wild and disorderly antics led at least one disgusted French officer to label them as “sauvages.”

Their unit insignia became an icon

The most identifiable feature of the Lafayette Escadrille was the colourful emblems the pilots painted onto the sides of their aircraft. While displaying the Stars and Stripes of neutral America was out of the question, the fliers found a more acceptable but equally American symbol: an Indian warrior in full headdress. Opposing German airmen who saw this insignia immediately knew it was the Amerikanische Piloten they were facing. The first artistic effort the squadron adopted was a Seminole Indian image patterned from an ammunition box logo. Later, two of the more talented American pilots re-designed it to appear as a fiercer and more vivid Sioux warrior.

Whiskey and Soda were more than just a drink

The Lafayette Escadrille was also famous for its unique collection of furry mascots. There was Capitaine Thenault’s beloved dog, Fram, who appears in many photos, along with various other canines. Some pilots even befriended a fox. Most memorable, however, were the two lion cubs the Americans adopted. The first was named “Whiskey” because, as a tiny cub, it was known to lap up booze from a saucer. As the animal grew, the men decided he needed a female companion, so they acquired a second cub they called “Soda.” Whiskey and Soda quickly became almost as famous as the pilots themselves and only added to the squadron’s maverick mystique.

They played a very dangerous game

The young Americans in the Lafayette Escadrille were eager to fly for France, but most of them had no idea what they were getting themselves into. Air combat in the First World War was extremely dangerous, uncomfortable and punctuated with moments of sheer terror. Even without the dogfighting, simply piloting a rickety, open cockpit biplane in 1916 took more courage, endurance and skill than most could muster. Throw a highly competent and determined enemy flying superb aircraft armed with twin machine guns into the mix and you had the stuff of nightmares. Some men simply couldn’t cope with the fear and the stress. Mental breakdowns were not uncommon. Pilots who cracked under the pressure were quickly removed from the squadron.

They were not a squadron of aces

The Lafayette Escadrille was, in terms of its combat achievements, only an average squadron. The 38 Americans who flew for the squadron officially downed just 33 enemy aircraft over a 22-month period. And of these, 16 were credited to one pilot: the escadrille’s shining star and only ace, Raoul Lufbery. A whopping 25 pilots – well over half the squadron’s roster – scored no victories at all. Though seemingly unimpressive, these numbers were actually the norm. Most pilots who flew in World War One never shot down a single enemy airplane. Scoring a kill required a rare combination of skill, courage and luck. Consequently, only a handful of exceptional pilots, such as Lufbery, achieved any degree of success. Despite their lacklustre victory tally, most of the men who flew for the Lafayette Escadrille performed their assigned duties courageously and proficiently.

The “Bottle of Death” really existed

One of the most interesting Lafayette Escadrille traditions was initiated after Kiffin Rockwell downed the squadron’s first enemy airplane on May 18, 1916. His brother, Paul, had sent him a rare bottle of bourbon with which to celebrate the victory. Kiffin took a swig and passed it around when one of his comrades stopped him with an idea. “We should reserve this fine liquor for a special occasion,” he suggested. “When any pilot downs an enemy airplane, he can take a drink.” Thus, the squadron’s legendary “Bottle of Death” was born. Most pilots never even got a taste, while Raoul Lufbery ended up consuming most of it – 16 swallows, to be exact. The empty bottle survives today at the Franco-American Museum, Château de Blérancourt, France.

The pilots did not like Mondays

The Lafayette Escadrille had its own version of the Monday blues. It’s one of those interesting yet inexplicable ironies of war that the last five American pilots shot down and killed in combat while flying with the Lafayette Escadrille met their fate on the same day of the week: Monday. James McConnell, Edmond Genet, Ronald Hoskier, Douglas MacMonagle, and Courtney Campbell died on different Mondays in 1917. Whatever effect this eerie coincidence had on the remaining pilots – most of whom were already superstitious – is lost to history, but one might imagine that the first day of the new week was a popular day to stay in bed.

They were often confused with the Lafayette Flying Corps

To this day, there is widespread confusion between the squadron and what was called the “Lafayette Flying Corps.” The latter was the unofficial term used to describe all 269 Americans who flew for France during World War One. But of these, only 38 served in the Lafayette Escadrille. The other 231 volunteers flew alongside French pilots in various other Aéronautique Militaire squadrons. So, though all the pilots of the Lafayette Escadrille were members of the Lafayette Flying Corps, only a select group actually served in the 124th.

A replica of a Lafayette Escadrille Nieuport fighter. (Image source: WikiMedia Commons)

A plane of the 103rd Aero Squadron in 1918 emblazoned with the iconic insignia of the Lafayette Escadrille.(Image source: WikiMedia Commons)

American-made Curtiss P-40 Warhawk fighters being transferred to the French air force at Casablanca, Jan. 9, 1943. The planes are marked with Lafayette Escadrille markings in tribute to the friendship between the United States and France. (Image source: WikiMedia Commons)

The beautiful Mémorial de l’Escadrille Lafayette at Marnes-la-Coquette, on the western outskirts of Paris, honors all the Americans who flew for France during World War I. (Steve Ruffin)

It was a flying squadron with a unique legacy

The rock-star celebrity the Lafayette Escadrille achieved during its 22 months of existence was nothing less than remarkable. Thanks to the constant press coverage the young American aviators received, they became household names throughout Europe and America. Even after the war, it seemed everyone wanted to capitalize on their fame. One historian estimated that as many as 4,000 men falsely claimed to have flown with the legendary squadron. Today, the Lafayette Escadrille remains an operational squadron in the French Air Force, and the modern U.S. Air Force can trace its earliest roots back to these first American pilots. After the members transferred to the U.S. Army Air Service on Feb. 18, 1918, they became the core of the country’s first air combat unit, the 103rd Aero Squadron. The escadrille’s most visible legacy, however, is the beautiful Lafayette Escadrille Memorial, dedicated in 1928 and located on the outskirts of Paris. Forty-nine American pilots who died in World War One pour la France rest in the crypt that lies beneath the memorial.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Steven A. Ruffin is the author of The Lafayette Escadrille: A Photo History of the First American Fighter Squadron. An aviation writer and researcher who has previously written the books Aviation’s Most Wanted and Flights of No Return, as well as numerous articles in aviation and military magazines, he also served as the managing editor of the prestigious World War I aviation journal Over the Front from 2007 through 2010.