The former was to be made an officer, the
latter a chevalier in the Legion of Honor. Heurtaux, a fair-haired,
delicate, almost girlish young man, but so phenomenally self-possessed
in danger, had been, as we have said, our Roland's Oliver, his companion
of old days, his rival and his confidant. Fonck, whom I called
Aymerillot because of his smallness, his boyish simplicity and his
daring, the hope of the morrow and already a glorious soldier, had
perhaps avenged Guynemer's death already. For Lieutenant Weissman,
according to the _Koelnische Zeitung_, had boasted in a letter to his
people of having brought down the most famous French aviator. "Don't be
afraid on my account," he added, "I shall never meet such a dangerous
enemy again." Now, on September 30 Fonck had shot this Lieutenant
Weissman through the head as the latter was piloting a Rumpler machine
above the French lines.
While the band was playing the _Marseillaise_, accompanied by the
roaring of the gale and of the sea, as well as of the airplanes circling
above, General Anthoine stepped out in front of the row of flags.
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