Mere words are inadequate to describe our tour through the United States of America and Canada. At every stage of our trip our hearts were touched to the core. It is always difficult to describe one's feelings. There is always the danger of becoming sentimental and consequently tedious. Thereby one misses one's aim, and instead of describing one's true feelings in a spirit of thankfulness, one evolves empty phrases, at least seemingly so. Therefore in reviewing our experiences during the weeks of our stay on the American continent, we wish to write as shortly and objectively as possible. In this way we believe that we shall more fully fulfill our duty, and give expression more adequately to the feelings of deep and lasting thankfulness which fill our hearts. They fill our hearts not only because kindness and heartiness were everywhere showered upon us, but because we definitely felt the greetings, the welcomes and the honors extended to us, were extended not only to us but in a large degree to our countries Ireland and Germany.

One of the main objectives of our flight was to stretch a band, to strengthen the already existing ties, between these countries of old Europe and the American continent. In addition we hoped to build between these two parts of the world which are separated by water, shorter bridges than those already existing, in order to construct a practicable road for the peaceful intercourse of nation with nation and country with country. If our hope is fulfilled only in a small degree, we shall be extremely happy, and shall do everything in our power to advance the mutual task of the nations. We have always emphasized, with all the sincerity of our hearts, that we are by no means "heroes," but the servants of an idea; an idea whose fulfillment will bring in its train—not we alone but innumerable others consider—blessings not only to the individual countries and peoples of the world, but to mankind as a whole.

In their forefront marches, it cannot be otherwise, His Honor, the Mayor of New York: Mr. James Walker. The citizens of his city are less familiar with this name. They call him "Jimmy Walker"; and this name, by which we also soon came to think of him, is not entirely devoid of a touch of kindness, and in no way implies anything disrespectful. Indeed, it shows that the citizens of the greatest city in the world love and trust their Mayor. No wonder that we also from our very first encounter with him were fascinated by the rare charm and ready humor of this man. Behind his vivacious spirit, his witty tongue always ready with satirical remarks, beats his overwhelmingly great, his living and warm heart. We shall never, Mayor Walker, forget that day and night—though as yet we had not made your acquaintance—that night when you waited vainly on Mitchel Field, New York.

You may rest assured that wherever we may go, and wherever we may have the opportunity of speaking about it, we will think of your generous attitude towards us. You embody for us the spirit and power of this gigantic city, in which the inhabitants, in spite of their different origins and different traditions, have banded themselves together in a community and have become as one unit. In our hearts you will always remain "the best fellow in the world." More we cannot and do not want to say. There are thoughts which lose in value if too loud expression is given to them. We cannot express in suitable words the feelings that the Bremen Crew feel towards "Jimmy Walker" of New York.



Everybody must have a head. Every Committee needs a Chairman. Who of the visitors coming to the States on an official mission does not know the name of Grover 'Whalen? In spite of his correct exterior which seems to ward off familiarity and seems to demand official courtesy, his warm feelings and constant readiness to be of assistance banish the reserve of every visitor.

We called him our "Daddy." Dangers loomed up everywhere. They rose out of an excess of friendliness, but such heartiness and friendliness had to be accepted in a proper order. Grover Whalen knew how to arrange these things. He directed the current into its proper channel; he dammed the tide, without losing any of its elementary force. He helped us in the daytime as well as at night. We never discovered when Grover Whalen had his sleep. He appeared in the evenings in immaculate attire, was careful to see that we retired to our rest in good time; and when the next morning we awakened from a good night's sleep, we learned that Grover Whalen had done another good day's work. But he shows no sign of his strenuous days. He smiles, displaying his shiny white teeth as he does so.

The Mayor's Committee certainly takes a good share of the work off his shoulders. Unforgotten are the names : George Mand, Leopold Philipp, T. R. Malone, Christy Bohnsack, and Major "Bill" Deegan.

They all seem to follow the example set by the chairman. They are always hearty, always kind and always on the alert to help their guests, who no longer feel merely guests, but at home at their fireplaces. Everything, however, centers in "Daddy Whalen" and will continue to center in him long after the names of the Bremen and her crew are forgotten.



It is rather a delicate matter for one author to write about the press, and it becomes three times as dangerous when three authors are involved. It is almost impossible to write fully about the American Press. This press is powerful, but incredibly disciplined. It possesses all the tact of the man of the world, and combines with this tact the mighty impulse to action of the great country. Evidences of the press abound everywhere there is news. Yet it never becomes obtrusive. It understands how to obtain an interview without the subject of the interview noticing it, and even the pictures it takes, or causes to be taken, lack the constraint which the professional photographer so easily throws upon the object in front of his camera. Moreover, the press is sensitive; it not only observes facts, but observes emotions of the heart and spirit, interpreting those emotions correctly. To say more would be pretentious. To think more is unnecessary. The Press knows that it has our thanks.



The street! It is the heart of the city, and how it welcomed us! We had already passed through the snowstorms of Labrador and Greenly Island. After those snowstorms from the sky, the "snowstorms" which enveloped us in the streets of New York were a new experience. It seemed impossible that there was in the world such infinite masses of paper as those showered down upon us from the windows of the towering buildings where the great work of this city of ten million inhabitants is carried on. Yet it was a fact. One hears of the phantastic sums which are spent in cleaning the streets after such receptions as ours, and in Europe when they read about such sums, they murmer the word "exaggeration"; but he who himself stood in the middle of this snowstorm might consider the sum even too small.

What is the howling of the ocean gales compared with the hooting of the sirens of steamers which greeted us on the Hudson? Is there more water in the Atlantic than the water which the tugboats spouted up to Heaven? We do not know! We were overcome! Was it possible there was so many hands to shake as those which we were permitted to grasp? We had not imagined that these things could be. We had to learn from the experiences we went through, what it means to win the heart of such a metropolis. And what made us the happiest of all? The fact that we were welcomed by all classes and all nationalities.

Such heartiness we shall never forget so long as we may live. The voice of New York spoke to us in this "snowstorm," in this blowing of automobile horns, in those joyous shouts, and her voice went to our hearts. Even though individual cries could not be distinguished but were merged in a common shout of welcome, New York can rest assured that the echo of this welcome will ring for ever in our hearts.



New York's police force is indeed to be admired. This force is not only admirable, but also friendly, and this we must not forget. One hears them on the street as they race through with howling sirens—although only when this is absolutely necessary—stopping for a few seconds the terrific traffic in order that those in their care may pass through. Otherwise, they step into the background, although it is difficult to overlook their tall figures. This last factor is helpful, because whenever it becomes necessary to ask their advice for help, one can immediately detect where a New York policeman stands. One may be sure that one will obtain from him kind and correct advice.

To us, especially, these policemen seemed quite familiar. Are they not to a large extent descendants of Fitzmaurice's fatherland? We saw with sincere admiration how well they coped with their difficult task, and from our quiet observations we learned that only a force as well trained and tactful as this is, is capable of maintaining in perfect order the always lively and ever changing traffic of such a city as New York. The most conspicuous trait seemed to us to be the continuous jollity and the good healthy humor of these giants. The hand-shake of a New York policeman almost squashes the right hand of the person thus greeted. We could feel these handshakes for weeks, although even without such clear proof we would never have forgotten the New York police. Their picture will always remain in our memory.



Soldiers follow soldiers. He who has himself worn the soldier's coat and still wears it, is filled with pleasure. In the army is embodied the power and the decision to protect the soil of an entire nation. The parade of the troops in New York and elsewhere overwhelmed us, and at the same time touched us. Just before the mighty parade took place, we went to the "Eternal Light" to pay homage to the memory of those who died for their country. Fitzmaurice had fought on their side in the War. Koehl and Huenefeld had stood at the other side of the trenches. But in this moment we were united in one thought; in our belief in our own country and in our love of our fatherland! The dead, whose memory we were honoring, died for this belief, as did the sons of every country and nation who died for their convictions.

But after death comes pulsing life; waving flags and vigorous music. Life gains victory over the grave. The soldiers of the United States of America and of New York pass by. When we are back in Europe we will remember and in spirit shake hands with our comrades on the American continent. The honor you show us touches to the quick the hearts of those who have been or who are still soldiers themselves. The honor you show us will strengthen our mutual understanding, and will make for real peace between the nations, in a larger degree than may seem possible to one who does not understand the soul of the soldier.



They were very numerous. They were exceptionally good. Speeches were made which far exceeded the average of every day, and which showed us that the spirit of our undertaking was understood in the United States. This made us very happy. Never before had we witnessed a celebration, the grandeur and importance of which were so apparent as at the banquet given us by the Mayor's Committee, followed by reception after reception, handshake after handshake. On looking back, we must, although single personalities emerge clearly, confine ourselves to the list of those corporations and societies which honored us with a banquet. We enumerate them below, so as to give the reader some conception of the measure of friendliness showered upon us by New York, and in order, also, that he may gain some idea of the demands made upon our stomachs !

Dinners given by the City of New York; by the New York Merchants Association, by the Board of Trade of German-American Commerce; by the Catholic Club of the City of New York; dinner on board the steamer "Columbus"; dinner of the Advertising Club, Electrolux Society; dinner given by the Irish Trade Commissioner Lindsay Crawford; farewell dinner on board the Lloyd steamer "Columbus" for the Press and the Mayor's Committee; luncheon of the American Arbitration Association, Catholic Actors Guild.

To mention all the speeches made would be almost an impossibility, because of the large number of persons who spoke, and the diversity of subjects spoken on, all culminating, however, in the general desire for "good will." So we will merely mention a few names: Mayor James Walker, Grover Whalen, Mayor General William N. Haskell, Herbert Hoover, Eugen Henningson, Professor William R. Shepheard, Willis H. Booth, Lucius R. Eastman, the Swedish Consul General Olaf H. Lamm, Dr. Alfredo Pirelli, H. Schuengel, Victor Ridder, Irish Trade Commissioner Lindsay Crawford, Sir Charles Higham, Gilbert T. Hodges, Consul Dr. Haeuser, Richard Washburn Child, Judge O'Brien, Gustaf Sahlin, Harry F. Guggenheim, John Crosby.

These speeches were not only spoken, but as a result of the deep feeling behind them, they went straight to our hearts. We have taken them with us to Europe, and shall mention them in words of praise so long as we ourselves have the opportunity of talking.



How did we live in New York ? Nobler than princes. The "Ritz Carlton" hotel put at our disposal rooms such as usually fall only to the lot of Heads of the State and very illustrious men. We came under neither category, but nevertheless we felt very much at home. And why should we not feel at home, in view of all the trouble taken by the herculean Mr. Keller—whose friendly smile beamed with fatherly kindness— and his staff. They all did their very utmost to make our lives as comfortable as possible. Why? We must repeatedly emphasize that we felt we were honored beyond our due. All we did was to fly from Baldonnel to Greenly Island. We should have reached New York—at least this was expected, although we did not set ourselves a definite goal—we wanted to reach the new continent. But New York was waiting for us. Huenefeld's last words before the take-off, "Mitchel Field or Heaven," which were meant to be a friendly arabesque, had become generally known.

Nevertheless New Yorkers did not bear us any grudge when later we did not land either in Heaven or Mitchel Field. At the banquet of the City of New York, Mayor Walker said he would have preferred Heaven! On the whole we would have preferred Mitchel Field, although we never saw it. This was one of the strangest things that happened to us on our journey; Mitchel Field prepared itself for a festive reception; all the world spoke about Mitchel field; yet of all the flying fields of the city of New York we only became acquainted with Curtiss Field. But this field gave us a very good idea of the facilities afforded by the well conducted fields of the City of New York.

For this reason, we were extremely pleased to hear shortly before leaving New York, that the management of the municipal flying field of New York had been entrusted to the proven care of Clarence Chamberlin. He whom we had all met in Europe, whose name over there is just as honored as it is celebrated here, is according to international ideas one of the "big guns" of aviation. The worries entailed by the management of the city affairs of New York are, thank God, far removed from us—and it is perhaps bold for us to express an opinion, but we believe that the selection of Clarence Chamberlin is an especially fortunate one.

Things that none of us had ever dreamt of became reality in New York. We appeared in the boxing ring. Unfortunately we could not take an active part in the fight. But that seemingly was not required of us. We were only shown to the audience, and felt extremely proud. Sport remains sport. Followers of different lines of sport understand each other at first sight. And that was probably the reason why our welcome in the ring was so especially hearty.

And the theatres! We witnessed performances in the theatres, and we spoke from the stage; Fitzmaurice in fluent, Koehl and Huenefeld in broken, English. But the audience understood all three—they understood the desire behind the speeches. And when on the top of all Mayor Walker appeared in person upon the stage to introduce the visitors, the success of the evening was assured. All these experiences enriched us. And then came an hour, when each one of us was reminded with special warmth of his own country. In the Irish and German societies and clubs so many proofs were given to the Bremen crew that those U. S. citizens who came originally from Europe have not forgotten the countries of their birth, that our hearts rejoiced. They all tried to show us how they still cling to their old countries, thereby causing us deep and lasting pleasure.

The Press and the public stated that we were exhausted and tired as a result of the attentions showered upon us. This was only comparatively true. It was such a joy to be permitted to see so many nice things, and above all to experience them, that our pleasure far and away outweighed our fatigue, and banished it. Joy cannot wear one out, nor fortune exhaust. Those days in New York certainly showered happiness and pleasure upon us.



We experienced the highest honor that can be bestowed upon an American citizen or upon a foreigner in the United States. In Washington we were permitted to appear in person before the President of the United States, and to receive in the White House grounds from his hands the highest decoration that America bestows for accomplishments in the field of aviation. New York is the city of phenomenal growth and modernity. Washington's streets and monuments spoke to us in a spirit of quiet distinguished reticence. In Washington the past lives again. The history of this country awakens. The traditions of the American people manifest themselves in this capital of the Union.

Even as we stood in Wall Street, New York, before the statue of George Washington, a feeling overcame us which made us realize what it means to start life from a humble beginning, and with a strong hand and warm heart take over the leadership of a growing Nation. Our respect for the history of the country increased still more in Washington, the city which bears his name. Indicative of the love Americans bear their country, a symbol of power and might, stands the gigantic cupola of the Capitol, brightly illuminated at night—against the sky. And during the day the white obelisks point upward, indicating the path the nation has trod.

But it is not merely the past which lives and speaks in Washington. In the senate and congress we were permitted to tread upon ground forbidden to non-members, and were permitted to shake hands with men and women who to-day frame the laws of the United States.

He who has seen President Coolidge in the rooms of the White House, which reminded us of the early days of this great city, will never forget the impressions they take away. The celebration at which we were permitted to receive the Distinguished Flying Cross attained a particular significance, as it was not held in closed-in rooms, but under God's free heaven. The trees of the park, beautiful in the green of early Spring, were bathed in sunshine. Laws which in their original version prohibited the bestowing of crosses upon us, had been amended so that this became possible. The sky seemed to agree with this decision by beaming down sunshine upon us all.

The ceremonies of the White House have an awe-inspiring effect. Simple as it may be, its correctness and its importance place it in a class apart. The voice of a hundred million people, whose place in the world can never be overlooked, had spoken for us. This fact alone would have been sufficient to impress a special seal upon this day in Washington. Somewhere, however, the shadows of old days passed through even the light flooded garden. Somewhere one could see the figure of General Steuben, in his powdered wig, walking down the bushes; somewhere voices were whispering the names of the illustrious dead, Lincoln, Grant, Karl Schurz.

The sounds of feverish life seemed to be deadened, the rattling of motors seemed to die away. The past and present grasped each other's hands and signed a covenant for the future. Let the sunny heaven of these Washington days shine forever upon this covenant.

Upon the Military flying fields we were permitted to meet Lindbergh, for the first time, and he who has that privilege will realize that while America has such sons the history of this country will not be closed even after hundreds of years.

Secretary of State Kellogg spoke to us about the progress of culture, about the blessings of peace, and of the desire of the nations to agree with each other. As if to emphasize his words and to give them a better setting and resonance, high above our heads whirred propellers. In the background the crowd lined up. There stood America's air force ready to fight and struggle for new aims.

Fridtjof Nansen, one of the world's greatest sportsman, and a renowned explorer, spoke while we were on American soil these words : that he did not want to think of peace, he wanted to fight for peace. How invigorating are these words, uttered by this great old man, whose name the wide world over commands respect and admiration. Fridtjof Nansen, fighter for peace, has always fought for a just peace. And Abraham Lincoln, one of America's greatest sons, whose very name touches the heart of every American, Abraham Lincoln in front of whose Memorial we stood in Washington, did he not know what it meant to wage a war which was painful and bloody, and did he not celebrate a peace which pacified his one-time opponents, because it was a peace based on friendship and righteousness?

Washington inspires. New York impels one to action. Only in a country where both these forces unite can really purposeful action result. Washington, the city of memories, is a point of rest in the hurry and scurry of the new era. From there, however, at the same time emerge days of impulse whose effect is felt even in the most distant corners of the United States. This city which houses the American Government seemed to us to combine both heart and brain.

We shall never think of Washington without also thinking of the first hazy rainy day, which we spent there. No festive reception, no parades, no celebrations greeted us, although many friendly words were spoken to us. On that occasion the objective of our visit was to visit Floyd Bennett's still fresh grave: that man who had given his life in coming to our aid and died for

us. Silently we deposited flowers; silently we laid the flags of our respective countries which had accompanied us upon our flight from East to West, upon the small sad mound. No words can ever express the sadness in our hearts. Floyd Bennett's name and his memory will live forever in our hearts. "Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends." We shall always treasure the few lines his brave widow wrote us, thanking us for paying tribute to her husband's memory. In those hours and days the feeling grew that it was most fitting that Floyd Bennett's grave should lie under the shadow of Washington's tomb. Nowhere else could they fittingly have lain him.

Shall we also write about the reception in this town? We grasped more than 6,000 hands in one day: the rest you can imagine.