Life in a Sopwith Strutter

[CaptSopwith]

It's been a while since I've written up a full After Action Report but my last mission in WOFF really warranted it.

I decided to change up my campaigns and let fate decide my next assignment. Destiny sent me to RNAS-2 in August 1916. The squadron is a motley assortment - a few Nieuport 10's, one Nieuport 11 designated for the Squadron Commander's use, and a mix of BE2's and Sopwith Strutters, which thankfully, the latter was assigned to my pilot. I've run out of ideas for proper names after nearly three decades of sending hapless virtual aviators to their doom, so I'm just borrowing names from the developers so... my apologies to whatever happens to Mark "Winding Man" Andrews...

Our first sortie was an exercise in embarrassment - and a real lesson that flying in the Recon Wars is a very different experience than being a swashbuckling fighter pilot. We were assigned photographic reconnaissance duty, as a solo flight with an escort to the lines. The flight to the Front was fairly uneventful, until we were ordered to break and run for the nearest aerodrome. As we banked away, I could see specks in the distance - clearly some German Eindeckers were on the prowl. We made it back to Fume and set down, only to be told in the debrief that we neglected to actually pack our camera...  :sigh:

Our second flight turned out to be far more eventful. This time we were assigned artillery ranging and thankfully, we remembered to lug the heavy wireless transmitter aboard. 

Once again, the flight out was fairly smooth. Once again, we approached the lines. Once again, we were ordered to break and run. This time, however, I looked over and saw a flight of three Germans rapidly closing on us. With two escorts - an aging Nieuport 10 and our Squadron Commander in his 11, I decided we weren't going to run this time. (I also have enough memories of flying in late 1916 for the Germans and getting bounced by Strutters, so I figured I could hold my own).

Dogfighting, if you can still call it that, in a two-seater is a wild experience. You coordinate with your gunner and work to keep both arcs of fire in play. As a target nears the rear of the plane, you keep an eye on your observer and see how he is training his fire. The challenge is to be stable enough to give him a shot, without parking your plane clear in your enemy's sights. If it looks like you might be in peril, it's time to jink the machine and clear your opponent. With the Strutter's relative nimbleness, you can blip the engine and pull the machine around and open fire.

Three decades of experience gives you an edge but you have to re-learn your timing. The first few passes, against one EIII and a dual-gun EIV, I mistimed the head-one pass and we wound up taking a few bursts. Thankfully nothing too important was hit.

The next several minutes were a blur. Turning, giving my gunner an opportunity to place his shots, yanking the plane around, hearing the airframe creak under the strain, and getting several bursts off from the front Vickers machine gun. In the end, we accounted for two machines - one EIII and one EIV. We managed to make a break after that - my rear gunner damaged the third Eindecker to the point that he decided to turn and run.

Sadly, we lost our Squadron Commander, who was shot down in his Nieuport 11. We turned and once again, landed at Fume - the chaps there have gotten to know us well over the last few days and had a proper brew up waiting for us once we touched down.

If you haven't taken a chance on flying something outside of our Greatest Hits package of Camels and Fokkers and Spads, I can't recommend this enough. The tasks you are assigned make the process of flying one of these multi-use machines so much more immersive and rewarding. I love the challenge of managing your allotted amount of photographic plates, or keeping the battery in your wireless from running down too low. You have to be so much more precise with your heading, altitude, and speed - lest you run away from your escorts or arrive over your assigned area too soon. Timing suddenly matters.

Aerial combat feels so much more perilous - you are no longer fueled by adrenaline, machismo, and a lust for glory and medals. You really are trying to do a job, and get home in one piece. Even the debrief brings this home - reminding you that your observer is relieved to be safely back on the ground.

I'll post more as we go - we'll see how long Mark makes it!