19 and 20

[Macklroy 2]

"Now where did YOU get off to in such a hurry there Ray? One minute you're on my left, the next you're a swiftly disapearing speck off towards Albert like you missed a date."

 

-Antoine Perrone was a fair squadron leader but a strict one. I had broken formation (unbeknownst to me at the time) and now I got to answer for it. My name is Raymond L'Rouy, and I'm

currently stationed at cachy aerodrom. And this is my story of number 19 and number 20.

 

We were up for our daily patrol. Antoine, along with Henri Bertrand and a childhood chum of mine Michel Legrand. I was flying Antoine's wing on this particular flight. We were just

nearing the frontlines near the city of Albert when I spoted a flight of Fokker EIII scouts bellow us flying low over one of the abandoned RFC aerodroms. I looked up at Antoine

and was getting ready to signal him that we had company. But as I looked up he was already tipping his wings as if to say he acknowledged the enemy presence himself. Elated upon finding

such easy prey this early in the day I had already banked my nieuport over and was starting my attack before he finished his last wag of his wings.

 

 

As I gained swiflty on my prey I had only thoughts of them not noticing my prescence that I had failed to realize just what sort of situation was developing. What I later had learned is that

Antoine had noticed a friendly flight of two seat recon planes. A flight that we had been notified would be in our area and to watch for them. So what I took for an attack signal was simply

him trying to get our attention as to the friendly flight. I suppose my eagerness of the day had won over my cooler judgment. Now as I pulled back the throttle and rolled into an almost vertical dive,

now as i'm linning up my target, and now as im just about in the thick of the fight i realize....im alone.

 

With no more than a split second left to think I decide my best defense now is a good offense. So I open the throttle back up to full and lay down on the trigger just as the first fokker passes

through the gunsight. I can see im hitting him good, as pieces from his craft are breaking apart and his engine is tossing a large trail of black smoke out behind. I tore back on the stick and pulled

above him. I couldn't make him out against the landscape at first but a long trail of black smoke lead me to him.

 

 

He was really out of control at this point and I had other matters to attend to as one of his friends was now trying to return the favor. We kicked around for a few turns and eventually I managed to get him in front of my gun. On the edge of stall and nearly standing on my right foot to keep the nose up I ran a line of rounds from his prop to his rudder.

 

 

 

A quick snap and he rolled into a dive and I followed closely behind. Diving now on my target I was confident that I could finish him quickly. That confidence was quickly smashed by the sound of machinegun rounds cracking through my fueselage and wing struts. Tearing back on the stick again I snapped my head around to locate my antagonist. I could hardly believe what I saw. A heavily smoking Fokker, clearly my encounter from just moments ago, had pulled in behind me in my dive and was now lining up another attack.

 

 

Luckily I had gathered enough speed in my dive that I was able to climb out of his range of fire. He attempted the same manuver but his craft was too heavily damaged and he could not maintain control and began to spin towards the ground again.Comming back down almost vertical now I reaquired my original quary and sent a long steady burst across his plane. It is my opinion that the last attack put rounds into the pilot. For as I pulled around I witnessed no attempt by the pilot to correct his crafts rate of decent and the fokker exploded in a field just a few yards away from a farmhouse.

 

 

As I looked back I could also see two billowing columns of smoke now. One near the farmhouse and another a bit further to the south. My opponent with the smoking problem had made the decision to shoot me down or die in his attempt. I could find no other craft in the sky around me. I checked my heading and turned for home marking with my pen two small dots just west of the line south of Albert. 19 and 20 I was hopping. -

 

 

 

My story seemed to please Antoine as he chuckled and said.

 

"That could explain the two EIII scouts that we encountered...well, we watched them diving for their lines anyway. We figured something must have spooked 'em. Could have been that mad frenchman with his hair

on fire attacking 4 to 1? Just maybe...Now let's see about getting those victories confirmed eh Ray?"

 

"sure thing boss"

 

Michel Legrand added running up to us "Hey Ray! Was that YOU down there with those bosche boys? I thought I saw one of those crates hit a house! Why dont you tell anyone when you're goin on a barn burner?"

-------------------------------------

 

As a side note I reached the 17hr mark for the first time in DiD. Although I am finding it a little easier to survive in nieuports in 1916 than camels in 1917-18.

 

S!

Edited May 8, 2009 by Macklroy

[Ras 0]

"Now where did YOU get off to in such a hurry there Ray? One minute you're on my left, the next you're a swiftly disapearing speck off towards Albert like you missed a date."

 

-Antoine Perrone was a fair squadron leader but a strict one. I had broken formation (unbeknownst to me at the time) and now I got to answer for it. My name is Raymond L'Rouy, and I'm

currently stationed at cachy aerodrom. And this is my story of number 19 and number 20.

 

We were up for our daily patrol. Antoine, along with Henri Bertrand and a childhood chum of mine Michel Legrand. I was flying Antoine's wing on this particular flight. We were just

nearing the frontlines near the city of Albert when I spoted a flight of Fokker EIII scouts bellow us flying low over one of the abandoned RFC aerodroms. I looked up at Antoine

and was getting ready to signal him that we had company. But as I looked up he was already tipping his wings as if to say he acknowledged the enemy presence himself. Elated upon finding

such easy prey this early in the day I had already banked my nieuport over and was starting my attack before he finished his last wag of his wings.

 

 

As I gained swiflty on my prey I had only thoughts of them not noticing my prescence that I had failed to realize just what sort of situation was developing. What I later had learned is that

Antoine had noticed a friendly flight of two seat recon planes. A flight that we had been notified would be in our area and to watch for them. So what I took for an attack signal was simply

him trying to get our attention as to the friendly flight. I suppose my eagerness of the day had won over my cooler judgment. Now as I pulled back the throttle and rolled into an almost vertical dive,

now as i'm linning up my target, and now as im just about in the thick of the fight i realize....im alone.

 

With no more than a split second left to think I decide my best defense now is a good offense. So I open the throttle back up to full and lay down on the trigger just as the first fokker passes

through the gunsight. I can see im hitting him good, as pieces from his craft are breaking apart and his engine is tossing a large trail of black smoke out behind. I tore back on the stick and pulled

above him. I couldn't make him out against the landscape at first but a long trail of black smoke lead me to him.

 

 

He was really out of control at this point and I had other matters to attend to as one of his friends was now trying to return the favor. We kicked around for a few turns and eventually I managed to get him in front of my gun. On the edge of stall and nearly standing on my right foot to keep the nose up I ran a line of rounds from his prop to his rudder.

 

 

 

A quick snap and he rolled into a dive and I followed closely behind. Diving now on my target I was confident that I could finish him quickly. That confidence was quickly smashed by the sound of machinegun rounds cracking through my fueselage and wing struts. Tearing back on the stick again I snapped my head around to locate my antagonist. I could hardly believe what I saw. A heavily smoking Fokker, clearly my encounter from just moments ago, had pulled in behind me in my dive and was now lining up another attack.

 

 

Luckily I had gathered enough speed in my dive that I was able to climb out of his range of fire. He attempted the same manuver but his craft was too heavily damaged and he could not maintain control and began to spin towards the ground again.Comming back down almost vertical now I reaquired my original quary and sent a long steady burst across his plane. It is my opinion that the last attack put rounds into the pilot. For as I pulled around I witnessed no attempt by the pilot to correct his crafts rate of decent and the fokker exploded in a field just a few yards away from a farmhouse.

 

 

As I looked back I could also see two billowing columns of smoke now. One near the farmhouse and another a bit further to the south. My opponent with the smoking problem had made the decision to shoot me down or die in his attempt. I could find no other craft in the sky around me. I checked my heading and turned for home marking with my pen two small dots just west of the line south of Albert. 19 and 20 I was hopping. -

 

 

 

My story seemed to please Antoine as he chuckled and said.

 

"That could explain the two EIII scouts that we encountered...well, we watched them diving for their lines anyway. We figured something must have spooked 'em. Could have been that mad frenchman with his hair

on fire attacking 4 to 1? Just maybe...Now let's see about getting those victories confirmed eh Ray?"

 

"sure thing boss"

 

Michel Legrand added running up to us "Hey Ray! Was that YOU down there with those bosche boys? I thought I saw one of those crates hit a house! Why dont you tell anyone when you're goin on a barn burner?"

-------------------------------------

 

As a side note I reached the 17hr mark for the first time in DiD. Although I am finding it a little easier to survive in nieuports in 1916 than camels in 1917-18.

 

S!

 

 

Congratulations on making the 17 hour mark. I enjoyed the written account and pictures. Makes me want to get back in the Nieuport again.

[Rick Rawlings 150]

Sweet Story! I love those Neiuports! (Even with their irascible lower wings!)

 

RR