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An American Volunteer with the Royal Flying Corp


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Nicely done, Tom. Great group and filling in the story behing the memorabilia almost puts Thomson back in that uniform....

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Thanks Mike,,coming from you that is high praise indeed! It doesn't inspire a painting does it? Say, Tommy going down with Schaffer hot on his heels? Or maybe Tommy standing by the wreckage of his SE5a with Schaffer in his Phalz waving as he zooms by? :lol: Oh well, a guy can dream!

 

Take care!

 

 

 

Nicely done, Tom. Great group and filling in the story behing the memorabilia almost puts Thomson back in that uniform....
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Thanks alot for the nice comments Ski, I thought you might like it!

 

Simply amazing!! Wow, now that is museum quality. Thanks for sharing!

 

-Ski

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Thanks for the encouragment Bob and thanks to the Moderators for their patience.

 

 

CdG - Now, we know 'The Rest of the Story" of these previously posted, but not identified, beautiful Brit Flying Corps uniforms worn by an American flying in France, and in captivity! And a wonderful story it is..... thumbsup.gif Congrats on a great historical find! Look forward to seeing more.

Bobgee

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You got it Devil Dog! I'm scanning in between feedings and diaper changes! We have a new roomate here at the house!

 

 

Wonderful story here - looking forward to the rest of the story!
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Meanwhile back in German occupied Belgium,,,,

 

 

Thomson’s description of his encounter with the “Hun” continues;

 

“Such an inviting target as I presented made them trigger happy and eight guns opened fire. I responded with my two guns, the aluminum clips from my Vickers flying past me in a stream, while the smoke from their tracers enveloped my machine in a ribbony pattern. I glanced at my instruments. The oil pressure showed zero. The motor died. Bullets had pierced the petrol tank. I fell into a spin, my wings were clipped, I was out of the Heavens and into Hunland",,,

 

After assuring both himself and the German medic that he was unhurt, he followed the soldier to a nearby farmhouse. After a brief wait while he was the subject of much interest by a small group of soldaten, an Unteroffizier appeared and asked Tommy to follow him. They walked through some much fought over woods and presently arrived at a regimental headquarters where Thomson was ignored for the most part by a group of gray clad officers. After a while a young officer came over and explained that they had already had supper and inquired if Tommy had eaten. He replied that he hadn’t, (he had planned on eating supper with his squadron mates and drinking to the good health of Gunnery Officer Smith, Mrs. Smith, baby Smith and any other Smiths they could think of.) so shortly an orderly appeared with a bowl of soup and some rather tasteless black bread.

 

Soon after his meal was finished, Thomson sent on to the local battalion headquarters so he was crammed in between two burly soldiers perched on top of a horse drawn soup kitchen with another German soldier riding a bicycle as the guard. When the driver of the wagon discovered that Tommy was an American he became very friendly and explained that he had a brother that drove a beer wagon in Chicago and once the war was over he hoped to move their himself. Tommy told him he thought that was a good idea and that he should run for mayor as soon as he arrives.

 

After a bumpy ride they finally arrived at their destination sometime after midnight; a shambling ruin near Steenwercke serving as the battalion HQ. He was welcomed by several young officers who inquired of his health, told him of the military gains the German Empire had made that day and also expressed that if he tried to escape it would unfortunately be their pleasure to have him shot. Thus Tommy spent his first night in a guardhouse, lulled to sleep by the snores of his guards.

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Small sterling silver framed portrait, note the RFC emblem pasted at the top. According to the inscription on the back, this photo was taken in England in the early spring of 1918 while Thomson was in hospital recovering from a bout of rheumatism.

post-3356-1225333114.jpg

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The next morning at around 10 o’clock, Tommy was visited by a German flying officer who presented his compliments and invited him out to lunch. He sent a barber to Thomson to give him a shave and a little while later they went out for a lunch of hamburger steak, soup, beans and beer. The conversation was a mixture of German, English and French. The German aviator (Could it have been Schafer the pilot that shot Tommy down?) traded Tommy a blanket and bar of soap for his fur-lined Government Issue flying suit. These suits were much sought after by German pilots for their warmth and the stylish feature of wearing gear from a captured enemy. Thomson said he later lost the blanket but he kept the soap for the entire time he was in captivity and judging by the looks of most of the Germans he saw, he came to the conclusion that it was the only bar of soap in Germany.

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Or maybe Tommy standing by the wreckage of his SE5a with Schaffer in his Phalz waving as he zooms by?

 

That would be the one - crashed, SE-5A, engine steaming after a rough landing, banged up airplane and two Germans swooping down. Schafer banked and waving, the other turning with him off and high up on his wing....

 

If I ever get through the load of stuff I'm working on now, that would be a good one. Anyway you can falsify his papers and make his hometown in New Jersey ? That way it's sure to get painted..... :P

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That would be the one - crashed, SE-5A, engine steaming after a rough landing, banged up airplane and two Germans swooping down. Schafer banked and waving, the other turning with him off and high up on his wing....

 

If I ever get through the load of stuff I'm working on now, that would be a good one. Anyway you can falsify his papers and make his hometown in New Jersey ? That way it's sure to get painted..... :P

 

:lol::lol::lol:

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A day or so later on a sunny Sunday morning, Thomson was transferred to the city jail in Courtrai, Belgium. He found several other prisoners there both British and Belgian. It was at Courtrai that Tommy began to believe in angels for they were visited by three women – one English (a Mrs. Fosatti who had been interned since 1914, a French woman and a Belgian) who had formed a volunteer committee to visit allied prisoners. Their visits were tolerated by the Germans and the prisoners were very appreciative of the gifts of toothpaste, a fresh shirt and strawberries. In addition to these gifts the men were visited by the young daughter of a local baker by the name of de Saegher. The young girls name was Julia and chaperoned by her brother Henri, she passed the gauntlet of frowning German guards to bring the men fresh rolls twice a week. The morning Thomson was transferred out of Courtrai, Julia presented Tommy with a parcel containing fresh eggs, sardines, rolls and butter, worth at that time, their weight in gold.

 

Years later in 1940 when the German army again rolled across the fertile lands of Belgium, Thomson wondered what had ever become of the little girl who had shown so much bravery and kindness to him when he was a prisoner of war. He wrote a small poem titled “The Child of Courtrai” which was published in the New York Herald Tribune. Little did Thomson know that the young girl was now grown, married and living in the United States. The poem was noticed by a freind of Julia's and she quickly contacted the paper to let Thomson know of her whereabouts. Enquires were made, letters written and telegrams sent and a touching reunion was arranged. The local press picked up the story and several newspaper articles were written. Eventually even Time magazine got wind of the coincidence and ran a short story about it in the June 24th issue in 1940.

 

Note that in the photo both of them are looking at the diary Thomson kept during his time a POW.

post-3356-1225398251.jpg

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Uh,,hello? Is this thing on???? think.gif

 

It's on, we're all just too stunned to answer. Isn't it amazing how these threads can continue to stay connected after 20 or more years ? Just when you thought the story was over....

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...........Wow. It gets even better. I thought it interesting to note that even though the "Royal Flying Corps" (R.F.C.), ceased to exist as of 1 April 1918, he was still wearing his RFC uniform and insignia in June. Most likely in a transition period. Great photos and "Epilogue"

Thanks for sharing.

Bobgee

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June 26, 1918 - The transfer to Germany begins. The train stops in Ghent and the prisoners are housed in an inner room at the train station. Tommy reads the pitifull graffiti left on the walls by Belgians being sent to Germany for forced labor. They leave again that same day and pass through Brussels around 10 o'clock. Throughout the night the train continues on passing through Namur and Leige.

 

June 17, 1918 - Breakfast in Strassburg, crosses the Rhine by noon at Appenweir and by one that afternoon Tommy reaches the train station at Rastatt in Baden where they are marched to the old fortress prison.

 

June 18, 1918 - Thomson meets the first Americans he has seen in six months; Dr. Maxon, Dr. Kane and a Lt. Wardle....

 

To be continued,,,,,,,

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