Bill Barnes Air Adventurer, July 1935 — page 129: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

AIR ADVENTURER 127 gp a ae The aérial activity was light at the time young Hawkins arrived at the front. In the weeks that followed, Cy had a chance to become thoroughly acclimated to the life and technique of the War in the air. This was a lucky break for the kid for he was able to get through that first deadly month so fatal usually to young pilots. The first few fights that the Texas kid participated in were sharp, sudden affairs, over almost before he realized that a fight was in progress. In time he learned to squint past his thumb into the sun to spot distant ships, to distin- guish between the silhouettes of friendly and enemy planes. Constant practice at the machine-gun butts soon turned him into a first-rate shot with the twin Vickers nestling under the cowling of his 3. > Between patrols, Cy spent all his time in the air, perfecting his knowledge of combat tactics in mock fights with his friendly commander. At first the major was invariably the winner; but as Cy’s experience increased, he became more and more able to hold his own against the cunning tactics of the veteran com- mander. So that, when at last the youthful Yank was thrown into the whirling turmoil of his first individual air fight, he found himself more than equal to his black-crossed opponent. Grimly, he maneuvered the bright- colored Fokker into the cross hairs of his machine-gun sight and sent the enemy ace hurtling earthward in flaming ruin. Back at the airdrome young Cy Haw- kins was called upon to set up drinks for the squadron in celebration of his first “confirmed decendu.” He was a real fighting pilot at last! Months later old man Hawkins received a photo of his son sitting proudly in a bullet-scarred S. E. 5 that sported the markings of an Indian pony and bore on a white patch just below the cockpit the Lazy H of the Hawkins ranch under a line of letters that spelled: THE TEXAS KID. Cy loved it: the fighting, the flying, the grim, friendly talk of brave men. To Cy the war was a thrilling game— until that fatal day when Major Wyndam went west. The lad from Texas never knew who fired the bullet that killed his friend. All he knew was that the gallant major had gone down. Cy never felt so young after that. He recuperated at the base hospital where he had been taken after being forced down on his way back to the home airdrome. The saddened young Texan never re- turned to his squadron. During his own convalescence at the hospital, America had at last entered the War. At once, Cy made application for a transfer to the newly organized air corps of his own country. After the signing of the armistice, Cy Hawkins got homesick for a sight of his native Texan Panhandle. As soon as he was demobilized he hurried back to his father’s ranch. The peace and quiet of the old place was soothing and restful after the hellish activity of the western front of war-time France. Young Cy, no longer a carefree’ kid, except in years, loafed around, taking a man’s part in the quiet routine of work- ing the Hawkins herds. BEFORE LONG, however, Cy in- vested the remnants of his pay as a fly- ing officer in the purchase at one of the government sales of surplus equipment, of a second-hand “Jenny.” The job of tuning up the old crate created a new interest in the young flier’s life and Cy was soon hopping all over the district in his reconditioned plane. This was the first flying machine that many of the natives of the Panhandle had seen. Be- fore he knew it, young Cy Hawkins be- came known throughout the cattle country as the “Flying Cowboy.” His various trips in the air took him oO COMmicloo S (C@