The Brighton Boys with the 
Flying Corps 
 
The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Brighton Boys with the Flying 
Corps 
by James R. Driscoll This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at 
no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, 
give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg 
License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net 
Title: The Brighton Boys with the Flying Corps 
Author: James R. Driscoll 
Release Date: July 19, 2004 [EBook #12938] 
Language: English 
Character set encoding: ASCII 
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WITH THE 
FLYING CORPS *** 
 
Produced by Jim Ludwig 
 
THE BRIGHTON BOYS WITH THE FLYING CORPS 
by Lieutenant James R. Driscoll 
 
CONTENTS 
 
CHAPTERS
I. The Brighton Flying Squadron II. First Steps III. In the Air IV. Off 
for the Front V. Jimmy Hill Startles the Veterans VI. The Fight in the 
Air VII. Parker's Story VIII. Thrills of the Upper Reaches IX. In the 
Enemy's Country X. Planning the Escape XI. Through the Lines XII. 
Pluck and Luck XIII. The Raid on Essen XIV. A Furious Battle 
 
CHAPTER I 
THE BRIGHTON FLYING SQUADRON 
"The war will be won in the air." 
The headlines in big black type stared at Jimmy Hill as he stood beside 
the breakfast table and looked down at the morning paper, which lay 
awaiting his father's coming. 
The boys of the Brighton Academy, among whom Jimmy was an 
acknowledged leader, had been keenly interested in the war long before 
the United States joined hands with the Allies in the struggle to save 
small nations from powerful large ones---the fight to ensure freedom 
and liberty for all the people of the earth. 
A dark, lithe, serious young French lad, Louis Deschamps, whose 
mother had brought him from France to America in 1914, and whose 
father was a colonel of French Zouaves in the fighting line on the 
Western Front, was a student at the Academy. Interest in him ran high 
and with it ran as deep an interest in the ebbing and flowing fortunes of 
France. The few letters Mrs. Deschamps received from Louis' soldier 
father had been retailed by the proud boy to his fellows in the school 
until they knew them by heart. 
Bob Haines' father, too, had helped fan the war-fire in the hearts of the 
boys. Bob was a real favorite with every one. He captained the baseball 
team, and could pitch an incurve and a swift drop ball that made him a 
demi-god to those who had vainly tried to hit his twisters. Bob's father 
was a United States Senator, who, after the sinking of the Liusitania, 
was all for war with Germany. America, in his eyes, was mad to let 
time run on until she should be dragged into the world-conflict without
spending every effort in a national getting-ready for the inevitable day. 
Senator Haines' speeches were matter-of-fact----just plain hammering 
of plain truths in plain English. Many of his utterances in the Senate 
were quoted in the local papers, and Bob's schoolmates read them with 
enthusiasm when they were not too long. 
Then, too, a number of the Brighton boys had already entered the 
service of Uncle Sam. Several were already at the front and had written 
thrilling letters of their experiences in the trenches, at close grip with 
the Boches. Still more thrilling accounts had come from some of their 
former classmates who were in the American submarine service. Other 
Brighton boys who had gone out from their alma mater to fight the 
good fight for democracy had helped to fan the flame of patriotism. 
So the school gradually became filled with thoughts of war, and almost 
every boy from fourteen years of age upward planned in his heart of 
hearts to one day get into the fray in some manner if some longed-for 
opportunity ever presented itself. 
Jimmy Hill---who was fortunate in that his home was within walking 
distance of the Academy---commenced his breakfast in silence. Mr. 
Hill read his paper and Mrs. Hill read her letters as they proceeded 
leisurely with the morning meal. The porridge and cream and then two 
eggs and a good-sized piece of ham disappeared before Jimmy's 
appetite was appeased, for he was a growing boy, who played hard 
when he was not hard at some task. Jimmy was not large for his age, 
and his rather slight figure disguised a wiriness that an antagonist of his 
size would have found extraordinary. His hair was red and his face 
showed a mass of freckles winter and summer. Jimmy was a bright, 
quick boy, always well up in his studies and popular with his teachers. 
At home Jimmy's parents thought him quite a normal boy, with an 
unusually large fund of questions    
    
		
	
	
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