 During the Civil War, the Air Force was born, and as early as 1898, the War Department showed interest in the glider, but it took a pair of clever bicycle makers who tinkered with the man carrying kite to add imagination and power. Wilbur and Orville Wright gave the glider a water-cooled engine of their own design and two chain-driven eight-and-a-half-foot pusher propellers. The toss of a coin in 1903 at Kitty Hawk, North Carolina, won Orville Wright the chance to be the first man in history to fly under power. Air time, 12 seconds. Distance, less than the length of a B-36 wing. Wilbur Wright went to Europe in 1908 to find a market for the flying machine, which up to then they were unable to sell. His flights on the continent attracted the President of France, as well as the Kings of England, Spain, and Italy. To Wilbur, it was endless work. In addition to acting as pilot, he was ground-proof, mechanic, and salesman. A team of horses pulled the plane to a wooden monorail. This was to serve as a runway on the grassy field. Lifted by a few men, the flying machine was swung into position, facing the wind. To provide thrust for the take-off, the Wrights had developed a weight-falling catapult. After the props were spun, the engine picked over. Wilbur and his passenger or French journalist took seats on the lower wing and braced themselves for an exciting ride. He convinced Europe, winning applause, but no sale. Back in America, encouraged by President Teddy Roosevelt, the War Department opened vids for a heavier-than-air flying machine. Signal Corps specifications required that it carry two persons a distance of 125 miles at an average speed of 40 miles an hour. The Wrights signed a stiff contract. Finally, at Fort Maya, Virginia, they blew a machine that was accepted as U.S. Army Airplane Number One. By 1913, 41 Army pilots were decorated with these gold military aviator wings. Among them was Lieutenant Henry Arnold, who later as commanding general of the AAF led two-and-a-half million airmen to victory. Another aviation pioneer, Van Curtis, also built early Army trainers. Soon, more inventors improved the machine with practice instead of pushable colors. And the Army began to see the new airplane emerge as a weapon. By 1916, our only trained aviators were a few Americans flying with France, and they made us proud. They were the famous Lafayette Eskidrill, started by Norman Prince, William Thor, Victor Chapman, and Bert Hall, who courageously fought when Germany had full control of the sky over Europe. When German U-boats forced us to declare war, American air power ranked 14. We were far from ready. I was a rookie cadet, I ought to know. They gave us wooden guns and told us we were going to turn the tide. You know, in a couple of weeks, we began to look as though we might do it. With training equipment, we molded our own bombs out of plaster. Pretty soon, we trained with the real things. Lewis machine guns. Having met the requirements, we were issued leather flying tugs and helmets. Assignments were made. We got a chance to fly. First, we made a pre-flight check of the bailing wire planes. We tried our wings. 50 hours in the air, a few bombs, we were checked out. Ready for advanced training overseas. America was producing airmen, but we didn't have a single fighting airplane. Only a few of our leaders were wise. Newton Baker, Secretary of War, was one. He insisted supremacy of the air in modern warfare is essential. Woodrow Wilson was another. The President asked for $600 million to meet the needs of military aviation. Meanwhile, Red Cross girls saw us off on our way overseas. Since Congress couldn't vote us time, we went to France without airplanes. But we did go in style. Camouflaged luxury liners like the Leviathan were used as troops ships. Some of us, half-trained fliers, went to Britain and Italy, but most of us went to France. There, we found cities of wooden barracks and muddy streets. In outdoor classes, we practiced gunnery. Wooden models helped us learn how to lead a plane with our fire. Battle-tested aviators took time out from the war to show us how to handle a stick. Finally, we sold. The first ride was always a thrill and a bumpy experience. However, it was much easier to talk about turning the tide than to produce fighting aces overnight, even if some of us were lucky. Late in 1917, France met the AEF's first aero squadron, commanded by Major Ralph Royce. His outfit was the first to see action, and they proudly pasted paper iron crosses over enemy bullet holes. Our commander was Colonel Billy Mitchell. America's first fliers were there, General Benjamin Falloy in command of supply and schools. Colonel Thomas Milling had a air service unit's first army, and Colonel Frank Lomb for the second army commanded by General Bullard. When Major William Thor and the Lathe at Eskadrill became the 103rd aero squadron, they brought a record of triumphs. Four, five German planes down. Lieutenant Lorner, three. Lieutenant Merrick, one. Lieutenant Tobin, three. Don't forget the aces. Captain Field Kindley with 12 victories and Major Raoul Loughbury with 17, before they were both grounded forever. Then those who lived to take part in another war, Captain Elliot Springs with a score of 12, and the ace of aces, out of the ring, Captain Eddie Rickenbacker with 26 victories. America's airplane factories and us war workers didn't get started until late. To make airplane wings, they took us house coppers, furniture upholsterers, even seamstresses with high pompadors. Meet Rosy the Riveter, 1917. Painters used varnish that smelled like bananas. The fuselage, which we finally chose, was a British design. The engine was all American. The manufacturer was the outstanding production achievement of the war. In all, 4,500 DH4 airplanes powered by the Liberty Engine were put together in this country. They were built by Ford, Lincoln, Cadillac, and Packard. Automobile manufacturers. Curtis, Martin, and Wright, still famous plane making names, were busy assembly plants in those days. World War I gave America its great aircraft industry. Each plane was test flown. Then the thousands of parts were painstakingly dismantled for packing under guard. They were upgraded and addressed off to the front. In France, Husky madmoselles handled the wings like toys. Here, parts were reassembled into the fighting craft, which helped sweep the enemy out of the sky. May, 1918, and the first American DH4s rolled directly from assembly sheds to the airfields. Only eight months after they were ordered into production, they joined American aviators ready for the big push. When the order to prepare for battle was given, truckloads of aerial bombs were delivered to the planes. The air armorers fused the bombs and loaded the racks. Then the boys who had to take them off made sure the job was done right. The boys still talk about the big push. When we lifted the flaps that September morning in 1918, everything was ready. Philly Mitchell had asked for every Allied airplane that could fight, and we brought them out. The brass ordered a tremendous air force to control the skies over the Sama Hill sector. This was the first Army's field of battle. For the dawn takeoffs, we put flares on our wingtips. Every Allied field on the continent gave its planes. General Mitchell called for 1500. We actually got 1481 off the ground. One prop spit into the air and the engines began to rev up. Our mission was to protect the dough boys of the First Army. Some had orders to bomb and strafe enemy installations. Others to engage the Germans in the air. This was it. Each pilot had been carefully briefed for his part in the mission. U.S. aviators in 609 American planes, now a solid part of Allied air power, rose to attack. Germany put albatrosses, fuckers, more than 30 different types of planes in action, to fly no man's land patrols. Some of the Huns dropped bombs by hand on our troops. With over 120 different types of aircraft, the Allies fought back. Our boys were always quick to single out the enemy and come in close to attack. The German was hurt, he tried to escape, but couldn't make it. Our pilot signaled that he had made another kill, and after a victory roll, he rejoined his buddies. Other enemy ships strafed our observation balloons, burning them out of the sky. Allied air power struck back in force. The sky was a beehive of battle. We overwhelmed their air defense, winning and holding air superiority. It was almost the same a few weeks later in the Muse-Argon offensive, where we bombed with telling effect in the most notable aerial effort of the war. November 11, 1918, closed a chapter in the unending story of the United States Air Force. Visual history has shown us some of the courageous men in uniform and out who cradle the dream of flight and gave us aviation. Using the history-making jobs that lay ahead is the inspiring chronicle of more Americans who continued the pioneer spirit. Men with an idea who planned and worked and fought to build the greatest striking force and protective power in history, the United States Air Force.