This story is all truth, however, and stranger than any fiction I could imagine.
Frank Luke was born in May 1897, one of nine children in a German-immigrant family.
He grew up in Phoenix, Arizona, where he lived his life as an early 20thcentury cowboy.
It would seem military discipline didnt really connect with him.
He was arrogant, often wild, and usually restless.
Early missions with the 27thAero Squadron saw him break formation to chase a German recon aircraft.
Many of his squadron-mates didnt trust him.
Regardless, many pilots recognized Luke was also supremely talented.
Luke impressed some of his squadron-mates with his abilities as a daredevil and pistol shooter on the ground.
His accuracy was noted to be impressive.
Such was the legend of Frank Luke.
These were captive balloons, attached to their moorings by a cable.
The observers had a static-line parachute to escape if their balloon was attacked.
Defenses were significant anti-aircraft ranged from machine guns to 37mm semi-auto guns to 77mm cannons.
German aircraft frequently flew defensive patrols over the balloons.
Attacking balloons was a supremely difficult and dangerous job, and Luke excelled at it.
He burned three on his last flight, the day of his death.
Some carried a handgun to give themselves a fighting chance if they landed in no-mans land.
World War I aircraft were primarily made of wood and canvas.
The danger of fire was ever-present, and parachutes were rarely issued to Allied pilots.
A bullet to the head was considered preferable to burning or leaping to ones death.
Apparently, Luke carried at least one M1911 pistol aloft with him, and by some accounts two.
There are multiple accounts of Lukes last mission and its violent end.
He landed four or five hundred yards down on a little slope.
When he landed, the tail of his ship was pointed slightly towards the farm.
He had been shot through the lung.
He was an excellent .45 handgun shooter.
If a man can be brave, he was the bravest man I ever saw.
I never could burn one.
A…shell had penetrated the chest near the right breast and came out under the left shoulder blade.
Frank Luke had met his end.
German fire had brought him down, and ultimately killed him.
Through it all, he was a man of his word.
Even though gravely wounded, barely able to breath, he refused to be taken alive.
He defied the enemy to the last, fending them off with an M1911 pistol.
A great gun born from a design that has fought in hands of countless heroes over the decades.
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