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may have been regular army officers flying in some of the chasse squadrons, but I never heard of any.

Of our five West Point majors, Reynolds was the oldest and the one most respected by the younger men. I don't know what became of him. Anderson, by then a full colonel, was killed in a flying accident in Germany after the war. The others won glory in WW2. Royce was McArthur's air commander in the Philippines. Brereton, a three-star general, commanded the Tenth Air Force under Stilwell. I gather from Barbara Tuchman that Stilwell didn't like him. I didn't either. McNarney acquired four stars, became Chief of the Air Service and head of the Joint Chiefs of Staff in the 1950's.

The regular army office I knew best was then First Lieutenant George Kenny. I played poker with him.  When John Ransom came to visit me at Amanty, as related in an earlier letter, I am sure it was Kenny who took him up for a ride at my request. Kenny left Amanty before I did, as an ordinatry pilot in the 91st squadron. The next I heard of him was in WW2, when he was a four-star general and overall commander of the air force in the Pacific area.

Life was rather dull at Amanty. Neither the village nor Gondrecourt had anything to offer in the way of amusement. If you followed the highway three miles further east, you descended into the valley of the Meuse and came to Domremy-la-Pucelle, the birthplace of Joan of Arc. I went there twice on Sunday walks. I gather from the Michelin guide book that Domremy now has a museum and a hotel. In 1918 it had neither. There was not even a guard at Joan's house, which you could wander through and look into the room where she was born. Someone however kept the premises in order.

At Amanty I fell into bad habits. We had poker games nearly