The Boy Volunteers with the French Airmen — Context and Discussion

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In Category - Childrens Adventures

Authors: Ward, Kenneth Digital Source: Project Gutenberg Gutenberg Release Year: 2011 First Publication Year: Not confirmed

Key Word: War stories; World War, 1914-1918 -- Aerial operations -- Juvenile fiction; Airmen -- France -- Juvenile fiction Target Reader: Readers of public-domain and historical texts

Book Edition: Project Gutenberg digital edition Book Language: en

Edition facts

Words 39,151

Reading time 171 min

Text sections 4

This digital edition of The Boy Volunteers with the French Airmen — Context and Discussion is described by source-level measurements including 39,151 words, 2 hr 51 min estimated reading time, and 4 detected text sections.

The text analysis averages about 16.2 words per sentence, while the detected sections provide another way to judge how the source is divided.

Project Gutenberg metadata also associates the work with “War stories,” connecting these edition facts with the source record’s subject description.

Source: Project Gutenberg record #37927

In this 1917 adventure, American boys Ralph and Alfred join French airmen during World War I. The excerpt focuses on a harrowing flight through a thunderstorm, where the pilot describes lightning as balls of fire, a spinning compass, and a strange exhilarating odor.

Editorial Edition Score 4.6/5

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Title & short description10 pts
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Text length15 pts
Chapters / structure15 pts
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Edition quality

File: pg37927

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Antwerp was in a fever of excitement, as Ralph and Alfred marched up from the quay with the Belgian troops, and rumors of an immediate attack on the city were flying about.

"Look at the Zeppelin!" cried out a voice.

The boys turned to follow the gaze of the people who lined the streets. There, almost directly west, they caught the first glimpse of one of the monsters which appeared to be moving south, far beyond the reach of the encircling forts, but plainly visible.

"Nothing would suit me better than a trip in a flying machine!" exclaimed Alfred.

"Wouldn't that be fine?" replied Ralph.

The sight seemed to be an inspiration to the boys. Our story will tell how the idea so impressed itself on their minds that they almost felt it a duty to join a flying corps. That, however, seemed to be an impossibility.

They had passed through Belgium, participated in the first battles of the war, had been captured, and escaped from the Germans, and had now reached Antwerp, with the retreating Belgian army, where Ralph had hoped to meet his father, whom they had left in Germany almost four weeks prior to that time.

As the father had not arrived, owing to the embargo which had been placed on all travelers from Germany to the warring countries, the boys found themselves stranded in a strange city. Fortunately, their connection with the army, and the fact that they had rendered Belgium some service, made it possible for them to get food and lodging.

"We have forgotten one thing," said Ralph.

"What is that?" inquired Alfred.

"Why, we never went to the Post Office," replied Ralph.

At the General Post Office they received a letter from Alfred's father, only to learn that he had been detained, as was the case with thousands of Americans, and that it would be impossible for him to reach Antwerp. Instead, he would be permitted to go through Switzerland, and from that country reach Paris where he hoped to meet them.

"But we have no money now, what shall we do?" asked Alfred.

"That's what worries me," answered Ralph. "Father supposes that Pierre is still with us, and that we are supplied with money."

Three days after receiving the letter the boys heard the first definite news of the great movement of German troops designed to attack the forts. If they surrounded the city, and besieged it, the chances of reaching Paris would be small, indeed.

"Something must be done, and that today," said Ralph. "I am going to leave if I have to walk."

"Where to?" asked Alfred.

Ralph smiled, as he said: "We might walk to Holland."

Alfred almost shouted for joy, as he exclaimed: "That's a good idea. We have about ten francs left; that ought to take us through."

A map was consulted. "Why, yes," said Alfred, "we can go north to Eeckeren, and from that place to Capellen, close to the frontier. It's only twelve miles."

After this decision they again visited the Post Office, and immediately crossed through the city with a view of striking the main highway leading to Holland. Reaching the outskirts of the city, they were surprised to see great masses of Belgian troops encamped close to the forts, which guarded the highway. They soon learned that a strong German column had reached Brasscheat, three miles from Eeckeren.

They looked at each other in amazement. "Well, this beats everything," said Alfred, with a shade of bitterness. "The Germans seem to be in our way whichever direction we turn. We'll have to take another route."

"Another route?" blurted out Ralph. "There isn't another way to go on this side of the river. It would be a long tramp to cross the river."

They were now in a serious dilemma, and stood there undecided as to the best course to follow, when they were startled by a voice: "Hello, boys!"

"It's Pierre!" shouted Alfred, who was the first to spy their friend.

"And how did you get here?" asked Alfred. "We thought they had captured you at Rouen."

"So they did, but we got away the same night. But where are you going?" returned Pierre.

"Trying to get to Holland," he was informed.

"I am afraid you will have to go south of the Scheldt to get there," Pierre then informed them.

"But I received a letter from father, and he wants us to meet him in Paris," said Alfred. "You know we don't want to be shut up in the city, if the Germans are going to surround it."

Continue Reading →

The excerpt from Kenneth Ward's 1917 novel drops readers into a specific, disorienting aerial experience: a pilot trapped inside a thundercloud, with lightning appearing as "balls of fire" rather than streaks, a compass needle spinning so fast it cannot be read, and a "pungent" odor that proves "decidedly exhilarating." This is not a generic war story; the passage dwells on the sensory and technical confusion of flight—the pilot cannot tell direction, altitude, or whether the machine is moving with or against the storm. The boys, Ralph and Alfred, listen as the pilot recounts the episode, their questions pressing for concrete details: how high, how long, could you see the earth?

A Pilot’s Disorientation in the Storm

The storm sequence in the excerpt is built around a series of failed instruments and unreliable perceptions. The compass needle "swung around with such velocity" that it could not be seen; the pilot could not determine whether the aircraft was moving with the storm or against it. He notes that the lightning lacked the familiar zig-zag shape seen from the ground, appearing instead as "balls of fire" that burst with a crackling sound. The altitude reading—770 meters—is given only after descent, and even then the rain is so heavy that the earth remains invisible. The pilot’s account is structured as a puzzle: each attempt to regain orientation (turning, descending, ascending) only deepens the uncertainty.

The Boys as Audience and Interlocutors

Ralph and Alfred function primarily as listeners in this excerpt, their questions shaping the pilot’s narrative. Alfred asks, "What were you thinking about while all this was happening?"—a prompt that draws out the pilot’s subjective experience of fascination rather than fear. Ralph’s queries are more technical: "How high were you up?" and "Couldn't you tell which way the wind was blowing?" Their presence frames the storm story as an oral report, with the pilot repeatedly answering with precise measurements ("seven hundred and seventy meters") or admissions of ignorance ("we could not possibly say whether we were going north or south"). This dynamic positions the boys as stand-ins for the reader, absorbing a lesson in the limits of aerial navigation.

Contrasts Between Ground and Air

The pilot repeatedly contrasts his airborne perspective with ordinary ground-level experience. Lightning, he explains, does not appear in "streaks, darting hither and thither" but as momentary spheres of flame. The thunder is "weird beyond description," and the storm’s odor—likely ozone or nitrous compounds—is "not at all unpleasant, but decidedly exhilarating." He notes that the machine sailed "smoothly" despite the violence around it, and that he felt "no particular sense of danger" after the first moments. These observations create a consistent pattern: the air warps familiar phenomena, turning danger into fascination and disorientation into a kind of calm. The pilot’s tone is analytical, almost clinical, even as he describes being carried into enemy territory without knowing it.

Narrative Structure and the Role of Dialogue

The excerpt is almost entirely dialogue, with the pilot’s long speech punctuated by the boys’ short questions. This structure gives the passage the feel of an interview or debriefing. The pilot’s account is linear but full of backtracking and qualification: he tried an experiment, feared to descend, noted the time, then realized they were moving with the storm. The boys’ interjections—"How long were you in the storm?"—keep the narrative anchored in measurable facts. The result is a hybrid of adventure story and technical report, where the thrill comes not from action but from the precise description of a bewildering experience.

The excerpt offers a concentrated sample of the novel’s method: placing young American protagonists in situations where they must absorb expert testimony about the new technology of flight. Readers should attend to how the pilot’s language mixes measurement with wonder, and how the boys’ questions guide the flow of information. The storm scene is less about combat than about the strange, isolating physics of early aviation—a theme that may recur throughout the book.

I keep thinking about that storm in The Boy Volunteers with the French Airmen—how the compass spun and the air smelled strange, like something just beyond understanding. It reminded me of another kind of disorientation, quieter but just as real, in Samba: A Story of the Rubber Slaves of the Congo — Reading Companion. Both felt like being lost inside someone else's weather.